My Latelys

I can't believe it's May already. May 27th to be exact. Nearly a month has passed since I've shared a blog post (more like journal entry), I think to myself, as I sprawl out on our sturdy wooden bench at the dining room table. The cool, smooth surface of the wood feels refreshing against my skin. Coupled with this quiet moment, I breathe deeply and relax.

My body instinctively tenses as I hear a few tiny squeaks from the safari-themed baby bouncer to my right. I notice my body clenching; I'm feeling hopeful and yet realistic about what will happen next. Is she going to wake up? Or continue sleeping? My window of opportunity for accomplishing small tasks (i.e eating a meal, paying bills, folding laundry, or loading the dishwasher) is quickly closing, as baby girl's cute squeaks transition into shrieks and crying. Ruby wants to be held close, so I put down my lunch plate of warm veggie pasta, in all its savory goodness, and cuddle with her on the couch. Cuddling turns into nursing, and then napping - napping on mama's chest. An hour or two passes, and I try to maneuver my way off the recliner with a sleeping baby in my arms. She immediately senses that I'm trying to put her down and crying ensues.

And we are now back to cuddling.

From what I've read and heard, this is a phase - a sweet, albeit exhausting phase - where baby girl wants to be held all the time. On any given day, this will include 5-10 minutes here and there of playtime, called "Tummy Time," where baby girl is placed on her stomach and practices lifting her head and legs. It's a form of strength-training. Ruby typically likes the first few minutes of Tummy Time and then wants to be held again. I also try to hoist her around in our baby carrier front-pack, but unless I time it for right after a feeding, she freaks out and tries to nurse, despite whatever I am wearing. Thankfully, she is starting to enjoy her bouncer chair more often, and as part of my daily routine, I set her in there while I race around the kitchen compiling snacks or throwing together a meal. She can see me and that works for a short time.

Ah, the life of a brand-new mom. My days are structured around Ruby: nursing her, changing diapers, encouraging naps, and baby playtime. All these responsibilities are new to me, and I'm trying to balance them gracefully. There are moments when I remember what life was like before Ruby: sleeping in on the weekend - or just sleeping in general, preparing extravagant home-cooked meals and desserts for Ken and company, and hosting friends and family on a regular basis. Our house was well-kept most of the time, and clean laundry didn't pile up in the dryer for days (or weeks) on end. Ken and I made plans and were consistent in them.

My how times have changed. In this season of acclimating to a baby at home, I sense that God is growing my ability to hold things loosely. I no longer plan things with such definitive expectations. Mostly, I verbalize my desires with a keen awareness that something could change - my days are currently centered around taking care of my baby. A baby who is tender and reliant on Ken and me for everything. We are her world right now. (Well, us and the wild, black-and-white creature named "Penny" who likes to lick her face.)

As I adjust to all these things, I think about how beautiful and unique this time in my life is, where I have the opportunity to be at home with Ruby. I get to watch her grow and develop. I treasure her gentle heart, energetic spirit, and curiosity about the space around her. I'm her mom and she feels safe with me. Our home is a place of joy and hope and life. In truth, it also a place of challenge, as I juggle my new role of mother as well as wife and friend. At times, I have to remind myself that only in taking good care of my health and wellness, am I then able to take care of others. There's a reason why, when traveling on an airplane, emergency protocol dictates that parents are to put the oxygen masks on themselves first, before placing one on their child. I didn't understand this concept as a teenager, in hearing it broadcast over the plane's intercom. Only years later, through counseling, did I recognize the incredibly helpful metaphor that is for my life. In order to help others, it's best for me to operate from a place of strength. The strength that God provides, especially when I feel weak and exhausted and overwhelmed - strength I choose to pursue by practicing peace and rest, which looks very different in this season but is still just as important.

Savoring the small things. Like steaming hot showers, crisp bed linens, freshly vacuumed carpets, and soothing cups of tea. As well as celebrating the nights when we are blessed with a few hours of interrupted sleep. These are examples of how God is renewing my spirit and equipping me with endurance for this journey of motherhood. I find it interesting that in learning how to take care of Ruby, I'm also learning how to better take care of myself.

