Queen Kelley

As my dear King said, we are heading out of this busy, fussy life for a week. We’ll spend our days in a nice home by a lagoon, a 3-minute walk from the ocean. The King and I will strive to keep Ladybug from consuming too much sand or Butterfly from getting too wet in the cold sea. We’ll also work on getting my folks, sister, and sis-in-law to baby-sit a time or two so we can get a date night in Charleston. Try not to miss us too much. I know our posts are a source of great inspiration, entertainment, and comfort to your days.

Though I didn’t post that day, our family did celebrate and honor one of our most significant faith holidays. Dressed in our brand-new finery, we ended up having to go to church in separate cars, as Ladybug decided to take a nap right up until the beginning of the service. Finally, though, we were all on the church grounds, though in different places–the King caring for preschoolers during worship, Ladybug in the nursery, Butterfly with her pals, and me in the pew next to some friends. Our interim minister, Johnny Pierce, gave an inspiring message about the Jesus story not being “an idle tale,” and I was reminded again of the strange, almost unbelievable mystery that forms the basis of my beliefs. I won’t say I don’t question everything frequently, but I’m beginning to think that’s the only way for me to have an honest faith.

After resting and cleaning house, we were happy to welcome some of our best friends for an early egg hunt and Easter dinner. Three adorable little girls, ages 12 months, 17 months, and 3 years, traipsed around the front yard seeking eggs. Then we all sat down to a delicious meal of grilled pork tenderloin, creamy party potatoes, green beans, and then, the best–my friend’s incredible key lime cake. The kids enjoyed iced sugar cookies. The meal was tasty and the fellowship priceless.

On special holidays and every day, our family is grateful for the people we call friends and thankful to be part of a faith family that is open to wondering about, exploring, and questioning the great mystery of God even as we know deep within the truth of our hope.

The egg. It’s really a beautiful thing. Potential, density, perfection, goodness–all in one package. I realized as the weekend hit that I’d never even boiled eggs before. No matter.

My trusty Kraft “Food and Family” magazine had a simple list of instructions to follow. Who would have thought it would be so easy? Butterfly didn’t quite grasp what had happened to the eggs in the boiling water, but she was beyond excited about coloring them. I should note here that my local Wal-Mart offered NO white eggs on the Saturday before Easter. Greedy consumers like myself had completely cleaned the egg section of them. So we had to settle for cage-free, hand-gathered, brown eggs. I actually called the King and asked, “Will they color?” “Sure!” he replied. Which means, “Hurry up and get home because Butterfly’s wearing me out.”

My daughter was amazed at the bright colors the eggs displayed after we lifted them from their dye cups (with the exception of the orange and yellow ones, which still looked brown). She spent at least 15 minutes applying silly face stickers.

By the time we finished, we had a whole choir of goofy, grinning eggs. As for actually consuming our hard work, though, Butterfly has decided that she’s not sure she likes them. Upon her first bite into the soft white, she said, “These taste like Daddy’s eggs!” My husband only makes scrambled eggs mixed with a large quantity of cheese, so I think maybe she was trying to convince herself. Then she saw the yolk and exclaimed, “Yucky, Mama! I don’t like that part!” Two-thirds of the egg went into the trash.

We were expecting dear friends to join us for dinner the next day, and my husband said, “It smells like eggs in here. Open a window.” They do have a strong odor, and probably nothing is worse than the fragrance of a rotten egg. Fortunately, we haven’t experienced that from our cute egg choir. They are mostly still sitting in the fridge, though, and every time I open the door I find their smiles a bit unnerving. Wouldn’t you?

I’m remiss with my second daughter. I barely sneaked the last few photos into her “52 weeks” scrapbook (one photo each week since her birth) in time for her Elmo party last Saturday. I haven’t journaled about her in months. Let’s not even get into her first year scrapbook, the one that should include photos from birth and through each month, along with carefully written descriptions and loads of enhancements. Now I’m late with a post about her birthday. It is certainly true that my slack in these areas indicates nothing about my feelings for Ladybug.

