love: today's beautiful blue skies and cool-not-cold temperatures
hate: the gale-force winds that whistle menacingly and make my sliding glass door rattle a lot. Sort of spoils the sunny/cool ambience thing.
love: lazy saturday afternoons to watch TV, which I hardly get to watch anymore
hate: hours of infomercials, preachy financial gurus, boring golf, and Flavor of Love mini-marathons. Where's my Saturday afternoon movie featuring 1980's Molly Ringwald?
love: making lists of possible baby names and dreaming of blue tugboats and baseball mitts
hate: most of them were either girl names (we were certain we were having a girl for a while there) or names Jason doesn't like, introducing the new fear that the baby will be permanently named It, Male One, or Junior before his parents ever make up their minds
love: the lump that once resided in my left arm turned out to be nothing to worry about, after all, confirmed by a very smart South American MD with a German last name WHOM I LOVE
hate: Patrick Swayze getting one of the the worst of all cancers. Say it ain't so, Johnny Castle!
love: Tastespotting. YUM.
hate: never actually making any of the delicious recipes from the site, spending hours instead just drooling in stupor, and finally breaking down in hunger and eating cold, blue-box macaroni & cheese at 3am
love: finally making one of the recipes - red velvet cupcakes with homemade cream cheese frosting
hate: testing them out for my friends, and somehow forgetting everyone who scarfed them down and only remembering the one person who took a tentative nibble, then left the rest of the cupcake untouched. EPIC FAIL.
love: having a baby (boy!) in the belly while my fears of Something Bad Happening are slowly fading
hate: maternity wear doesn't yet fit, regular clothes are just too tight
love: signing up for Lamaze class
hate: paying for Lamaze class
love: my funny-face cat, sleeping so hard that she wakes herself up from a (bad?) dream with these pitiful half-meows, then runs to find me and snuggle and feel safe again
hate: she sometimes does this when I am the one sleeping hard, and uses full loud meows, then practically body slams me with her full weight, stretches out over half the bed, then purrs louder than a Chevrolet to make sure I know she's there. Good thing she's so cute.
Saturday, March 8, 2008
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
oh baby!
Jason and I went for my 15 week, 5 day ultrasound today. Yes, I was nervous. I think it comes with impending motherhood! Thankfully, we have a perfect little munchkin - absolutely nothing wrong at all, except that I am too impatient for August to arrive...
Our Skull Baby. Actually, I think this is a total rockin' out, fight-the-establishment type of kid - the top picture shows a fist raised just above the head. Killer, dude. Prepare for your first mohawk and electric guitar.
Another shot of the head (Skull Baby) in the top half, and a full body shot in the bottom half.
A tiny footprint, toes at the top (pointing at "my"). I'm already preparing some ranch dip to nibble them with come August...
And as you can see, we are having, unmistakably, a precious little boy. Jason was so sweet, getting instantly excited for all the camping, fishing, and hiking trips he's planning for his son, not to mention the hours and hours of... video games. Ah, male bonding.
My awesome OB checked all the different body parts out, and she pronounced him absolutely perfect. I couldn't agree more!
Now we just gotta think of some names...
Our Skull Baby. Actually, I think this is a total rockin' out, fight-the-establishment type of kid - the top picture shows a fist raised just above the head. Killer, dude. Prepare for your first mohawk and electric guitar.
Another shot of the head (Skull Baby) in the top half, and a full body shot in the bottom half.
A tiny footprint, toes at the top (pointing at "my"). I'm already preparing some ranch dip to nibble them with come August...
And as you can see, we are having, unmistakably, a precious little boy. Jason was so sweet, getting instantly excited for all the camping, fishing, and hiking trips he's planning for his son, not to mention the hours and hours of... video games. Ah, male bonding.
My awesome OB checked all the different body parts out, and she pronounced him absolutely perfect. I couldn't agree more!
Now we just gotta think of some names...
Sunday, March 2, 2008
ye olde mixe tape
Jason and I had a rare opportunity to steal away for some romantic time together: no work, no distractions, no obligations. Just two days and two nights at a very lovely, quiet bed and breakfast in historic Gainesville, blocks away from not-so-quiet UF and The Swamp. It was wonderful, mostly because we didn't try to run around and sightsee or do a whole lot of stuff. I think that part might have been a challenge for my husband - he likes to be on the go, all the time, plus we passed a bazillion horse farms on the drive to Gainesville and he practically whinnied in longing.
