Coming Along...

I'm trying to be a little more regular with blogging in 2014. The major obstacles for me reaching this goal are not setting time aside for it, and thinking I have to write something perfect before it can be posted.

So... let's keep it simple. Here's a few things we're up to at the start of 2014:

• Jesse is literally days away from finishing seminary
• Raya is transitioning from her crib to a "big bed" with varying levels of success
• I'm sick of winter
• Oh, and we have another baby on the way. Due to arrive sometime around the first of June. We got to see the little one on Monday. And no, we did not find out if it's a boy or a girl. Hooray for new babies! :)

VBS

I am totally amazed by the 2 year old. Her energy. Her love of learning. The way she tries to imitate everything we say. Just last week she picked up the phrase "Oh, crap" from her dad and then said it over and over the rest of the afternoon. Woops. She is just a sponge these days.

A while back, an older lady was telling me about her granddaughter who has a young child as well. She said something to the affect of "My granddaughter is always telling me about how funny and smart her son is. I just don't have the heart to tell her that all kids do those things."And I suppose she is right. I suppose she could have been hinting that she'd heard enough about how amazing my own kid is. And she is right that most kids on planet earth go through roughly the same developmental phases as any other.

But really, my girl is pretty great. I have been to the community Vacation Bible School in Grundy Center with Raya each night this week. She talks about "B-B-Ess" (VBS) throughout the day and spontaneously breaks into dancing whenever the topic comes up.  It is the place to be in town this week. Fun music, great volunteers, tons of energy and excitement. And Raya is eating it up. The girl absolutely loves to dance. I guess my point is that I don't really care that all kids do this stuff. I'm pretty sure my kid is the cutest one. Here is some footage to prove it!

Family Vacation?

Jesse and I have always loved vacation. We have a saying that we use while on our various adventures whenever we're staying up too late or eating way too much ice cream or spending a little more than we should on something... "we can do this. we're on vacation."

And so we approached this year's vacation with the excitement and sense of adventure that we have in the past. Except for one thing. We had a 2-year-old with us. Our itinerary was intense. We planned to try camping for the first time ever, go to the most remote, least visited national park in the country, visit friends, attend a dedication of my baby nephew, and stay in a hotel with an indoor water park.

Did I mention we had a 2-year-old with us. And not just any 2-year-old. This girl is finicky about her routines, does not sleep well away from home and can scream so loud in the car that your ears ring for days afterward.

But we tried it. And we (mostly) succeeded. We camped in the back of the van instead of trying to sleep in the tent, and we came home early, trading a hotel stay for 2 nights in our own beds so we could all get some sleep before we had to go back to work.

A friend of mine warned me about this a while ago. She said - we don't call them "vacations" when the kids are with us. We call them "trips." Yes. I think that pretty much sums it up. This was a trip. Not the relaxing, adventurous vacations Jesse and I have had in the past. We don't regret our aggressive travel schedule, but we were definitely ready to be home when we returned!

A stop in Duluth on our way up the North Shore

The boat ride to Isle Royale National Park. The girl was a trooper!

We passed a group of men hiking at the park who looked at Raya and said "Good for you for bringing her here!" I guess they must not see many toddlers on the island...

Raya getting a biology lesson from the Park Ranger

Time with the Schmidt family in Hovland, MN

Raya and Sparrow. Amy and I are hoping they become best friends just like their mamas!

Family pic at the beach.

Taking it all in...

I often fear that if I don't take a picture of something, I will not remember it. I was never like this until I had a child. During Raya's first year of life, I tried to take at least one picture of her every day. When she was a week old, we drove to Jesse's parent's house for the day and accidentally I left our camera there. I think I cried most of the way home after I realized I had left it, but we were too far away to turn back. I couldn't believe I had already screwed up the picture-a-day thing after only one week. I snapped poor-quality pictures on my cell phone, terrified that I would lose a memory forever before the camera arrived in the mail. Amazingly, I think I only missed two days in her entire first year. Three if you count the picture of her bedroom door. I took it as she was screaming her way through a cry-it-out session in her crib one night. I am still plagued by this fear that I will not be able to remember all of the momentous occasions and everyday events in our family's story.

Lately, Raya has been very interested in watching videos of "Baby Yaya" on the computer. It wasn't very long ago, so I know I was a tired Mama in those pictures and videos. I know I lost my patience and felt irritated and wished Raya would just sleep through the night or learn how to walk or be able to make it from our house into town without a constant, ear-piercing scream. But that's not the stuff I remember when I look back at videos from last year - or even last month. Instead I realize that she does sleep through the night these days. She can walk and run and jump. She doesn't do the screaming thing much anymore. So I guess I'll keep snapping those pictures and look forward to the story they will tell when we look back at them later on.

Luckily, we had a camera on hand this Sunday - a day when the weather and the company were just about perfect and I wanted to make sure it got filed away in our family memory bank. My parents came for church and lunch. It wasn't all that extraordinary, but it was a blessing to just be with family and enjoy one another. Here are some pics...

