Anticipatory Grief

I've struggled with anxiety and depression off and on for years. I remember when a counselor once told me I suffer from "anticipatory grief," that is, I get irrationally upset about things that haven't even happened yet. In high school, it was anxiety over handling my finances as an adult and other random adult things that I didn't yet know how to do and was afraid I'd never learn.

I don't think I've succumbed to such irrational fears lately, but last night I had a little episode that I'll have to blame on pregnancy hormones. We were watching The Sound of Music on TV, and I kept noticing how Gretl looks a lot like my friend's little sister did back when I first met her. The little sister was in first grade when I met her, but now is a sophomore in college. As I lamented to Matt how I couldn't believe time had passed so quickly and how old we'd all grown, he commented, "yep, before you know it, Kate will be a sophomore in college too."

At that, I looked down at my pregnant belly... and actually started to cry. "She's going to leave us!" I wailed. She's not even born yet! I'm still sitting on the egg and crying about my empty nest! Matt consoled me and we both laughed (me through the tears) at my silliness, as I vowed to enjoy every minute of this child's life.

The years will go by all too quickly, I know.

Growing

I remember a day months ago when my weekly e-mail from parents.com or babycenter.com informed me that baby was about the size of a pencil eraser. I got so excited and gave Matt a little pink eraser as a "gift" to share the excitement about our growing little one.


It's hard to believe, now she's the size of a honeydew melon--possibly over 5 pounds and almost ready to make her grand entrance into the world!
Our due date is one month from today. Pregnancy has been so exciting and all-consuming, it's quite the reality check to realize that sometime in the next 2 to 5 weeks, she'll actually be OUT, in our arms, and we'll start our life as a family of three!

Are you rich?

Looking up an example for a book I'm editing, I found the following interactive web site:
http://www.globalrichlist.com/

Give it a try. As the Wall Street Journal said, this site is "almost guaranteed to cheer you up" in the face of the current economic crisis. As we bombard one another with "stuff" this Christmas, let us keep in mind and seek to serve the 88%, 94%, 97%, 99%, etc. who live day to day with much less than we.

34 Weeks

I'm 34 weeks now (almost 35) and the bun in the oven is rising splendidly! We can't believe how close we're getting to her arrival. Since one is technically full term as of 37 weeks (Jan. 2 for us) the time is definitely coming soon. I'm hoping she'll be just a little early for her Jan. 23 due date, but we'll see. The important thing is a healthy baby, of course, but pushing out a little porker obviously sounds more painful than a more svelte baby. (For the record, I was born two weeks early and weighed just over 5 pounds. Matt was two weeks late and weighed over 8.)

The nursery is pretty much ready, we've got enough diapers on hand for at least the first few weeks, and we're just excited to meet our little Kate!

Here's a little sneak peak into her world (our second round of 3D ultrasound pics). That's the placenta up against her forehead, and the cord under her chin. She looks pretty cozy in there, don't you think?

Overheard

... in the kids books section of Borders today...

MOM: Honey, stop that. Stop that, please. Honey, whose birthday are we celebrating at Christmas?

KID: Baby Jesus.

MOM: Do you think Baby Jesus would be happy with you pulling books off the shelf like that?

[kid is quiet for a few seconds, then pulls another book off the shelf]

KID: Can we get this for Baby Jesus?

Things I love about the Birthday Boy

Today is Matt's 28th birthday. In honor of that fact, I'd like to share 28 things I love about this special man I am privileged to call my husband.


1. The way he makes me laugh when I'm down or upset... or any time, really.

2. His silly voices--Cookie Monster and Satan, especially.

3. What a great dad he's going to be.

4. What a great husband he already is.

5. The way his eyes look green or blue, depending on what he's wearing.

6. How he holds my hand or puts his hand on my knee while driving.

7. His big brain.

8. How good he looks in sweaters-over-shirts-with-sleeves-rolled-up (my favorite style on a man--see Exhibit A, above).

9. What a great preacher he is.

10. The way he helps others to think about and grow in relationship with God.

11. The way he cares about the people and issues Jesus cared about.

12. His patient and forgiving nature.

13. How attentive he is to my needs and wants (especially since I've been pregnant).

14. That he gave me this sweet baby that's kickboxing my belly button.

15. His ability to see the best in people and things.

16. His cooking.

17. The way his upper lip twitches involuntarily (mainly during allergy season, I think, but it's really cute).

18. When he throws his head back in laughter.

19. When he laughs at my jokes (even though I'm not so funny as him).

20. How sweet and affectionate he is with me, our cat, and our baby.

21. How low-maintenance and spontaneous he is.

22. His intentionality in sparking theological conversations (especially when my brain is constantly tuned to the baby channel)

23. His cute little tooshie.

24. The way he'll narrow his eyes at me in mock-irritation for mentioning his tooshie.

25. His love of travel, reading, and deep conversation.

26. That he watches Friends all the time with me, quoting lines and even doing the claps in the theme song.

27. How much fun we have together.

28. How he'll only get better with age.

I love you so much, sweetie. Have a wonderful birthday!

