One More Thing Before I Go

Today we're hitting the road for parts north and east of here, so it will be quiet on the blog unless I get a passion to share everything we're doing as we're doing it (not likely).

But I wanted to let you know that if you have children in your life -- your own or someone else's -- you should buy them this album, Slugs and Bugs and Lullabies.  It's on sale today in the Rabbit Room.

Here's a sample:

Please Supply An Advertising Tagline For This Product

It's Friday...time to play a little.

How would you market these beauties?

Dream World

On Thursday morning we went to Cafe Lalo for breakfast.  This gem is on the Upper West Side. 
The moment we exited the subway onto Broadway in this part of town, I channeled

Andie MacDowell in "Groundhog Day" and said "LET'S LIVE HERE!" 
The Upper West Side is still Manhattan, but it's quiet.  You can hear birds (yes, even in winter).  It's quiet and a bit roomier than midtown.

We have already discussed the giant cups of coffee and delicious offerings for breakfast.

And we have already covered Zabar's.  This day was the first of our two visits.

I purchased a special bowl on this day for an adorable friend. 
Around noontime, we boarded a train on the Long Island Railroad to go visit her.  A couple of hours later, we were in a place that looked like this:

Two years ago, Erica was living in Kenya.  Now she lives in Long Island, in a place that most people only dream about vacationing in. 
She married a savvy man who is enrolled at Stonybrook and is good at talking crazy landladies into lower rent deals.

Sadly, though I took a few pictures of the landscape, I got no pictures of Erica.

So you'll have to go get to know her at her blog.

One thing I got to do at her house was push a car out of the snow.  That was VERY fun.  I'll tell you the whole story next time.

Overheard

Maddie, patting Mom on the arm: Mumma. Mumma. Ba bee bee mmm dada um no baybee buh buh bee bee bee bee.

Mom: Oh?

Cameron: Mom, I know what she's talking about. She's talking about bees. I'm really good at understanding her.

Proof of Life

Little fingers and paint

For an explanation of this series, go here.

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Sunday Praise

Praising God is one of the highest and purest acts of religion.  

In prayer we act like men; in praise we act like angels.

  -- Thomas Watson

Overheard

The "This Makes (Some of) It Worthwhile" Edition

After a looooooong day of exasperating behavior, distracted obedience, and generally frustrating conduct, the boys are beginning to see Mom's nerves become completely frayed.

Cameron ventures out on a limb...

Cameron:  I'm sure glad we have you, Mom.  Without you this house would be a disaster.

Back to the Big Apple

When we last left our intrepid urban explorers, they were trekking across the Great Bridge.  Since the walk to and from Brooklyn wasn't enough, they decided to get off the subway at an inappropriately faraway stop and walk all the way to a decidedly more somber location...

Ground zero.

I'm sure you remember where you were when you heard.

The owner of this helmet was in a stairwell on the 23rd floor when the tower collapsed.  He attributes his survival to his leather fire helmet.

This is what the plaza will look like when construction is completed.

I loved this note to the FDNY from a schoolchild; it says, "Dear firemen, I'm sorry that you guys have to do hard stuff but you guys are doing a great job."

Then we headed across the street to St. Paul's Chapel.  We were there on Ash Wednesday, so we quietly circled the outer rim of the chapel while the priest distributed ashes to a growing line of commuters on their way home.

The chapel was the haven for workers at Ground Zero for months.  They served food, coordinated volunteers, provided counseling, gave foot massages, and supplied cots.  Pews served as beds for those who did not have a cot; you can see in the photo that the firemen's boots scraped up the paint on the pews.  The song "Amazing Grace" was played by someone on their piano every day for months.

This is the pew where George Washington prayed after he was inaugurated.

A few blocks from there (yes, we're still walking) ...

is a rocky hillside that looks out of place.  We walked by it a few times without realizing it was just what we were looking for.

The Irish Hunger Memorial.

The front of the hillside is reminiscent of Ireland's countryside (I assume, when it's not snow-covered), and the back is a shiny black wall embedded with illuminated words from the time of the Potato Famine.

"Our potato crop is lost without exception I believe throughout Ireland."

"The blight came in before St. John's Day.  It came like a fog in the evening and appeared low on the water.  Next morning the potato stalks were black."

Then we took a subway to the Village and walked around some more even though by this time I was whining something fierce.  We had a so-so hot dog at Gray's Papaya (WHILE STANDING UP, OH THE IRONY!)...

and walked a little more.  Then more walking for another Magnolia cupcake.

