I have five weeks until my due date and something crazy happened in my head once this countdown began on Monday. Five weeks feels like it might go very quickly. Five weeks makes me feel like we should have a crib set up. Five weeks makes me feel like we should have the nursery windows replaced and the room painted. It feels like if this baby were to arrive sooner than five weeks, this prepared, organized mama would not be ready.
It is amazing how this sort of panic shows itself in a pregnant woman. Every bit of this anxiety seems to come out directly at my husband. And he may or may not find these worries and demands to be naggy, a bit irrational and lacking in patience. But he is kind and loving and, thankfully, has a pretty good sense of humor about my crazy ways.
For example, on Monday, Rory found me in a heap on the couch crying about how I wish I could just do these projects for the nursery on my own. I have a good track record for getting things done: I painted the entire basement by myself. I painted the porch by myself too. But being pregnant, I am just too tired, get overwhelmed so easily and probably shouldn't breathe the paint anyway. But I'm left feeling so unable and I hate that feeling. It makes me grumpy.
When Rory found me on the couch, he laughed and said, "You were so quiet up here, I knew you were either sound asleep or crying sadly to yourself." Which made me cry some more. Sadly. To myself.
But while I was crying, he got up and proceeded to empty the room that is to be the nursery, wipe down the walls, fill the nail holes, tape the windows and then loaded me into the car with him to run to Home Depot to buy the primer and paint. And yesterday his brother Troy came over and they painted the nursery!
Now I don't believe it was my tantrum that got it done. Rory had this one on the calendar, and he knew he would pull it off. I just needed something to worry about, is all. You have no idea how exhausting it is to be this emotional all the time. Because now that it is done, I walk into that room every 20 minutes, tearing up for totally different reasons, dreaming of all the memories that are soon to fill that special space. Rory has taken note of this very manic mood change and I do believe he is just bracing himself for whatever extreme emotion comes next.
We were going for a very, very light, white grey paint color. And the sample really looked like it would be that color. But it is definitely a powder blue in direct sunlight, and a more true baby blue with lamp light on it at night time. But it works. And every time Rory walks into the room he says, "yeah, it's definitely pastel blue. But it's perfect for a baby."
All this to say: 1) the nursery is painted! 2) I'm a crazy lady 3) pray for Rory. He's married to an unpredictable train wreck at the moment. But I'm pretty sure that his pleasant wife is still around here somewhere...she's bound to come back at some point.
I've got another niece!
My sweet-as-pie baby niece, Svea Rebecca Liv has arrived! She is so precious and I feel very, very far away. (Her name is pronounced like Say ah but with a v in there...Svay ah.) I love her name.
Annika and Jedd brought this bundle into the world one week ago today but I held onto the news, wanting to be sure they got to get the word out to everyone first before I blabbed the news on my blog here. But let it be known, Svea is here!
Based on stories from Annika I have been telling people, "it sounds like Mara (age 5) is genuinely helpful and Sonna (age 3) genuinely thinks that she is helpful." I told this to Annika today and she added that Mara is helpful when she's in the mood. :) This is a whole lot of adjustment for those big sisters.
When Sonna was born, I basically moved out to Montana for portions of the summer because I couldn't stand being so far away. But now I cannot travel being so pregnant and I feel so stuck! Sisters of the world, here me now: plan your pregnancies accordingly! I'd give anything to hold sweet Svea. Thanksgiving cannot come soon enough!
Annika and Jedd brought this bundle into the world one week ago today but I held onto the news, wanting to be sure they got to get the word out to everyone first before I blabbed the news on my blog here. But let it be known, Svea is here!
Based on stories from Annika I have been telling people, "it sounds like Mara (age 5) is genuinely helpful and Sonna (age 3) genuinely thinks that she is helpful." I told this to Annika today and she added that Mara is helpful when she's in the mood. :) This is a whole lot of adjustment for those big sisters.
When Sonna was born, I basically moved out to Montana for portions of the summer because I couldn't stand being so far away. But now I cannot travel being so pregnant and I feel so stuck! Sisters of the world, here me now: plan your pregnancies accordingly! I'd give anything to hold sweet Svea. Thanksgiving cannot come soon enough!
postcard pictures
We returned yesterday after four days on the North Shore. We stayed at Cove Point Lodge, celebrating our 5 year anniversary and taking advantage of one last getaway before the baby comes and quiet dinners and not so quiet any more.