28 Weeks

I am now 28 weeks along, which theoretically should be 7 months, but is really just 6, because pregnancy is really 10 months, but they like to force it into a 9-month framework (???) Anyway, I have less than three months to go, now.

We start going to the doctor every two weeks now, and before long, it will be every week! I am measuring normally--my "uterus height" is 27.5 cm, and it's supposed to correspond to your number of weeks, so I'm just half a centimeter off, but that was Wednesday, before I officially reached 28 weeks today. Some people are telling me I look small, but I just haven't gained much weight, and my doctor says since I am tall and "have a deep pelvis," I'm just not going to stick out as far as some people. Baby Kate has plenty of room, in other words! Hooray for our little sweet pea!

Matryoshka

This is my (Jessica's) favorite of the 3D ultrasound pics. You can see Kate's precious little profile, and those legs that blocked her face during much of the ultrasound. (She's essentially sucking her knees in this pic, and those are her feet on the right edge of the image.) For those of you who've asked, yes, it is "definitely" a girl. I hesitate to say that without the quotes because I still fear we'll get thrown a curveball (or two :0) at birth, but two ultrasounds have now shown the telltale "three lines" that indicate girl parts, and the technicians were quite confident.

Baby Kate is about fifteen inches long now, weighs around two pounds, and recently has begun keeping her foot (or elbow, or something) up under my bottom rib. Our little girl has been kicking like crazy, doing somersaults in my belly, and I have to say it's the most amazing feeling ever. I can't believe I have a little person inside of me! What's even more amazing is that she has a million little proto-people inside her too, as she has more eggs now than she will ever have in her whole life! Microscopic halves of our grandchildren are already there, inside our daughter, before she has even been born. Generation upon generation are nested inside one another.


I have long loved all things Russian, and have a modest collection of matryoshkas--nesting dolls. Matt even proposed to me by putting the ring inside one of the innermost layers of a matryoshka. That one was painted with the story of the Ugly Duckling, and nowadays you see them decorated with faces of Communist leaders, U.S. presidents, Hollywood stars, or any number of other things, but the traditional design has each doll painted to look like a babushka (Russian grandmother) or other woman in traditional Eastern-European dress. The word matryoshka, in fact, is derived from the word for mother (mat). So here I am, less than three months from becoming a mother, and I am a matryoshka of sorts, nesting within me my child and even her children and beyond.

Ultrasound Comparison

  

We just had an ultrasound courtesy of the folks at Focused Imaging in Nashville. According to my (Matt) mother, the image of baby Kate's face looks like me as a newborn. I'm still hoping Kate looks like her mother, though.

October 14 - Our Anniversary

Today is our second wedding anniversary. We had Roundtable Pulpit tonight, so we didn't get to go out to dinner or anything, but have celebrated in little ways--exchanging cards, getting up early to enjoy waffles before work, and watching our wedding video while we ate a quick dinner at home. We reminisced about what a wonderful day it was, from the beautiful flowers, to our first dance, to our lovely suite at the Brown Hotel. To reminisce a bit more about that happy, happy day, I'm including a few of our favorite wedding pics below...

Below, you see Bishop Pennel performing our ceremony, and I want to reflect a little here on his homily, as it honestly means more now than when he originally delivered it. One of the scriptures for the service (and we did take care to make it a worship service, complete with hymns and eucharist) was Joshua 24:15, "Choose for yourselves this day who you will serve... but as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord." We asked Bishop Pennel to preach on what it means to serve God as a household (presuming that it means something different from serving God as individuals).

He said that serving God as a household means loving one another well. That sounds lovely, but I remember thinking that was a cop-out. Shouldn't it mean working as a couple for the betterment of society? Helping one another grow as disciples?

Through the ups and downs of the first couple years of marriage, though, I've come to see that he was right. Loving one another well is a prerequisite for any other good we can do in the world. Why is that? Because unhappiness breeds self-centeredness. When the relationship is struggling and one or both parties is unhappy, we cannot get outside ourselves enough to focus on others and the service to which God calls us. That's my experience, at least. While loving those closest to us is often harder than loving complete strangers, the health of that primary relationship provides a platform from which to love and serve God and neighbor.