Since we hadn't been able to celebrate Valentime's Day the way we'd wanted to, this was a belated V-Day getaway. I made him a mix CD and channeled old memories of the most awesome mix tape I'd received as a sophomore in high school from my friend Aaron, who I'm sure still makes great music mixes. I loved that tape. Played it over and over until it was finally chewed into sad little ribbons by my crappy tape player, just days before I started college. I loved it because it was both music I'd never heard and all the songs so perfectly matched who I was and where I was at the time. To this day, I still can't hear Leonard Cohen or Modern English without remembering the bittersweet memories of teenage angst and late night visits to Denny's with the drama club.
I set out to do that with Jason, and I thought I did a good job. I wanted a mix of love songs, not completely Top 40 drivel, suited to his folksy/indie style, not too sappy, but not all songs that we'd listened to together a billion times. Here's what I came up with:
I Only Want to Be With You - Shelby Lynne
Without You – Brooke Fraser
I Don’t Want to Live Without You – Foreigner
The Way I Am – Ingrid Michaelson
Luckiest One – Ben Folds
Simple Love – Alison Krauss
Little Moments – Brad Paisley
Hold You in My Arms – Ray LaMontagne
We Build – Nichole Nordeman
Arithmetic – Brooke Fraser
Ice Cream – Sarah McLachlan
Someone Like You – Van Morrison
Looking In the Eyes of Love – Alison Krauss & Union Station
Feels Like Home – Chantal Kreviazuk
Blood of Eden – Peter Gabriel
Baby Mine – Alison Krauss
I was pretty proud of it. My two favorites were the Ben Folds song, a completely random find on iTunes that knocked me over with only a 30-second sample, and Alison Krauss singing "Baby Mine", a song from Dumbo that I loved since I was a kid. I ended the CD with that song for many obvious reasons, and I hoped that since my belly was not yet in the round-and-out-there stage, it might help make Jumping Bean seem a little more tangible to him.
That first night at the bed and breakfast was the big unveil of the CD. Would he like it? Would it move him or just get a "that's nice, babe" response?
By the time we made it to Foreigner, his cheeks were wet and so were mine. Double score!
Since we hadn't been able to celebrate Valentime's Day the way we'd wanted to, this was a belated V-Day getaway. I made him a mix CD and channeled old memories of the most awesome mix tape I'd received as a sophomore in high school from my friend Aaron, who I'm sure still makes great music mixes. I loved that tape. Played it over and over until it was finally chewed into sad little ribbons by my crappy tape player, just days before I started college. I loved it because it was both music I'd never heard and all the songs so perfectly matched who I was and where I was at the time. To this day, I still can't hear Leonard Cohen or Modern English without remembering the bittersweet memories of teenage angst and late night visits to Denny's with the drama club.
I set out to do that with Jason, and I thought I did a good job. I wanted a mix of love songs, not completely Top 40 drivel, suited to his folksy/indie style, not too sappy, but not all songs that we'd listened to together a billion times. Here's what I came up with:
I Only Want to Be With You - Shelby Lynne
Without You – Brooke Fraser
I Don’t Want to Live Without You – Foreigner
The Way I Am – Ingrid Michaelson
Luckiest One – Ben Folds
Simple Love – Alison Krauss
Little Moments – Brad Paisley
Hold You in My Arms – Ray LaMontagne
We Build – Nichole Nordeman
Arithmetic – Brooke Fraser
Ice Cream – Sarah McLachlan
Someone Like You – Van Morrison
Looking In the Eyes of Love – Alison Krauss & Union Station
Feels Like Home – Chantal Kreviazuk
Blood of Eden – Peter Gabriel
Baby Mine – Alison Krauss
I was pretty proud of it. My two favorites were the Ben Folds song, a completely random find on iTunes that knocked me over with only a 30-second sample, and Alison Krauss singing "Baby Mine", a song from Dumbo that I loved since I was a kid. I ended the CD with that song for many obvious reasons, and I hoped that since my belly was not yet in the round-and-out-there stage, it might help make Jumping Bean seem a little more tangible to him.
That first night at the bed and breakfast was the big unveil of the CD. Would he like it? Would it move him or just get a "that's nice, babe" response?
By the time we made it to Foreigner, his cheeks were wet and so were mine. Double score!
how to raise a baby
This was shamelessly stolen from my dear friend Kelly's blog, because it made me laugh until I snorted, and I needed that after a not-so-great night at work. And also because she has a way-cool designed site now, and I am greatly jealous.
Saturday, February 23, 2008
diving into the deep end
I've announced it to my family, friends, and coworkers. I've written about it in 2 posts so far (3, counting this one) on this, my little corner of the Internet. I've added a ticker to my Facebook page. I've even shown up places wearing a maternity shirt (though in my defense, it looks very chic and un-maternity). I've mentioned I've had two beautiful ultrasounds and several reassurances from those with medical expertise that all is well and will likely continue to be well. I've had countless friends pray over me, with me, and for me.
