The over-due post...

It's been quite awhile since I wrote last or even visited my own blog. And now reading back, I left on quite a sad note. So let's restore happiness and lighthearted conversation...

I've written dozens of posts in my absence. I promise. My only problem? They never make it out of my head and into writing. Laziness? Perhaps. However, I like to think of it from a perfectionist point-of-view. I like to think that there are no perfect words to describe what I see. The words I write in my head are those only I can fathom; only I can understand. By writing them down, words, images and happenings get lost in translation. It's like watching the movie prior to reading the book. One or the other never lives up to your expectations.

So for you avid readers, the one's who read the book first, this one is for you.

Life. It's been a whirlwind lately. A beautiful colorful whirlwind of work, baby laughter, baby steps and crisp cool summer rains.

I was sitting on the floor playing with my baby a couple weeks ago and I realized something that made me both giddy with joy and slightly saddened; Amaias is growing up.

I knew it was bound to happen. I never put a brick on his head or stunted his growth with coffee. I never fed hm that special "keep baby a baby for forever" magic pill. And really, I am so thankful I didn't. You know why? I have been given one of the highest honors of motherhood. I have witnessed some of my favorite "firsts" yet. The first bite of solids, the first scoot around the living room floor on his hands and knees, the first attempt to stand alone, the first few steps and of course, the first face plant. But the most fun has come in learning his definitions for certain objects. Let me enlighten you:


Definition: An informal term for a father; the person who has whiskers that make it difficult to kiss on
Word used: Daddy

Definition: A highly variable domestic mammal (Canis familiaris) closely related to the gray wolf
Word used: Daddy

Definition: A female parent; maternal tenderness or affection
Word used: Daddy

Definition: What provides amusement or enjoyment; a mood for finding or making amusement
Word used: Daddy


Apparently, I have much to learn about the English language. We have made it so complex and far too deep. Why can't the this language solely consist of the word "Daddy"? Daddy, daddy. Dada daddy dad. Daddy daddy daddy da. It might just solve the language barrier; little children might read more often; it would empower the imagination- ignite a flame and open up a whole new world in the eyes of children and adults alike. Just a thought.


Another sweet and tender moment, brought to you today by Amaias. Introducing the whisper. It is heartwarming. He has learned to whisper ever so tenderly the word "this". In a world of wonder and new environments this little life approaches, Kelly and I are infatuated with introducing new objects and new sounds as we quietly say to him, "Amaias, what is this?" And he quietly responds by whispering, "this". I am reminded of this verse when I hear him softly and gently respond to me. "Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as braided hair and the wearing of gold jewelry and fine clothes. Instead, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God's sight." 1 Peter 3:3-4. He has such a gentle, quiet spirit. Something that I know I once had but almost daily find myself searching my heart for. I thank God for giving me such a treasure and such a wonderful son to learn from. May we all learn to be quiet once in awhile. Just listen. Absorb. Evaluate. Just be still.


Now, don't let the whispering fool you. If need be, Amaias will gently yet soulfully inform you of his excitement, (or lack there of), in an object. Thank goodness the giraffes at the zoo were not too phased by his squealing...

We began our zoo adventure with none other than the giraffes. I felt like a kid in a candy store while watching Amaias feed them. It was priceless. This kid has no fear.

Some days are like ice cream.

Sweet, refreshing and by golly, one of the finest gifts given or received.

This day was just that.

Notice how tenderly he gives the cracker and how gracefully his fingers flair as he brings his hand back in the last picture. He is gentle. Until he decides to drum. I mean, really drum. On everything...

We are all convinced he will be a drummer some day.

I'll leave you with these last few pictures from our family photo shoot taken by none other than my dear friend, Abby Mortenson. You can check out some of her beautifully unique work here. 

There you have it. The over-due blog. I know I could just keep going but it's been a few days now working on it and I know that if I don't end now, it may turn into a novel instead of a blog post. 

I know I have such a beautiful life. Many lessons learned; many I'm still trying to understand. But thankful nonetheless for each moment I have been blessed with.

Ephesians 3:14-21
"For this reason I kneel before the Father, from whom his whole family in heaven and on earth derives its name. I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge-that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.

Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen."

 

Somedays I wish I were a bird...

What a wonderful baby daddy. Meet Hal, Shallow's man bird. He is steady, strong and caring. Every woman's dream.