This last one is a favorite of ours because, to us, it symbolizes how FUN our wedding was. All those empty chairs, everybody out on the dance floor, it was awesome! We had a great start, Baby, and the best is yet to come!

And the child lept in her womb...

Baby Kate (we are going on the assumption that it's a girl now) has been kicking a lot in the last couple weeks, and it is so thrilling. It's amazing to feel her moving around, to know she's there and that she's okay.

I've been thinking recently about the verse in Luke's birth narrative, when a knocked-up Mary goes to visit her cousin Elizabeth, who was pregnant with John the Baptist at the time. It says "when Elizabeth heard Mary's greeting, the child lept in her womb." When this passage is read aloud every Christmas, it seems so supernatural, as if it's totally unheard of for a child to leap within the womb and it couldn't be anything other than a great omen of messianic coming. Now, it seems so real, like a perfectly normal--if positively glorious and miraculous--occurance.

Nonetheless, it makes me think of how people are prone to ascribe significance to those most energetic kicks. I don't know if the timing of baby's kicks actually have any correlation to what's going on ouside the womb, but it's kind of fun to take stock of what I could know about my daughter's tastes if there is any validity to the theory. She likes...

• pumpkin spice lattes
• Daddy's preaching
• praise and worship music
• Mommy ignoring the alarm clock
• Disciple Bible study videos

and apparently...

• being blogged about :0)

Pastors and Country Stars

When our cruise ship got back to Mobile Monday morning, Matt turned his phone back on and found two voice mails and a text asking him about filming a Trace Adkins country music video at the church. How cool! I'm not a huge country music fan (I adopted a mildly positive "can't-beat-em-join-em" stance after moving to Nashville) but I love cool claims-to-fame like this.

So, Matt spent 18 hours yesterday (literally, 5am til after 11 pm) on the set of a music video shoot starring Trace Adkins and Stephen Baldwin. They filmed the plotline part and Trace singing his song inside and outside of the church, and down in the creek where Matt baptized several kids last spring. The song, Muddy Water, is apparently about a guy being baptized. Matt spent the day hanging out with the stars, the director, the extras, and everybody, helping out with production, and even demonstrating proper baptizing technique for the actor playing the pastor!

We're hoping this claim-to-fame will attract some attention for Bethlehem in the Clarksville area (the church is way off the beaten path, so most people don't just stumble upon it!) The Leaf-Chronicle came and did a story. Check it out here, and watch for us on CMT!

Homage to Howard Olds

I meant to write a post like this on the day of Dr. Olds' funeral, six weeks ago. I wanted to say how beloved he was to so many (Matt and I arrived at the funeral 45 minutes early and were still parking at the bank next door and sitting in the overflow room!) and include some excerpts from his last book--the one I was privileged to work on with him and Cal Turner.

Unfortunately, I never did write that post. Fortunately, the folks at Church Central (a great ministry resource website) did it for me. Check out the article, with book excerpts, here.

Another note about Howard's funeral I want to share doesn't have to do with Howard himself, but was a beautiful moment that I know he would appreciate. Matt and I were sitting in the overflow room, as I said, so unlike the thousand or more early birds who fit into Brentwood UMC's sanctuary, the couple hundred of us in the overflow room did not have access to hymnals. The service was shown on a screen, but they didn't show the words to the hymns on screen, so we were left to our own devices when it came time to sing. I honestly can't even remember what the first hymn was ("Be Thou My Vision," maybe, or "Amazing Grace"?) but all these Methodist pastors, congregants, and friends were still able to sing all four or five verses together at the top of their lungs. It really brought tears to my eyes. That was a true "body of Christ" moment, and I know Howard would have been touched as well.

Praise be to God.

So...it might be a girl

We had our 20-week ultrasound this afternoon. We'd been prepping "Baby Wes" for days, saying "ok, be sure to smile big, and show us your wee-wee." Because of the Intelligender test, we were fairly confident it would be a boy. After all, the site says the test is 90% accurate in lab tests. (Only 80% accurate in actual usage, but that's because of human error and we followed the directions to a T!) You'll recall how distressed I was when the pee turned green, since I had my heart set on a girl. Over the last two months, though, I've talked to Wesley every day, and looked at boy clothes for him, and even let my quest for neutral bedding veer slightly to the boy side. He was "my little guy," and I got kind of attached to (the idea of) him.

