What's Cookin' Good Lookin'

I have to confess that I miss blogging. There was a time, not too long ago when it was a daily practice but as of late other things have taken priority and this space is minded less frequently, albeit, no less loved.
There is no lack of beautiful things to share which means that when I actually do post it is a fragmented reflection of my week carelessly strung together.

I won't lie - this week has been tough. My joie de vive took a little hiatus leaving me weary. The uncertainty is certainly wearing on me and it is tough to figure out what each day is about. I know that sounds ridiculous as I am privileged to have this year to just be a mom but sometimes even moms get tired. Ben had his written exam today which meant that for the last little while study has taken the front burner. And while the sun has been warm I have had trouble seeing the beauty in each day, knowing that soon it will all come to an end...and there is nothing to follow. It's all nonsense really. Many of you are probably vehemently question my attitude but it is just that: an attitude that I need to conquer.

Food helps.

With the heat, Jakob's eczema flared up to the point where I picked him up from school and he looked awful. Red peely eyes, blotchy red patches on his pale soft skin and the back of his knees completely raw from the itching. In the past, we found taking gluten and dairy out of his diet cleared it up quite nicely and quickly noting that it is probably caused by a sensitivity one of these things. We also recognized however, that the pain of a few small dry patches were less painful than being refused an ice cream cone when everyone else had one, so while we limit these things we don't eliminate them on a regular basis. Instead we keep it like a card in our back pocket for times such as these. All this to say, this week, we have been gluten and dairy free and I thought I would share some of our favourite recipes with you.

Spaghetti: a twist on the old staple

I use this dish to clear out my veg drawer. Whatever I have goes in and the kids have no idea and eat it up enthusiastically. This week, I grilled up some ground beef then added half a red onion, a few cloves of garlic, one grated zucchini, half a red pepper and some cherry tomatoes. Once the veggies are tender I infuse it with a small jar of good tomato basil spaghetti sauces and simmer. It is then served over gluten free noodles and served with salad....oh and maybe a nice glass of red?

Other items that are great in spaghetti: broccoli, cauliflower, mushrooms, I have even put kale.

Confession - I plan meals based on what I have in my fridge so that I don't have to go to the store. As I have mentioned before I get an organic fruit and veg box each week. I don't pick the items, I just get whatever is in season. Also, I am completely lazy and the thought of taking the kids to the grocery store on the way home is exhausting, so I will make whatever I can with whatever I have. Yesterday, it was butternut squash. Jakob knows he does not like squash so dinner started out with a typical fight,

 "I don't like it!" (he hadn't tried it - he just knew it was squash).
"That's fine, then go to bed." (no comment on my parenting skills)
"NOOOOEEEEEWWWWW!"
"Fine, then eat it."
.....
"Oh, I like it."
Sigh.

So here is how it's done.
Toast your cumin seeds in few glugs of veg oil until they are fragrant
Add onion and garlic and sautee until the onion starts to become translucent
Add curry powder and turmeric and let fry a little longer (this takes the bitterness out of the spices)
Add about a cup of canned chopped tomatoes and a small butternut squash cubed without the squishy bits in the middle.
At this point you can add a bit of vegetable broth so that the squash is nicely covered in liquid.
Let simmer until the squash is tender then add coconut milk and cinnamon stick.
Bring to a simmer again and stir constantly for about 5 minutes.

To up the protein in this meal, I served it over quinoa (or as Jakob calls it - little yellow spheres). This dish can be served with yogurt but then it wouldn't be dairy free, now would it. We had it with some  cilantro and lime and that was good too. Most importantly, both the kids loved it.

Tonight we had cornflake crusted chicken breast which was also a nice easy meal that the kids loved.
Simply season your chicken with salt and pepper, coat in a beaten egg and then cover in crushed corn flakes, bake.

I hope you are having a great weekend. This weekend is the Queen's Diamond Jubilee which I am quite looking forward to and then next week Jakob is off for half-term so I am sure I will have lots of stories to tell and photos to share....and hopefully the time to post them now that I have my husband back.

Are you doing anything to commemorate the Queen's 60 year reign?