On that note, I better head out. I hear soft squeaks coming from Ruby's direction. She needs her mama.

My Journey in Blogging

6 years ago, that's roughly the amount of time I've been blogging. It all started with this blog, named "That One Girl." Back when mustard yellow was my favorite color, and my hair was the likely the longest it's ever been, and just a few months after I had met Ken, the boy who I was falling in love with and would later marry - that's when I began writing online journal entries on a more consistent basis. I was still in my early 20s and creating dance videos with my friends and sisters. (Remnants of that era can be found on youtube, although Lord-willing, those videos are hard to locate.)

I was young and naive. Although I had traveled internationally twice by the time I was 16, I was still unfamiliar with living on my own aside from college. The year I began blogging more frequently, I moved from Maui to Seattle with my cousin Isaac. Together we shared a 450 square-foot apartment and nearly killed each other. We fought like siblings and conversely, enjoyed the stability and safety net of having a friend and family member close by as we both got used to living in the city. Isaac and I spent those warm September days biking around Seattle, enjoying steaming-hot gyros and fresh donuts at Pike Place Market. It was my first "Indian Summer," and a welcome transition into big-city living. I can still smell the pungent aroma of fresh peonies and dahlias in neighborhood gardens, and hear the giant cranes lifting building materials at the construction sites near our apartment. Everything seemed radiant and alive. I loved the energy of the city and being able to walk right downtown. Puget Sound is beautiful, and helped keep me grounded during those long, winter days. Its vastness reminded me of living near the Pacific Ocean, during my childhood and in college.

In January 2010, Ken moved to Seattle after completing his time in Iraq. We got married and nearly a year and a half later, I started this blog, "Lettuce Give Thanks" as a platform for giving thanks by sharing stories and recipes. I feel like I've grown so much as a writer and a cook these past few years. Likewise, this year Ken and I will greet our first child, a baby girl, in March and celebrate our 5th anniversary in August. We now live in The Last Frontier, which looks quite different than the bustling city where we spent our newlywed years. I'm so grateful for where God has brought us, individually and as a couple, as we continue to seek after His heart. My prayer is that our stories will be a blessing and a continued way for us to give thanks for all that God has done and is doing.

In the words of C.S. Lewis, one of my favorite authors, "There are far, far better things ahead than any we leave behind."

My Baby Girl

I am my worst critic.

As I ponder those words, I can't help but notice my shoddy nails - overgrown cuticles, picked-at fingers, short nails exposing an underlying anxiety. The "click-click-click" of my typing momentarily moves my focus from my fingers to the dry skin patches on my hands, and then onto the tiny, interspersed nicks I've gained from paper cuts and playing rough with our dog and her giant chew toys.

My eyes glance at the growing protrusion that is now my belly.

I've never been this big in my life, I think to myself, as I consider whether to reach for a cookie or the giant plastic water mug in front of me. In addition to being larger than I can often emotionally grasp, I now have an increased appetite and bouts of weepiness. Out of a desire to placate my low emotional reserves, and keep from crying, I decide yes to eat that cookie.

As a child, my favorite character on the PBS series "Sesame Street" was the Cookie Monster. His blue, longhaired fur made him seem like a gigantic stuffed animal. I wanted to hug him, repeatedly. And climb on him. And eat his cookies. Or rather, eat cookies side-by-side with him. I also wanted to teach him how to eat a cookie properly - specifically, in a way where the cookie pieces actually broke apart in his mouth, rather than flying all over the room in mashed-up chunks. (Eventually, I realized that the Cookie Monster was in fact a puppet and therefore, unable to actually eat the cookies. That's why they flew everywhere.) I could relate to the Cookie Monster - a bigger, furrier creature who loved food.