Over the past few weeks, Kelly, Amaias and I have had the privilege of watching these birds live a life similar to you and I. And it was perfect. The perfect nest snuggled into the most desired location, a tree tucked in the far back corner out of sight and nestled in between a series of branches which held it firmly in place. Shallow sat for days on what I believed to be an egg or two. Very rarely did she leave the nest and when she did, Hal stood watch.

Saturday, after work, Kelly called me to the window and revealed the most amazing sight. Two beautiful baby birds had hatched that morning and their song they sang was wonderful.

 Meet Willow and Grace. Aren't they beauties?









Hal and Shallow both took turns all day long feeding the seemingly bottomless pits. One would stand watch while the other would dig up the worm. Team work. A single parental unit. They worked so well together and it was inspiring.

Today, they were wanting to fly. They were almost ready. Shallow had raised such independent children.

Yesterday, I wanted to be a bird. I wanted to soar on the breeze with my feathered friends and feel the wind beneath my wings pushing me up and pulling me down. I wanted to see what it was like in that nest with three birds. I wanted to hear the conversation between mother and father as they watched in awe over their young children. Yesterday would have been a perfect day.

Today, however, is not one of those days. Today I mourn. I mourn for my dear bird family. Man interfered with natures natural course. The perfect nest in the perfect tree now lays on the ground empty and cold. The tree that once sheltered this family is now gone and my window is quiet. And I mourn.

I went searching next door for my baby birds. We looked everywhere. Sadly, the contractor responsible informed me he had stepped on one and the other fled the scene.

With my baby in my arms, I watched as Hal returned to his missing home with a big fat worm hanging from his beak. He looked frantic. I cried. I did. I can't imagine returning home after a hard days work and finding my entire home and my children gone. Everything you have worked for.

I really don't understand why this hit me so hard. They are birds. I eat turkey in my sandwich almost every day. I mean realistically, I've probably eaten close to 10 whole turkeys in my life and I really could care less! But today. Today has been a rough one.

Tonight, I hold my baby a little tighter; a little longer; thankful that today I am not a bird.

Well Past My Bedtime...

Not much to write tonight. Well, I am sure there is plenty to write. I am just wanting to go to bed but I told myself I'm not allowed to go until I blogged. So here it is. The blog before bed.

I'll leave you with a few thoughts:

1. This television fast is proving to be one of the best things we have done for ourselves. We are talking more and enjoying each others company. Things are getting done around the house. We just feel better all around!! I highly recommend this for every family. Flip the switch!

2. I've officially enrolled in school for the fall. I don't know why I am so nervous but I am. Regardless, I have high hopes of a wonderful academic filled next 8 years of my life!! :)

3. I'm working tomorrow, Saturday. Come visit me at Colorado Coffee Merchants from 8-2!!

4. I am starting to observe that I over use the exclamation mark. I'll refrain from doing so at this point.

And for my final thought, “All the flowers of tomorrow are in the seeds of yesterday”. Plant wisely and prosper.

Goodnight, my dear friends.

Hi. My name is Kirsten

...and I'm a T.V.aholic. No, really. Let me break it down for you.


Mondays. Oh glorious Mondays. Mondays provide a good dose of CBS' "How I Met Your Mother" and the must see CBS' "The Big Bang Theory".


Tuesdays provide quite the entertainment with an episode of ABC's "Wipeout" along with an occasional viewing of FOX's "Hell's Kitchen".


Wednesday evenings are reserved for the tiny dancer within. "So You Think You Can Dance" on FOX makes me want get up and get down. It reignites that fire with in me every season. Perhaps I should stop watching and actually get off my butt and take a dance class or three...


Thursdays. Why do you have to be so cruel to me? Thursdays prove to be a difficult night for television. You see, at 8 o'clock, all battling for my attention are "Glee" on FOX, "Community" on NBC and another dose of "Wipeout" followed close behind by the results show of  "So You Think You Can Dance".


Fridays are old news filled with rerun after rerun.


And if that wasn't enough for you, for fun, let's just throw in a 1/2 hour a night of your local evening news, the World Cup and maybe a couple reruns.


Please excuse me while I step away from my writing for a few moments to throw up. Sick. You really should know that I really don't get around to each of these every week but if I could, I would.