So why am I still holding my breath?
Last night, at our church's leadership meeting, 70 of Grace's movers and shakers gathered in the church offices to eat BBQ, socialize, and dream together about how we can advance God's kingdom, particularly in the Orlando area. Nothing about babies. We ate, we prayed, we cast some great visions, we laughed, we listened to motivating talks, we ate some more. Still nothing about babies. I swallowed some of my anxiety and shyness and talked with people I hardly knew, along with old friends and familiar faces. I even got to eat a little BBQ with no gastrointestinal consequences. Again, no baby talk.
Except for maybe that icebreaker at the very beginning, a trivia game about the church.
The questions started out well enough: name the church's mission statement, guess how many diapers our children's director changed in one service, name the year when Mike decided to shave his head for good (totally works for him). And then... "Name the staff member whose wife is pregnant!" When it came time for the answers, everyone shouted out, "Jason!" and clapped and congratulated us and whooped and hollered. It was only slightly embarrassing.
As they moved on to the next question ("Which volunteer group gets the most recognition at Grace?**), I got this funny feeling in my my stomach, like butterflies. No, it wasn't the baby kicking - that would be a lot lower. The butterflies turned into some major tidal waves. And I had to step out for a second. Even when I came back, when the meeting ended and everyone was standing around chatting, I could still hear my name in conversation occasionally, and I felt my stomach flop around.
I can't tell you why I freaked out, having that very public confirmation that this pregnancy was very public and known. Maybe it's all the pregnancy hormones, the very common pre-birth jitters every mom faces before the big day arrives. Maybe I just got a little embarrassed. But let me tell you, for as much as I wanted the world to know that I am finally and successfully pregnant, that it wasn't a miscarriage or a false start, I also knew that I have no guarantee, no promise that nothing bad will happen, and sometimes, that lack of guarantee gives me the chills. And I can't remember any pain or embarrassment greater than the last time I had to tell all those people I told that I was pregnant that, no, it didn't work out, the pregnancy failed. I couldn't even tell my family, except to have Jason call and break the news.
Being pregnant has been a true test of my faith. I thought that two good ultrasounds under my belt would be reassurance enough, that I could start dreaming of pink ruffles or blue stripes and finally rest easy. But a life like that, as idyllic as it seems, leaves no room to need my God, and oh, do I need Him now. I need Him to carry this baby safely through the next several months, through the years of growing and exploring and falling down and heartache and joy and learning. I need Him to carry me when my child is the living representation of my heart beating outside of my body, and all the days I cannot hold that heart close enough to me. I need Him to tell me that He is in charge, especially when I am feeling completely helpless and out of control. Last night was one of those moments, a moment of pure fear and panic at the thought of all those good wishes and congratulations becoming empty and for nothing.
Trust in Him with all of your heart, and lean not on your own understanding...
**Just in case you wondered, the volunteer group that gets the most recognition? Refreshments, aka the Donut Gang. You can have a Sunday without worship music, without children's services, and even without the pastor teaching, but there is a holy uproar if there isn't some Krispy Kreme waiting for you when you get to church!
So why am I still holding my breath?
Last night, at our church's leadership meeting, 70 of Grace's movers and shakers gathered in the church offices to eat BBQ, socialize, and dream together about how we can advance God's kingdom, particularly in the Orlando area. Nothing about babies. We ate, we prayed, we cast some great visions, we laughed, we listened to motivating talks, we ate some more. Still nothing about babies. I swallowed some of my anxiety and shyness and talked with people I hardly knew, along with old friends and familiar faces. I even got to eat a little BBQ with no gastrointestinal consequences. Again, no baby talk.
Except for maybe that icebreaker at the very beginning, a trivia game about the church.
The questions started out well enough: name the church's mission statement, guess how many diapers our children's director changed in one service, name the year when Mike decided to shave his head for good (totally works for him). And then... "Name the staff member whose wife is pregnant!" When it came time for the answers, everyone shouted out, "Jason!" and clapped and congratulated us and whooped and hollered. It was only slightly embarrassing.
As they moved on to the next question ("Which volunteer group gets the most recognition at Grace?**), I got this funny feeling in my my stomach, like butterflies. No, it wasn't the baby kicking - that would be a lot lower. The butterflies turned into some major tidal waves. And I had to step out for a second. Even when I came back, when the meeting ended and everyone was standing around chatting, I could still hear my name in conversation occasionally, and I felt my stomach flop around.
