I'm tired. We had juries this week, and I sat through five hours of good and bad guitar playing. Pretty brutal. Accepted one new student today. Hope she's good (yes, another girl). In the middle of juries, daycare called me twice saying that C had pink eye. Then I check FB and see cute pictures of her playing. Hmmm. Paul picks her up early to find one modestly goopy eye, but nothing else. Just another week in the life of toddlerhood.
Friday, March 6, 2015
Thursday, March 5, 2015
Day 10: Someone with Feet
It's one of those nights. We had just settled in front of the TV to watch episode 4 of the new season of House of Cards, ice cream in hand, when I heard a moan from E's room. She seemed extremely tired tonight, and I was proud to get her down on a school night by 8:15. But now she's complaining that she doesn't want to be alone, and Paul is in her room face down, pretending to be asleep at the foot of her bed. Well, by now he's probably not pretending...
Now it's almost 10pm and he's still in there with his face down. I can hear them whispering together and counting, and once in awhile he sings a hymn. I remember now that this hasn't happened for awhile - we've had a good 6 month stretch where she's been faithfully going to bed and staying there. Not sure what has triggered this, but inside, I am smiling as I watch my dear husband patiently troubleshoot this and also feel just a little bit glad that our little girl is still little and needs us so much, just today. Now if it gets to be midnight and I'm the one in there, I won't be so happy about it. But for now, I'll delight in this anecdote:
E: I want a grown-up in my room.
Me: Big Ninny is a grown-up. She's Bear-Bear's mom. She's right here next to you.
(Big Ninny is what she calls her giant Hello Kitty doll. It's round and ball-shaped, larger than a soccer ball).
E: Well, I want someone with feet.
Now it's almost 10pm and he's still in there with his face down. I can hear them whispering together and counting, and once in awhile he sings a hymn. I remember now that this hasn't happened for awhile - we've had a good 6 month stretch where she's been faithfully going to bed and staying there. Not sure what has triggered this, but inside, I am smiling as I watch my dear husband patiently troubleshoot this and also feel just a little bit glad that our little girl is still little and needs us so much, just today. Now if it gets to be midnight and I'm the one in there, I won't be so happy about it. But for now, I'll delight in this anecdote:
E: I want a grown-up in my room.
Me: Big Ninny is a grown-up. She's Bear-Bear's mom. She's right here next to you.
(Big Ninny is what she calls her giant Hello Kitty doll. It's round and ball-shaped, larger than a soccer ball).
E: Well, I want someone with feet.
Wednesday, March 4, 2015
Day 9: Little Lovey Dovey
E has been quite verbal in her affections for her us lately. She frequently looks at us with a sweet smile, tilts her head to one side, and says in a very high voice, "Mommy, I LOVE you. I really, really, really LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU!" She then proceeds to hug and kiss me profusely. Same to the rest of the family. "Daddy, I LOVE YOU. I love Cara. I love Jesus! Cara loves Jesus!" When all combinations of everyone loving everyone else and Jesus are exhausted, she then continues to gaze lovingly at us. "I love it when you're here! I love our family! You are the mommy I've always wanted. I love you just the way you are!"
It can be a little suffocating at times, but it is the sweetest thing and I'll take it over her behavior half a year ago or a year ago any day. 3 1/2 is a pretty magical age sometimes. Lately, she actually listens to me when I ask her to get changed or go to bed, and though it takes awhile sometimes, she is mostly delightful and it seems that tantrums are a thing of the past for the most part. I think it's empowering for her to be able to verbalize her feelings so well, and to know that she is absolutely overflowing with love is pretty amazing.
It can be a little suffocating at times, but it is the sweetest thing and I'll take it over her behavior half a year ago or a year ago any day. 3 1/2 is a pretty magical age sometimes. Lately, she actually listens to me when I ask her to get changed or go to bed, and though it takes awhile sometimes, she is mostly delightful and it seems that tantrums are a thing of the past for the most part. I think it's empowering for her to be able to verbalize her feelings so well, and to know that she is absolutely overflowing with love is pretty amazing.
Tuesday, March 3, 2015
Day 8: What to ask for?
I have seen God answer powerfully in my life when we focus on 40 days of something. In 2008, I fasted meat for 40 days and we saw God answer by relocating us to LA. Last year, at the end of 40 days of blogging we found a house.
I'm not listing this to toot my own horn, but to remember God's faithfulness in my life. I'm praying that at the end of this 40 days we will find ways to make C's eczema more manageable. Today the allergist's office called me back and said we were approved to make an appointment - yes, it required pre-consulation with our ped to even schedule an appointment. If this doctor can't help us, I don't know who can. He was trained at the country's leading hospital in eczema research (Jewish National Hospital in Denver) and is a pediatric allergist and immunologist. If he gives us steroid cream and tells me that she'll grow out of it, I will eat my hat.
The appointment is not for another two weeks - that's the soonest they had - so in the meantime, we will continue the new apple cider vinegar regiment and see how things go. Watching, waiting, and praying. And oh yes, another concert next weekend. Not time to retire yet...
Monday, March 2, 2015
Day 7: An apple a day
Yesterday, C was eating an apple slice and slobbering it all over her chin and neck. Paul noticed that the areas where the apple slobber landed were soothing the redness of her eczema rash. We quickly googled "apples" and "eczema" and sure enough, the all-knowing internets told us that apples have anti-inflammatory properties. Paul then remembered that his mom and grandma used to put apple peels on their skin for some kind of Korean folkloric dermalogical purposes. I think they were onto something.