Life As We Know It

I feel the change coming. The shifting of life stages as I spend less time on the internet and more time in front of books, less time in my house and more time in the park, less time less time building equity and more time contributing to other not-so-tangible investments. In two months today life will enter a new chapter once again and to say I am nervous is an understatement. Nothing is defined. There are no prospects, nothing solid that we can cling to as an indication of what our future might look like, just uncertainty. And yet, I pray for peace, I pray for trust, I pray for provision and I try to enjoy the last couple months we have here in this surreal place.

On tuesday, I had the opportunity to join Jakob's class on a trip to Wimpole Farm. When I stepped off the bus I felt like I had stepped into a Jane Austen novel. The farm became functional in the 1780's and as part of the National trust has kept much of its charm. I didn't get a chance to take a lot of pictures as I always get the curious active little boys to watch but we all still had a lovely time.

Life has been slow other than that. Ben has his written exam next week so is busy studying although, he did have the opportunity on Tuesday to go to High Table at Trinity College. Nothing could be more quintessentially Cambridge and he claimed it was the most surreal experience he has had here.

The weather has turned around, thankfully, so we are back to afternoons on Parker's Piece (a big green space which magically comes alive when the sun come out). And when the kids have finally nodded off for the night I pull out the books as I have officially started my first Grad course. Yup! I am wildly excited and horribly nervous all at the same time. But every time I get anxious about it I simply remind myself that it's no pressure. I am just trying it out, testing the waters, seeing if it is something I can handle and will enjoy. Needless to say, if I seem a little absent it's because I am reading up on 19th Century human rights.

I hope you all have a beautiful weekend!

Mothering A Child With A Disability: Matthew

The other day as I walked into the public library I passed a young man with Down Syndrome standing at the entrance. I didn't give any concern as to why he might be there waiting and remembered to smile on my way by.
Once the kids were settled in the children's corner, I began chatting with a friend when suddenly an announcement came over the loud speaker. I was alarmed at first as I had never heard the intercom come on in the the library before. There was a chime and then a woman's voice, "Would Matthew please come to the first floor information desk to meet your mother."
I found this message somewhat strange and wondered just how old this Matthew was given the announcement was very proper (could just be the British), requesting his presence, to me, implying that he was not a child. But in that case why would a parent be looking for him. Then again, if he was a child, isn't it usually someone who finds the child, takes them to information and the parents paged over the intercom to come and claim their child?
That was about as far as my thoughts wondered before I was drawn back into conversation.
It wasn't long however, until again, the chime rang and a woman's voice came on, a little more insistent but still proper requesting that Matthew come to information desk as his mother was waiting for him.
Again, I didn't think much of it until a little while later I saw the young man with Down Syndrome following after a woman, who I could only assume to be his mother. Could it have been Matthew that they were calling over the loudspeaker?
I entertained this idea as I considered what the mother must have being thinking as she looked for her son with no success in the rather small library. Did her heart race as mine would if I lost Jakob in a mall or did she simply employ the help of the library staff because she was in a hurry and couldn't be bothered to continue searching?
Earlier that day when we had been at the library the first time (we frequent there a lot), I had thought that perhaps Ella could work at a library when she was older. (As a mother of a child with special needs you are always subconsciously speculating on potential. Not necessarily good or bad, but just something that is not as constantly present in your thoughts about your child without special needs).  I watched as she meticulously sorted her books, stacked them neatly on the table and selected one to read. That would be a very credible job, I thought (yes, I still think these things...let's not get into it right now).
But if Matthew couldn't even find his mom or manage to meet at an agreed place and time, how could I expect Ella to understand the Dewy-decimal system?
I find it so hard to believe that I won't be able to trust Ella to get from A to B or hold a job when she is older. At almost three she is so quick. Just today, as I took Jakob into school, she led the way, took off her coat to hang on his hook and made herself at home in his classroom - she is SO ready for preschool. Perhaps she isn't potty trained completely yet and has trouble saying words but she knows. She knows so much.
Time will tell, and perhaps she'll slow down but I can't help wonder if it's as much nurture as it is nature. She is constantly saying "I do, I do, I do" (okay not quite clear but you know that is what she is saying) when it comes to putting her clothes on, doing up buttons, playing a DVD or cutting her food. She wants to do it, so for the most part I let her and I just pray she will be self-sufficient one day. Not because I don't want the hassle but because she has the potential.