I can't tell you why I freaked out, having that very public confirmation that this pregnancy was very public and known. Maybe it's all the pregnancy hormones, the very common pre-birth jitters every mom faces before the big day arrives. Maybe I just got a little embarrassed. But let me tell you, for as much as I wanted the world to know that I am finally and successfully pregnant, that it wasn't a miscarriage or a false start, I also knew that I have no guarantee, no promise that nothing bad will happen, and sometimes, that lack of guarantee gives me the chills. And I can't remember any pain or embarrassment greater than the last time I had to tell all those people I told that I was pregnant that, no, it didn't work out, the pregnancy failed. I couldn't even tell my family, except to have Jason call and break the news.
Being pregnant has been a true test of my faith. I thought that two good ultrasounds under my belt would be reassurance enough, that I could start dreaming of pink ruffles or blue stripes and finally rest easy. But a life like that, as idyllic as it seems, leaves no room to need my God, and oh, do I need Him now. I need Him to carry this baby safely through the next several months, through the years of growing and exploring and falling down and heartache and joy and learning. I need Him to carry me when my child is the living representation of my heart beating outside of my body, and all the days I cannot hold that heart close enough to me. I need Him to tell me that He is in charge, especially when I am feeling completely helpless and out of control. Last night was one of those moments, a moment of pure fear and panic at the thought of all those good wishes and congratulations becoming empty and for nothing.
Trust in Him with all of your heart, and lean not on your own understanding...
**Just in case you wondered, the volunteer group that gets the most recognition? Refreshments, aka the Donut Gang. You can have a Sunday without worship music, without children's services, and even without the pastor teaching, but there is a holy uproar if there isn't some Krispy Kreme waiting for you when you get to church!
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
the back-story
So, yes, I've had quite the secret to keep lately, being pregnant and not telling anyone! Jason and I wanted to wait until we were in the safety zone (second trimester with at least one good ultrasound under our belts) before spilling the beans. Here's sort of a recap of the past few months...
(Note: these next few paragraphs make reference to all sorts of things that might make you uncomfortable. Or not. If just knowing that I am pregnant is information enough, then bypass this post. For the curious, the pregnant, and the unfazeable few, here you go:)
We'd had some bad luck trying to become parents in the past. We made an appt for early January to see a fertility specialist, a physician who came highly recommended and who had also struggled through infertility with his own wife. We were looking forward to the appointment, eager for some answers and ready to do whatever we needed to do to make a successful, healthy pregnancy.
Then around the holidays, I start feeling all bloated. Moody. Hormonal. The "girls" were getting kind of sore. And the always-irregular monthly event wasn't showing up like I thought it would. Realize, of course, that Jason and I had not been trying to get pregnant. And Jason would be the first to say that there would be absolutely NO way I could be pregnant, as certain activities are necessary for that to happen, and those activities had not happened (for several reasons) for quite some time. He was sure about that. Definitely not happening.
Well, except for that one time.
And so, we found ourselves staring at two very strong, very pink lines, and wondering out loud, "You've GOT to be kidding me. I mean, SERIOUSLY. Come on." The fertility appt was only about a week and half away at that point, and the very large OB/GYN practice I normally see could never get me in that fast, even with chocolate and bribery, so we decided to keep the appointment, knowing that we could get an ultrasound done there, see if things were okay or not, and go from there. To be perfectly honest, we didn't allow ourselves to get excited: we've had false alarms with positive pregnancy tests before, and if this wasn't meant to be, we didn't want to create an even bigger fall by getting our hopes up. Still, the prenatal vitamins came out of hiding (ugh) and tried to take care of myself.
At the fertility appointment, an amusingly inept medical student took my history ("lymphoma? Lemme see how to spell that...") and talked to me about different options for fertility treatment... and then I told her that I was pretty sure I needed to have an ultrasound because I was pregnant. Her eyes got really, really wide, and I was quickly ushered into the ultrasound room. I met the doctor for the first time with my legs spread wide apart... but I didn't care, because the ultrasound tech was already showing me the strong heartbeat and a squirmy little baby, about 9 weeks along! Jason and I were dumbfounded. And the doctor shook our hands and said that we probably didn't need him anymore ;-)
Fast forward a few weeks, and our second ultrasound showed the same squirmy, bouncy baby, still with the strong heartbeat and perfect everything. We got a due date (Aug 21) and a picture (click here to see) and confirmation that we were going to be parents very, very soon!