Growing up in a more challenging family situation, food was a comfort and security blanket for me. Likewise, biting my nails gave me a way to tangibly portray my stress triggers. When my parents struggled with finances, and fought, I carried the burden by overeating and biting my nails. It was how I processed through my fears, or managed to live with them, I suppose. Years later, around the time I graduated from college, I started learning how to make healthier eating decisions and to stop using food as a coping mechanism for pain. That was the beginning of a long journey for me - one which included Weight Watchers, counseling sessions, dedicated exercising, and prayer. Around age 22, I lost nearly 12lbs and that was a huge victory for me. It look patience, resolve, daily exercise, and eating lots of vegetables and fruits in place of bread. I kept the weight off for almost six years. Then, in the summer of 2013, Ken and I spent a month traveling throughout Europe - wining and dining on local fare, daily gelato (and desserts!), and gourmet, five-course dinners. It was food heaven. I gained five pounds that summer and when we moved to Alaska following that trip, I couldn't seem to lose the weight.

It continued to get harder, as my increasing weight paralleled my increasing depression over moving to such a cold climate. My first year in Alaska was extremely difficult, and not at all like I had imagined it. Marked by the loss of Ken's grandma Alice, then the months it took for Ken to secure a job, along with missing my dear friends and community in Seattle - Alaska felt like anything but "home." A couple months after we got here, we almost resolved to leave.

In faith, though, we chose to stay and while I can't say that decision made it any easier to live here - that commitment, has over time, started to root in me. My weight began to steadily decrease in the months that followed, around the spring of last year. I also got back into running and met some amazing goals I had set for myself. An 11-mile run now seems like a manageable hurdle with discipline and faith.

Suddenly, I feel the smallest semblance of the baby kick within me. I'm instantly tuned in to the incredible event unfolding before me and I realize, once again, that I'm pregnant. In my excitement, I pick at my nails and half-giggle at the thought of being caretaker to a growing human. My body, in all its imperfections, is once again made 'perfect' and 'beautiful' and 'lovely.' It houses a baby. How incredible is that? I smile and think to myself.

In reflecting upon my struggles with my body and the vast changes it's been through all these years, I'm awestruck by this new season I am embarking upon: parenting. I wonder what my baby girl will be like and how I can embody to her what true beauty looks like. With so many failings of my own, how can I be an example of a godly woman - whose heart is set apart and not fixed on trivial things?

The culture and society I find myself enmeshed in values physical beauty, luxe fashion, charm and extroversion, power, and financial gain - many times at the expense of quiet mindfulness, contentment, generosity, inner beauty, and stewardship of resources. Honestly, as I find myself skimming Facebook status updates, Instagram feeds, and news headlines, I notice a marked difference in my level of satisfaction. I become envious of others. Jealous, resentful, discontent. The longer I browse these social media platforms, I lose sight of my worth. Somehow, multiple page and photo "Likes" equals popularity, and a false sense of superiority. At what point is it unhealthy and how can I continue to move in a direction of true relationship, where I place a higher value on meeting people at a heart level, rather than a page "Like"? These are the questions I ask regularly, in seeking to live intentionally. Rather than allowing a shadow of reality consume me.

And herein lies a unique opportunity for me to live differently. Set apart. For my daughter, and for myself. I want to introduce my baby girl to all the things that I hold dear to my heart, like my love for writing handwritten notes and cards. Postage stamps and penmanship and walking to an actual mailbox rather than just writing text messages.

I want my baby girl to understand how meaningful it is to give generously - not just when it's easy or convenient, but when it's hard, too. Likewise, I want to teach her discernment and setting healthy boundaries, so that she can bless others out of a place of strength, as opposed to being motivated by guilt or a sense of obligation.

My desires for my daughter include encouraging her to build her strengths as well as weaknesses, and giving her freedom to fail or struggle, knowing that her true sense of worth will never be wrapped up in her career choices. She is not just a pretty face. She is intelligent, capable, competent, and strong. True feminism is modeled by respect and love for others. I want her to know that.

I also hope to impart upon my baby girl the unique gift of listening to others, and carrying on a conversation. Without a cell phone blinking in the background (or foreground) and constant interruptions from text messages. I think about the friends and family I know who still value quality time, and honor the sacredness of uninterrupted fellowship. They inspire me. My Mom would never rush to take a phone call when we were spending time together (granted, cell phones have become a much bigger deal in the last decade.)

On that same note, Ken makes it a point to engage in quality conversation or quiet time together, during meals and dates. He helps keep me focused on the importance of living in each moment, rather than constant photo uploads to Facebook, alerting everyone to what we are up to. We don't really "check-in" at places online, we check-in with each other and how our days have been and where we are at emotionally. What a gift.