Ella insisted on taking Baby to the park the other day. She walked her all the way there and all the way home and even remembered to take her purse.

End post.

I'm giving something a try....

Today I posed the question on Facebook:

Where is the best forum to ask questions about deeper issues: philosophical, theological, intellectual? I need some banter.


The first response pointed me to my friends...which is good advice, but like most momma's I am somewhat restricted to my social calendar and it is a good thing that not all of my friends like a good debate like myself, so I try not to impose it on them.

And the second and last of the comments whole heartedly agreed that banter is a needed thing.

2 comments....clearly Facebook is not the place.

So at risk of being shot down or creating another cyberwasteland I am going to give this a try.

It's About Ella and I'm sorry I forgot that.

It's called Ella's story and yet I realized today that all I have done is talk about me. And I am ashamed….

He managed to turn the baby and with a push and a pull, we finally met our sweet squishy Ella Freda on June 8th at 11:29pm. I didn't hear crying right away but it came soon enough and they passed me my precious baby girl. Words cannot explain the emotions I felt in that moment- the complete elation that we had a baby girl and the complete horror, alarm, consternation, distress, surpass, fear, panic that I felt as I gazed into her eyes, saw her flattened bridge, her tiny folded ears and funnel chest.

It's true I saw Down Syndrome before anyone else, but not before I saw my daughter. Her face was puffy, a little mis-shapened and blotchy from getting stuck but she managed to open her eyes and gaze up at me, her momma and there was no crying, no hurt or tears, no fear or hesitation. She was mine, the one I carried as God formed her little body and I was hers. Her little cone head was covered in fine brown hair and she had the most kissably little lips. As I studied all 7 pounds of her, I thought, if she doesn't have Down Syndrome, then I really did get my asian baby after all. Because here is the thing - I thought she looked just like me. Sure, she has an extra fold of skin on her slightly slanted almond eyes, but so do I - one eye more than the other…just like Ella. I have an asian button nose just like Ella and I also have a bridged Palmer Crease, meaning if I bend my fingers forward slightly, it looks just like a single palmer crease which Ella also has but only on one hand, her right hand…just. like. me. 

The halls were quiet as we were taken down to the Palliative care room. There was a another baby born in the small rural hospital that night and the room normally given to new parents was taken. This was quite nice for us, as the Palliative care room was well equipped with a coffee maker, my own bathroom with a shower a murphy bed, and a serene view of the prairie's vastness. 

Like most mother's who have just met the little one they carried with anticipation for 9 months, I slept very little that night, if at all. The awe doesn't wear off the second time round and I was enamoured with this tiny body that grew inside me for all that time, intimately sharing everything with me from my waking to my sleeping, what I ate, the baths I took, the laughter of her older brother and the everydayness of  this One Beautiful Life. 

She was so content all night. Every three hours I would lift her out of the plastic bed and unwrap her fragile body and try to stir her from her sleep. She was difficult to wake and when I could finally get her to be interested in eating she would often latch for not even a moment before she would begin to suck vigorously on her lower lip, something she does to this day when she sleeps. I credit only the grace of God that I didn't get frustrated. It took Ella three full days to learn how to nurse, but once she did, she was a pro and it became something which I savoured. Jakob, while he latched quickly, he ate even quicker causing much discomfort for both him and I. He would cry and then I would cry and nursing was something I dreaded. Not with Ella. She was calm and relaxed. She enjoyed it and because of this so did I. 

We remained in hospital for her jaundice for the week that followed. And while I was eager to have my family complete in the comfort of our own home, it was nice to have the one-on-one time with with the newest member of our family.Time lay skin on skin, without nagging dishes or a competing two year old, time to nurse without the telephone ringing and time to know perfectly, my little girl from the brushfield spots in her eyes to her tiny little toes. Her skin tone evened and her little cone head became perfectly round. She was perfect and there were many times I thought about how much she looked like Jakob when he was first born. It was at these times I doubted my diagnosis.

...I want to go on and on,  but this is getting long already so I will continue another day. All I know is that I don't want to forget. I don't want to get so consumed with how I dealt with "it " that I forget how beautiful and perfect she was. Because to be honest she was the calm that got me through the storm. I became a person I never thought I could be not only because of her. 