As the day of our "big" ultrasound approached, Matt and I talked about how we would feel if it turned out to be a girl. Matt--though ecstatic about a boy--said he would be totally fine either way. I--despite my earlier desire for a girl--knew that I would feel a little wierd about the gender "changing," even just in our minds.

We told our ultrasound technician about the Intelligender test, so she was looking extra-hard for a penis, too. She checked out all the other organs, took lots of measurements and snapshots (all very cool!) and kept going back to the groin area time and again, each time without announcing any conclusion. Matt and I are both totally untrained, obviously, but each time we got a clear shot of the area, it sure looked like a girl to us. No pee-pees here! Just some white lines in the crotch that looked very much like labia. Finally, she said "well, we can't say for sure, but it really looks like a girl to me." See her crotch, with the little white lines? (Picture baby sitting on the glass of a Xerox machine to get a sense of the angle.)

So, Matt and I don't know what to think! We trusted Intelligender, but it really looked like a girl on screen! Ultrasounds are more reliable, of course, if you see a penis than if you don't, because it could just be hiding (and s/he did keep her/his legs together a lot). We're confused now, since we really want to know "for sure"--we are the Internet generation after all, the age of easy-access information! Right now, I feel kind of how I did when Intelligender said it was a boy. I had trouble picturing myself with a boy, so I couldn't think of the baby as one gender or the other, and didn't know how to talk to him. So, we'll let you know if we start thinking of baby as "her" and "Baby Kate" or not, or if we just live in limbo, like they did in "the olden days." Either way, s/he's a cutie, huh?

In closing, I can't help but think of this gem from "Monty Python and the Meaning of Life"...

Woman who's just given birth: "Is it a boy or a girl?"

Doc: "It's a bit early to be assigning roles, don't you think?"

Five Whole Years

Matt and I met five years ago today. Five years ago right about now, in fact. We were at a salad supper in the refectory of Vanderbilt Divinity School, the first event of our new student orientation.

It was the day I moved to Nashville. I had graduated Furman in the spring, and after working my first summer at Passport, I moved into the Disciples House on 20th St., across from The Boundry (a very noisy neighbor, but a very swanky bar and nice place to spend an evening). Matt had just graduated Butler, returned to his hometown, and moved to an apartment on 18th Ave. As I loaded the car in my parents' driveway that morning, I said to them, "I could meet him today!" "Him," of course, was "the One." I'd been single my whole senior year of college (which was great!) but starting grad school in a new place, I was hoping to meet somebody special. Matt had just gotten out of a serious relationship just a few weeks earlier, and walked to the orientation event wondering, "who knows? Maybe I'll meet somebody special."

After we'd eaten and heard welcome speeches from the various deans, a people bingo game was started, so we could mix and mingle. After getting signatures in squares marked "Someone with a cat," "someone who speaks Spanish," etc., and getting five in a row (Bingo!) I was approached by a cute guy with a goatee. After introducing ourselves, Matt asked me to sign one of his bingo squares. I signed "someone who was a religion major in college," and then he asked if he could sign one of my squares. Sensing he was interested in me, I decided to turn on the sass. Showing him my five-in-a-row, I declared, "Sorry, I don't need you!" He was hooked. Our first date was six days later.

We knew each other a little over two years when we got engaged, and a little over three years when we got married--pretty standard, I'd say. Matt's parents had been married 4 1/2 years by the time they reached this milestone, but nonetheless, I find myself thinking "I'm married to and having a baby with someone I've only known five years?" It feels like such a short time! And yet, we knew we were a good match right from the start. I love you, baby--happy 5 years!

(neither of us had a digital camera at the time, so here's a pic from spring 2005, the earliest I could find!)

Belly Pics, months 3 and 4

Here's the belly at 13 weeks...

... and at 17 weeks (last night)

Ever since week 10, I've been saying "ooh, I think I'm starting to show!" and then there's really no change. It's been mostly in my head for the last month or more, I guess--though there are several pairs of pants I cannot wear without a rubber band connecting the button and button hole. I know I look just about the same in the above photos, but I think the bump is getting a little more undeniable (and un-suck-in-able) now. Someone last night actually said, "ooh, is that a little bump I see?" Albeit, the person knew I was pregnant (I'm definitely still in the zone where a stranger would fear offending me if s/he asked when I was due) but that's the first time someone has actually noticed a difference! I haven't gained any weight yet (which I am thankful for) but I'm glad to "look" a little more pregnant. I'm sure the thrill will pass when I'm lugging around a huge belly, so might as well celebrate it now.

And while we're celebrating, check out the precious contents of my belly, pictured at 12 weeks!