The first two days were rainy and windy, which is awesome and cozy on the North Shore. We felt no obligation to ever leave our blazing fireplace or the hottub that overlooked the lake. The waves were huge and we both had good books with an incredible view of waves crashing on the rocks just outside our window. Plus, we stocked up on the best snacks ever: peanut m&m's, white cheddar popcorn, hot apple cider, plums, easy cheese and crackers, cherry-chocolate icecream and honeycrisp (I know!) apples. We didn't ever want to leave our fire those first two days, and so we didn't.
The last two days were spectacular, providing all sorts of pretty pictures with fall colors and a bright blue lake. If you aren't able to make it up to Lake Superior this fall, count this slideshow as one giant postcard from me to you!
(If you scroll over the pictures, an arrow will show up so you can speed through the 50 pics I posted...otherwise the timing is annoyingly slow...)
The first two days were rainy and windy, which is awesome and cozy on the North Shore. We felt no obligation to ever leave our blazing fireplace or the hottub that overlooked the lake. The waves were huge and we both had good books with an incredible view of waves crashing on the rocks just outside our window. Plus, we stocked up on the best snacks ever: peanut m&m's, white cheddar popcorn, hot apple cider, plums, easy cheese and crackers, cherry-chocolate icecream and honeycrisp (I know!) apples. We didn't ever want to leave our fire those first two days, and so we didn't.
The last two days were spectacular, providing all sorts of pretty pictures with fall colors and a bright blue lake. If you aren't able to make it up to Lake Superior this fall, count this slideshow as one giant postcard from me to you!
(If you scroll over the pictures, an arrow will show up so you can speed through the 50 pics I posted...otherwise the timing is annoyingly slow...)
the promise we made
I think it’s important to know all that I wrote about in Our Love Story in order to get the full feel for my wedding day. Because the truth is, I walked down the aisle on my wedding day with a shadow of doubt. I felt there must be some in the sanctuary who were holding their breath like I was holding mine. Could this marriage work?
I remember talking to my Grandma Harrington once about her wedding day. She said to me, “That day when your grandpa and I knelt on the alter, we made vows to each other. But more importantly we made them to God. Your grandpa and I have lived through good times and bad, and right now we’re experiencing the hardship of sickness even though we have been largely blessed by health. There have been lots of days when I am reminded that I made those vows to God just as much as I promised them to John. And that is what really holds us together.”
My grandma’s words rang in my head during the entirety of our wedding preparations. I sort of fell into a deep trust that our marriage would work because God really was at the center of Rory and my friendship and I trusted Him to hold us together. I thought of Grandma’s words nonstop, feeling comforted that God was a part of this union too, promising His love to wash over a multitude of things.
The wedding day was bliss. Being surrounded by that many friends and family was perhaps one of the greatest joys in my life. It reminded me of what heaven will be like, being surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, people who love us, people who are cheering us on. There may have been some hesitancy, but the day was joyful and fun.
Yet the day was not the happiest day of my life. The happiest day of my life came two days later.
Rory and I were on the north shore of Lake Superior, I had lost my voice entirely and was communicating with strained whisper squeaks. We were walking quietly on a beach, and I felt the weight of the world lift off of my shoulders as I realized that the thing I had just signed up for was simply to spend the rest of my life with this man: the man I loved more than anything in the world, who made life more fun, who always provided thoughtful conversation and whose company I wanted to be in all of the time. All I had done was promise to spend the rest of my life with my very best friend.
I remember talking to my Grandma Harrington once about her wedding day. She said to me, “That day when your grandpa and I knelt on the alter, we made vows to each other. But more importantly we made them to God. Your grandpa and I have lived through good times and bad, and right now we’re experiencing the hardship of sickness even though we have been largely blessed by health. There have been lots of days when I am reminded that I made those vows to God just as much as I promised them to John. And that is what really holds us together.”
My grandma’s words rang in my head during the entirety of our wedding preparations. I sort of fell into a deep trust that our marriage would work because God really was at the center of Rory and my friendship and I trusted Him to hold us together. I thought of Grandma’s words nonstop, feeling comforted that God was a part of this union too, promising His love to wash over a multitude of things.
The wedding day was bliss. Being surrounded by that many friends and family was perhaps one of the greatest joys in my life. It reminded me of what heaven will be like, being surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, people who love us, people who are cheering us on. There may have been some hesitancy, but the day was joyful and fun.
Yet the day was not the happiest day of my life. The happiest day of my life came two days later.