Then David couldn't take my whining about my feet anymore so we got on the subway and went back to the hotel and watched the Olympics.

It's No Wonder People Are Switching to Mammon

Recently I listened to Mark Dever preach on Mark 10:17-31 (below), and he referenced this ad.  It was so clever I had to look it up.  I found it here.

17 And as he was setting out on his journey, a man ran up and knelt before him and asked him, “Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” 18 And Jesus said to him, “Why do you call me good? No one is good except God alone. 19 You know the commandments: ‘Do not murder, Do not commit adultery, Do not steal, Do not bear false witness, Do not defraud, Honor your father and mother.’” 20 And he said to him, “Teacher, all these I have kept from my youth.” 21 And Jesus, looking at him, loved him, and said to him, “You lack one thing: go, sell all that you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.” 22 Disheartened by the saying, he went away sorrowful, for he had great possessions.

 23 And Jesus looked around and said to his disciples, “How difficult it will be for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God!” 24 And the disciples were amazed at his words. But Jesus said to them again, “Children, how difficult it is to enter the kingdom of God! 25 It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the kingdom of God.” 26 And they were exceedingly astonished, and said to him, “Then who can be saved?” 27 Jesus looked at them and said, “With man it is impossible, but not with God. For all things are possible with God.” 28 Peter began to say to him, “See, we have left everything and followed you.” 29 Jesus said, “Truly, I say to you, there is no one who has left house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or lands, for my sake and for the gospel, 30 who will not receive a hundredfold now in this time, houses and brothers and sisters and mothers and children and lands, with persecutions, and in the age to come eternal life. 31 But many who are first will be last, and the last first.”

You can listen to the sermon, "Money Lies" here.

Fore

These two fine-looking gentlemen begin golf lessons this morning.  Watch out, Phil!

Lend Your Voice

Please, please consider signing the petition below that pleads for the continuation of US-Russian adoptions.  The goal is 10,000 signatures by 5pm EST tonight.  I was number 9,6.. something, so they are very close!

We Are the Truth

(Sorry, the link isn't working for me properly, so let's do this the old fashioned way)

http://www.gopetition.com/online/35485.html

I'm Sorry, But I Have An Old Rap Song In My Head Right Now

Every night we put our adorable daughter to bed, pristine in clean, girly pajamas.

She nestles down under her soft pink blanket, knitted for her by her grandmother.

She sucks her thumb quietly and drifts off to sleep without a sound.

Then, about two hours later...

SLAM!

She hits the wall...with some part of her body.  Her head?  Maybe.  Legs?  Arms?  Who knows.

When it happens, we're usually downstairs in the living room, which is on the other side of that same wall.  We look up at the spot where the noise came from, pause, and then go on with what we were doing.

You see, I used to do the same thing.  My parents tell tales of the horrible wall-whacking noises that would come from my bedroom at night hours after I fell asleep.  My sister, who shared a wall with me, would tell you the same.

Did I wake up?  Nope.

Am I worried about my daughter waking up?  Nope.  She's got good sleeping genes.

(ten points if you can name the song)

Proof of Life

Stuck.

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Brain Dump

These three weeks at the end of March and beginning of April always throw me for a loop.  Two kids' birthdays, Easter, and the first hot week of the summer come all together and say to me, "YOU HAVE NO PRESENTS BOUGHT!  MORE FOOD!  MORE BAKING!  YOUR CHILDREN ARE STILL WEARING CORDUROY AND LONG SLEEVES!  AND THERE IS THE SMALL MATTER OF ALL THAT LAUNDRY...."

So here I am to brain dump on you.  Get ready.

I made Smitten Kitchen's cold-brewed iced coffee yesterday and it is every bit as good as she says.  I am happy that it's baseball season.  I just realized yesterday that I need to make the list of items we have to do before I officially declare it summer vacation.  I feel like we just started this school year.  Maddie has entered toddlerhood with a vengeance.  I am reading about Abigail Adams right now.  I need a haircut.  Standardized testing week is coming up quickly.  My friend brought me sunflowers last week and they are brightening up my kitchen.  The city gave us new giant recycling bins but we can't use them until July.  I need to clean up the den because the pattern pieces from Easter are still scattered everywhere.  I am attending my 15th high school reunion next month in Massachusetts.  I love playing Andy Osenga's song "Swing Wide the Glimmering Gates" when I'm driving in the sunshine.  I have to take the kids to the dentist this afternoon.  Jerry Bridges has been saying all along everything that the Gospel-centric guys are saying like it's new.  We have a plant in our fish tank that is thriving so much it's putting a squeeze on the fish.  I should probably volunteer more.  I didn't paint my toenails all winter so when I painted them for Resurrection Sunday, I covered up a teeny bit of polish that I applied for my friend Erica's wedding in early September, which made me oddly proud.

