Another Big Day

We've had quite a week in our family. Not only did Wiggle Man turn the big 0-2, but tonight Hubba Hubba will add another title to his name. Hubba Hubba is many things: Husband (obviously), Father, Son, Brother, Friend, Killer of Spiders and Other Unidentified Crawlies...but tonight, he adds Pastor.

Tonight, surrounded by friends and family, Hubba Hubba will be ordained as a Minister of the Word and Sacrament. In a way, it's the culmination of a journey that began when he was in high school, got detoured for a bit, and began again one fall night as we sat in his car and he told me he felt called to ministry. I knew then that one day we'd be here--he'd be ordained, and we'd be preparing to start serving a church--our new family in Virginia. (Still working on a blog nickname, guys.)

So, babe--congratulations. I plan on telling you this about a million more times today, but I'm so proud of you.

Party Time!

Now We Are Two

From this:

To this:

Happy Birthday, baby.

Wiggle Speak

As we've been meeting new neighbours and friends, I'm noticing I've been translating for Wiggle Man a lot. This reminded me it's time for another installment of Wiggle Speak. So here goes:


Sigh: (No, not the sound, I just don't know how else to spell what he's saying.) 1. Outside

Das: 1. Thank you.

Hoo-hoooooooo: 1. Train. 2. Thomas The Tank Engine. 3. Sirens

Cook: 1. Cookie. (Not that he eats cookies, mind you. He thinks fig bars and animal crackers are cookies. I'm content to let him linger in ignorance.) 2. Tacos. 3. Cook. Eg--what does Mommy do in the kitchen? Cook. What does she cook for you? Chssssssssss.

Ba-Ball: 1. Ball. 2. Baseball. 3. Target. (Wiggle Man calls Target the Ba-Ball store, because of the giant red cement balls out front. He tries to push them every single time. He also claps and cheers when we tell him we're going to the Ba-Ball store. Mommy has taught him well.)

Nom-nom: 1. Food, usually Subway.

Tuuuuuu: 1. Two. 2. Any other number. Eg--how many feet do you have? Tuuuuuuu. How many fingers do you have? Tuuuuuu.

And to finish up, a little Wiggle Eats. We took Wiggle Man to a Chinese buffet for lunch today. My son? Wanted nothing to do with the chicken nuggets they had. Instead, he ate an egg roll (filled with the usual cabbage, etc.) and lo mein. Odd boy.

Movin' On Down (South, That Is)

A thousand apologies for my absence—I’ve spent the last week amidst boxes. Boxes and boxes. Boxes of boxes. It’s been a little ridiculous. But all for a good cause—we’ve moved to our new home in Virginia, and couldn’t be more pleased. Thank you to everyone who helped unload boxes, move furniture, put together furniture, bring meals—we’ve been overwhelmed by your love and generosity.

I’ve been thinking—I have blog names for everyone I write about (except myself, of course.) How should I refer to y’all (I’m practicing being Southern) from our new church? I’m taking suggestions for your collective nickname.

My goal today (which was my goal yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that) is to finish unpacking the kitchen. Who knew I had so much stuff? Seriously—some of this stuff has been packed away so long, I’d almost forgotten I had it. However, I’m proud to tell you that only two boxes remain to be unpacked in my kitchen. (Let’s not talk about the counter, which is covered in dishes to be washed. My poor, poor dishpan hands.)

Wiggle Man seems to be settling in just fine—he’s very proud of his new “big boy” room, and tries to show his choo choos to anyone who drops by. He’s been sleeping in his “big boy” bed every night, and hasn’t rolled out of it once. He has, however, figured out that he’s no longer actually trapped in a crib, and has tried to sneak out and play when he should be napping. What he hasn’t figured out yet is that Mommy has ears like a bat.

Anyway, I think I may go back to my boxes for a bit—hopefully I can post a little more regularly as things settle down.

Another First

Wiggle Man is churning through the firsts this week. He said "bye" for the first time this week. And we had our first "procedure."

Here's how our story begins:

Wiggle Man and I were sitting on the deck Sunday after church. It was idyllic, almost. A beautiful day, a well behaved child...I should have known. We hadn't been out there long when Wiggle Man came limping up to me, whining and pointing at his foot.

I know, I know. He should have had his shoes on. Lesson learned.

So, I pulled him up on to my lap to examine the splinter that, sure enough, was sticking out of his chubby little foot. Using my super Mommy powers, I quickly grabbed the end of it with my fingernails and pulled it out.

Or so I thought.

Turns out, there was a whole lot more to that splinter. I had just pulled the tip off. What was left was like a small tree or shrub, stuck there in my little man's foot. He was not impressed with our attempts to remove it. He was not impressed with the idea of it remaining, either.

Once we got in bandaged up, Wiggle Man decided he felt better. Me, not so much. But I was hopeful that bath time would soften and loosen things up, and it might just, you know, come out on its own.

Not so much.

Nor would it come out after another "session" with Dr. Hubba Hubba. Dr. Mommy had no luck, either. Even Auntie M, with her nursing background, was unable to remove the shrubbery. So, the next morning we headed off to the pediatrician's office for the procedure.

Dr. D asked Wiggle Man where his boo-boo was. Wiggle Man obliged, pointing to his foot. Dr. D thought he was kidding...until he looked at Wiggle Man's chart.

"Oh," he said.

Yeah.

The plan was for me to hold Wiggle Man up to my chest, so he couldn't see the doctor poking and prodding. Hubba Hubba held Wiggle Man's leg still. Dr. D did his thing.

For 15 minutes. Maybe longer. I certainly wasn't looking at my watch, or anything.

No, I had to look into the screaming red face of my son, who chose this moment to say "Mama." Only it was more like this: "Mamamamamamamamamamamamamamamaaaaaaaaaaaa!" It broke my heart to not be able to do anything besides hold him, tell him every story I could think of, and finally just tell him Mommy loved him, over and over again.

20 minutes later, he was smiling and eating pancakes at McDonald's. Me? I'm still a little traumatized.

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.