Since then, I've been flooded with all sorts of emotions. We told the parents, who were all completely beside themselves with delight. We shared the news with friends, including a select few who had known since the very beginning and had been relentlessly on their knees, praying for us. We kept telling ourselves the good news, mostly in disbelief, then later with much excitement and joy.
And all the nausea, heartburn, soreness, mood swings, and endless doctor visits in the world cannot sway me from knowing that I am absolutely the most blessed woman on earth right now. God is good, all the time.
More updates to come...
(Note: these next few paragraphs make reference to all sorts of things that might make you uncomfortable. Or not. If just knowing that I am pregnant is information enough, then bypass this post. For the curious, the pregnant, and the unfazeable few, here you go:)
We'd had some bad luck trying to become parents in the past. We made an appt for early January to see a fertility specialist, a physician who came highly recommended and who had also struggled through infertility with his own wife. We were looking forward to the appointment, eager for some answers and ready to do whatever we needed to do to make a successful, healthy pregnancy.
Then around the holidays, I start feeling all bloated. Moody. Hormonal. The "girls" were getting kind of sore. And the always-irregular monthly event wasn't showing up like I thought it would. Realize, of course, that Jason and I had not been trying to get pregnant. And Jason would be the first to say that there would be absolutely NO way I could be pregnant, as certain activities are necessary for that to happen, and those activities had not happened (for several reasons) for quite some time. He was sure about that. Definitely not happening.
Well, except for that one time.
And so, we found ourselves staring at two very strong, very pink lines, and wondering out loud, "You've GOT to be kidding me. I mean, SERIOUSLY. Come on." The fertility appt was only about a week and half away at that point, and the very large OB/GYN practice I normally see could never get me in that fast, even with chocolate and bribery, so we decided to keep the appointment, knowing that we could get an ultrasound done there, see if things were okay or not, and go from there. To be perfectly honest, we didn't allow ourselves to get excited: we've had false alarms with positive pregnancy tests before, and if this wasn't meant to be, we didn't want to create an even bigger fall by getting our hopes up. Still, the prenatal vitamins came out of hiding (ugh) and tried to take care of myself.
At the fertility appointment, an amusingly inept medical student took my history ("lymphoma? Lemme see how to spell that...") and talked to me about different options for fertility treatment... and then I told her that I was pretty sure I needed to have an ultrasound because I was pregnant. Her eyes got really, really wide, and I was quickly ushered into the ultrasound room. I met the doctor for the first time with my legs spread wide apart... but I didn't care, because the ultrasound tech was already showing me the strong heartbeat and a squirmy little baby, about 9 weeks along! Jason and I were dumbfounded. And the doctor shook our hands and said that we probably didn't need him anymore ;-)
Fast forward a few weeks, and our second ultrasound showed the same squirmy, bouncy baby, still with the strong heartbeat and perfect everything. We got a due date (Aug 21) and a picture (click here to see) and confirmation that we were going to be parents very, very soon!
Since then, I've been flooded with all sorts of emotions. We told the parents, who were all completely beside themselves with delight. We shared the news with friends, including a select few who had known since the very beginning and had been relentlessly on their knees, praying for us. We kept telling ourselves the good news, mostly in disbelief, then later with much excitement and joy.
And all the nausea, heartburn, soreness, mood swings, and endless doctor visits in the world cannot sway me from knowing that I am absolutely the most blessed woman on earth right now. God is good, all the time.
More updates to come...
Monday, February 18, 2008
Monday may I correct you: mmmpfphmm
I had very good intentions for this week's Monday May I. I thought about addressing the simple your/you're debate as part of the ongoing Apostrophes Are Crucial trend. I considered talking about that/which usage. I even briefly thought about using the culturally-sensitive ask/"aks" interchange. I had such high hopes, I did.
But as I type this, I am flat on my back, on my living room couch that now has a permanent imprint of my backside on it, I'm sure. I'm gingerly sipping some citrus Gatorade and nibbling unsalted saltines, hoping I don't upset the evil Tasmanian devil that resides in my stomach. I haven't slept in over 24 hours, and yet, Taz won't calm down enough for me to catch even a little shut-eye, even though I am quite tired. And so, Monday May I Correct You is - for this week at least - Monday May I Please Stop Hurling. I'm guessing no one really wants to hear about that.
Ladies and gentlemen, I am certainly not complaining, though in the past I've been quite the wimp about pain and malaise and feeling under the weather. No, I am braving every turn of the stomach and queasy feeling, every dry heave (sorry) for a good reason:
I can't wait to meet our newest family member, due August 21, 2008.
Just wanted to introduce y'all.
Now, go work on your grammar skills. And get me some more Gatorade, please.