She was born Wednesday, March 21, 2007, at 4:52 pm, weighing 7 pounds, 15.7 ounces and measuring 19 1/4 inches. She was chubby and short and let out the cutest cry that sounded like a little kitten mewing. Since the day we brought her home, all sleepless nights aside, she’s been a joyful “day” baby–smiling nonstop; first cooing, then chatting; loving to snuggle and cuddle and give hugs and kisses. These past few months, it’s been delightful to watch her personality burst forth. Ladybug’s hobbies are dancing to music, playing with toy cars, looking at real cars, touching people’s jewelry and saying “Pitty” (pretty), being outdoors, eating, looking at books, observing her big sister (and trying to do what she does!), practicing walking, and spending time with her daddy. She’s learning a new word nearly every day. (Tonight, as we dined with friends to celebrate Easter, the word was “Cookie!”)

With her creamy skin, right-cheek dimple, yellow-blond fuzz, and crystal blue eyes framed with long, light lashes, she’s a little doll to watch. On occasion, it’s sad to know she’s moving rapidly away from babyhood, but as I enjoy her every day, I thrill to every sweet moment and look forward to the little girl she’s becoming.

Happy birthday, my sweet Ladybug! Know how much you are loved. 

So not only do we have to wait an entire month before we get a new episode, but when it returns, it’ll start at 10:00! I can’t predict what in the world is going to happen with this show, but I do foresee utilizing the DVR for Lost in my future. Thoughts:

1. This episode gave us tons of essential information regarding Michael. Unlike I supposed, he actually got back to New York rather than heading straight for the freighter when Ben gave him the coordinates. In Manhattan, he commenced living a pitiful life, consumed with guilt over the murders he committed on the Island. Essentially, he lost Walt again and decided to end his life.
2. Except that he can’t end it. It appears that the Island’s mysterious forces reach even to the United States and continue to affect people’s lives after they find a way off. It’s only fitting, after all. Big Tom shows up, complete with a lover and indulgent food, and convinces Michael that he has more work to do.
3. Charles Widmore, Penny’s father, is confirmed as the mastermind behind the staged 815 crash in the sea, and it seems he covets the Island enough to want to kill all its inhabitants. Why is this necessary? Because they would give away its secrets, which he hopes to use to become even richer (really, how much money does one need)? Is this why the Oceanic 6 are sworn to such secrecy that they are living a lie in the off-Island future?
4. Enter the seemingly omnipotent, omniscient Ben, who secured Michael as a spy on the freighter with the intention of killing everyone on it (except, as he indicated to Michael, a few innocents). Ben’s means of convincing Michael to do his part is the promise of redemption for his murders of Cindy and Ana Lucia; supposedly, if he kills the freighter folks, he’ll in effect save the lives of everyone remaining on the Island, including, of course, Ben.
5. Perhaps Ben is not quite so all-knowing and all-powerful, for did he foresee Sayid’s reaction to Michael’s story? “So you’re telling me that you’re working for Benjamin Linus,” Sayid says, then rushes Michael straight to the ship’s captain (whom Michael earlier anonymously warned him and Desmond not to trust) and rats him out. Did Ben know this would happen? Is this what he wanted to happen? Is this his means of getting Sayid to be his personal hired hitman in the future?
6. In other news, it would seem that, contrary to all arguments, the Oceanic 6 are set: Kate, Jack, Hurley, Sayid, Sun, and Aaron. Also, Locke is an idiot when it comes to Ben (Johnny-Boy, I’d love to hear your thoughts on Locke and Ben!). Is it just me or does he seem completely unsure of himself this season?
7. Finally, there was the subplot of Rousseau, Alex, and Carl, which warrants its own number here. First, I never quite understood the true relationship of these women to Ben. I’m sure I’ve simply missed it with all the other plot complexity (not to mention the 9-month wait for new episodes). But…Is Alex Ben’s biological daughter, or did he steal her from Rousseau? If the former, how in the world did Rousseau and Ben ever hook up in that way? WHY? If anyone can explain this, I’ll be grateful. Now to what happened tonight. Did Ben know exactly what he was doing when he sent the three toward the Temple station? I’m betting he did. Why, then, is it necessary for him to get rid of Rousseau? (I have to admit that Carl was expendable in my book.) Did he plan for Alex to be murdered too? What stopped the shooters? Or did anything stop them other than the show’s closing credits?

