There is always going to be something you are not content with in life.

You wish you made more money.

You wish your boss made less.

You wish your house were bigger.

You wish your dog were smaller.

You wish your hair were longer.

You wish your nose were shorter.

You wish that your neighbor would not mow his lawn at 6:27 on Saturday mornings, in his tightie whitie tank top, and bright orange track shorts. Or, at least you wish he looked better doing it.

You’ve heard the saying, “the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence.” I say if the grass is greener on the other side of the fence, you need to take better care of your own lawn.

In my brief 32 years, I’m coming to realize that there is just going to be discontentment, always, in our life. And the sooner we realize and accept that fact, the better off we will be.

For me, my biggest source of discontentment right now is that I can’t seem to accept the fact that my family may be complete. I long for a third child. I feel selfish in that want. I don’t know if it will ever come to pass, or if the desire will ever pass.

I’m coming to realize that even if we did have a third child, there would simply be another source of discontentment that will replace it.

This is just the way life goes, and we are all the better off the sooner we accept it.

This is not our home. We are not supposed to be comfortable here.



There has been an E-coli breakout in our area with now 15 reported cases, and 5 people in the hospital. Three of those 5 now have kidney failure. The public health department has traced the source back to raw milk at a local farm.

One of those 5 people in the hospital is a precious little girl (18 months) in Brae and Sienna’s school. In Sienna’s class, in fact. She has been in the hospital for over a week.

The health department was at the school several days last week and determined that the contamination did not come from any food served at the school.

But the health department wanted to talk specifically to me. Why? Because just a few days before the breakout, and this child’s hospitalization, Sienna was sick. We had to pull her out of school for 2 days with low-grade fever, vomiting, and diarrhea. I just thought it was a stomach bug and she’d get better. And she did. But, because of the time and location proximity to the breakout and this child’s hospitalization, the health department came to my house twice to collect stool samples from Sienna.

We heard this morning that the first test came back “equivocal.”

We just heard that the second test came back as negative.

What this likely means is that the first test was either a false positive or there was cross-contamination during the testing.

It is likely just a fluke that Sienna was sick around the same time as this breakout, and happens to be in the same class as this little girl that is fighting for her life in the hospital.

Thanking God for healing my daughter, and sparing her a more severe illness, and praying for the children that remain hospitalized in quarantine.



This last Easter weekend, I went to see the movie “October Baby.” For those of you who have not seen it or heard of it, I highly recommend it. It is a very moving film about a young girl who, at age 19, discovers she is adopted. Not only is she adopted, but she is the survivor of a failed abortion that is shrouded with secrecy and mystery. The film is a coming of age for this young girl as she seeks to find her birth mom. But perhaps one of the neatest points in this film doesn’t even happen during the film. There is a trailer to the movie where one of the main actresses reveals she, in real life, had an abortion at a young age. With tears streaming down her face, she explains that by being in this movie, she found tremendous healing and forgiveness from God.

The irony didn’t escape me that I have my own October baby. Brae was born on October 31, 2008.

And now turning to my October baby, here are some coveted Brae-isms:

1) Brae is very into chapstick. The other day, Tygh came downstairs to find Brae smearing chapstick all over his face. Tygh thought, “Hmm.. That is an awfully large chapstick container… Brae, come here. What? What is that you have in your hand? … Oh no, Brae, this is not chapstick. This is a gluestick.”

2) Brae loves to play hide-n-seek. But he hasn’t quite grasped the concept. The other day, he told me to go count to 10, and then to come find him. He then proceeded to “hide.” After I counted to 10, I wandered around the house looking for him, opening closet doors, looking under furniture. Finally, I made my way upstairs to find him standing, lights on, right in the middle of our bedroom. “You found me, mama!” he proclaimed. “Now, mama, come here,” as he took my hand. “I want you to hide right here,” he said, pointing to behind the bedroom door. “You stay here, and then I’ll come find you.”

3) Me: “Brae, tomorrow is Easter. We celebrate Easter because it is the day Jesus died and then woke up again. And only Jesus can do that.”
(Long pause).
Brae: “No, Mommy. Only big boys can do that.”

4) Brae: “Mommy, shut up!”
Me: “Brae, that’s not a nice word. We don’t tell people to shut up.”
(Long pause).
Brae: “Mommy, shut down!”

5) Brae: “Daddy, what sound does a shoe horn make?”

//And here are some photos from our Easter weekend:


As we drove the fuschia pink Nissan Cube up the freeway, I thought, “I can’t go through with this.”

We passsed miles and miles of nothingness, getting even farther and farther from our destination. I was more convinced than ever that we had made a mistake. There was no way I could possibly survive seven nights of this.

If you are a parent who has ever gone on vacation – sans kids – you know what I’m talking about.

Friday Night:

— Grandparents pick up kids. Ruminate about decision for hours. Try to fall asleep. Not successful.

Saturday Morning:

— 5 am: Barely slept. Miss kids. A lot. Wander around house aimlessly. Husband puts me in car.

— 7 am: Airport busy. Spring break. Planes down. Airport clerk informs hundreds of passengers they are stuck for 4 days. Re-book new flight. Rent a car. Not a cute car. Drive 3.5 hours to Seattle to catch red eye flight.

— 9 pm: Really miss kids.

— Midnight: Catch flight. Wonder if I’m a good mom.


— Midday: Have not slept. Miss kids. Call grandparents repeatedly. Listen to sound of Sienna breathing. Laugh at Brae’s sweet voice.

— Late midday: Arrive in Cabo. See good friends. Good weather. Amazing resort. Awesome company.

— Midnight: Toss and turn. Miss kids. Dream of kids.

Seven nights of “rinse and repeat” the above schedule.

Kids probably not scarred. Mama may be.

So this is what it means to be a mother: To agree that I will forever allow my heart to live outside my body.

Really, really hard to function when my heart is hundreds of miles away.

Not sure I’ll be doing this again anytime soon.