Easter weekend

On Friday we rearranged the furniture and set up for our annual seder supper.  The table in the foreground is relatively new; it was a happy discovery in the IKEA as-is room and seats up to 14.  Jonathan and Maddie enjoyed racing cars down the length of it.

the seder plate

here's the full setup.

Easter morning brought gifts for the kids

some kids were more excited than others

Maddie wore a hat to church and tripped on her dress on the front lawn

the traditional Resurrection Day photo

Chocolate pavlova was our dessert -- a happy accident after I discovered I hadn't bought lemons to make lemon curd for the trifle I'd planned.

Proof of Life

Big brother's shoes

For an explanation of this series, go here.

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Glory Seen and Unseen

I enter the van post-shopping trip, nerves frayed and patience gone.  There was too much touching in the store, not enough listening and obeying.  A young woman greeted me in the aisle and counted aloud, and then informed me that she wasn't surprised that there were two bottles of wine in the cart.

As we click our safety belts and settle in for the ten minute ride home, a request comes from the backseat for "a popular CD."  OK, I think...rustling through the mismatched CDs and their cases, in search of something to satisfy the various musical tastes.

Found it.  It's Holy Week.  Time for a weeklong reprieve in the storage of Behold the Lamb of God.

As we back out of the parking space, Andrew reads to us of The Story, of a young hero coming to rescue the one that He loves.  The children fall silent, awaiting Osenga's opening chord.  They know it well.  They've known it for all of their short lives.  Then Garrett comes in with the steady driving beat, calling them to pay attention...to listen.

And suddenly, I am listening and seeing again.  The music is loud -- probably too loud for their young ears -- but I don't care.  They must learn what it is to drive in the sunshine with the windows down, music blaring.  The road stretches out before us, calling us forth.  At every turn, a new color declares its Maker.  The azaleas are showing the first signs of blooming.  The daffodils are showy, delirious in a springy yellow haze.

Gather round, remember now/How creation held its breath/

How it let out a sigh/And filled up the sky with the angels

We turn a corner and I see the border of suburbia, that ludicrous line where the pastureland abuts the building lots.  The white cows are beyond the treeline today, but I can still see them scattered across the green as they eat a late lunch.  Their rural tranquility mocks the stucco house a few hundred yards away.  A bradford pear demurely shows its last few blossoms as the dogwood shouts out a song.

So sing out for joy for the brave little boy/who was God, but He made Himself nothing/

He gave up His pride and He came here to die like a man

We pass through a construction site and I roll the back windows down a bit further, hoping to bless the signmen with the music.  As we do, the opening strains of "Passover Us" remind me of the reason for my errand.  Enclosed within the sacks on the floor are horseradish, parsley, matzoh, wine and other makings of our annual Seder supper.  We will celebrate as the Jews did, but with a different ending.  We know the fulfillment of the prophecy personally.  The herbs are bitter and remind us of the pain of slavery, the saltwater reminds us of the slaves' tears, but the wine becomes sweet as we anticipate drinking again at the marriage supper of the Lamb.  "Next year in Jerusalem!" we cry out in Hebrew with raised glasses.  Lord, come quickly.

That night all the children of Israel prayed/

"Lord, let your judgment passover us/Lord, let your love hover near/

Don't let your sweet mercy passover us/Let this blood cover over us here" 

We turn the corner into the neighborhood and Andrew, Jill, Andy and the rest are belting out the chorus a few more times as Garrett hammers the drum solo home in the background.  There's a part of me that wants to keep driving, but babies need naps and preparations must be made for our dinner.  I give thanks for this short moment, this window into the eternal, this showing forth of glory seen and unseen.

He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation.  For by him all things were created, in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities—all things were created through him and for him.  And he is before all things, and in him all things hold together.  And he is the head of the body, the church. He is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, that in everything he might be preeminent.  For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace by the blood of his cross.

Colossians 1:15-20