(The dumb guy at Kinko's who scanned it for me saved it as a PDF, so it's really poor quality. For seven bucks, we're going back to have him do it right. We'll re-upload when we get a better-quality version.)

The Pregnancy Stupids, and other side effects

Since buying my essential copy of What to Expect When You're Expecting just a few days after finding out we were pregnant, I've heard about the forgetfulness, clumsiness, and general flakiness that can strike pregnant women. I think it was Jenny McCarthy in Belly Laughs who called it "the pregnancy stupids." I read about women leaving their keys in the fridge and driving miles past their own houses.

I thought it couldn't happen to me.

Just in the past week or so, though, I've found myself moving my mouse around, looking to open some file on my computer at work, and I realize I have completely forgotten what I'm looking for. It's the cyber equivalent of going into a room to get something and...

What was I talking about?

There's also the general hormonal snippiness (not as bad as one might expect from me, though!) and a little bit of weepiness. I don't think I've cried at anything that I wouldn't have cried at before (except one day in a meeting with my boss, but he's very understanding, both of pregnant women and of general office stress) but I think I'm reacting more strongly to the things that ordinarily make me a little weepy. Rather than a single glistening tear, I'm bawling pathetically at song lyrics like John Mayer's "Daughters"...

Fathers, be good to your daughters.
Daughters will love like you do.
Girls become lovers, who turn into mothers.
So mothers, be good to your daughters, too.

...and Five for Fighting's "100 Years"...

15, there's still time for you
time to buy and time to lose
15, there's never a wish better than this
when you've only got a hundred years to live

Those always get me. But scratch my general rule. I'm watching "The Family Man" right now, with Nicholas Cage and Tea Leoni. It's a great movie, but it has never made me cry. It got me just now, though. It was the scene where Cage's character is showing his wife the Manhattan penthouse they have the chance to move into. He wants to recapture the life of luxury he lost. "I'm talking about us finally having a life that other people envy," he says. And his wife responds, "Oh, Jack. They already do envy us."

It's so beautiful! He learns that his wife and kids are the only things he really needs...

Here I go again!

A Word on Edwards

I was really sad to hear yesterday that the rumors and allegations about John Edwards' infidelity were true. I was a big fan during his primary run, loving his focus on issues of poverty and health care. It is definitely disappointing to see that he succumbed to the temptations of power as so many other politicians have.

I have to say, though, that it is refreshing to hear Edwards acknowledge flat-out what everyone already knows about public figures who can't keep it in their pants: that power and success, people's cheers and votes of confidence lead to a self-delusion that they are above the rules. Edwards humbly said that his campaigns for Senate, V.P., and this latest presidential primary "fed a self-focus, an egotism, a narcissism that leads you to believe you can do whatever you want. You're invincible. And there will be no consequences."

I've never heard a public figure caught in adultery actually acknowledge that it was self-centeredness (what I would say is the root of all sin) that caused him to stumble. While certainly disappointed in his actions, and bothered (but not surprised) that he lied months ago in efforts to keep his affair private even after he had come clean with Elizabeth, I am pleased with the humility and sincere remorse evident in his public confession yesterday.

While you may never hold public office again, John, please keep working for the causes you believe in. There is plenty of work left to do.

Prego Notes, week 16

• Nausea is theoretically easing up. Went a whole week without barfing. Celebrated that fact at breakfast with everyone our last morning in Virginia. Threw up entire Arby's lunch three hours later.
• Have gotten sick 3-4 times in the week since then, including once while behind the wheel. That was not fun.
• Still not showing much. I can tell a difference, but it's not enough to save me from workplace comments like "You still don't look the least bit pregnant. It's disgusting."
• Sent Matt to the grocery the other night for cashews and spreadable cheese. Otherwise, it's still all fruit, all the time. I haven't cooked a real dinner in weeks. Make that months.
• Matt has been absolutely awesome with the back rubs, foot rubs, and craving-fulfillment. I'm a very lucky girl.
• Heard heartbeat for the first time at this week's appointment. Expected "thump-thump," heard "whoosh, whoosh." Super cool.

Baby Wes is about 4 1/2 inches long now. We'll find out in a month if Intelligender was right (see this post), or if we've actually been causing gender confusion in poor Baby Kate. We've been delinquent about posting pictures recently, but we'll get the 12 week pics of me and of baby up soon. Thanks for everyone's well wishes--we're so excited for this sweet addition to our family!

08-08-08

I think it's pretty cool China chose to start the Olympics on 08-08-08, especially since 8 is a lucky number in their culture. But, August 8 (tomorrow) is also exciting for another reason.