As I write this, I'm reminded of a conversation Ken and I had a couple years ago. In talking about having children someday, I asked him, How can we teach our children to live differently? How can we help them to be healthy - emotionally and physically? Ken's response surprised me, as it was marked by a sense of personal responsibility that I had never considered.

"I think that whatever we want our kids to learn, we need to model ourselves, in the way we live," he shared.

That makes a lot of sense.

I want to model to our baby girl all these things I've shared, and continue to seek God's grace when I can't do it on my own. In reality, I'm so flawed and imperfect and yet in Christ, I am made complete. Praise God. 

In faith, I will be a great mom to my daughter. 

I look forward to meeting you, baby girl. 

I already love you more than I could ever imagine. 

K + M + Baby

We're having a baby!!!

Wow. What an adventure these past few months have been. To update readers, Ken and I announced a few weeks ago that we're having a baby! Baby Crewdson is growing quickly and my current due date is right around Easter 2015. 

Today, I officially hit 18 weeks in my second trimester of pregnancy. That means I'm completely over the hump of morning-noon-night sickness (cue applause) and enjoying an increase in energy, which means less midday naps and more motivation to hit the gym. Ken and I, along with Penny (our border collie mix), are excited to welcome the baby home in just a few short months. At my doctor's visit yesterday, the nurse practitioner said that the baby's heartbeat is 150 beats per minute and going strong. 

Our baby is about the size of a bell pepper and 5 1/2 inches long. Ken and I are tracking its growth on our DIY chalkboard, which Ken made for me using a thrift store picture frame, which cost roughly $3-4 and chalkboard spray paint we found at JoAnn's Fabric Store for $4. Originally, I planned to purchase a chalkboard this size from Amazon or Etsy but all the ones I liked were around $50. "Necessity is the mother of invention," as the adage goes, and I'm thankful for my husband's skill at building and creating things I sure enjoy. 

Along with the excitement of our baby news, Ken and I get to celebrate Penny's 1st birthday in a couple weeks, which falls right before Ken's 30th birthday. Nov. 3rd marks 6 months of owning our loving pup, who came to live with us in May. She's quite the rascal and honestly loves food more than affection, I'm pretty sure. One of my favorite things I've noticed about Penny is how much she loves swimming! And fetching large sticks, which are in actuality trees. For Penny, the bigger the "toy" - stick, stuffed animal, or bouncy ball, the better. This summer was the perfect example of how energetic and lively she can be, particularly when friends came to visit us. In owning Penny, we've tried all different forms of obedience training and are still teaching her that jumping up at people or running after small children is not allowed. Her adolescent stage, while completely normal given her background (she's a rescue dog), is a good opportunity for us to practice setting healthy boundaries and in turn, either rewarding or correcting her behavior. It's our goal to get Penny ready for the addition of baby come Spring.

She is a good dog, and a great companion in-training.

     

As I reflect on the last few months, I'm blown away by how God has met me (and Ken) in our decision to step out in faith and move to Alaska. I have a feeling that no matter where we live in the coming years (Alaska, California or Hawaii), God will meet us as we live faithfully and pursue His Kingdom above all else. And while we are here, I'm blessed by God's constant hand upon us. I want to continue to set down roots here, building community and living purposefully. We are so blessed to now be starting a family after four years of marriage.

I turned 29 years old a couple weeks ago. I still remember how I met Ken on the small island of Maui at the age of 22, just a few days before my 23rd birthday. That seems like forever ago now. And yet I'm thankful that we waited to have kids and got to know each other, ourselves, and experience a fuller picture of God's plan for our marriage. Call me selfish, but I don't think I knew myself well enough a few years ago to have brought a child into this world. Praise God for the unique journey He's had me on and how in coming to this place, wrought with many challenges and triumphs, I feel better prepared to be a mom. I want to be a great mom, and that's my prayer. 

Thank you for joining me in this new journey of parenthood. 

