Drumroll, Please

Are you ready? Here it is: the moment you've all been waiting for. Or maybe not. But if you've been dying to know what our big news is, I'll let you off the crazy train and tell you.

Right now.

No, seriously, I will.

Ok, here goes:

This morning, at a congregational meeting at a certain church in a certain area of Virginia, that congregation approved the call of Hubba Hubba as their new pastor!!!!

Obviously, we're super excited. This is something we've been working and praying and thinking and hoping towards for, well, almost the entire time Hubba Hubba and I have known each other.

You see, one fall night, Handsome Boyfriend (this was before he became Hubba Hubba) told me that he felt called to ministry. While his telling me this was a big step for our relationship, to be honest, I wasn't surprised. Not only did I know Handsome Boyfriend would make a great pastor, but I always felt that I'd end up as a pastor's wife. (And Handsome Boyfriend and I both knew at that point that we were meant to be married.)

As you might imagine, it's been a long road since that night. There was marriage. There were denominational requirements. And there was seminary life. And denominational requirements. And Wiggle Man arrived. And then were were more denominational requirements. And then there were times we weren't sure exactly what God was doing.

If you've been reading my blog for awhile now, you know that at one point we were considering whether God was actually calling us to serve Him in Kenya. Obviously, He wasn't. I don't always understand the roads God takes us down to show us His plan. But I do know that if we're patient, and quiet enough to actually listen, He will show us His will, one way or another.

Back in June, we traveled down to Virginia to interview with a representative committee from what is now our new church family. I think everyone involved had a sense right away that God's hand was in this.

If you're a part of our new church and you're reading this, I hope you know how very excited we are to meet you and share this life God has called us to lead together. (Oh, and my apologies that you get to hear your new pastor referred to as Hubba Hubba.) I hope you enjoy this glimpse into our lives, and I look forward to getting to know you and your families.

Soon and Very Soon....

I'll be able to let you all off the crazy train, and tell you what big changes await our family. And this time, when I say "soon" I mean, soon. Like, hopefully, sometime tomorrow.

Because of what I hope and pray to be able to tell you tomorrow, my week has been, well, full. Soon, hopefully, I'll be back to posting regularly about my adventures--being a stranger in a strange land, wife to a foreigner (ok, I guess I'm the foreigner here) and mother to a slightly odd, but totally wonderful Wiggle Man.

For instance, this week you missed out on hearing about Hubba Hubba's birthday cake. (Which tasted amazing, and looked like Wiggle Man might have decorated it. Except I did.)

You missed on out what Hubba Hubba requested especially for his birthday cook-out, and my thoughts on the leftovers, which are fragrancing the refrigerator. (Spell check seems to think that fragrancing isn't really a word. Bizarre.)

I'm not even going to rant about those ads on websites that are driving me crrrrazy--you know, the ones that expand to cover half the web page if your mouse even glances in the general direction of the ad? (Note to advertisers: this does not make me want to buy your product. It has rather the opposite effect.)

Instead, I'm going to finish my iced tea, (the fake kind--I only like the real kind when it's done the proper, Southern way, super sweet and ice cold) and go back to doing what I've been doing all day to get ready for next week.

You know, when the crazy train makes a stop somewhere.

Edit

I've been playing with some photo editing, so I thought I'd share.

Since, you know, I'm holding out on you about, ahem, other things.

Hint, Hint

Hoo-Hoooooooo

You may think that a certain place with a certain famous mouse is "the happiest place on earth." For many people, I'm pretty sure it is. I've been known to enjoy a happy day or two there, myself.

But if you are not quite two years old, and you happen to be my son, then "the happiest place on earth" has got nuthin' on this place:



We spent yesterday at a local railroad museum, and even got to take a ride on a working steam engine. We also got to spend the day with Grandma and Papa (my parents), so Wiggle Man got thoroughly spoiled. (As is proper, for a day out with Grandparents.)








Of course, Thomas The Tank Engine has a lot to do with Wiggle Man's love of trains.

All day long we got to hear Wiggle Man point out the trains to us: "Hoo-hooooo! Hoo-hooooooo! Hoooooooooo-hooooooooooooooooooooooo!"