When We're Feeling Inadequate: Reflections on being a mother

Do you ever feel like you are not being the mother you should be? That your creativity is lacking, not to mention your patience or grace. That the Christ-centred nurturing that is supposed to come standard issue at time of delivery has malfunctioned, or worse yet, never kicked in in the first place? Do you fear that your children will remember your "mommy time-outs" more than they remember the encouraging words, prayers before bed, lullabies or the smell of fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies.

Tonight was classic. I took the time to sit with my kids, I made them popcorn, did Jakob's reading for school and then it was time for bed. We brushed teeth, we had a story and then as I tucked them into bed, we began to pray.. I said the Lord's prayer and explained to Jakob (and Ella) that this is how Jesus taught us to pray and that he needed to learn it. (Note: I was feeling quite good about all of this, especially because Ben was off conducting at Churchill College so, like most Sunday nights, I was flying solo)

"Repeat after me, 'Our Father who art in Heaven'"

silence. Jakob is pretending to sleep with a little grin on his face.


"Come on. Our Father...."

silence. grin persist. eyes flutter


"Jakob! Come on, I know you aren't asleep...repeat after me. I want you to learn this!"

silence. Patience has come to an end, a battle of the wills has begun.


"Jakob! Repeat after me or you can go to sleep right now!" Like come on?! What kind of a threat is that?!


FAIL


Moments like these are all too familiar lately. After two months of comings and goings, company, trips and the first and most important of Ben's Cambridge exams, I have found myself, in the last week, either completely exhausted or aching for time to read, to write and to think. I have been absent, perhaps not in body, but in mind and spirit, leaving my children sitting idle in front of The Cat In The Hat and me feeling completely inadequate. But who of us mothers, or fathers for that matter, haven't felt that way at one time or another? Even as I reflect on my own mother: the one who is always at the other end of the line when I am up in the middle of the night with a migraine, the one who is always slipping money into my palm and the one who is always my biggest cheerleader, no matter what crazy idea I have come up with this week. I am sure there are times....I know there were times when she, as a single mother, felt inadequate - felt that she wasn't doing enough, providing enough or there enough. But here I am...hopefully not too screwed up. Sure, I remember the low moments but I also remember the high moments and I know that when my mother felt inadequate she prayed that God would cover us with grace. Because nobody is perfect. No matter how often we read Proverbs 31, we will never measure up. And even if we come close, ultimately, our children could still be led astray - I seen it many times. "Perfect parents" whose children make wrong choices or have mental disorders which spiral into a sinful and corrupt life and all they can do is helplessly pray.

Look at Eve. The first mother. I am sure that their banishment from the garden was discipline enough to ensure they lead their boys in the ways of the Lord. But instead, we read about the first homicide in history.

Or Rebekah, mother of Jacob and Esau. Her favouritism was no secret as she helped Jacob secure the birthright in exchange for something as petty as a bowl of soup.

And then there is Bathsheba. The temptress who seduced King David, only to birth the wisest King to ever live.

I could go on. Surely Mary, mother of Jesus, felt inadequate at times....or all the time. But this did not deter her. To borrow from Solomon, "A perfect [mother]? Who can find?" No one. After all, we are still being perfected, yes, even us mothers. But God is in the midst of it all - the sleepless nights, the spaghetti stains and the worry. Lot's of worry. Because when you become a mother, no matter what the means, you give your child a part of your heart. You ache when they ache, you cry when they cry and you rejoice when they rejoice and this is what makes it all worthwhile.

To all the mothers out there, and especially my own: Happy Mother's Day.

A mother's love's a blessing, no matter where you roam

Keep her while she's living, you'll miss her when she's goneLove her as in childhood, though feeble, old and greyFor you'll never miss a mother's love, till she's buried beneath the clay.Thomas P. Keenan

