Video Clips from the Beach Trip

1.The demolition of Daddy's sand castle; 2/ Bustin' some moves on the Boardwalk; 3.And braving the wind--we had to RUN across the dry sand (because it was stinging us as it blew by) to get to the wet sand, to be able to valiantly spend as much time as we could in one of our favorite places, beside the sea.

September in Ocean City

When your three year old dubs a trailer on the Bay side "The Little Cottage," it starts four days at the beach off on the right foot--full of gratitude and wonder. While the weather started out windy and got windier, the sea still held its restorative power over us. While our idyllic cottage life was slightly marred by the demolition of the next-door trailer (each morning at 7 am) and Evelyn's major poo poo accident (which she very sweetly tried to clean up herself), we still made GOOD memories. My parents were staying 100 streets away & we enjoyed skee ball on the Boardwalk, a few successful meals out, and time together outdoors. They also gave us a date night, which we used to go out to a great OC restaurant we'd recommend to anyone, "Liquid Assets."

And enjoy the slide show--I'm pretty excited about it, myself!

Modern Non-Dance

Just check them out--check them out! And if you live here in the Baltimore area, get involved!! This is cool, this is my cousin Joshua and his wife, Laura, and they are living with us while working on this very unique project. I'll probably talk about it more later, but just check it out at www.publicmoves.net!

The family photo shoot on "the Big Hill" as Evelyn calls it, produced THE official poster, and note the poster-children from left to right: Uncle Steve & Aunt Joan (Josh's parents), Cousin Kate, Mom, and Anna.

This one might be worth skipping...

...if you like pictures and funny stories.

Last night I was on cousin-in-law Alyson's blog wondering how on earth she keeps her home, raises three children, enjoyably juggles her friendships, regularly updates her blog (which is amazingly entertaining!), and (now that I am a face book member, too) regularly updates her face book account. If I lived closer, I'd probably be even more amazed at everything that goes on.

Then there's Di, who home schools her daughters, drives all three kids between soccer, gymnastics, and cheerleading, somehow keeps her floors clean, cleans OTHER people's houses, trains for a marathon, reads great literature, does in-depth Bible studies, and is a good friend to a lot of people.

And LuraLynn, who teaches music full time K-12 on a Native American Reservation & is the head of all the disciplinary issues in the school (and travels to various conferences all over the country) while raising her son, running a ranch, and living as a central part of a lovely web of family and community.

Let's not forget Di's cousin-in-law, Robin, whom I know only casually but onto whose blog I frequently creep. Her young sons have their own set of challenges, and yet she and her husband continually draw their strength and joy from the Lord to see the beauty, gift, and humor He has given them.

Since I am at a busy place in my life w/little ones, these people's lives jump out at me. I am in awe--just a little jealous--but definitely in awe.

So that urges me to be content. I have a great life. I love to play with my kids and take them places and be outside, and I love my jazz-piano husband and the music that fills our lives. I have loved my new job and the adventure of learning new things, and in the midst of that we host lots of friends and family in our 1912 house in a city neighborhood, and we have a precious church family who humbly and simply encourage us to seek Jesus.

But I feel very disorganized and unkepmt and tired. I hate that when I get a rare few moments to myself, I often fritter them away doing something stupid rather than doing something simple and precious that would actually refresh my spirit, mind, and body. I hate that the things I so dearly love--my husband, my children, my family members, being outside, being creative--are often the things that either get brushed aside (sometimes one for the other, which is still dissatisfying) or get done in too much of a hurry to savor. And then I'm just on-edge and I get, as Alan and Esther will note, "that tone" in my voice, usually accompanied by a set jaw.

I'm not really looking for answers right now, just an outlet. I'm sitting here in desperate need of a shower, surrounded by mess, longing to know that "the joy of the Lord is my strength," and am coming up just this side of empty. The hardest part is the thought that my children, when they start to make the deeper, more spiritual connections of life, will say, "Yeah, my mom was a Christian, but she was always so tired and grumpy and trying so hard to do all that stuff. I'm not sure being a Christian really made much of a difference in her life."

What I want them to remember is kindness, gentleness, love (especially reactions in love and not anger), and fun.

This blog has kind of become my journal and my photo album rolled into one. The fact that other people might read and see it is just encouragement to "keep no record of wrongs," (I Cor. 13:5) and to "do all things without grumbling or complaining." (Phil.2:14.) So is this "grumbling and complaining?" I'm tempted to think it is not...I'm not slandering anyone...am I feeling sorry for myself? I don't really think so...I feel like I'm just laying it all out there, something I'm not sure I do that much (or maybe I don't know myself very well.) I am very naturally a positive, optimistic person who genuinely likes people and can get a kick out of doing pretty much anything. But right now I just needed to talk a little to myself and my friends and family to whom I am accountable in this world (in this blog-world, at least.) I think my mom would just tell me I'm tired and I'm trying to do too much. And she's probably right.