200 Pomegranates and an Audience of One, an awesome book I've had the joy of acquiring and editing over the past year, officially publishes in just a couple weeks (Sept. 1) and is already building some great momentum. The author, Shawn Wood, is coordinating an Amazon Book Bomb for tomorrow, 08-08-08, which means that you should click RIGHT HERE any time tomorrow, check out the book, its reviews, and oh-so-importantly, buy the book! Amazon has already sold out of the first shipment they bought, so it may say "temporarily out of stock," but don't let that worry you--you'll get your order ASAP!

The book uses the biblical story of Huram of Tyre (see I Kings 7) as a vehicle to motivate readers to discover and cultivate their gifts, and to use them to serve others and honor God. Shawn has a very fresh, conversational style, and really bares it all when talking about struggles he and members of his family have gone through. It's very inspirational--but not in that fluffy, shallow way like books with clouds or flowers and girly writing on the cover. This book is for anyone who has ever wondered if what they do really matters, if they really have anything to contribute to the world. I'll ruin the ending by saying "you do!" but trust me, you'll be a lot more convinced once you read the book.

Notes from the Underbelly

• Ate half a container of lime sherbet last night. Felt queasy for an hour after. Would have had more willpower had it been Moose Tracks or something else fatty.
• Threw up at Rafferty's Saturday. Soonafter realized my belly button ring had fallen out. Waitress found the bottom part on bathroom floor, but top ball had come unscrewed and was lost. Am now less-cool prego-lady a few months earlier than anticipated.
• Watched with great interest as married-couple bloggers I read documented their 34-hour childbirth experience on Friday. Congrats Matthew and Jessica (yeah, that's right. They live in Nashville, too.) The child made his first video-blog appearance at only 30 minutes old.
• Felt queasy just now at work. Ate preggie-pop. Immediate relief.
• Back to work now. Just six months til maternity leave.

Phoebe Songs*

Are you in there, little fetus?
In nine months, will you come greet us?
I will buy you some Adidas...

--The One with the Embryos (1998)


They're tiny and chubby
and so sweet to touch.
But soon they'll grow up
and resent you so much.
And they're yelling at you
and you don't know why,
And you cry and you cry and you cry.
And you cry and you cry...

--The One with the Birth (1995)


*It's a Friends thing, if you don't already know that and just think I'm crazy.

Gestating is Hard Work

I thought I was out of the woods when I went three days without getting sick. Turns out, that was just Baby's first birthday present to Mommy. I do appreciate it, even though I was sick again this morning.

I took long naps Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. The rest is great, but reminds me what I'd rather be doing every afternoon. It has been really hard to get through the work day, this past month or so. The fatigue is actually getting better, though. I've discovered Cranergy, by Ocean Spray, and while it has a funny aftertaste, I'm thankful for the energy. I actually cooked dinner and stayed up til 11:00 last night. I even got on the elliptical machine. (I say "got on" because "worked out" might be overstating it, but even my menial effort at exercise was better than laying on the couch for the thirtieth night in a row.)

It's amazing how growing a tiny little human can take so much out of a person.

It's a Boy!!!

This morning we took the Intelligender test to determine the sex of our baby, and it turns out it's a boy! (Well, technically it's a 90% chance) I (Matt) am extremely excited to have a son, and while Jessica was hoping for a girl, she's excited, too. We recorded the moment we saw the test results, which you can check out below.

His name will be Wesley Matthew Kelley. And no, John Wesley is not the primary reason for the first name, although this is very Methodist of us! He'll go by "Wes". My (Matt) middle name is Lloyd, after my father, so we're continuing the family tradition. We'll have another ultrasound at 20 weeks (about 2 months from now), and we'll post the pictures then. Thanks to everyone who has been so supportive of us!

What's so great about boys (or girls)?

Matt and I are planning to take the Intelligender gender prediction test tomorrow morning. It's my 27th birthday gift to myself. The over-the-counter, urine-based test will tell us, with 90% accuracy, whether we are having a boy or a girl. As I've mentioned, the competition is fierce. Matt and I each have a strong preference, in the obvious directions. The poll Andrew created is showing girl 3:1, and several amateur clairvoyants have "feelings" in the female direction, but I'm thinking our chances are still 50:50.

So, with under 24 hours to go before "the big reveal," I want to know--what's so great about boys or girls? Other than loving them just because they're your child, why are you thankful to have a boy? Why do you love having a girl?

I really want to know! Please comment!

