I know, I know. I said things like "What would you ask Wednesdays," and here it's Wednesday and I'm contemplating a "What would you ask Thursday." Roll with me, people. I was totally going to answer Joey's question from a few weeks ago, but then I looked at the calendar. I'd been feeling all day like there was something important about September 22 but I couldn't put my finger on it.
Then the internet came to the rescue, per usual. I've been following Molly Piper's blog for a while now and while I don't know her personally, I've been so touched over the years to read her stories. Molly is Abraham Piper's wife, and Abraham is John Piper's son, and I read John Piper's stuff... so yeah, I mean, Molly and I are clearly just two steps away from being BFF's. Clearly.
But September 22 is a big date for her. Her baby girl, Felicity, was stillborn that day three years ago. Molly has written a lovely tribute over on her blog and even though I've never even been pregnant, I've still been so edified by the experiences she shares of grieving and leaning on the Lord and trusting Him even when it's difficult.
And today is the first ("official") day of fall. This means coziness and bonfires and honeycrisp apples and crunch leaves. And no more daily bullying from the sun. I hope. Also, six years ago, Lost premiered, so see, I was right. September 22 is a very important day, indeed!
Here's some trivia that you probably won't care about but that makes me laugh (at myself). When ABC first started promoting Lost, I remember scoffing at the TV and rolling my eyes. I mean, really, how long could they be lost on an island before people got bored of the whole thing? Srsly, it was doomed to fail as far as I was concerned. And now? Now, my friends, I am just one DVD set away from owning the whole series. The only reason I've held out this long is that Christmas is coming up. Wink, wink, nudge, nudge.
Happy September 22, all!
Showing posts with label babies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label babies. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Saturday, February 6, 2010
The one with the baby talk
Random fact of the day: Keeping chicken fried rice in the fridge too long results in the eggs tasting rubbery after a while. Gross.
Hearing aids: I think I talk really loud. But no one ever tells me if I do. I just noticed a few patrons eavesdropping on my conversation at brunch today, so I thought maybe I was accidentally yelling. Oops. I can't tell how loud or quiet I am. I just try to match the noise level that I hear (or think I hear). Kind of like how when I drive, I just go at whatever speed everyone else is. Because the speed limit posting is just a suggestion, really.
In other news: Every now and then I get baby fever. I'm really not one of those girls who won't be happy until she's married with children. I'm savoring every moment of my single life. But my hormones don't care and tend to attack without warning. So once in a while, I wistfully wander through the baby section at department stores and dream about the pitter-patter of little feet. Sometimes I think my arms physically ache to hold a little one. One time, on Friends (get used to me starting sentences like this, too), Chandler and Monica were being interviewed to adopt a pregnant woman's baby. There was a mixup and the woman thought they were a different couple. When she found out they had misled her, she wanted to wash her hands of them. Chandler tried to talk her into giving them one more chance:
"I really want a kid. And when that day finally comes, I'll learn how to be a good dad. But my wife, she's already there. She's a mother without a baby."
And so my stupid hormones make me feel like a mother without a baby. But after a couple weeks, it passes. And I think about the upcoming wedding in our family and I dream about nieces and nephews instead. (I was thisclose to buying a baby shirt today that said "I love my auntie!" on it, even though I've been told in no uncertain terms that there are no plans for babies anytime soon. WHATEVER.)
Hearing aids: I think I talk really loud. But no one ever tells me if I do. I just noticed a few patrons eavesdropping on my conversation at brunch today, so I thought maybe I was accidentally yelling. Oops. I can't tell how loud or quiet I am. I just try to match the noise level that I hear (or think I hear). Kind of like how when I drive, I just go at whatever speed everyone else is. Because the speed limit posting is just a suggestion, really.
In other news: Every now and then I get baby fever. I'm really not one of those girls who won't be happy until she's married with children. I'm savoring every moment of my single life. But my hormones don't care and tend to attack without warning. So once in a while, I wistfully wander through the baby section at department stores and dream about the pitter-patter of little feet. Sometimes I think my arms physically ache to hold a little one. One time, on Friends (get used to me starting sentences like this, too), Chandler and Monica were being interviewed to adopt a pregnant woman's baby. There was a mixup and the woman thought they were a different couple. When she found out they had misled her, she wanted to wash her hands of them. Chandler tried to talk her into giving them one more chance:
"I really want a kid. And when that day finally comes, I'll learn how to be a good dad. But my wife, she's already there. She's a mother without a baby."
And so my stupid hormones make me feel like a mother without a baby. But after a couple weeks, it passes. And I think about the upcoming wedding in our family and I dream about nieces and nephews instead. (I was thisclose to buying a baby shirt today that said "I love my auntie!" on it, even though I've been told in no uncertain terms that there are no plans for babies anytime soon. WHATEVER.)
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