PS - Picture above is NOT aforementioned evil Tasmanian devil. At least I don't think so.
But as I type this, I am flat on my back, on my living room couch that now has a permanent imprint of my backside on it, I'm sure. I'm gingerly sipping some citrus Gatorade and nibbling unsalted saltines, hoping I don't upset the evil Tasmanian devil that resides in my stomach. I haven't slept in over 24 hours, and yet, Taz won't calm down enough for me to catch even a little shut-eye, even though I am quite tired. And so, Monday May I Correct You is - for this week at least - Monday May I Please Stop Hurling. I'm guessing no one really wants to hear about that.
Ladies and gentlemen, I am certainly not complaining, though in the past I've been quite the wimp about pain and malaise and feeling under the weather. No, I am braving every turn of the stomach and queasy feeling, every dry heave (sorry) for a good reason:
I can't wait to meet our newest family member, due August 21, 2008.
Just wanted to introduce y'all.
Now, go work on your grammar skills. And get me some more Gatorade, please.
PS - Picture above is NOT aforementioned evil Tasmanian devil. At least I don't think so.
Friday, February 15, 2008
happy valentime's day, a bit late
Once again, yes, it's Valentime's Day in our world. I don't know when or where we started calling it that instead of Valentine's Day, but it stuck and there you have it. J and I didn't do much to celebrate it tonight: Thursday nights are rehearsal nights for our worship team. But we all brought sweets, Chad gave us Warheads and a fantabulous copy of the church's 5th anniversary celebration from last week, and we all rocked out. Plus, I didn't have to work, and J and I got to occupy the same bed last night, AT THE SAME TIME. At least for a few hours.
Of course, with my wacked-out sleep schedule, I was only able to sleep until about 4am - since I'm used to being up all night - and then I was wide-awake, hungry, and completely unable to go back to sleep. Sigh...
Working the night shift, I haven't seen a whole lot of my husband. Sure, you think there will be lots of opportunity since I only work 3 nights a week... but sometimes he works late, or I have somewhere I need to be, or we both have rehearsal (we at least have that together), added in with my complete inability to sleep for more than 3 hours during the night, and, well, it makes for scanty us-time. (It also makes for scanty friend time as well, so to all my friends: I am not a hermit. I still love you all. Really.)
So, I'm mega-excited about next week: I work the early part of the week (Sun, Mon, Tues nights), have a few days off to hopefully attend to my sorely-neglected apartment, catch my breath, and then head off for a church staff retreat in Ocala with some very cool people at a nice hotel. And that's not even the best part: after the staff retreat ends on Monday afternoon, Jason and I are heading to a B & B in historic Gainesville to spend two whole days and nights together in a quaint little cottage with a Jacuzzi, and we will properly celebrate Valentime's Day and a very promising upcoming year for us.
And just in case you haven't seen it yet on some of my other favorite people's blogs, here's what I do every Sunday morning... and why I love it and all the people there. That's Chad at the very beginning... and see who else you can spot!
PS - We rent the actual building from a local Seventh-Day Adventist church, which is why you see us building everything up and tearing it down again instead of just leaving it as is.
Of course, with my wacked-out sleep schedule, I was only able to sleep until about 4am - since I'm used to being up all night - and then I was wide-awake, hungry, and completely unable to go back to sleep. Sigh...
Working the night shift, I haven't seen a whole lot of my husband. Sure, you think there will be lots of opportunity since I only work 3 nights a week... but sometimes he works late, or I have somewhere I need to be, or we both have rehearsal (we at least have that together), added in with my complete inability to sleep for more than 3 hours during the night, and, well, it makes for scanty us-time. (It also makes for scanty friend time as well, so to all my friends: I am not a hermit. I still love you all. Really.)
So, I'm mega-excited about next week: I work the early part of the week (Sun, Mon, Tues nights), have a few days off to hopefully attend to my sorely-neglected apartment, catch my breath, and then head off for a church staff retreat in Ocala with some very cool people at a nice hotel. And that's not even the best part: after the staff retreat ends on Monday afternoon, Jason and I are heading to a B & B in historic Gainesville to spend two whole days and nights together in a quaint little cottage with a Jacuzzi, and we will properly celebrate Valentime's Day and a very promising upcoming year for us.
And just in case you haven't seen it yet on some of my other favorite people's blogs, here's what I do every Sunday morning... and why I love it and all the people there. That's Chad at the very beginning... and see who else you can spot!
PS - We rent the actual building from a local Seventh-Day Adventist church, which is why you see us building everything up and tearing it down again instead of just leaving it as is.