Aaauuughh. This show always, always raises more questions than it answers. And now I have to wait a month to get more answers and raise even more questions.

My daughter’s only three years old, and already I’m feeling that I can’t keep up with the preschool rat race, such that it is. Take, for instance, Valentine’s Day. Per the suggestions on Butterfly’s preschool calendar, I purchased Valentines for her classmates. After I wrote, “To my friend” and signed her name to each one (no specific names lets teachers hand them out more quickly), Butterfly helped me fold the already tiny cards and affix heart stickers to seal them. We even did the big ones for her teachers. I was feeling pretty good about myself. Then we arrived at school, with our measly grocery bag full of little cards and nothing more. To my dismay, mothers paraded their kids past us, arms full of elaborate baskets designed specifically for the teachers, laden with chocolates and mugs and other goodies. There was more. When I picked up Butterfly three hours later, she returned to me bearing her own huge bag filled with not only Valentine cards from her friends, but about six plastic baggies packed with candy. Great. More candy to tempt me. As we sorted through the prizes at the kitchen table later, I was relieved to find at least three other tiny cards that were just that–tiny cards. At least some other moms are like me, either too rushed or perhaps too naive to go to the trouble of preparing goodie bags.

Anyway, I thought the competition was over and that, at least next time, I’d know to get my act together. Then there’s today, the Easter egg hunt and party. We all signed up to bring specific items. When I got to the list, the only remaining items were cups and napkins. I chose napkins. Easy peasy. Butterfly proudly handed her Kroger bag, bearing two packs of colorful striped napkins, to her teacher this morning. All the while, mothers and children again paraded past, some carrying trays of homemade goodies, some offering–you got it!–goodie bags. And I’m sure there will at least be a few presents for teachers in the mix.

What do you think? Will my child forever be known as the one who never brings gifts for friends or teachers? Does it matter that I’m planning a nice end-of-year basket for each teacher, complete with gift cards, or should I have been pumping up my daughter’s reputation all along to keep her in good favor with peers and instructors?

For goodness sake, this is preschool. PRESCHOOL. I can only imagine what the future holds.

What do you do on a rainy day? I actually like storms and was a bit disappointed today when this menacing Doppler screen resulted in nothing more than about half an hour of heavy rain. No thunder or lightning. Only a bit of wind. No gorgeous full black clouds threatening the sky.

Still, the girls and I didn’t venture out due to the chance of 30-miles-per-hour winds and severe storms. We hit the library this morning for storytime and a fresh bag of 20-plus picture books, and Butterfly unwound with a movie after lunch while the baby and I played in another room. After that, though, I knew my three-year-old needed to expend some energy, so I granted her permission to create her own play place in our den using the materials available to her–the well-worn couch cushions. Here is her masterpiece, which she enjoyed for nearly an hour, rolling down the incline, bouncing around, then climbing back on the couch and jumping from the top of the incline to the cushions below. There was much giggling and squealing…until Ladybug decided to try to join in, of course!

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As the King reported, we enjoyed a late Christmas gift Sunday evening when we attended Steven Curtis Chapman’s final night of his “Live in this Moment” tour. What a night it was!

