I've Waited Ten Years For This

When I was in Bible school I met a Canadian fellow who informed me that he had penguins and polar bears for pets. As I find penguins delightfully amusing I was interested. Interested enough, in fact, to say yes when he invited me to come for a visit over Easter break. I was excited, I would get to feed, play with and cuddle adorable little penguins!

Then I arrived. No penguins. "What is the meaning of this?" I asked. "Oh," he said, "Penguins are shy little creatures, you'll have to come back for a longer visit if you want them to get used to you and show themselves."

So I did. A year later I spent a month of my summer in Canada. Still no penguins. This time he claimed it was too hot, "Don't you know penguins hibernate in summer? Come back in fall."
I did, again for a month. This time he told me I'd have to show the penguins I was going to stick around for awhile and the best way to do that was to marry him.

I bought it. Six months later we were wed. I arrived at my new home eager to meet my pets, only to be informed that these creatures are so shy I would have to be here for five years before they would show their faces. I determined to patiently bide my time.

Five years passed. Then six. When I asked, he began muttering things about penguins abiding in the South pole and other such nonsense.

Seven years, and he began to question me. " I never really said anything about penguins, did I?"

Eight years of marriage, ten since my first visit to his home, and look what shows up:

Sure, it may not be what I originally had in mind, but I'm guessing this version is even better!

WOW! She married me for Penguins? I thought she married me for love! Well ... at least I know the bait was good. :~) --Karl

Transition

Extremely excited?
Extremely scared?

I've been wavering somewhere between those two emotions the past couple of weeks, never really sure which one was winning.

Why? My Karl and I decided to take a step of faith with our lives. Due to some board decisions at his arena job which he could not reconcile being part of with being a believer, he resigned.
We've been talking for years about making the farm our sole income, but have put it off, knowing we needed a bit more financial stability first. Now we've taken the plunge. Going into the farm full time at the beginning of the season when there is no income doesn't make much sense, but we are trusting that this is what God has called us to for the moment. Won't it be an exciting ride?!
We've also made some decisions about the farm that leave me wondering how things will go from here. We've dropped our organic status, meaning that while we will not change the way we farm we can no longer advertise as organic. What this also means is the end of huge stacks of meaningless paperwork twice a year, keeping a fair amount of money in our own pockets each year, and much more freedom in how we do things. We think we'll actually be able to farm more sustainably without the organic certification. For instance, I'm excited to be able to compost without having to track (with receipts and such) the certified organic orgin of every orange peel, egg shell or apple core included. And to not have to write for permission every time I want to apply said compost.

If you want to know more, my Farmer Husband has started a blog of his own to chronicle our adventure. I'm sure he'd love for you to stop by and say hi at http://stonysoil.blogspot.com.

I do think the extreme excitement is beginning to win as we look forward to seeing how God directs us as we walk in faith.

The Most Romantic Valentine Gift I've Ever Received

February 14, 2009, my husband decides to take his girls for a much needed shopping trip and date in the city. Now, Karl isn't too great with piddly little details like dates and such, so I'm not sure if this was purposefully for Valentine's Day, or merely a day on which it happened to work for him. In any case, it was much appreciated, especially by Heidi and myself. Hannah was still at the age where getting her food and sleep were about all that was needed to assure her contentment.
I've previously considered posting about the amazing gift he got me that day, but have hesitated, knowing that not all would share my sentiments as to the romantic nature of this gift. What exactly is romance anyway? In my book it's loving someone enough to get to know them, to pay attention to their needs and desires, and where possible meet those needs, even if it means sacrificing something for yourself.
Karl claims this wasn't really meant to be a Valentine gift, he just happened to decide to pick it up when we were in the city that day. I say give credit where credit is due and he made my day. No, year, as I'm still thrilled about it a year later. Yes, a year later I say he probably better not get me anything this year as it would be nearly impossible to top last year. Even had he gotten me a $10,000 diamond necklace I wouldn't have felt more happy and loved. More shocked maybe, but not more happy or loved. Big jewelery isn't really my thing.
What did he get me you ask? Maybe I'd better give you a little background: When we built our house money was even more scarce than it is today. We saved on everything possible. Karl just happened to have an old toilet in the barn. That's what we installed in our bathroom. It worked... for awhile. Then it didn't flush so well. Soon, it rarely flushed at all. I tried hard to not complain. I mean, I did have running water, I wasn't being forced to use an outhouse in -40 weather. Things could be much worse. I didn't however particularly care to be scrubbing a toilet at three in the morning because that was the only time it would flush and I happened to be up to nurse Hannah. Nor did I enjoy explaining to guests that it really wasn't them, the toilet simply didn't flush. Occasionally, therefore, I did put in a polite request that Karl try to fix the toilet.
Little did I know how he would grant my request. It was beyond what I even could have imagined when we walked into the building supply store a year ago and he told me to help him pick out a toilet. Not only did he buy me a toilet, he installed it right away, despite my protests that it was late and we had endured a long day in the city.