Monday, February 11, 2008
Monday may I correct you: lose vs. loose
Oh, I know. I haven't checked in AT ALL since last Monday, even though I said I would. I promise this won't become the grammar corner, though I have to admit that I received a whopping four comments on last Monday's post, more than I typically get, so maybe I'm on to something.
Anyway, this won't be too long. I see the lose/loose mix-up everywhere, because - let's face it - there aren't too many people who aren't trying to drop at least a few pounds these days. Or their favorite sports teams don't win all the time. Or they chronically misplace things. Whatever. It's all over the place.
So, to clarify: "lose" is a verb. It's an action being done. As in, "I would like to lose some weight." Or, "I hate it when the Packers lose the Super Bowl." (hehe hehe) One "o" followed by a "z" sound.
"Loose" sounds like "noose" or "goose". It's also most commonly used as an adjective used to describe, not a verb. (You can actually "loose" something, as in making it loose/less tight, but that's another discussion) As in, "I lost weight, so now my clothes are loose." Or, "That bolt is loose and needs to be tightened." Or, "I have a loose tooth". Two "o"'s, followed by a hissy "s" sound. It describes something that is not tight or secure.
So, if you write that you want to drop some pounds, you want to lose weight (action you want to do) so your jeans will be loose (description of how you want your jeans to be). If you "loose" weight, that creates the very unattractive picture of your exact same weight, all your belly rolls still gathered around your waist, just... less dense. Floppy. Not as tightly connected to your body. And that's just gross, people. No one wants that.
On that same subject, if you want to insult someone, they are a "loser". One "o", "z" sound. They are not a "looser", which would mean they run around making things less tight.
Ready to put your new-fangled knowledge to the test?
--I'm so fat. I need to lose/loose some weight.
--If you screw up the next game, we're going to lose/loose the tournament.
--Bubba Jo punched me in the face, so my two front teeth are a little lose/loose.
--My iPod shuffle is so tiny, it is easy to lose/loose.
--In my day, women who slept around were called "lose/loose".
--I can't believe that jerk stood me up. He's such a loser/looser.
Answers:
--I'm so fat. I need to lose/loose some weight.
--If you screw up the next game, we're going to lose/loose the tournament.
--Bubba Jo punched me in the face, so my two front teeth are a little lose/loose.
--My iPod shuffle is so tiny, it is easy to lose/loose.
--In my day, women who slept around were called "lose/loose".
--I can't believe that jerk stood me up. He's such a loser/looser.
Anyway, this won't be too long. I see the lose/loose mix-up everywhere, because - let's face it - there aren't too many people who aren't trying to drop at least a few pounds these days. Or their favorite sports teams don't win all the time. Or they chronically misplace things. Whatever. It's all over the place.
So, to clarify: "lose" is a verb. It's an action being done. As in, "I would like to lose some weight." Or, "I hate it when the Packers lose the Super Bowl." (hehe hehe) One "o" followed by a "z" sound.
"Loose" sounds like "noose" or "goose". It's also most commonly used as an adjective used to describe, not a verb. (You can actually "loose" something, as in making it loose/less tight, but that's another discussion) As in, "I lost weight, so now my clothes are loose." Or, "That bolt is loose and needs to be tightened." Or, "I have a loose tooth". Two "o"'s, followed by a hissy "s" sound. It describes something that is not tight or secure.
So, if you write that you want to drop some pounds, you want to lose weight (action you want to do) so your jeans will be loose (description of how you want your jeans to be). If you "loose" weight, that creates the very unattractive picture of your exact same weight, all your belly rolls still gathered around your waist, just... less dense. Floppy. Not as tightly connected to your body. And that's just gross, people. No one wants that.
On that same subject, if you want to insult someone, they are a "loser". One "o", "z" sound. They are not a "looser", which would mean they run around making things less tight.
Ready to put your new-fangled knowledge to the test?
--I'm so fat. I need to lose/loose some weight.
--If you screw up the next game, we're going to lose/loose the tournament.
--Bubba Jo punched me in the face, so my two front teeth are a little lose/loose.
--My iPod shuffle is so tiny, it is easy to lose/loose.
--In my day, women who slept around were called "lose/loose".
--I can't believe that jerk stood me up. He's such a loser/looser.
Answers:
--I'm so fat. I need to lose/loose some weight.
--If you screw up the next game, we're going to lose/loose the tournament.
--Bubba Jo punched me in the face, so my two front teeth are a little lose/loose.
--My iPod shuffle is so tiny, it is easy to lose/loose.
--In my day, women who slept around were called "lose/loose".
--I can't believe that jerk stood me up. He's such a loser/looser.
