A photo album of Norman

This is Norman.

Norman likes to hide

He also likes to run on this wheel and apparently defecate while doing it. Why? I don't know. Maybe he runs so fast he can't hold it anymore but I am telling you, that wheel is crusted in pee and taped to the bottom of the cage so I can't take it out and clean it. I started wiping it and gave up. I don't know if I'll try again.

 

 

Not Bitten by the Baby Bug, Swarmed by it...

I know 23 people who, in the timeframe of December 2009 to December 2010, have had a baby. One had twins, so that's 24 babies. 24. Babies. I am surrounded. And mildly frightened. (This morning I came in to work to have my very pregnant coworker casually remark that she's having contractions and not to worry if she's breathing hard. WHA!?! Not worry?? I think she'll might rip my vocal cords out from sheer annoyance from me asking her "are you ok? how do you feel?")

Granted, most of these babies are casual friends, coworkers, acquaintences or far away so they don't have much impact on my life other than a zillion facebook pictures of ultrasounds and newborns (cute teensy toes! Love 'em!). In reality only three are directly in my path- my childhood friend Katie's little boy Carson, our friend's, the Massies, little girl Isla and now my coworker/friend Crystal's "little man" [insert name here] who will be crashing our girl's nights once he decides to enter this world. (Note: I decided to add pics later and "little man" decided to be born. Evan!)

Amanda and Isla (she's AUSTENtatious)

Katie and Carson

Crystal and Evan

It's a sincere pleasure to be able to cuddle and test the baby waters with these wondrous mini people but man-o-man are babies scary sometimes. So don't hold your breath for the Blumlings. I'm very content living vicariously through the babies around me at this time. Just throwing it out there.

Feelings of Fear

In a very revealing and honest article the authoress Anne Rice announced her renunciation of Christianity in a very gutsy and heart-wrenching move. The key phrase to notice is she renounced Christianity, not God. In her own words:

"For those who care, and I understand if you don't: Today I quit being a Christian. I'm out. I remain committed to Christ as always but not to being 'Christian' or to being part of Christianity. It's simply impossible for me to 'belong' to this quarrelsome, hostile, disputatious, and deservedly infamous group. For ten years, I've tried. I've failed. I'm an outsider. My conscience will allow nothing else."

I listened to the interview with tears in my eyes, completely understanding her feelings of confusion and grief. I feel the same way so often; anxious about labeling myself a Christian for fear that I will automatically change in people's eyes. That they will be afraid of my judgment. That they'll feel they have to hide themselves from me.

It's not the way it's meant to be, I know it's not, because it's not the way it was for Jesus. People flocked to him, followed him everywhere, especially the misfits. He gathered together the most unlikely group of confidants. Yet somehow, we seem to stray from that, not necessarily as individuals, but as a culture; Christians are known for hate, not love. What a tragedy.

I mention this especially because of the overturn of Prop 8. The conservatives are screeching in dismay, liberals are screaming with joy and the discord between the two sides are growing. Conservative Christians are standing in firm opposition and this is where my fear comes in- will this be another time of hate? Will people look at churches and Christians and will the first thing that comes to their mind be thoughts of hate?

[I sat on this post for a week or more, afraid to post it but today I was reading an article and reader's comments about the proposed mosque going up near ground zero and my heart sank. The most hateful sounding posts were coming from Christians. Again, reinforcement for people's belief that Christians are full of hate. Wonderful.]

I want to prod people to think- how can this be avoided? Fellow Christians, think carefully about the things you say, the comments you post, the blogs you write, the sermons you hear or repeat, the people you talk to. Who are you serving with this? a cause or God? is love motivating you?

I fear we, Christians, get too caught up in making stands, taking sides and winning fights. We worry about controlling the world and society. I'm worried about what those things do to us. How they can isolate us. Set us apart, but not in a good way- make us unapproachable. How can that be right?

It can't be, can it?

It's so easy to say and do things without thinking of the consequences. Find me 10 years ago and who knows what my stance would be. A lot more harsh. A lot more hateful. A lot more black and white (maybe the loss of that is bad, I don't know). Because I didn't have a face in my mind. But now, when I talk and think about gay rights, it's not a faceless mass anymore. It's people I love. It's people I don't want to hurt or see hurt by others. It's friends that I would never want to feel like they were not loved, welcomed and wanted in my life, because they are.

I could be wrong. I don't know what's right. And I doubt I'll ever be able to convince the vocal, "quarrelsome, hostile, disputatious, and deservedly infamous" Christians Anne Rice speaks of to quiet down and try simply loving the people around them. But I can love the people around me. I can hope that at least those people will be able to think to themselves "not all Christians are judgmental jerks." And if enough of us do this, maybe everyone will be able to think that. Maybe someday our quiet majority of people loving other people like Jesus did will start a tide of love that will quell all those burning feelings of hatred and hurt.