Brighton

Rain. Let's talk about it.
Hawii came up in a conversation with Ben the other day. He said, "You've been there, haven't you."
To which I replied, "Yes. It rained."
And it is because of that trip that I do no go anywhere that is supposed to be "hot". I have no desire to go back to Hawii or Mexico and would much rather spend a rainy week in Tofino, BC because Tofino is supposed to be rainy, it is beautiful in the rain, and if the sun pokes through even for an afternoon it is a huge treat.
The other reason I like rainy places is that they are less busy. I don't like crowds or bells or whistles - give me a beach (in any weather) and I am happy. Which is why yesterday was the perfect day to go to Brighton, on the south coast of England and one Britain's biggest summer playgrounds.
The original purpose of the trip was for Ben to visit Glyneborne. For his thesis he is comparing three staged performances of Bach's St. Matthew's Passion, one of which was performed at Glyneborne. They were unable, however, to send him the recording so if he wanted to see it, he had to go and watch it in their music library. And since I was feeling like a nice little road trip and Brighton is just 20 minutes away, the kids and I decided to go along.
It was a cold windy day, misty at times and rainy at others. I was completely nervous about the prospect of entertaining the kids for four hours in an unknown city with no house or car to cozy up in if we got to wet, but like most challenges in my life, I just did it (partly to know that I could and partly because I am a stubborn like that). I packed an extra change of clothes for all three of us along with a bucket and a shovel and off we went.

As a side note this is a SOOC (straight out of the camera) shot. Isn't it amazing?! Beautiful day. 

Jakob could have been perfectly content to throw rocks in the water all day so when it started to rain, and I suggested we check out the pier he wasn't interested...until I mentioned that there might be candy and games....which there was. And lots of them.
With fear of some serious backlash, I going to go ahead and throw censors to the wind and say that Brighton, while beautiful, may possibly be England's capital for indulgence - slot machines, a tonne of candy stores, arcade games, rides, you name it. And while in the summer I am sure I would have suffered major sensory overload, I have to admit it was quite enjoyable having the place to ourselves. I let the kids play a little skeeball and with the tickets they won, buy a glider plane and some stickers.

We had the "happy-go-round" (this is what Jakob calls it) to ourselves and we even bought a lollipop and some sugar donuts. How can you tell I was on my own and taking the path of least resistance?
When we had had our fill we headed up to the Lanes, which is Brighton's shopping district. It's a cute little area and we settled quickly into a Starbucks to warm up. It was there, that Ben met us and we finished off the day with one more trip down to the seaside.

And while Brighton may not be for everyone, the drive down there is worth a trip in and of itself with Sussex's rolling hills, vast farmland and quaint villages which we saw a lot of...because we got lost....more than once. Completely completely worth it!

A Family in Need.

Dear friends,

Sometimes in life we find ourselves longing to make a difference but feel like the little we can do won't make a difference- that the drop of water we can offer is not worth giving or if we can't save them all then why try to save any. I am here to tell you that these are lies. A little bit goes a long way and I have seen it over and over. As Kelle Hampton said of the $600k she raised for the National Down Syndrome Society, most of it came from people who gave what they could. $5 here, or $5 there.

But to be honest I always comes back to this thought: if it was me, if I was stepping into the darkness in obedience, trusting God to provide, would I ask? Would you give?

This past Christmas I raised money for a little boy named Jakob. I found out, not long after that a family had committed to adopt him and I was over-joyed because, that my friends is what it is all about. Into the New Year however, Jakob's biological family came and took him back, which is also what it is all about and while the Pardue family was sad, they knew that God would not have it any other way. He soon laid another boy on their hearts, Alexander.

Ron and Shana have been faithful and walked on despite detours and unexpected delays. They acknowledge that this whole process has cost far more than they had planned for and while they would never, in all the world, go back and change their decision they do need our help. They are just 25 days away from making their 1st of 2 trips to see their newest little boy and are in need. Shana tells me that they are $7500 short. Now that is far more than I have ever been able to raise for an orphan but I too must be obedient and share Alexander's story.

Alexander lives in Eastern Europe and he has Down Syndrome. Many parents in this area of the world are simply unable to care for children with special needs because of the sheer cost and unavailable resources and so, they put them in orphanages. Unfortunately, the orphanages are also ill-equipped to care effectively for these children and are simply loving them until they get transferred to mental institutions where they are malnourish and stunted for the rest of their lives or someone comes and rescues these forgotten children. Now a family has found Alexander. The family that God had planned for him from the beginning. The only thing standing in their way is money. We all have it and spend it on coffee, handbags, discount pastries and many many other things. What I am asking is that you give up one thing on just one day and give the money you would have spent on your little indulgence to help this family re-unite.