The Name Game

Matt and I had our boy and girl names picked out almost immediately, and we’ll most likely stick to them. (Stay tuned—we’re taking the Intelligender test on July 4!) Occasionally, however, other names flit through my mind before I realize they don’t make the best combinations with our last name.

For example:
Luke Kelley (Lou Kelley?)
Jake Kelley (Jay Kelley?)
Micah Kelley (Mike Kakelley?)
Melanie Kelley (Mellie Kelley?)
Stephen Kelley (Steve & Kelly?)
Grace Kelley (nice, but kind of a bad omen for our little princess)
Scarlett Kelley (is she red or green?)
Declan Kelley (even uber-Irish hubby thought that was going a bit too far. “Sounds like an IRA bomber,” he said.)

Plus, it’s very important we avoid gender-neutral names. I get called Kelley (or worse, Kelly) at least once a week. So does my sister-in-law. We find it very annoying. This is bound to happen for our daughters, assuming Kelly is still a popular girls name in the 2020s. I’d like to avoid that happening to our sons, however, and it seems that clearly-male names keep that from happening (so my husband and brother-in-law’s experience would tell me).

Same thing goes for surname-sounding first names. I remember poor Carson Lilly in my 6th grade class. Substitute teachers somehow just assumed there was a mistake on the roll and called him Lilly Carson. I wouldn’t want that to happen to poor Sullivan Kelley.

So, it’s a good thing our original names sound pretty good (in our opinion). I think they both sound like TV news correspondents, personally, but I promise we won’t send them to Future Broadcasters of America camp or anything…unless they show an aptitude for it…we do watch a lot of CNN in our house…

We're Pregnant!

For the past five weeks or so, Matt and I have been the most boring people ever. (And not just because I've been curling up on the couch the moment I get home from work every night and staying there, in and out of sleep, all evening.) No, it's because whenever people ask us a friendly "How's it going?" or "What's new?" we are forced to say, "Oh, not much. Same-old, same-old." Why? Because the big, neon answer in the forefront of our minds was not yet able to be shared!!

"Oh, not much new here... just a human growing inside me that is going to turn our whole world upside-down!!"

That's also why I haven't posted much recently. What can I say of any interest or importance right now?? Now that we're in our third month, though, and have seen our little bundle of joy on screen, we're spreading the news--there's going to be a Parsonage Family Baby!

We don't know much about Baby Fetus (doesn't have the nice ring Baby Blastocyst and Baby Embryo had... we need a new nickname) but s/he is a couple centimeters long, has a nice heartbeat, two hemispheres to the brain, and cute little mini-limbs. S/he really likes grapefruit juice (if my experience thus far is any indication) and appears to have a tiny bagel with cream cheese already close at hand. (We think that round thing at its feet is actually the cord.)

We shared the news with the grandparents-to-be last weekend at a father's day cookout, and have told work and church people this past week. We've been asked all the normal questions, which I'll answer here for you, since if you care enough to read this blog, you might be interested in knowing too.

When are you due? January 23, 2009. We're hoping for Inauguration Day (the 20th), since that would be a fun claim-to-fame for our kid to have (assuming this election goes as we hope!) and it would give us something interesting to watch on TV while we're sitting around, waiting to dilate. Matt was born during the season premiere of Dallas when everyone found out who shot J.R. Anyway, this means we're ten weeks along, getting close to the end of the first trimester.

How are you feeling? Pretty sick and tired, recently. I was fine until week 6 or 7, but the nausea and fatigue have been pretty frustrating for these last couple weeks. Supposedly, that ends by the end of the first trimester for most people, so we'll see. Emotionally, we're starting to move from excitement to the "holy crap" phase, but we're still excited too.

Do you plan to keep working? Yes. I gave my bosses a detailed plan for how I will keep all those plates-on-sticks spinning through maternity leave and beyond. I think they were impressed, though they chuckled a bit at my thoroughness. I've always been a bit of a planning dork.

Are you hoping for a boy or a girl? Matt really wants a boy. I really want a girl. Obviously, both of us really just want a healthy baby, but there is a level of competitiveness about the issue that makes us even more entrenched in our preferences! Matt's brother, the family gambler, has set up a webpage where people can vote their prediction. (Practically everyone I know who has had a baby in the last year and a half has had a boy. I'm hoping the law of random distribution means our corner of the world is due for a girl.) One typically finds out via ultrasound at 20 weeks (early September, for us), but believe it or not, there is actually an over-the-counter urine-based gender test you can do at home at 10 weeks. We're going to wait another week or two, just for good measure, but that will be pretty exciting!

We'll keep you posted!