Yes, the most romantic gift I have ever received for Valentine's Day was a toilet from my man. He saw my need and he met it.

How about YOU, what's the most romantic gift you've ever received?

Time to Fill the Freezer

I have lots of cravings when I'm pregnant, but living where I do has helped me keep a handle on them. I may be wanting that ________ with all my being, but is it really worth it to bundle everyone up, drive three hours (round trip) through a blizzard and come home in the wee hours of the morning just to fulfill it? I think not. Last week, however, I had a craving I could fulfill. I WANTED baked cabbage. I had cabbage on hand. It was a healthy option. I baked some to go with supper and happily ate it all as:
1. Karl doesn't do cooked vegetables
2. Heidi thought it looked a little scary, and
3. I didn't think Hannah would be able to chew it, molars are helpful there.
I was pleased with myself. I had actually fulfilled a pregnancy craving (it really doesn't happen very often).

After supper, Karl pulled me aside and whispered sweetly into my ear, "I like it better when you crave ice cream."

Does this mean I get to cash in on that one a bit more often? YES!!!!!

Any Suggestions?

We could use your help.
Before I had children, naming them seemed to be one of the fun parts. I knew it carried a certain amount of responsibility, I mean, the name I gave would essentially be that child's identity for life, but fun, none-the-less.
I neglected to factor in the fact that my child would have a father. Small oversight on my part, I know. And that father would have a say in what our child's name was. And that father and I would have very DIFFERENT ideas as to what constitutes a good name. Suddenly, when pregnant for the first time, I was confronted with the fact that, not only was naming a child fun, it was HARD!
Actually, we agreed on a boy's name the first day. Not bad! I knew from that moment we would have a girl. We didn't officially decide on a name for our poor firstborn until the morning after she was born. Then our second came along, and we used up our reservoir of girls-names-we-can-agree-on. Now we're expecting our third. What if God blesses us with another girl? Will she be forced to go through life nameless? Will one of us have to resign ourselves to a name we don't like? Will we each have our own name for her (I know of a couple who did that) and totally confuse the poor child?
Do you have any suggestions? To help you out a bit, and try to narrow it down a bit more than those overwhelming baby name books for us, I'll fill you in a bit on our naming ideals. The best way I can think to describe our style would be familiar, yet not too common. Karl leans more toward the familiar (Rachel, Sarah), while I lean more toward the uncommon (Karis, Annika, Daria). We DON'T want to do another H. I really debated about doing two, but three would simply be too much. And we like names that are decidedly feminine, nothing that could sound like a boy. For Karl, it can't sound too close to something else (example Daria = diarrhea, Natalia = Nutella) and he has to have heard it before. For my California friends, this gets a bit tricky as he had never heard the name Summer until he met my sister, yet names like Gerhard, Dietrich, and Lynden are common fare. Please, suggest away! But don't feel too bad if your suggestions aren't used, we are obviously overly picky when it comes to choosing names for these wonderful children God blesses us with.

Blessed

"I feel rotten" I tell him, hand rubbing my abdomen.
"I'm sorry" he responds.
"I'm not" I say, mischievous twinkle in my eye.
A questioning eyebrow.
A nod and a smile.
Laughter.