We got some interesting looks in the museum, that's for sure. And, when he wasn't "hoo-hoo-ing", Wiggle Man was screaming. (Also bringing us interesting looks, stares, and--from the parents of other Thomas-loving toddlers--knowing glances.) Yes, screaming. Big, giant tears of agony every time we left one attraction to go to another.

It didn't matter that we were leaving the steam engine ride to go to a entire museum filled with trains. Or that we were leaving the museum to go to a petting zoo. Wiggle Man doesn't exactly have the concept of anticipation down yet.

All he knew was that we were dragging him away from something fun. It didn't matter how much more fun he was going to have where we were going next--he was willing to miss out on that to stay where he was. A bird in the hand, and all that.

There's a lesson in that, I'm thinking.

WiggleSpeak

Finally, (or so it seems to my anxious Mommy heart) our Wiggle Man is learning to say more than animal sounds. So I thought I'd take this opportunity to give you a dictionary of WiggleSpeak, for those who may not be fluent.



Dada: 1. Daddy, of course. That's an easy one.


Pop: 1. Pop-Pop (Hubba Hubba's dad. My dad is "Grandpa", and Wiggles is still working on that one.) 2. Popsicle (specifically, Mommy's special blueberry-banana-yogurt pops--the only kind he knows.) 3. The machine at the farmer's market that makes multi-grain cakes (like rice cakes, sort of) and which makes a big popping sounds. 4. Pretzel dogs, from the same farmer's market. This gets confusing, as you might imagine.

Car: 1. Car, simply enough. 2. Uncle Carl, our neighbour and good friend.

Book: 1. Book. 2. Milk. (I have no idea.)

Bee: 1. Plane. 2. Blankie.

Gas: 1. Gas. Heaven forbid Mommy not get gas after a trip to Walmart--he doesn't understand we don't need to get it every time we're out.

Chhsss: 1. Cheerios. 2. Cheese. 3. Shoes. (Sometimes, you just gotta take it in context, and figure it out from there.)

Chuch: 1. Church. Wiggle Man does not like passing by the church and not stopping. This has less to do with his early spiritual leanings (although we do have an ultrasound picture where his little hands appear to be clasped in prayer) and more to do with the toys in the nursery.

Bech: 1. Beach. However, since he likes to say this randomly (when no beach or sand is present) this one took us a while to figure out.

Brrrr (or, beurre): Regular readers already know this one--my bilingual child is merely asking for peanut butter.

Trash: 1. Trash, garbage.

Pee: 1. Just what you're thinking, only more inclusive. Wiggle Man refers to, ahem, numbers one and two as "pee." You just have too look at where he's pointing to know which, um, number he means.

Stinky: 1. Yup, stinky. He especially enjoys telling us his feet are stinky. Sometimes he'll even demonstrate for us just how stinky they are by sniffing them, declaring them "stinky", and laughing hysterically.

He has a few more words, but I think I'll save them for another day.

Blindsided

Just when you think you have them all figured out: they become toddlers.

All afternoon, I was in Supermom Mode. I was sooooo proud of myself: I had a plan. A plan to get Wiggle Man to eat something other than beurre. Or animal crackers. I was going to get him to eat vegetables and fruit. In a single sitting. And he was going to enjoy it so much, he wouldn't even realise it was good for him.

This plan might have worked, had it not been for the terrible unpredictability of the two year-old (or almost two year-old) set.

I made mini pizzas on whole wheat crusts, cut up the veggies very, very small and covered them with cheese. Then I made us fruit smoothies. Brilliant, yes?

No.

Wiggle Man sat in his high chair for...I lost track of time, but for a ridiculous amount of time, refusing to eat. Smoothies and pizza. I would have killed for smoothies and pizza as a kid. I certainly would not have sat stubbornly at the table, refusing smoothies and pizza. Now did I refuse potatoes? Yes. Pork chops? Yes. Meatloaf? Heck yes. But pizza? Are you kidding me?

To top it off, while typing this I had to tell Wiggle Man not to eat the goldfish crackers. Out of the trash. They were soggy from sitting in the rain for two days. Apparently garbage is preferable to mini pizzas and smoothies.

I have a feeling two is going to be a fuuuunnnnnn age.