Rory and I were on the north shore of Lake Superior, I had lost my voice entirely and was communicating with strained whisper squeaks. We were walking quietly on a beach, and I felt the weight of the world lift off of my shoulders as I realized that the thing I had just signed up for was simply to spend the rest of my life with this man: the man I loved more than anything in the world, who made life more fun, who always provided thoughtful conversation and whose company I wanted to be in all of the time. All I had done was promise to spend the rest of my life with my very best friend.
our love story
I never, ever would have thought I would marry a guy like Rory. I was looking for an extroverted, liberal Lutheran camp counselor-type, and instead I stumbled upon this conservative, more introverted, republican, pentecostal. I had heard that opposites attract, even sang the song when I was younger. But on a very logical level, my falling for Rory seemed almost impossible.
On another level though, I knew I had found my perfect companion. We weren’t actually opposites. Even though the labels and categories we fit in would make it seem that way, I had never found a guy who matched me in my excitement for life. Our church upbringings were different, but I had found my equal in someone who was striving to live out his life in accordance to his faith. Our political worldviews were hugely different, and yet, Rory was so well thought-out. He had reasons for how he saw the country best run and the conversations we shared were constructive and helpful. He was much more the public introvert in our duo, but this seemed to work out fine because I have enough extrovert for the both of us. Plus, he was funny, which always (even to this day) caught me off guard.
I fell hard for this boy. It was easy to do. He had ambition, morals, a faith that shaped his life, a deep love for his family, and let’s be honest..he was hot. Oh, and he fell hard for me too, which always feels good.
Still, I had voices that made me second guess everything. Voices that I don’t actually think were attached to any human mouths. But loud voices just the same that were saying things like, “Really? A conservative republican? Don’t you know those people are heartless, uncompassionate and selfish?” and “Assemblies of God? The word Wacky comes to mind.” These voices were LOUD and I was confused. Because Rory was painting a different picture that wasn’t heartless or wacky. He was broadening the way I saw people...most especially, him.
I was waiting for the entire world to rally behind Rory and to chant in one accord, “Marry Him! We approve! Marry Him!” But it didn’t really happen that way. Instead, one day my Aunt Jan said that she really appreciated Rory and for some reason, hearing my liberal and Lutheran Aunt Jan approve made me feel like I wasn’t just crazy and blind in love. And then my Aunt Judy told me shortly after, “You'd be a fool to let this one get away”
Very soon after I told Rory that I was ready to get married if he ever wanted to ask. Which is funny, because he had been asking if he could ask for about a half a year before I gave him the green light, signaling that now I was ready to commit my life to him.
On another level though, I knew I had found my perfect companion. We weren’t actually opposites. Even though the labels and categories we fit in would make it seem that way, I had never found a guy who matched me in my excitement for life. Our church upbringings were different, but I had found my equal in someone who was striving to live out his life in accordance to his faith. Our political worldviews were hugely different, and yet, Rory was so well thought-out. He had reasons for how he saw the country best run and the conversations we shared were constructive and helpful. He was much more the public introvert in our duo, but this seemed to work out fine because I have enough extrovert for the both of us. Plus, he was funny, which always (even to this day) caught me off guard.
I fell hard for this boy. It was easy to do. He had ambition, morals, a faith that shaped his life, a deep love for his family, and let’s be honest..he was hot. Oh, and he fell hard for me too, which always feels good.
Still, I had voices that made me second guess everything. Voices that I don’t actually think were attached to any human mouths. But loud voices just the same that were saying things like, “Really? A conservative republican? Don’t you know those people are heartless, uncompassionate and selfish?” and “Assemblies of God? The word Wacky comes to mind.” These voices were LOUD and I was confused. Because Rory was painting a different picture that wasn’t heartless or wacky. He was broadening the way I saw people...most especially, him.
I was waiting for the entire world to rally behind Rory and to chant in one accord, “Marry Him! We approve! Marry Him!” But it didn’t really happen that way. Instead, one day my Aunt Jan said that she really appreciated Rory and for some reason, hearing my liberal and Lutheran Aunt Jan approve made me feel like I wasn’t just crazy and blind in love. And then my Aunt Judy told me shortly after, “You'd be a fool to let this one get away”
Very soon after I told Rory that I was ready to get married if he ever wanted to ask. Which is funny, because he had been asking if he could ask for about a half a year before I gave him the green light, signaling that now I was ready to commit my life to him.
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