All donations are tax-deductible through Reece's rainbow.
To find out more about the Pardue family or to donate click here.

And by the way,
Thank you.

Friends...

If you have ever taken some time to look at my sidebar you may have noticed a section called "Friends".

I thought I would take some time today to introduce some of them to you because they truly are wonderful women, bloggers and friends, who I feel all contribute something to my life. These blogs have not paid for space, I just think they are that awesome! So without further adieu...

Meet Arlee. To be honest, I have a little crush on her. She comes up with all of the ideas that I wish I had. She runs a small "daycare" (I hope I don't get in trouble for using that term) but seriously, this woman creates some of the most extraordinary adventures, learning opportunities, sensory play

...in other words fun! 

Last week she did a series on Photography for little ones. She got some play cameras and made them all little "Press" passes. It was adorable. And most recently, they welcome 6 new littles ones to the family....but you really should just check her out for yourself.

Red. Otherwise known as my friend Beth. She is intelligent, beautiful and witty. She writes about parenting naturally and raising her family with Christ at the centre. She is not afraid to stand up for truth and write about the dirty stuff of life....like childbirth. She posts spiritual truth, tips for healthy living, motherhood and much more. AND her blog just had a snazzy make-over! 


Ashley Sisk. This would be the woman behind Scavenger Hunt Sunday. She posts on photo editing, gives tutorial but she is also an amazing woman of God and isn't afraid to post on Spiritual stuff too! She recently found out that she was pregnant and being the photographer that she is, I know it will only get better.

Racing Towards Joy is written by Sarah. She is a beautiful woman whose beautiful heart shines through her writing. She writes truth about life and about being a momma and today she just happens to be doing a give away so head on over and check it out.


Sarah and I are long lost sisters. She loves Paris and has three adorable children named Jacob, Ella and Audrey. She recently did a guest post on my blog about her journey of infertility and it is one "my" most popular posts! She is an amazing woman and a huge encouragement and blessing to me.
I really do hope you will check out all of these blogs as they are truly worth the read. Happy Tuesday!

Mothering A Child With A Disability: The Secret Thoughts on Smooth Sailing.

Sometimes, as I lay in bed with my daughter drifting off to sleep beside me I am plagued by an irrational fear that holds me hostage until I too, slip off to sleep. And while I have come to acceptance of this fear often, everytime it rears it's ugly head my breath catches until I can find the voice of reason pleading with me that there is no use being afraid of things that have not yet happened and may in fact, never happen. And then, I feel silly afterward for entertaining such a fear and yet, I can't help but wonder if there are other mothers out there that share my debilitating thoughts that even now, grip me.

Ella is doing well. She is doing really well. She always has done well. And despite any grumbling and complaining you may have heard from me (hopefully not much), I fully acknowledge how truly blessed we are. Ella has no heart problems, no bowel problems, to our knowledge no sleep apnea or circulation problems, no autism or ADD, no hearing problems,  and only slight, albeit very common sight problems - basically has a clean bill of health…..

which is why I fear.

It's too good to be true. I feel like no child with Down Syndrome could be so fortunate and no parent of a child with Down Syndrome could have it so easy. It sounds ridiculous, I know, and yet my mind never stops there but instead there is a constant, flashing neon sign that glows and buzzes with the C-word. 

I fear. I fear almost everyday. I fear as I read on Facebook or a blog of one more child who has to fight a battle they are too young for. I fear when she gets a virus that takes just too long to heal. I fear when I notice little petechiae cluster on her soft clear skin. I fear when everything is just as it should be. Even now, as my baby naps after a very cranky morning, I can't help but wonder if she is simply tired from her 5am start or if there is a deeper issue that she can't tell me about but is causing pain inside her fragile little body.

And it would seem that no matter how many times I read the words over,

Trust in the Lord with all of your heart….

Do not be anxious about anything but in everything by prayer and petition…

For I know the plans I have for you….

fear pushes the word of truth aside and yet, as I was reminded last night, as I sat in Churchill Chapel,

There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear. For fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not been perfected in love.