More of Alan's concert weekend...

One of last weekend's great bonuses was that Alan's parents and sister came up for Saturday night's concert. During the day, Grandma Blackman treated the girls and me to our first visit to Port Discovery (and lunch!)--it was a great "girls' day out." We saw as much as we could in those hours and had some precious Grandma Blackman time. Amelia could have spent another hour in the ball pit & Evelyn could have spent the rest of her life in the giant climbing apparatus. (And take note of Evelyn's current "cheese" smile and Amelia's new ponytail look!)

Saturday night Esther came over to watch the girls, and then we all drove together and heard Alan and Ferenc play at a place called Jazzway, where this couple has created a really cool concert space in their very cool home. They cook a gourmet meal prior to the concert, so the whole thing feels like an upscale dinner party with soiree to follow. I felt very urban and hip!

The whole weekend was special, but it made it extra special to spend that time with family we do not get to see enough, and to make some more memories together. Thank you, Grandma & Grandpa Blackman and Aunt Becky!

The Alan Concert Weekend

This is Ferenc (pronounced "Fur-REHNK"). He's originally from Hungary, but now lives in NYC and plays drums. He is, in Alan's words, "On another level" when it comes to jazz--he is AWESOME. Alan made contact w/Ferenc through some of his University of Miami fellow alumni and via the internet planned this past weekend's concerts, hiring Ferenc to come down and play.

Even though drenching rain, time constraints, and hiccups in the recording set-up all posed problems, the weekend was full of art, good will and entertaining conversation. Ferenc is enthusiastic, friendly, and LOVES kids. He was flying Evelyn around the house within the first 30 seconds he'd met her, which, translated, is this: He is her new boyfriend. She could not get enough of Mr. Ferenc, and little Amelia was able, as always, to overcome her own shyness through her big sister's complete lack thereof.

Ferenc, for being a musician at a level of touring and recording with big name artists, is incredibly down-to-earth and takes genuine pleasure in people. He was honestly upset that I failed to introduce him to my parents at the Saturday night concert, and disappointed that I couldn't stay up past 1 am to visit on our front porch swing. (Since I was unable to sleep past noon the next day, which was likely the source of much of HIS verve.)

It was really wonderful to hear my husband play HIS music. He usually has to play other people's music, or the music requested by the person hiring him for the gig, but what a treat to play the stuff he writes and arranges, which, in my opinion, is amazing. I loved sitting in the audience watching him, suddenly renewed in my awareness of his talent and the blessing it is to share a life with this much art in it. (Much, much more about art in our lives yet to come!) And hopefully (cross your fingers, everyone!!!) a new recording of Alan's music will soon follow!

Given that we had so many family & friends participate in this weekend, this quote by E. Margaret Clarkson feels apropos:

"Friendships, family ties, the companionship of little children, an autumn forest flung in prodigality against a deep blue sky, the intricate design and haunting fragrance of a flower, the counterpoint of a Bach fugue or the melodic line of a Beethoven sonata, the fluted note of the bird song, the glowing glory of a sunset; the world is aflame with things of eternal moment."

Epic Friendship, Epic Celebration

So what do YOU want to do for YOUR 40th birthday? I thought I'd had a great idea when I decided to do 40 things I'd never done before, but Di's idea is the BEST--she wants to hike the 40 miles of Appalachian Trail that are in our state of MD!

Di is one of God's provisions for me...she is a sister, one of my life's dearest gifts, and she "gets me." It is a most comfortable friendship, but also one that encourages, stretches, and pushes me to be in love with Jesus and a student of His word. Her influence and inspiration has helped make me who I am.

So on Di's 40th birthday, August 28th, it was the BEST thing to be able to join her on the first "training hike" for the epic 40 miles to come. The hope was to do 10 miles with 30 pound packs, and we probably did 9 miles (the trail wasn't really easy to find in a few spots), although our packs were likely heavy enough. I'd tossed my heaviest hardcover Bible in mine, along with huge, full water bottles and some gear. Di's bag had nearly a six pack of Diet Coke, bricks, and food. (You can see us eating the celebratory walnut cake--she'd made it herself, as she does most things, and it was DELICIOUS--love that about her.)

A couple miles in, Di stopped suddenly and said, "I think my pack is leaking." She turned around and her backside was completely soaked--a Diet Coke had burst on the trail--and in perfect Di-style she just pulled out the offending can, picked through the rest of the stuff (see her pack in the picture), and just kept going in spite of the fact that the Coke just kept seeping through her pants for the rest of the hike.