I first discovered Steven’s music in high school, and I’ve enjoyed all his albums released before and since then. He’s one of the most consistently entertaining, inspiring, and talented Christian musicians in the singer/songwriter ministry today. The King and I had attended one earlier concert of his, and last night’s lived up to the high expectations we built after that first performance. Steven opened the night with a reverent time of praise and worship led by his oldest son Caleb. As the King mentioned, his second son, Will Franklin, joined the band on percussion for this tour. Will was incredible, especially on the loud, rocking numbers.

Coupling a stellar performance with a heartfelt and personal plea for adoption support, Steven presented a genuine, faith-filled time of worship for the crowd. One of my favorite parts was when he sat on a stool with his guitar, accompanied only by his longtime pianist, and played excerpts from songs fans requested. My husband’s was the last song he played, which was exciting, but the whole segment was fun and a quick highlight of Steven’s mastery not only of the guitar but also of the piano (he took it over during one song!).

My other favorite part was listening to the story behind his tearjerker song “Cinderella,” then hearing him sing it while a video of dancing silhouettes played behind him. I think the King ALMOST cried. Almost. That song, like the theme of his entire tour, urges us to live in this moment*, especially regarding our children. I know I’ve often rushed through my days with the girls, feeling too stressed and busy to stop for imaginary play or a quick dance to a song. It’s important to seize these moments we have, for they will of course pass, as all moments do.

I’ll close with a few lyrics from “Miracle of the Moment”:

‘Cause we are who and where and what we are for now
And this is the only moment we can do anything about

So breathe it in and breathe it out
Listen to your heartbeat
There’s a wonder in the here and now
It’s right there in front of you
And I don’t want you to miss the miracle of the moment….

And if it brings you tears
Then taste them as they fall
Let them soften your heart

And if it brings you laughter
Then throw your head back
And let it go….

 *Steven explained that, as originally conceived, the concert title was “Live [with long 'i' sound as in 'alive'] in this Moment,” but that people had been calling it “Live [with short 'i'] in this Moment.” He admitted that either one applied! I’m going with the short “i” for this post.

I would have begun this post by saying I’m glad someone finally found some happiness off the island, and that Jin and Sun deserved quality time together after the shambles of their early married life. But, as we know, that’s not exactly the case. Thoughts:

1. It was cruel of the writers/directors/ producers (whoever’s in charge of such things) to trick us with a combo flashback/flash forward. Honestly, I was more confused by this episode than the time travel one involving Desmond. Admittedly, I’m a bit slow with such things, and I did think Jin’s obsession with the panda was a bit creepy and he seemed more neurotic than Island Jin, but I still didn’t understand until the end of the show. Which, I suppose, was the intention.
2. So was Jin the one in the coffin at the viewing Jack attended in last year’s finale? If so, why didn’t Kate go to the visitation? Why didn’t Hurley? Hurley at least was supportive after the baby’s birth, even visiting Jin’s grave with Sun.
3. It seems that the consensus is that Hurley, Jack, Kate, and Sayid (and now Sun and Jin, though he’s deceased) are part of the Oceanic 6. My husband (remember that he is only a Shallow Thinker at best) proposed tonight that Sayid may not be in that official group because no one knows he’s back. He’s on a secret homicide mission for Ben and is under cover, so to speak. He wouldn’t have been recognized/rewarded as a survivor along with the others. What do you think of this hypothesis?
4. Funniest line in tonight’s episode (paraphrased because I can’t recall the exact words): “That’s not supposed to be there!” Said by the weird doctor guy when he led Sayid and Desmond to their nice, cozy, roach-infested quarters on the ship; he was looking toward the HUGE blood spatter on the wall. Sorry. This just struck me as funny.
5. Here are the questions everyone will be trying to answer: Can the captain be trusted (despite the note that said not to trust him, supposedly slipped under the door by “Kevin,” aka Michael, who was last seen on a nice boat jetting away from the island with his son Walt)? Can Michael, who killed innocents in order to get to his son and get off the island, be trusted? Is he indeed the man Ben has on the boat? And the major question that is replayed over and over: Can Ben be trusted? My answer to all of these? NO. Thus far, the only moral I get from this season is TRUST NO ONE.
6. What IS IT with the boat people anyway?
7. Did Ben stage the Oceanic 815 crash beneath the ocean? He apparently has the financial resources to do so. And if he did, why?