Dare to dream, right?

[There's a lot to be said on this topic but this post is getting too long. I'm happy to get feedback and questions from anyone if you feel confused or perplexed about what I'm trying to say.]

Adventures in Hedgiesitting

During the last week I have been hedgehog sitting for my co-worker while she is on vacation in Hawaii for two weeks. I felt a little obligated since I was the one who found the little guy for sale on craigslist in the first place and her boyfriend was really not keen on the prickly addition to the family. Plus, she is bringing me back some Kona coffee. Yum.

Included in Norman's belongings (a playpen, a ball for rolling around, gloves, food, treats, and cage with wheel, [UNUTILIZED] litter box, half log, house and water bottle) was a hedgehog care book which I perused. It was then that I discovered, to my great dismay, that hedgehogs should not be moved from home to home when sitting occurs. Oops.

I tried my best to make Norman very comfortable and cozy. In response, he hissed and defecated everywhere. I retaliated with hedgie treats, bits of carrot and some wet catfood. He ate them in the dead of night and hissed. I tried to hold him on my lap on a towel while I watched TV so we could get to know each other like the book said. He tried to run blindly off my lap (over the knees, onto the floor) over and over and hissed when I stopped him. And defecated. I tried putting him in his ball to roll around so that he could get exercise. He hissed and curled up, refusing to move. I put him in his playpen. He, yes, hissed and defecated.

Finally, we had a breakthrough. He ran around in his ball for about 15 minutes and seemed very pleased. He ate some carrot from my fingers. He had a jolly time rooting around in a towel in a bin looking for food. I thought, yes! we've made it! The next night I was ready for another evening of play and good times, maybe even being able to hold him without the gloves.

Nope. He acted like we had never met. Pooped more than I could believe could fit in his body. Was horrified that I had attempted to put him in his ball.

I give up.

Joe Blum is Awesome

My beloved husband's birthday is tomorrow and to my chagrin I'm not really getting to do anything great for him. We're going to Toronto to see Arcade Fire but he found the concert and got the tickets himself so I feel lame. So I am going to tell everyone a few reasons why I celebrate the birth of Joe Blum. And if you don't realize how awesome he is, shame on you. Go crawl inside a hollow log filled with beetles

1. Without Joe I would be a cat lady. We joke about this all the time but it's so true! I'm extremely reliant on him to get me out of the house doing things that I really want to do, but would be too uncomfortable or scared to do without that extra push. In my heart I'm still a shy, awkward person, but Joe combats this very well.
2. Best. Husband. Ever. I think the best thing is that he's just fun to hang out with. That's a pretty great quality in a lifelong companion.
3. Joe's one of the most sincere, kind and caring people I know. His first reaction is to like someone and be their friend. I have neither of those qualities so I admire him especially for that.
4. Funny! The first time I thought to myself, hey, there's something to this guy, was while watching a video in which Joe was lip-synching to Ace of Base's "I Saw the Sign" while dancing around campus. I tend to be a  little emo and too melancholy so that is some severely needed lightening in my life.
5. Hot. Ow ow!

Happy Birthday spouse!

My husband- the superhero.

A few important things

1. I'm obsessed with the hanging cherry tomato plant I got at the regional market. Obsessed. I talk to and stare at it every day. I danced around the house when the first tomato got an orange tinge. I'm not convinced it's a healthy obsession.

2. Today is beautiful and amazing. The first weekend we've been home in months and not had a million things to do. I finally got the last couple boxes unpacked, found my bandannas (two Ns?? Who knew!) (helpful since my hair is so short now), basked in the sunlight while I walked to the library and was able to get work done not in the middle of the night while slapping myself to stay awake. Work is much more pleasant when you aren't exhausted. 

3. This poem is amazing. Just stop reading now if you're not interested.

I read it here in you very word
in the story of the gestures
with which your hands cupped themselves
around our becoming - limiting, warm.


You said live out loud, and die you said lightly,
and over and over again you said be.


But before the first death came murder.
A fracture broke across the rings you'd ripened.
A screaming shattered the voices

that had just come together to speak you
to make of You a bridge
over the chasm of everything.

And what they have stammered ever since
are fragments
of your ancient name.

-Rilke

Some quick comments or my thoughts on that poem- maybe I just miss writing papers on amazing things I read.

It fills my mind with a burst of images. God's hands cupped warmly around my image as it's shaped from the dust. The singing that I imagined happened at the dawn of the world. The shrieks of grief and a lightening bolt of darkness as that first death shatters through a world fresh and brimming with life, love, hope. And now we're left with the fragment. Scared of the future, suffering at times, confronted with suffering often. And so the words are given to us- live loudly (to remind us, to point us in the right direction, to awaken us), die lightly (to soften it, to reassure us, to assuage our fear) and be over and over (because we forget too easily to be - alive, ourselves, in the moment).