Monday, February 4, 2008
Monday may I correct you: its/it's
Okay, I confess: I am a grammar nut. I don't always practice what I preach, especially when blogging, because you will see me start sentences with "and" and "but", end sentences with prepositions, and throw in random slang ("Fo' shizzle") that I have neither the license nor the street cred to use. (See? "Cred." Perfect example.)
And (!) now that I have completely dorked out for you, let me make my original point. Like I mentioned, I don't always write as I should, but I do have some major grammar/wording sticking points, mistakes that, when I see them, stick out like huge red pimples on the nose of prose. Instead of bitching about it, I thought I would share what I know. It's not much, but here goes:
(I sense a blogging series coming on. A short one, I promise. Bear with me.)
Today's lesson: its and it's. Know the difference? Take this short quiz to see:
--The cat swished its/it's tail as it left the room.
--Its/It's such a gorgeous day outside.
--Its/It's silver waterfall scenes are breathtaking.
--Its/It's so dark outside that I cannot see its/it's hand waving at me.
--The bird lifted its/it's wing into the air.
Think you got it? Answers:
--The cat swished its/it's tail as it left the room.
--Its/It's such a gorgeous day outside.
--Its/It's silver waterfall scenes are breathtaking.
--Its/It's so dark outside that I cannot see its/it's hand waving at me.
--The bird lifted its/it's wing into the air.
If you got them all correct, congratulate yourself and go make me some potstickers. I'm hungry.
If you didn't and you want to know how to be the Its/It's pro, read on.
So, how do you know which one to use?
If you are referring to possession, use "its". Yes, I know that's confusing, especially since we are always told to put an -'s at the end of things to make them posssessive: Anne's shoes, Gary's car, the girl's purse, the school's funds. Trust me, though, that "its" falls outside of that rule. This next point might clear it up a bit, too:
"It's" stands for "it is". If you are completely stumped as to whether to use "its" or "it's", ask yourself this: does the sentence still make since if I say "it is" instead of "its"? Example:
Its/it's a beautiful day. Which one to use? Hmmm... "it is" a beautiful day. Yup, still makes sense. The correct one is "it's".
The cat drank its/it's milk. Stumped again! The cat drank "it is" milk. Well, that just sounds unnatural and lame. Must be "its".
Bottom line: if it still makes sense to say "it is" instead of "its/it's", then use the apostrophe. If it sounds completely weird, dump the apostrophe like a bad boyfriend.
Thank you, boys and girls. Let's go out for recess now...
And (!) now that I have completely dorked out for you, let me make my original point. Like I mentioned, I don't always write as I should, but I do have some major grammar/wording sticking points, mistakes that, when I see them, stick out like huge red pimples on the nose of prose. Instead of bitching about it, I thought I would share what I know. It's not much, but here goes:
(I sense a blogging series coming on. A short one, I promise. Bear with me.)
Today's lesson: its and it's. Know the difference? Take this short quiz to see:
--The cat swished its/it's tail as it left the room.
--Its/It's such a gorgeous day outside.
--Its/It's silver waterfall scenes are breathtaking.
--Its/It's so dark outside that I cannot see its/it's hand waving at me.
--The bird lifted its/it's wing into the air.
Think you got it? Answers:
--The cat swished its/it's tail as it left the room.
--Its/It's such a gorgeous day outside.
--Its/It's silver waterfall scenes are breathtaking.
--Its/It's so dark outside that I cannot see its/it's hand waving at me.
--The bird lifted its/it's wing into the air.
If you got them all correct, congratulate yourself and go make me some potstickers. I'm hungry.
If you didn't and you want to know how to be the Its/It's pro, read on.
So, how do you know which one to use?
If you are referring to possession, use "its". Yes, I know that's confusing, especially since we are always told to put an -'s at the end of things to make them posssessive: Anne's shoes, Gary's car, the girl's purse, the school's funds. Trust me, though, that "its" falls outside of that rule. This next point might clear it up a bit, too:
"It's" stands for "it is". If you are completely stumped as to whether to use "its" or "it's", ask yourself this: does the sentence still make since if I say "it is" instead of "its"? Example:
Its/it's a beautiful day. Which one to use? Hmmm... "it is" a beautiful day. Yup, still makes sense. The correct one is "it's".
The cat drank its/it's milk. Stumped again! The cat drank "it is" milk. Well, that just sounds unnatural and lame. Must be "its".
Bottom line: if it still makes sense to say "it is" instead of "its/it's", then use the apostrophe. If it sounds completely weird, dump the apostrophe like a bad boyfriend.
Thank you, boys and girls. Let's go out for recess now...
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