Ender

Just some pictures since we got Ender our sweet kitten to share with the world. Ender is named after Ender Wiggin of the "Ender's Game" fame by Orson Scott Card. If you have never read the book "Ender's Game" you simply must, and if you have read that book you should move on to "Speaker for the Dead." In that book the Ender character becomes fully fleshed out and a moving picture of harmony is ultimately painted. Moving on...



Ender with Dan and me on the first day. It's amazing how little and tiny he is!

What do you mean you're going to the Boundary Waters and leaving me wif Dan? I can haz Kate home now plz?


My teeth may look small and unassuming, but they are sharp talons of pain!


Our little boy has grown up so much. Here you can see that red bear used to be his favorite toy and was the perfect size, now he has grown "up" to his blue bear doll which is more his size. For cute.

Pre Wedding Present Adventures. Hooray!

Dan and I outside of his apartment. We look like we're going on a walk.
The first boxes arrive....anticipation builds. We decide that we don't want to wait until we get married to start opening them.
What is it going to be? I thought it was something large, I was obviously unaware of how much packing material they include in these boxes. Quite misleading.
"I'm not sure what it is but it sure is shiny!"
Where are we going? I'm not sure but I look excited.
"What did we order that is shaped like this?" was often our pre-opening question game. Little did we guess that a tent was inside. I think that we thought it was a folding chair.
Nope, no more presents in here. I checked for you.

I think that I'm frustrated with the packing tape. Obviously fake pouting helps.

reviving flames

Friendships are funny beasts. Sustained by different interests and issues, it is difficult to pinpoint which ones will keep and which ones will fade away. Worse still are those that don't fade away, but self destruct -- leaving a scorch marks on memories and souls. More beautiful still is when the smoldering ashes are revived to a life-giving fire. Those friendships that had the fire and passion to errupt are sometimes the ones that have life enough left to revive time and again.

Dong laundry and listening to a tape made in high school from a friendship that faded away forever, I was struck by the thought that our friendship was never equal. In the end, she had and I wanted to take -- be it popularity, intelligence, ease with boys, wit and charm, or what have you -- not truly realizing what I had to offer of myself. And, ultimately, she was able to seek those friends whose inner security lied within themselves, not to be found in others, and I was left out to dry. The interest in the friendship was ultimately mine. In the end we outgrew our equality.

There is grace in the reviving flame. It gives warmth, it needs air and room to breathe. In college I gained and nearly lost another great friendship. The friendship grew off balance, gaining steam and passion as it grew nearer and nearer to careening off-course and when it did, the smouldering embers left few unscorched. More greatful and thankful am I, however, of this friendship nearly lost but now found. I regret some decisions but closure and forgiveness have shown me the growth and health that have come forth from time spent apart. The other friendship, it was never resolved. I miss her still. No longer in the gut wrenching "Why does my best friend no longer like me?" angst, but in the lonely melancholy of lives that, growing apart take bits and pieces of yourself with them. Life, once to intertwined are no longer. There was no grace, no forgiveness, no explanation.

Listening to that mix tape, I was overcome by how close we were to not showing each other grace. To not forgiving. To living lives apart, taking bits and pieces of the other with us. By the grace found in the One outside of ourselves, that didn't happen. And I share in a friendship that is life giving, healthy, safe and a place to go to find myself again. I am so thankful, so blessed.

Sing It Loud So I Can Hear You

Ender is more thrown by the marriage than we are. Dan and I are basically going about life as usual (for the most part). But whenever it comes time to go to bed, Ender doesn't quite know what to do. For starters, I'm still sleeping on the same side of the bed, but his space is taken up by Dan. Who he loves, but isn't used to him not leaving come bedtime. So then Ender sleeps on top of me possesively until he decides that Dan isn't a threat and then wanders off.

Mornings are also different. Ender gets up with Dan (who rises earlier than I do) but then decides that I have to get up to. So I woke up to a wet, hard nose in my eye this morning. "Go away Ender, go bug Dan!" Ender responds by pouncing on me. Apparently I have to get up too. No snooze buttons this morning. Or yesterday, really.

Sigh.

Last night, Dan and I were sitting on opposite couches for awhile. Ender would jump up and snuggle with Dan for about 10 minutes. And then hop off and come over to me. 10 minutes later he would transition back. Incredibly funny. He's adjusting quite well, though. Things will certainly become more "normal" for him soon.

Other than that. The wedding was nearly perfect. The honeymoon to Duluth was wonderful. Being back to work is zero fun, but okay in the end. I enjoy being married, and I enjoy finding that it's not overly different than life before. I hesitate to say it, but at the moment, life is okay, life is good.

Smile Like You Mean It

We still have a lot to do, but two days of long hours have brought about significant change in our house. As I exited the church and headed for home, a crisp breeze moved my hair to dance in the wind, face upturned to catch a sunbeam a smile splits my face in two. I find myself skipping a bit, unconsciously, as I cross the parking lot towards home. Home. Something to be proud of. Something that we have created together, something that is us, not just mine and not just his. A shared pride in the small life that we are creating together. Entering the door, I scoop up the already purring kitten cuddling him to my chest as I cross the house, turning on the newly fixed furnace. Taking time to look at the spare bedroom, hang my purse on the chair, my puffy vest on the coat rack. Taking in the newness of this place, savoring it before this life becomes routine, savoring the assurance that routine brings to life.

It is somehow possible that Saturday is only moments away. Possible that dreams and hopes and prayers are becoming reality. There is no where else I would rather be, then celebrating with my nearest and dearest. Life lately is fully of adventure and comfort. Joy and happy tears. Warm sunshine and cold breezes. I consider myself blessed.

rearrange, realign

Growing up, I rearranged my room approximately once every two months. I would get the urge, minimally think about it and start moving things around. Lasting usually until about two o'clock in the morning, a new beginning in my room's history would take place. I would start getting the itch, the need to rearrange, to change, to start anew. I would uncover found treasures and heartaches as I cleaned under the bed and from old drawers. I would pause and reflect as I created a fresh, new space.

Last night took me back to those late Friday and Saturday nights rearranging my room. Sunday had found us moving most of Dan's possessions into our house, haphazardly intermingling with furniture and scattered piles that had been in places for weeks and months. Last night we spent time rearranging. Unpacking, moving, cleaning, realigning lives. As difficult as it can be to have someone elses things move into my space (because space is a holy thing in the United States) moving your possessions into unknown space is possibly more intimidating.

Which is where the idea of realigning comes into play. No longer are we independently arranging our lives around our priorities, we are rearranging our lives together. In order for Dan and I to synthesize, we have to realign our priorities. And isn't this the definition of love? Your priorities are realigned, the focus comes off of you and your things (or your precious space) and moves towards the idea of an other, or in this case: an us. A new life. A life moving beyond where we are now. This realignment takes time, as Dan continually reminds me. Our couches won't look like they match, space will probably be an occasional issue until we figure out our pattern, our routine, our understanding of this new life becomes just life as we know it. It may be years until our living room looks like a cohesive whole. But until then, the fragments of our single lives are coming together, fusing, aligning, creating a pictures of who we are from who we have always been. For the moment, the parameters are clearer but in time the "us" will shine through even more.

I'm excited. I'm weary from moving. Weary from rearranging. But invigorated still. Our lives coming together to create something of beauty. May it always be so.