Now, off to get a snack. I seem to be much hungrier these days... ;)

The Day I Finally Vacuumed & Other Reflections

I decided upon the title for this blog while glancing down at the fresh cleaned carpet between my toes on Sunday afternoon. "Ooh, it feels so nice and soft," I thought to myself, as I struggled mentally to get past the now overflowing vacuum bag, consisting of equal parts gravel, dirt, dust, hair, and other disturbingly "dirty" elements. It was the first day that I officially vacuumed our new home, just shy of three months since we moved in. 

In my defense, there must have been at least one or two times where Ken vacuumed the house within the past three months. Must have. 

Fast forward to the next couple hours following my cleaning spree. I sat on the carpet, read magazines while sprawled on the carpet, and ended up lying flat on my back on the carpet of our living room floor while brainstorming fireplace ideas with Ken. It was such a wonderful feeling knowing that I wasn't going to step on a nail or muddy my clothes with residual dirt. As I reflect on the past few weeks living at our new place, I recognize that our transition into being homeowners has been quite messy. We're in the process of creating a whole 'new' home for ourselves. It's such a cool opportunity to extend grace to myself and Ken as we work out the details of our new space. I'm learning that it's OK to get behind on laundry, dishes, and yes--vacuuming. Meanwhile, as I do start to develop habits and routines, I find my excitement increasing, knowing that I'm investing in our home. Everyday, I find things that I am grateful for as well as things that I want to change, in our new home. Perhaps, that is part of the beauty of living and self-improvement--being grateful and welcoming change as an opportunity to grow. 

Ken and I continue to work toward our house project goals. Some of which include:

• Replacing the old painted lava stone facade on the fireplace with brick and a new, efficient wood-burning insert. (We are currently in the purchasing stage with the brick, which is about $100, and the saving stage with the fireplace insert. Initially, we thought the insert would be around $1500 but after actually researching fireplaces, we found out that they cost about $2500.)
• Purchasing a second bed so that we can have a comfortable setup for guests
• Installing a new fence in our backyard, as well as a new driveway
• Turning our one bathroom into two bathrooms
• Putting up blinds and eventually, replacing the storm windows
• Purchasing a couch, art, and an efficient and space-saving washer/dryer combo
• Refurbishing our kitchen with new cabinets, a larger sink, and a gas stove
• Tearing down the kitchen/living room wall and installing a reclaimed wood countertop island

Our list is inspiring and at times, daunting. Ken and I have reviewed our monthly budget countless times (which includes our income and cash dispersal for bills) and keep coming back to the simple lesson that with time, diligence, and patience, we can save for our projects. "It's the steady climb," someone once told me. As Ken and I commit to living frugally (i.e. our monthly budget for Eating Out is $50), and practice satisfaction and contentment over acquiring more "stuff", we are moving in the direction of our goals. It's pretty cool. 

And oftentimes hard. 

And uncomfortable. 

Yet, so incredibly worth it. 

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I hope you enjoy these photos of our current home additions and improvements. Thanks for stopping by!

Ken tearing down the 1970s' style stone fireplace.

All the old rock pieces are off! :)

He did an amazing job.

New sheetrock and mud coating applied.

Our new dining room table!

Plants galore.

Hung a coat rack by the door!

Ken painted accent walls in our favorite shade of pear. 

Indoor succulent garden! 

View from our house - you can see the mountains. :)

Official Homeowners! {Photos of UnderSpruce}

It's official! Ken and I are homeowners in this beautiful, snowy city of Anchorage, Alaska! From our new home, we can see the towering mountain peaks and watch the sun rise in all its glory. Our backyard will be great for a summer vegetable garden and also comfortably house the sweet pup we're hoping to get in the next couple months. (Side note: I've already picked a name for her!) 

Ken and I -- after excruciating hours of intense deliberation -- have decided to name our house UnderSpruce in honor of the giant Spruce trees in front of our home and those out back. The three trees next to our entry way provide a sheltered cove of sorts and therefore, the name "UnderSpruce" felt most fitting, as our new home will be a cove and a shelter of warmth, safety, food, and fellowship for all those who enter. I look forward to carving a wooden sign to place out front with our house name on it!

