Kimmie's belated birthday celebration...

I wasn't able to be with Kimmie for her birthday, so when she came down, Eric and I decided to throw her a little belated birthday party. We got her a cake. That's Hello Kitty. And a Hello Kitty backpack. Of course, there's a long story behind that...

We also went to see UP. In 3D. Hence, the ultra cool glasses. And, naturally, Kim brought her Hello Kitty backpack.

Our new wheels...

We got bikes.
Our first big married-life investment--bikes. That suits us.
And it's good, 'cause we're both a little porkier than we'd like to be right now.

One of the first weekends we had them, we took the canal from La Salle to Ottawa and back. Something like 33 miles, once you add in coming from our place and our detour to Charlie's baseball game. Not too shabby.
We were definitely hurting after that. A leeeettle saddle-sore. Yowza.


Anyway, there's us, doing the bike thing.

How close is too close?

I never imagined that I'd end up living in the Illinois Valley, living in the same community as my parents.

But, here we are.

And, as it turns out, I quite like it.

In fact, we've been spending a lot of time with my parents lately--laboring to get their rental house ready for us to move into, and just hanging around--and Eric and I agree, it's nice to have family so close. It's nice to be able to just drop by the house, or have them drop by here. It's nice to get together for dinner, or run errands together.

And I think Eric is fitting in well. We're still doing our "What I Like About You Today" thing, and after a time with my parents, my "What I Like About You" almost always includes my liking how he gets on with my dad and mom. It's just a really good deal.

But how close is too close?

Mom and I were shopping at Kohl's this week, and I went into the dressing room to try on a few things. I came out, toting some shorts and a shirt that I liked. And just as I was coming out, Mom was going in... carrying the same shirt I had in my hand.

Weird. Just weird.

And maybe a little too close.

Eric, on fatherhood...

Eric had his first inkling toward fatherhood just recently.

It didn't come from seeing his brother's adorable new little one last weekend.

It didn't come from my cooing at how cute the baby clothes were as I craned my neck to see the baby aisle at Target, while Eric grabbed my hand tighter and yanked me away.

It didn't even come from God's Word, the command to be fruitful and multiply or the heavy charge relating to bringing up children in the Way.

It came yesterday at church.

It was Fathers Day, as you're likely well aware, and our church gave copies of John Piper's 31-day devotional, Life as a Vapor, to all the dads, as a gift.

Apparently that's what got him.

He turned to me, patted my knee and said... "Andi, we've got to start having kids. I'm missing out here."

Yup.

Eric finally sees the reward of fatherhood, and he wants to capitalize.

Sigh.

;)

Hung up on the Alamo...

One of my students brought me a hanging plant as a gift on the last day of school.

It left me a little depressed.

I have no where to hang it.

We only have this teensy, teensy window. And no porch to speak of.

So, like I said... no where to hang it.

Sigh.

Sometimes I get really sad about where we live. I mean, our little cave is nice. But sometimes the no-windows thing really gets to me. It's just so... gloomy in here.

But there are good things about our little nest. It's unique. It looks like the Alamo from the outside. Not many people can say that. It has carpet everywhere. And in the strangest places. Like... on the walls. And in the bathroom. And in the kitchen. And it's all different carpet. Umm... the loft part is really cute. (Blue shag carpet.) And we made a nice little sitting area up there. That we never use. Sigh. The kitchen has pale blue cabinets. And pink walls. Whimper. Oh! We have the best shower head ever. A wedding gift!

I'm going to think about the shower head from now on, when I see my hanging plant sitting anyhowly next to the front door.

power struggle...

eric says i turn into a 5-year-old in the mornings.

but that's only because i'm trying to act like a 5-year-old.

here's the thing--eric got out of school a whole week before i did. and he threatened to sleep in every morning i still had to go to work, because i've very much enjoyed--and expressed my enjoyment in--the fact that i don't have to be at work until an hour after he does. and i'm always the last out of bed.

so he began the week trying to be the last out of bed.

and so i began using every 5-year-old, preschool tactic i knew to get him out of bed before me.

limp noodle.
puppy pout.
poking. tickling.
trying to barrel-roll him out of bed with my feet.
outright whining.
guilt-tripping.
sweet-talking.
and acting as needy as possible.

i was afraid nothing would work, and we'd be in a stalemate long after i was meant to be at work.

but something must've.

because i've always been snuggled in the covers at least a few minutes after he's left the warm nest.

(i win! i win!)

i wonder if i can keep this up all summer...