Perhaps you are so disgusted with me that your reading has subsided by this point. But in the case you are the kind of person that looks even though it is disgusting and find yourself still reading this, you may be asking yourself, "How?" How do you manage to fit housework, a family, work and a dog into your boob-tube lifestyle? Allow me to explain...


1. The baby goes to sleep between 7 and 7:30 pm.
2. The dog just sleeps and barks at cats.
3. I work while I watch. I guess it's more for the background noise since I can't really watch T.V. and label bags at the same time.
4. Kelly and I bond over television. (No not really. That's just wrong. But we do watch together)
5. The housework just doesn't get done. You know the the song "Burning Down the House"? That song plays in my head and a grin creeps across my jawline. No, not really. In fact, Kelly and I were just discussing our lack of attention to detail around this place. Please continue to read...


We have found ourselves in a mess of a place. Not horrific but definitely not a relaxing home environment. Just messy. I decided we needed more discipline in our lives. At this point in our conversation, my stomach dropped to basement level and I felt sick as the words spewed out of my dirty little mouth, "Maybe we should do a T.V. fast?".  (you know, you always feel better after you throw up. I know. That's really gross. But it is true, isn't it?) As I wiped the remnants of those dirty words from my face, I felt free.
 

So, today on July 4th, as we celebrate our country's freedom, we have broken the chains and flipped the switch. We are free!!! Let the T.V. fast commence!! Well, all except the World Cup and our nightly news. Gotta start somewhere, right? 

5 Years and Counting...

If you were to ask me 10 years ago where I thought I'd be today, I would have told you that I would be married and have a baby. Done and done.

How do you know you are following God's plan? He gives you dreams and you find yourself living them. 5 years ago tomorrow, I married my best friend, Kelly Ryan Havskjold. I honestly cannot believe that it has already been that long.

Kelly, thank you. Thank you for loving me and my quirks. Thank you for the wonderful life that you have shared with me; for sharing your beautiful family; for our perfect son, Amaias; for allowing me the privilege to be a part of your life. I am so so lucky to have you as a husband and also as a father for Amaias.

You are so special to me and I look forward to the next 5 and the next and the next and the next......

I love you! Happy Anniversary.

Love,
Kirsten

I will call her "Shallow" and she will lay an egg...

Meet Shallow. She has made her home in a tree right outside my living room window. My little feathered friend. She sits there in the shade of her tree snuggled in her tidy nest. I keep poking my head out to watch her be and we catch each others eyes every now and again. A beautiful friendship in the making.

I know she is going to lay an egg. I just know it. And best believe, I will be watching her every move as she raises up her young. Naturally, she has so much I can learn from. She is the mistress of he domain. The ultimate care-giver. She has made a home to raise her young in that is secure, sanitary and is out of harms way. She will sit on that egg and keep watch until it hatches; she will gather food all day to feed her baby; she will teach the little one independence, good manor and grace.

Oh good little mama bird. Teach me your ways...

To Love...

I am what you would call a hopeless romantic. To the core. I love. I love everything. I melt at the sight of new love; of old love. I could watch chic-flicks or love stories for hours on end. I love flowers delivered to me; dinner by candle-light; sunsets; sunrises. Singing and dancing in the rain.  I love walking hand-in-hand with the one I love.

Life presents itself to me in the form of beauty. Everything is beautiful and lovely. Everything, that is, except running. Running is painful, tiring, dry out your lungs ridiculous and frankly, most people look pretty darn funny when doing it. But now that I have presented such a harsh statement, I must now ask myself a question.  Why am I finding myself falling in love with this disgusting sport? Maybe I can cough it up to being an addict. That's it; I'm just addicted to running. Although, the wind in my face is such a beautiful feeling. Exploring the radiant neighborhood we live in makes me feel more connected. That hour or two or three by myself allows me to dream...about flowers and date nights and little giggles from little babies and everything else that I love.

I run for time to dream. I run to create a healthier lifestyle and to create healthy habits. I run because God has given me two strong legs and a healthy set of lungs. Perhaps running is beautiful. Perhaps, I love running. I must be sick...

Patio ramblings...

Have you ever smelled a lilac? I mean really taken the time to stop and smell them. Their aroma is intoxicating. Sweet and subtle. My neighbors a few houses down the ally have a few beautiful full lilac bushes and when the sun and wind hit them just right, it almost takes my breath away.