We put some some apple on her face after bath. She thought it was weird and did not like it one bit. But when she woke up this morning, the right side of her face was pale and clear in a way that I hadn't seen it for days. The left side (it was worse to begin with) still had some red bumps, but nothing as severe as she had had this past couple weeks. Perhaps the rain helped too. I'm thankful for a little relief for our girl. She was so adorable today, asking me if my arm had an "ouchie?" too. Hopefully this newly discovered homeopathic remedy will help! Apple cider vinegar is apparently even better, as it doesn't have the sugar in it. We diluted some with water and put it on the red bumpy rash on her back tonight. I'm skeptical but hopeful.
Sunday, March 1, 2015
Day 6: On Performing
This may be a series of posts in which I process performing. There is just too much to formulate all at once, and it's such an integral part of what I am doing in life right now that I often lack self-awareness about it. But I'll try for a few minutes right now to get some of these thoughts out while they're still fresh.
There is pretty much one reason why I play the guitar in public. It's that quote from Chariots of Fire- "When I run, I feel God's pleasure." There is no other reason that I would do this to myself voluntarily - to have to get up on stage, throw my heart out at strangers, spend every ounce of my free time practicing, and be vulnerable in front of a large group of people on one of the most exposing and intimate instruments in existence. I am not a person that naturally likes the limelight. Sometimes I think about performing and I want to grow a turtle shell, hide away, and never come out. Some days I declare to Paul, "After this one, I'm going to retire."
Now, if you attended my concert last night, you would probably not ever think this. I am now well-seasoned enough in the art of performing that I can hide my fear of playing in public extremely well, and it might even seem like I'm having a good time playing classical guitar for an hour on a stage. This is not totally false - I do enjoy it, and there are moments where I have never heard the music the way that I can when performing, because the senses are so much more acute in a pressured situation. There's no way to really prepare for the challenges of the pressured situation except to just do it, do it, and do it again. So I've done it, and done it, and I'll do it again, hopefully my whole life. It is often so hard for me to keep going, to work up new repertoire, to keep getting up on stage and presenting myself and the music that I play in some kind of beautiful way, but I do it because I know God is pleased when He sees me trusting him and taking this challenge. I feel like every concert I do is a bit of a freefall. I jump, I fall backwards, I close my eyes, and then I dive in. And He always catches me.
Yesterday, a giant rainbow was stretched over the city of San Bruno. As I drove through the drizzling rain to get to the church, weaving through residential areas and wondering if my GPS was leading me astray, I noticed that as I followed the route to the church that the rainbow was getting larger. As I drove up to the church, the rainbow was at its largest viewpoint yet, with one side of it looking like it was coming right out of the roof of the church. It was completely strange.
The concert started and I felt a wave of peace watch over me. As I was playing Bach last night, I truly felt like I was in some kind of other dimension. My mind was almost empty - that clear state that is normally so hard to get to where there was nothing but musical lines going through my heart and mind instead of self-deprecating, negative talk. I felt peace to trust and to worship and to love that moment dearly, and I felt an intense joy. The promise of the rainbow stuck with me. Through this storm of preparation, the result could be utter beauty coming out of my fingers. And I think God was pleased.
There is pretty much one reason why I play the guitar in public. It's that quote from Chariots of Fire- "When I run, I feel God's pleasure." There is no other reason that I would do this to myself voluntarily - to have to get up on stage, throw my heart out at strangers, spend every ounce of my free time practicing, and be vulnerable in front of a large group of people on one of the most exposing and intimate instruments in existence. I am not a person that naturally likes the limelight. Sometimes I think about performing and I want to grow a turtle shell, hide away, and never come out. Some days I declare to Paul, "After this one, I'm going to retire."
Now, if you attended my concert last night, you would probably not ever think this. I am now well-seasoned enough in the art of performing that I can hide my fear of playing in public extremely well, and it might even seem like I'm having a good time playing classical guitar for an hour on a stage. This is not totally false - I do enjoy it, and there are moments where I have never heard the music the way that I can when performing, because the senses are so much more acute in a pressured situation. There's no way to really prepare for the challenges of the pressured situation except to just do it, do it, and do it again. So I've done it, and done it, and I'll do it again, hopefully my whole life. It is often so hard for me to keep going, to work up new repertoire, to keep getting up on stage and presenting myself and the music that I play in some kind of beautiful way, but I do it because I know God is pleased when He sees me trusting him and taking this challenge. I feel like every concert I do is a bit of a freefall. I jump, I fall backwards, I close my eyes, and then I dive in. And He always catches me.
Yesterday, a giant rainbow was stretched over the city of San Bruno. As I drove through the drizzling rain to get to the church, weaving through residential areas and wondering if my GPS was leading me astray, I noticed that as I followed the route to the church that the rainbow was getting larger. As I drove up to the church, the rainbow was at its largest viewpoint yet, with one side of it looking like it was coming right out of the roof of the church. It was completely strange.
The concert started and I felt a wave of peace watch over me. As I was playing Bach last night, I truly felt like I was in some kind of other dimension. My mind was almost empty - that clear state that is normally so hard to get to where there was nothing but musical lines going through my heart and mind instead of self-deprecating, negative talk. I felt peace to trust and to worship and to love that moment dearly, and I felt an intense joy. The promise of the rainbow stuck with me. Through this storm of preparation, the result could be utter beauty coming out of my fingers. And I think God was pleased.
Day 5: Rainbow Day
Today was concert day in the Bay Area. I'm too tired to write in detail about it, but it went well and God greeted me with a rainbow when got to the concert venue.
And my sweet husband left me these cute pictures in my guitar case. What a trooper he is for taking the kids all weekend.
Feeling so blessed to be doing what I love..
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