Well then. Until next week. Sigh.

Monica sent me a link to my favorite website for Potter news, The Leaky Cauldron. Obviously, I don’t check this site much anymore, or I would have known the news before she emailed it. Thanks, Monica! What do my fellow Potter fans think about this news? Given the incredible depth of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows and the gravity of the subjects it addressed, I think a film in two parts will do it justice. Apparently, it will be a Lord of the Rings style filming–all at once, then released several months apart. Filming the two parts at once will give it continuity, which is essential especially when young, rapidly growing actors are involved. It will also bring greater flow to the whole.

On another note, I had forgotten that Half Blood Prince releases this fall! Yet another Potter debut to look forward to. My blog may have been quiet on the Potter front since the excitement from book 7 and movie 5 faded, but never fear. The multiple Potter posts shall return!

Great episode as always, and it explained so much about Juliet. Trust was a major issue the entire hour. Thoughts for episode 6:

1. I finally feel that we can trust Juliet–at least somewhat. Not only was she removed from her home (she may have accepted the job, but her vulnerability at the time of hire and her new employers’ lack of forthrightness make her as good as kidnapped), but she is also the object of creepy Ben’s twisted affections. While I’d never condone an affair with a married man, it is clear that Juliet needed an anchor when she got to the island. She found it in Goodwin, which was unfortunate for both of them in several ways. Probably in the creepiest Lost scene I’ve watched yet, Ben showed Juliet Goodwin’s body, then told her she’s “MINE.” The look in his eyes–almost animal-like, but completely controlling, was chilling to say the least.
2. After learning what we did about Ben–that his lust for Juliet is great enough to drive him to indirect murder (not to mention that he gassed an entire group of Dharma people years ago)–I have a difficult time figuring out what to think about him. He’s rotten, controlling, sinister, and incredibly manipulative. Yet, he knows so much, and he obviously has the ability to be in several places at once. Time travel, perhaps? John Locke has taken some tentative steps toward trusting Ben. Is this the right thing to do? My gut tells me no. Still, Ben did reveal some answers, especially related to Penny’s father, Mr. Whidmore, whom some have hypothesized is masterminding the entire attack on anyone connected to the island, even after the survivors return to the “real world.” Ben says Whidmore is attempting to exploit the island’s mysterious capabilities. Who wouldn’t? Even with this info, I think Locke was wrong to get Ben out of the basement. Now Ben is completely in control again. The smirk on his face toward Hurley and Sawyer said it all. Another related thought: how deeply is Penny connected with her father’s intentions? Her evident love for Desmond would tell me she’s innocent when it comes to Dad’s designs.
3. Is it just me, or do Jack and Juliet have no chemistry at all? Something about their interactions is cold and unfeeling. It’s almost like Jack is forcing himself to care for her romantically, maybe to bandage his pain concerning Kate. Their kisses are not passionate. Honestly, I don’t even feel that Juliet loves Jack. She likes him, sure, but he’s a bit of an island rebound, isn’t he? The girl needs to get back to the mainland. It’s very interesting to compare pre-Island Juliet to her present self. She’s changed from a sweet, sunny personality into someone guarded, suspicious, and hesitant to feel. Understandably so.
4. Why does Kate always turn her back? She is constantly getting herself into trouble. Sigh.

Ready for next week and our final Oceanic 6 member! (Obviously, it wasn’t baby Aaron.)