Amaias is currently napping, Barley Biscuit is chilling on the patio with me and I am enjoying the warmth of the sun along with the complimenting breeze. The only thing that could make this moment a little brighter would be some company! But you can't come over. My house is a mess and I don't want to do anything about it. I just want to sit out here and enjoy the beauty that God has bestowed on me.

So, here I sit under our patio umbrella, trying not to get too much more sun. I over did it on Sunday. Just picture over done bacon. Or a leaf shriveled up by the sun. Or maybe a tomato in a boiling pot of water? I'm pretty darn close to all of the above. My skin must have shrunk a few sizes at least. It'd be nice if it were that way around the waistline but I don't think that is very feasible. What I have is the ultimate "Mom Sunburn". No joke. Let me explain...

On Sunday morning, we decided to venture out on our Sunday ritual walk. Our 5 mile or more walk. We left late morning while it was still a little cool out. I drenched Amaias in sunblock, loaded him in the jogger and we all headed out. We walked and walked. Pretty soon the sun was directly over head, beating down hard. I just didn't realize how hard until we returned home about two and a half or three hours later. Let me paint a picture for you. Stand up and position yourself as if you were pushing a stroller. Your arms should just about be at a 90 degree angle. Now, if the sun were directly over head, that would mean that your shoulders, neck and forearms would be exposed but your arm above your elbow is shadowed. SO, not only are just my shoulders and forearms scorched, I have nice white hand prints on my arms from where I wiped Amaias' left over sunscreen. There you have it. The ultimate Mom sunburn. I shall wear it like a badge of honor. A heavy, burning badge of honor.

Well, the dog has decided to go meet the trash-men and I suppose I should reel him back in.

I pray your day is full of a whimsical beauty. Wish you were here basking along with Barley and I.

Finally some time to myself. These moments are few and far between which makes them absolutely beautiful. My fingers are allowed to wander into parts of my heart I generally keep under lock and key.

Right now, my thoughts are fragrant. So much on my mind; on my heart. Where to begin.

After pulling an all-nighter and witnessing Amaias in his 4:30 AM "bounce-a-thon" I have found myself worn; blessed, but still worn. I have a load of laundry in the washer and the dryer, a load running in the dishwasher, a baby down for a nap, everyone has been fed and here I sit at 1:30 PM in my pjs. But it's ok to take a break, isn't it? I mean, I know I have responsibilities but I am learning that I need a break. My mind craves these quiet times. 

So, here is where I am at. My world has been some-what overwhelming lately. I've been in a funk and not the funky funk. Not that get down and boogy funk. It's the funk that smells; the kind you step in and you smell it for weeks. Yeah, you know what I'm talking about.  

Years ago I had a dream and lately it's really been heavy on my mind. In my dream I saw a farmers hands. I remember watching as he worked his soil over and over and over. There was pain. I don't know where it came from but I remember the sensation of pain. When I awoke, the one word that stuck in my mind was "Cultivate". I don't know much about farming but I do know that this is a very vigorous task. It takes place to break up the dry, hard soil in preparation for new growth. Much labor and care go into this refining process.

I feel it. I feel the pressure and the digging and the churning. When the baby wakes up screaming or when I ruin the nice dinner I was trying so hard to bless my husband with and when laundry is screaming for me, when I write last months date on all of the coffee bags I dated, when one of our vehicles breaks down and we are left with one car...I feel it.

It's painful when being broken but necessary in order to grow. Let me say it again, if not for your

benefit then for my own. It's painful when being broken but necessary in order to grow. And you know what the most frustrating thing is? This isn't an over-night cure. And it's not a one time cure. This is something I have to remind myself of. Farmers are continuously working their fields over. Continuously digging, and sowing. If they don't, their field become dry and lifeless.

I guess that's how I've felt lately. Spiritually dry and lifeless. You reap what you sow and I have done no sowing leaving me with what feels like nothing. I have invested all of my time, effort and energy in everything but my Abba. It's so easy to do yet somehow it's the hardest way to do it. 

So, here I am. I'm ready to live again. Cultivate, refine, cleanse, purify. Call it what you will. Break this soil and bring new life.

And there it is. The cool water saturating everything within. Washing me. Refreshing my mind, body and spirit.

Here comes the sun...