A little something off the record: I really wanted to name our home "The Shire" or "Bag-End" or "Inn at the Prancing Pony," however, Ken felt that it was going overboard or too obvious that I was copying Lord of the Rings. I beg to differ. Yet in every great marriage, there has to be lots of compromise and working things out and so with excitement (and a slight tinge of disappointment--lol), we agreed on "UnderSpruce," although secretly I will always be thinking of that reference to 'Mr. Underhill'...

We hope to host many dear friends and family members in the weeks and years to come!

Here are some photos:  

The Siren Song of the Marmoset & Other Adventures as of Late

“MREEAK!” A sound like that of fingernails grinding across a chalkboard deafens my hearing. “Mreeeeak-mreeak!” It comes again, this time with a howl like a child being tortured. My eyes dart across the valley, crazily scanning for the origin of the noise. Ken turns to me and we realize that the shrieking is coming from a marmoset off in the distance. He’s on a large granite boulder, perched roughly 75 feet away from us. And he’s calling to us.

Gracie, my in-laws’ black and white Border Collie, instantly leaps forward in the direction of the marmoset. She’s ready to charge the wild creature. After pouncing through the knee-high brush, she’s at its rock.

But then it’s gone.

A cacophony of screeches ensues, some 40 to 50 feet away, now from different boulders. Gracie runs after the marmoset, indifferent to their changing directions. She loves to hunt. Meanwhile, Ken and I follow, happily chasing after her in pursuit of the marmoset.

This was last Saturday, as the three of us hiked through Archangel Valley near the now nationally recognized town of Wasilla, Alaska. It was my first time venturing down the bumpy, two-mile dirt road leading to this trail, within Hatcher’s Pass. Ken excitedly planned this ‘maiden hike’ for us, in hopes of helping me train for the much more involved 8-hour hike to the crashed B-52 Bomber Plane perched atop a glacier farther along the trail. The hike was wonderful, and a great starting place for me. I enjoyed basking in the verdant mountain landscape while breathing in the crisp 50-degree weather. Likewise, the abandoned mining buildings scattered along our path intrigued me. So much history happened here, I thought to myself, as I walked through the rubble, alongside a rain-swelled creek. I imagined gold miners panning for gold in those waters and digging beneath the surface for the smallest glimmer. And then there were the marmoset, those cat-sized animals scattering across rocks and among shrubs. I felt like we were on an adventure, transported back in time, to a rugged place in history.

In pursuing the marmoset, we quickly lost sight of the main trail and eagerly climbed boulders in the direction Gracie ran. Exhausted from the chase, I sat down on a rock ledge overlooking the valley, where we unpacked our sandwiches and snacks and enjoyed a late lunch. We never made it to the first set of lakes on our journey, our original goal, because we followed the siren call of the marmoset. Although it was a delightful detour, hopefully next time we’ll evade their captivating cries.

Along with our hiking adventures, Ken and I are learning to appreciate the ‘simpler’ aspects of living in a more rural community. Ken’s parents boast a lovely vegetable and fruit garden right outside their front door where we can harvest fresh potatoes, kale, broccoli, and cauliflower for soups, stews, and side dishes. Also, their woodsy and windy street is perfect for wildlife sightings. A year ago, I spotted a moose right in their front yard. More recently, Ken and I came across a beautiful red fox perched along a bank near their property. The majestic creature held a regal stance, as she watched us pass by her early one evening. We endearingly nicknamed her, “The Guardian,” and from time to time, question where The Guardian might be as we weave up or down our road. We live in a marvelous place, ideal for imaginations such as mine.

It’s been a month now since we drove up the Alcan and settled just outside of Anchorage. I’m adjusting to the change in climate, and the heaviness I feel from missing my dear friends in Seattle and scattered throughout Washington, Oregon, and California, is slowly lifting. Honestly, it’s very difficult to now live so far from my closest friends and away from the amenities of city living, and yet, I’m finding glimpses of joy in ways that I’ve never known before. Alaska has a sort of savage splendor to it. A wildly untamed state bold in its assertion of natural beauty. A diamond in the rough, or if I may say so, a nugget of gold pulled from a rocky mountain stream.

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Here are some photos from our recent adventures!
Click on each to enlarge.