Why would I be happy about feeling sick? Because I know it's only a small price to pay for the wonder of life growing within. Yes, I'm expecting! Wee Wagenhoffer#3 should be here sometime in August. Our official expected meeting date is August 14, but I'm guessing Baby may follow in sisters' footsteps and we'll be introduced a little closer to the end of the month. I'm already thinking it's going to be hard to wait that long to hold this little one in my arms.

Karl Said Thank You

My husband said "thank you" to me today. He says it often, but today he went out of his way to let me know he appreciates "all" I do to keep our home going. I often let those words of gratitude slide, knowing I'm not deserving of them all, but today, today they went deep. Today they came on the heels of five weeks of illness for me with a new bout of sore throat and fever coming on last night. Today they came on the heels of two months of trying to clean and de-mousify (If I can use that as a word) our house and realizing just how little I can accomplish in a day and how woefully inadequate I am for the tasks of wife, mother, homemaker. Today he choose to look past my failings and thank me for trying. It went deep. It rejuvenated me. It reminded me why I do the endless laundry and dishes and cleaning and diaper changes and bed changes when there's an accident in the middle of the night. I do it because I love him, and he loves me, and we love our girls, and we all love our Lord, and as we work together through the mundane tasks of life, we can glorify Him. As we do things as unto Him, the mundane becomes glorious and our inadequacies cease to matter. It also made me ponder, how often do I thank Karl? If one thank you from him can bring about such a renewal of purpose in me, why do I so often neglect to show the appreciation I feel for all Karl does for us? I think I'll try to express my gratitude more often.

Life in the Frozen North

After a half an hour of preparation in the entrance a couple of weeks ago, the girls and I headed out the door for a walk. Then I realized: there have only been three months, three months, this year in which I have not had to go through this ritual. Which ritual, you ask? Why, the Land of the Frozen North Ritual of course! That of dressing everyone in snowsuits, hats, gloves, scarfs, boot, etc. before ever stepping out the door. It is, I have discovered a complicated art with little ones. Do you dress yourself first, making it more difficult to dress everyone else and risking becoming well overheated in the precess? Or, do you dress the children first, risking everything you put on them coming off by the time you have yourself ready? Then, there's the inevitable, "I have to go potty!" right when everyone's finally ready to head out. I do love the days of summer when walking out the door means just that, you simply GO, but this year, even then there were days of needing a jacket. I guess that's what I get for choosing to move North to be with my man. Every so often he talks of moving farther North to a colder climate and asks if I would be willing to go with him. I remind him I already have.

Table for Two

Having run across a very perplexing question multiple times lately (most recently on Momma Bug's blog), I finally determined to ask Karl, seeing as he would be the one the answer for me would most effect. Is it more romantic to sit beside your beloved on a date, or across from them? He sat down and typed out his answer before letting me see. Here it is:

I was pondering the complexities of vehicle decisions when my dear wife appears in the doorway to the room with an equally perplexing problem. Which is more romantic..(romantic!?...uh oh!) but then she continued "to sit across from each other or to sit side by side at the table"(Is this a reminder that we need to go on more frequent dates?) My answer is in the same fashion that I answer her when she asks an opinion regarding a sewing project: I rationalize, ponder, and then make whatever it is 100 times more difficult than it should have been. We have been limited to two compromising choices at restaurants when it comes to romantic seating and hence I will promote a third. Why must we suffer the distance with a table severing our closeness in order to gaze into our loves eyes? Why must the candle light dilate our pupils so that our Love's beauty is harder to be perceived in the dimness of the establishment? Why also must we be limited in our view as we sit close together holding hands facing straight ahead looking at our plates(though it does prevent stray projectiles from flying from our mouths toward our love of our life). I believe that the proper way of sitting at the table would be to sit at a right angle to your spouse(you know, a square table). This solves many disturbing problems. You can gaze into your Love's eyes, hold hands, enjoy her beauty in the candle light as it reveals her face in the dimness of the room, and raid her food...;). Next time you go to the restaurant don't settle for a mediocre experience and insist on the ultimate romantic seating position; right angles for Mr/Mrs. Right!
Karl