I can't believe it's been 6 1/2 months already. In about 7 hours we go in for Amaias' 6 month check up and his next round of vaccinations. God, please hold my heart for me so it doesn't break. I know it's routine. Needles are shoved into very active little legs every day. But those tears. Those sad eyes and huge rolly tears that make their debut only on such occasions. It's enough to shatter a tender heart.

The first time I ever witnessed said tears was at his 2 month check-up. Before that day, he could scream until he was red in the face, mouth wide open, eyes welded shut and all you could hear was that airy sound that was replacing his "death scream" as we like to call it. But no tears. A scratch on the nose from his fingernails; no tears. Barley dog sitting on him; no tears. My cell phone dropped on his poor face (the guilt still grabs my gut); no tears.

This particular day, Kelly had to work so I was left to take baby by myself in for this appointment. I made sure he was well fed, changed and ready to flirt. I prepared my heart with a quick prayer in petition for a smooth "Round 1" with no tears from mommy.

Enter our pediatrician and my failed attempt at being invincible #31,989. As the doctor listened to Amaias' heart, he kept letting out little "huh"s and "hmm"s. No actual words. After what I swear had to have been 3 days, maybe 4, he finally looked at me and informed me he was hearing a murmur. A possible Ventricular Septal Defect (VSD). He had me listen. It was such an odd feeling to be listening to my baby's heartbeat while actually looking at his little round face! So incredible to think that this same heart beat was the one that lived in me just weeks prior and here he was, sitting on my lap.

Doc could have been speaking Romanian for all I knew. I tried so hard to stay focused and remember everything he was telling me. But really all I heard was the teachers voice from Charlie Brown and something about it possibly being a small hole which is better than a larger one; possibly surgery or medication to mend it; a visit to the cardiologist to follow up. Next thing I knew, in rolled the nurse and her cart with the vaccinations.

I'm convinced that giving infants shots could be an Olympic sport. Such speed. Such precision. Such force. There; I said it. Wham, bam , thank you ma'am. Get 'er done. She was done in record time but to me time stood still. That smile on little man's face slowly turned down, his eyes welled up and down rolled the biggest, baddest, saddest crocodile tear I had seen.

There in the comfort of the monkey decorated doctors office, I lost it. I held my baby and his broken heart ever so close and I cried. We both cried. As small as it may be, it's still a hole. In the heart. Fear has no place in me. I won't allow it into the comfort of my heart or my home. But at that time, it was knocking; pounding.

Thank God for the internet. The first thing I did when we were home was GOOGLE those three letters, VSD. What I learned, in a nutshell, is that:
1. A ventricular septal defect (VSD) is a defect in the septum between the right and left ventricle (chamber). 
2. It's a more common occurrence than I realized.
3. The hole will not grow but the baby will. So the hole will become smaller over time as he outgrows it.

We followed up with a cardiologist and had an ultrasound done on his heart which revealed two holes. Both of them small and both common. He was placed on a medication to keep his heart from dilating but other than that we will keep following up with the cardiologist every few months to keep tabs on it. Most likely he won't be needing his medication after his next appointment.

So, needless to say, as much as I honestly do love these "well baby" check-ups, my stomach still takes a plunge before-hand. But I believe in a much higher power. I believe in a God much bigger than any ailment, sickness or disease. And in knowing this, I look forward with great anticipation for what tomorrows appointment has in store.

Here's to no more tears. Let's get this chunky monkey boy up on that scale already!!! Do I hear 19lbs??

This Magic Moment...

It's 12:51 in the afternoon and I can't catch a break. My house is a wreck. Order turned chaos and I want nothing to do with it. I would rather sit here by my lonesome and chill. But most of my fellow parents out there can relate, as my Grandmother would state, "This isn't Burger King and you can't always have it your way." For in the background I have a hungry tired baby, a hyperactive dog in dire need of a hard core run, a husband lacking my thinning attention and a house so ignited with mess that I'm almost certain one spark could send this sucker into space.

It's times like these that I have to take a moment for me and literally just do nothing at all. And in this exact moment that I have taken for myself, as I pass by the mountain in my laundry room, as Barley dog drops his ball at my feet; tail wagging in anticipation, as my baby looks at me with his crocodile tear filled eyes and my husband asks "What's for lunch", in this EXACT moment, I have come to the realization that there is no better feeling in the world than to feel wanted. Needed. Desired.

May your life be filled with such beautiful chaos.

Where to begin...

Finally. A place where thoughts meet the eye. Here I am. Here they are...