Waiting

My friend and I are really good at waiting. Until we talk to each other. Which is every day and sometimes twice a day. Plus emailing.

Here is a statement from today's conversation, courtesy of my Really Bad At Waiting Friend who is a terrible influence on me:

"I just want to go to an Ethiopian restaurant. And sit there. And smell bad."

Me too.

A verse

Everything is making me think about Ethiopia: Eli's geography lessons, Levi's social studies lessons on Africa, and now a song called "Glory Revealed." It's Isaiah 40 sung:

3 A voice cries:
“In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord;
make straight in the desert a highway for our God.
4 Every valley shall be lifted up,
and every mountain and hill be made low;
the uneven ground shall become level,
and the rough places a plain.
5 And the glory of the Lord shall be revealed,
and all flesh shall see it together,
for the mouth of the Lord has spoken.”

I love to think that God will make a way, possibly through a desert, for our little girl to come home. And may all see the glory of the Lord.

Christmas Card Pictures?

We usually take our Christmas card pictures in October. This year, I have at least 3 major reasons to hesitate:

1. If we get a baby, I'll want to send out another card.

2. Levi just lost his fourth tooth. From the top front. He smiles and there are not any teeth to be seen.

3. The boys have not grown out of their home haircuts yet.

Maybe it's time for a new family picture called, "Everyone Sketch Themselves." Sounds like it has potential. Then I'll just crop in a beautiful, hot, dusty infant and we're good to go.

American Shopping vs. Ethiopian Babies

I was in a store today that featured all sorts of things for a little girl's room: signs that said "I'm a Princess;" pillows that said the same thing, stuffed animals and fairy dresses and crowns and beds with matching dressers. I think all that would be all right except that today I also read about some things kids in Ethiopia face during their "princess phase:" rickets, malnutrition, abandonment. The contrast couldn't be more stark.

I read an article that said "infants are usually hot and dusty."

All that to say, I cannot wait to get my arms around a hot, dusty, abandoned, malnourished princess.

Joel's reaction

Joel read the post, "While the Husband is Away...."

He had two comments:

1. You didn't know that soap was for dishes in the sink? I knew that.

2. The word you were looking for in the soccer game was "foul."

Some Things Wisconsin

Two signs tonight on my drive through a part of Wisconsin that struck me as very.....Wisconsiny.

1. Meat Raffle--sign on a "tavern"

2. TOPLESS silo--sign hanging from a mailbox that preceded, yes, a topless silo leaning against a modest (?) silo

I'm originally from Iowa. I've even lived in the country part of Iowa where I was advised to "not wash my windows until after harvest." I was asked at the grocery store, "Who brought in these green beans?" But I've never seen a meat raffle nor a topless silo. And after this post, I'm pretty sure God will have me move near to both.

While the Husband is Away, the Wife Will....

5:30 am: Joel leaves to go on a 50 mile run. He'll be gone until at least 10:00 tonight.

9:30 am: I take a look at each boy and decide they might be easier to shape up than it will be to put away the laundry. They each come to the 47 degree garage in pj pants and sit on a cooler. I turn on the "professional" clippers and think, "How hard can this be? Really..." The answer is, it's not hard to cut hair. It is very hard to make hair look good. My best description is: put a wild animal on top of each child's hair. Let them chew on the hair for 5-7 minutes. Take wild animal off. Have child shower. Yes, that's the look we have.

12:45 pm: Coach Levi's soccer team. All was well until #12 on the other team, smiling, injures three of my players, Levi twice. Suddenly, I find myself yelling, as most professional soccer coaches and believers in Christ would...."HEY!"

The game stopped. I'm on my own private island of shrillness. "Ummmm. Him, #12. He's hurting other kids. A lot." I had more pairs of eyes fixed on me than at any other point in my history. "Ok, then," says the other coach. "Cougars throw in?" I don't know what I was expecting: "Yes, you're right Coach Button. Never been a better call."

2:00 pm: I'm home, decided to run the dishwasher. Decided to use my new little soap packet that I picked up for free at a running expo. It's marked "Dish Soap." I squeezed it into the dishwasher. Twenty minutes later, there are bubbles on my floor. There are bubbles filling the dishwasher. I re-read the little free packet. No warning label. Just a stick figure lady admiring her wine glass as she holds a towel.

I had nothing to admire. The basil smell that sounded good in print was not as attractive when it was a basil film covering every one of my dishes. So, if you're ever tempted, at Target, to buy the Meyer's Dish Soap, I would say don't bother. Don't spend the extra money. It may look good but who has ever actually longed for basil-milk, basil-juice, basil-macaroni and cheese, basil-apples, basil-waffles and basil-coffee?

I did wash our bath mats today. For some reason, that feels like a bigger accomplishment than it actually is but I'm holding out there nonetheless. A day like this needs a trophy and here are my bath mats to do the honors.