(1 John 4:18 ESV)

Timely, as I have been formulating this post for a couple of days now and these words are all too familiar because while not going into it too deeply, this verse epitomizes so much of the way that I feel as my soul is polluted with lies and misconceptions, bitterness and sin. I fear punishment, I fear spite and I fear the unknown. If only simply hearing these words or reading them over could make me believe them and understand them fully.

Until then, I keep pushing on, striving and hoping for a better understanding of love until I do not fear any longer. And even when storms come, because I know they will, can say, I have no fear for the Lord my God is with me….

A Glimpse Into My Life As a Musician's Wife: take two

Well, I am sorry to say, my lost post never magically re-appeared, but after much encouragement I found the time and courage to try and re-write it. It's not perfect (at least not what I think to be perfect) but it is a decent reflection of what I wanted to share about my One STRANGE but Beautiful Life. Enjoy!

Can I let you in on a little secret? I love being married to a musician. Ssshhhhh….don't tell his parents I said that and certainly don't tell him that. Recently, I finished reading The Paris Wife and I could relate to Hadley as she followed Hemingway around Europe, putting up with his moody temperament (not that Ben has the Hemingway temper). She never faltered in her support for his work, all the while, never knowing what the next season of their life would look like. I thought about this the other night as we laid in bed and he concentrated on his music.

For the last couple of weeks, my mom and her husband have been staying with us. We gave them our bed while we took up residence in our office. It's not a very big room and when the futon is pulled out there is about a foot between the bed and the keyboard. So the other night as Ben laid beside, me pouring over his Salve Regina he would occasionally reach over to strike a note on the keyboard and then return, unfazed to his position. Life is full of this kind of surreal moments when you are married to a musician. Everyday moments, like pausing to guess the interval a bird chirps or the tone that a bell chimes, at which point, he must pull out his pitch pipe, agonizingly reminding himself that he doesn't have perfect pitch.

At one point I thought about changing the name of my blog to Life as a Musician's Wife because when you are married to an artist life doesn't exactly look like the American Dream. Before Ben, almost 10 years ago, I dated an accountant (I use the term "dated" loosely). From the moment I heard of this scruffy guitar player turned metro accountant I knew wanted woo him and make him fall in love with, because at 20 years old I thought I was ready to settle down and get married. My plan worked perfectly and before long I could see, within my grasp, the life I had always dreamed of as a child. I would go into nursing and he would become a CA for KPMG. We would live in the suburbs with our 2.5 children and drive a sporty SUV. I remember watching my picture perfect life take shape in my mind as I laid on the grass in Stanley Park pretending to read Oprah's latest pick while he played guitar and a cricket match resonated in the background. It was perfect. We were perfect and yet instead of having a feeling of sheer satisfaction it scared the crap out of me. I realized that I didn't want the glowing Thomas Kincaid house I pictured in my mind, no, I realized what I really wanted, was a Picasso. I didn't want to know what my life was going to look like 10 years from now, or 20 or 30. So I told William (formally Bill) that whatever it was that we had, had to end….besides, I wasn't  physically attracted to him anyway…he was a little too short…and a little too metro.

Two months later, I re-met Ben (apparently, I had met him before but, bad me, didn't remember) and ever since I have never known exactly what the next year would bring, where we would live or how we would make it financially. Ten years ago, I could never have fathomed some of the adventures that we have had. No, life certainly doesn't look like I thought it would. We dine at High Table on Friday night (okay, not every friday) and ease into Saturday morning with one of Wagner's boisterous operas. I am never sure what position I will find my husband in, family vacations are determined by where a composer resided or was buried and chances are, Ben will probably never have a 9-5 job, at least I hope he doesn't because it would mean that he sold out and became an office monkey. 

I never dreamt nor planned on being married to a musician, in fact, I always believed I would marry a doctor or a lawyer and Ben is definitely not the perfect man of of my dreams, sort of like Ella is not the daughter I always thought I would have, but clearly God had a point to make in my life: perfection is what HE makes it. It is not what the world tells you is perfect but what He has deemed perfect. I could not ask for a more perfect husband or father for my children, nor could I ask for a more perfect baby girl or big brother for her because I know they are all from Him. And for them, I am thankful.  


Do not be deceived, my beloved brothers. Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change. Of his own will he brought us forth by the word of truth, that we should be a kind of firstfruits of his creatures.

(James 1:16-18 ESV)