As far as bras go, I’m usually wearing the standard white. Lately I’ve branched out a bit to pink and, most recently, black. This was merely because there were no more white pairs available in my size for the style I liked. Today, I put on the black bra. Butterfly entered the room as I pulled my shirt over my head, and she immediately stopped her singing. “Mommy,” she began, “is that a new bra?” Um. Maybe it’s time to stop changing in front of my kid. “Uh-huh,” I replied. She smiled sweetly and said, “It looks like Ursula’s bra!” Compliment or disguised way of expressing her true opinion of me? You be the judge. (Yes, I blogged about bras today.)

There’s not much better than a good dog. Throughout my childhood, my family and I cared for various hounds (I don’t think we had more than a couple of purebreds in all). We started with a black dachshund (ish) named Knee-hi, who was about three years old at my birth. Then there were various others, including Molly, Princess, Sassy, Sheba, Otis, Abby, and Luke. Dogs have long been a part of my everyday life, and I have grown up unafraid of them, maybe to my own endangerment at times. (A dog in our current neighborhood appears to have less than friendly designs toward me.)

There’s not much better than the excitement expressed by a dog when he sees you, no matter how long you’ve been away. There’s not much better than the sheer joy she experiences when you stop to run your hands over her fur. There are few animals as loyal and loving and innocent as a dog.

I can remember, as a teenager in great angst, sitting beneath the stars with my arms around big, black Sheba, sobbing to her about some horrible happening in my life (I remember the dog but not the incident). I can remember the soul-wrenching agony of learning that a beloved pet had died–whether in old age, sickness, or the wake of a vehicle. The power of these animals to connect with humans is truly amazing.

So, when the King and I got married, I thought it only fitting that we get our own dog. Never mind that he had little experience with dogs other than one who ate his family’s table scraps and did little more than take up space in the backyard. Somehow I talked him into adopting two puppies. After searching for “small” dogs on an online adoption site, I found these darlings:

Tell me you wouldn’t have been sold right away. Apparently, these puppies were born to a mother who had almost been euthanized during her pregnancy. A kind woman had taken them in as a “foster parent,” let the dog give birth, and then commenced to getting all seven puppies adopted. While we waited for “Hugh” and “Mary Rose” to mature, the foster mom emailed updates and photos. Soon these cute snapshots graced our inbox:

Finally, at around eight weeks of age, the pups were ready to come home with us, and we traveled to Columbus, Georgia, to pick them up. We renamed them “Pippin” and “Merry,” mostly because I was obsessed with The Lord of the Rings at the time. I have to say, though, Pippin completely lives up to the phrase, “Fool of a Took!” (If you aren’t an LOTR fan, I apologize.)

Merry and Pippin had their fifth birthdays in December 2007. They have been faithful companions, despite being relegated to only two rooms in the house when Butterfly was born and then, in the final months of my pregnancy with Ladybug, completely banished to the backyard for the rest of their earthly lives. Blame it on the absurd amount of fur and dirt they left everywhere. Even living away from us for the majority of the day, our dogs enjoy each other’s company, spend the day exploring our large backyard, alert us to visitors, eat a good meal each night, and soak up plenty of petting and playing when we venture outdoors. They’re great dogs, and we love them.

What is it with kids and Band-Aids? Butterfly believes the tiny adhesive cartoon-covered bandages can heal any ailment, from splinter site to bruise to bellyache. Her request sometimes comes through tears: “Mama, I NEEEED a BAAAND-AAAID!” She’ll hold up the offending body part and I’ll lean in close to inspect it for any trace of blood. “See the redness, Mama?” Um. No. But if a Band-Aid will make you stop crying, here–take it! Characters from Hello Kitty to Disney princesses to (my personal favorite) Curious George have soothed her real or imagined injuries. It’s truly amazing how quickly the salve works. At this point in Butterfly’s 3-year-old life, these colorful bandages can even soothe hurt feelings. Oh, to find the Band-Aid that would ease all her heartaches from now to her life’s end. But that wouldn’t really be life, would it?