Daddy & Raya on Father's Day

Grandpa & Raya on Father's Day

Henkle family - all looking at the camera and smiling! Whew!

Garden Impostor

We planted a garden this year and today I pulled out the first crop. I should be excited about this, but I found out I have a lot to learn about gardening.

In deciding what to plant, we tried to choose vegetables that we enjoy eating. Heavy on the tomatoes and peppers, green beans because I know my mom likes them, a few cucumber and squash plants... I say a few because the last time we planted a garden we ended up with 50 butternut squash that vined all the way across the garden and over the fence on three sides.

I had a very detailed plan in hand when I went to the local nursery. The seeds were in various containers and boxes with labels taped to the sides that gave the growing details. I chose Sugar Star peas, Contender bush beans, Bloomsdale spinach, carefully reading about each variety and trying to decide what would be best for our garden plot. There were assorted measuring cups and spoons strewn around the counter and blank envelopes to label the type and amount of seed inside. I remember thinking how quaint and old-fashioned it felt to measure out a teaspoon of seeds from an old peanut butter jar. Much better than choosing from colorfully labeled, pre-packaged seeds from a rotating display at Walmart. This was the place for real gardeners.

Tonight we were pulling some weeds that popped up after last night's rain when I noticed something strange in our row of Bloomsdale spinach. There were large red roots showing below the leafy green stems.  I just googled Bloomsdale spinach and found a gardening blog that called it a sexy leafy green. Sounds exciting, but the red things I pulled out of the ground did not look sexy to me. After some more internet searching, my suspicions were confirmed. Radishes. I hate radishes. I even took a little taste just to be sure and I had to spit it out. Apparently the longer you leave those little suckers in the ground, the hotter they become. Since I don't know what variety I accidentally planted, I have no idea when they were supposed to be picked.

Here's hoping that the rest of the crops turn out better than this. And if you like radishes, I know where you can get some hot ones...

Thanks, Buzz

Last night, I got a call from an unfamiliar phone number. It was a man's voice on the other end of the line.

"Hello, this is Buzz from Long-Term Care," he said.

"Okay," I answered. His name didn't ring a bell. Immediately I thought that one of our church members had passed away and this was someone on staff at the nursing home calling to inform us.

"I wondered if this would be a good time for me to sing you a song."

"Okay," I answered again, racking my brain for clues about who this man could be.

"Since Easter is coming up, I want to sing 'I Know My Redeemer Lives' for you and your husband."

Then it dawned on me. Jesse and I met him last Sunday while leading a service at an area nursing home. He had asked us to write our names and phone numbers on a scrap of paper and promised to call and sing for us on our birthdays. I thought that sounded sweet, but I didn't think much of it at the time since our birthdays are a few months away.

"You might want to turn on your speakerphone," he suggested. "I'll sing three verses."

Jesse and I stood in the kitchen with the phone resting on the counter listening to Buzz's aged, slightly warbling voice singing,

I know that my Redeemer lives;

What comfort this sweet sentence gives!

He lives, He lives, who once was dead;

He lives, my ever living Head.

After he finished singing, he simply said, "Well, have a good night," and the call was over.

I know next to nothing about this man and he knows very little about us, but a simple phone call and a song made my entire Easter week. I almost forgot that this week is about more than extra worship services and a million additions to my usual to-do list. My Redeemer lives. Thanks for the reminder, Buzz.

A New Henkle

True story - the very same week our daughter Raya finally starts sleeping through the night, we decide to get a puppy. Six months of tending to a crying dependent in the wee hours was not nearly long enough. We thought we would miss out on all that time for pondering and reflecting on life that only comes in the middle of the night, so we traded nighttime feedings for nighttime potty training...

Jesse has been scouring Craigslist and the classified section of the newspaper for months, and after church last Sunday, there it was - an ad for German shepherd pups for sale. We made a phone call and arranged to go see them that same day. It seemed like such an impulse buy, but we have really been talking about getting a dog since we got married 5 1/2 years ago. Well, actually, Jesse has talked about it, and I usually just nod and say we'll get one. When we're ready. I've always been open to the idea of having a pet, but have never actually experienced it first hand. But I knew when Jesse told me that his dog Haylee was literally his best friend growing up that we would get one someday, and that day has arrived.

We named our pup Solomon. The vet asked if we were going to neuter him, and I had to laugh at the thought of him following in the footsteps of his Biblical namesake with 1,000 wives all over Grundy County. That wouldn't earn any points with the neighbors so we'll probably go ahead and have him fixed - or at least fix the holes in the fence in our back yard. I do hope he is wise like King Solomon - or at least smart enough to learn how to pee outside and sit and stay and the other basic things a dog should do. And speaking of peeing outside, I better go let the little guy out before I have to clean up another puddle on the kitchen floor...