It didn't matter, really, because it started to rain. It rained and rained and we just got gloriously soaked. Our boots sloshed on the trail as we hoofed it back to the car, delighted with one another's company and the thrill of pushing ourselves to do something a little challenging with another person who was enjoying it just as much.

More posts will come as we continue to train--Di's done the research and the hike is scheduled for the first weekend of October. Happy birthday, Di, and thank you for sharing yourself with so many people...and that HIKE with me!

Moments in Time

For a while now I've been trying to capture Amelia singing this little song she learned from a tape we listen to in the car. She sings it incessantly, but every time I try to video tape it, she stops. (That technique worked like a charm in my noisy classroom. If I wanted them to be quiet, I just pulled out the microphone and said, "It's karaoke time and everyone has to sing a solo.")

Well, I managed to get it in segments, after a goofy rendition of "Twinkle Twinkle" inspired by off-camera Evelyn. After that, Amelia launches into the song. It is about Jesus calming the storm, and the lyrics go, "Winds blew high, waves rolled by, thunder rocked the heavens, Jesus spoke the words and then the storm passed by." I tell you this because it is pretty much unintelligible. My favorite part is the word "blew," because it perfectly illustrates how she has overcompensated for her difficulty with the letter "L." It comes out like a sound from some indigenous tribal language.

(And don't miss Evelyn's ponytail. She just might be able to look back on that some day and claim I caused her some sort of permanent damage. YIKES!)

Rainy Day Fun, Inside and Out

One of the things I've tried to do exactly like my mom is get my kids outside every day. "Go outside," she'd say as she opened that back door. I have great outdoor memories from our row house days: making up plays & building forts in the back yard, playing "kick the can" & "free the pole" with neighborhood kids, riding bikes, climbing trees, walking our dog, playing at the playground, and making up games in the woods that adjoined the school across the street.

So I try to get the kids (and myself!) outside every day, rain or shine. I don't always accomplish it, but when I do, I am SO GLAD. Going outside just makes me happy. It puts me in a good mood. It gets my blood flowing--maybe it takes me back to my own childhood! (Thank you, Mom!)

And speaking of childhood, did everyone who grew up with carpeted stairs slide down them? The girls do it so enthusiastically they've given themselves rug burns (now I know why Jon and I used to do it in our full-body footie pajamas!) They've done it riding pillows and have sent squadrons of stuffed animals down as well.

While I have grand ideas for doing creative, carefully-planned, academic, highly-impacting activities with my kids on a very stimulating, organized schedule, most of the time I just have to settle for the spur-of-the-moment fun we can make with exactly what's at our fingertips--and doorsteps.

Let's just be totally superficial for a minute...

So the first short hair cut of my life was growing out. It HAD been since January, after all. We were heading to Rhode Island for a wedding--a good excuse to get it trimmed up. You know, get one of those sexy, in-between haircuts that movie stars get. (Mistake #1: thinking I am going to look like a movie star after a hair cut.)

Since my last hair cut did not look like the picture (of the movie star) I'd brought to the salon, I went sans photo. I also decided, since the last cut had been in my price range, I might do better to go way above my price range. (Mistake #2: thinking that paying more--while it DOES work out sometimes--means looking like a movie star after a hair cut.) So I went to a great girl in a fru-fru salon who took lots of time with me going through magazines and choosing just the right cut for me. It was awesome. She was super nice, very attentive, and a good conversationalist. And she had GREAT hair (the guy in January had a totally shaved head. True.)

Unfortunately, I just have too much hair for that cute, "stacked" bob that is so in style. I didn't really WANT that cut, but we decided that it was a good bet for me in between lengths, so I went for it. In two words: helmet head. Big, stacked, chin-length helmet head.

So I went back. They had a policy, after all. If you weren't satisfied, you could go back and get it fixed. (Mistake #3: Thinking the person who gave you the cut you DON'T like will, with the second attempt--while trying not to think negatively about you--make you look like that movie star.) To her credit, she was great. She was still very nice, although we did go around a little bit about how much she'd have to cut off for it to look right. I think I talked a lot about having so much hair--so the razor did most of the cutting.

Well, you be the judge. NOW I've gotten the shortest hair cut of my life. There are times when I like it. Whenever I'm tempted to regret it, I just think, "Inner beauty, inner beauty, inner beauty..."

"Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as braided hair and the wearing of gold jewelry and fine clothes. Instead, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God's sight." (I Peter 3:3-4)

(In case anyone noticed, I changed the picture on this post. Thank you, Cari, for telling me that my facial expression in the other picture did nothing for the appearance of the haircut. I am SO glad I have friends like you.)