From Anonymity to Accountability

I'm editing a book right now called God-Size Your Church: Beyond Growth for Growth's Sake, by John Jackson, pastor of Carson Valley Christian Center in Nevada. (It's in Minden, NV, near Carson City. I wish it were near Las Vegas, because I think it would be awesome to do a book called "The Church in Sin City.")

Jackson talks about the importance of providing a spectrum of involvement that allows people to move from newbie status to core member at their own pace and comfort level. True to his Baptist background, the four primary stages have a lovely alliteration: Anonymity, Affinity, Authenticity, and Accountability. I totally agree with these stages.

• Anonymity. As evidenced in my "Playing Hooky" post a couple weeks ago, even people well-ensconced in a church sometimes feel the need to worship anonymously. That is all the more true for people unfamilar with the church, its practices, and its people. They need to get acclimated while feeling welcomed but not pressured to "sign their life away" too quickly.
• Affinity. Most churchgoers in America have no idea what makes their denomination different from any other, or what their church believes about every tiny point of doctrine. People become part of a church because they feel they connect to that congregation on a personal level. They have something in common with others there, and find classes or activities where they can explore common interests.
• Authenticity. This is the lynch pin when it comes to increasing commitment to the church. Answering questions like "Are you who you seem to be?" and "Can I be myself here?" pave the way for a person's desire to be a full participant in the life and ministry of the church.
• Accountability. This is the stage where people really commit to give of themselves in ministry, serving regularly and participating fully, rather than simply consuming of the church's ministries.

While this kind of "accountable" involvement and commitment may be the goal for any person growing in faith, the church will never, and arguably should never, consist solely of these people. Mark Beeson, pastor of Granger Community Church in northern Indiana, wrote a great blog post on that subject a couple months ago. Quite the outdoorsman, his thoughts on spirituality and ministry are often inspired by nature. In this entry, he talked about a wild turkey he saw, with a really long, red beard and very full set of feathers, all fanned out. (We see these guys all the time in our yard right now--very cool.) He said how he immediately realized that this turkey was a mature male, ready to mate, and commented how pretty soon there would be a bunch of immature, baby turkeys running around. He then pointed out how the church should be the same way: wherever there are mature Christians, there will be young, new Christians as well, because the more committed people of faith will attract and reach out to those who are searching. A group of mature animals or people who do not have immature ones around them... are old and dying.

Many churches today seem to exist only to sustain themselves. They stay open even when there are only a handful of members left, just because those people don't want to go to a different church. Their programs are more like a community center than a house of worship and a home-base for ministry to others. Embracing all stages of involvement in the church does not mean you are condoning "consumer Christianity" or that you don't care about discipleship--it means that you are outward-focused, that (like the United Methodist mission statement says) you are "making disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world," not for the perpetuation of an institution.

Practical Joke Sunday

I had a wide range of emotions in church yesterday--I screamed, I cried, I laughed. The crying was due to the reading of Shel Silverstein's The Giving Tree in the children's sermon. I know it's supposed to be sweet, and the tree is "happy, very happy" in the end, but I find it to be the saddest story ever. The screaming and the laughing, however, were due to a couple practical jokes before and during the service--one at my expense, the other perpetrated by Matt and I.

As Matt and I drove into the church's gravel parking lot, Matt noticed a snake stretched across the drive, and he thought he ran over it, which made me happy (I don't condone killing any living thing, except snakes--even bugs I usually let live) but after we parked, we took a look--me from a greater distance than Matt--and it had apparently coiled up really quickly and avoided being killed. Matt expressed curiosity at what kind of snake it might be--two inches in diameter, light brown--but I just got inside as quickly as I could.

A minute or two later, I've settled in at the Sunday school table with my coffee and fruit (and small piece of coffee cake). My back was to the door of the room, and suddenly I feel pressure on the back of my neck, and a high school boy whose voice I recognize says "Jessica, do you know what kind of snake this is?" I screamed bloody murder, of course, smacking at the back of my neck. The boy, his buddy, and the dear, righteous pastor--who of course had put them up to it--got a good laugh out of it, though most of the women in the room totally sympathized with me. Though it was just the kid's hand, not the actual snake (I would hope that goes without saying, since that would be FAR beyond a joke) I was nearly in tears from the shock. The two boys now tease me whenever they see me. Fabulous.

After worship started and after I dried up from the Giving Tree incident, I had my own joke to play. Matt has been teasing one young adult girl in the congregation about her frequent text-messaging during worship, obviously enough that he can see it from the pulpit, and finally we decided we should send her a message--literally. On Matt's phone, before the service, we typed "I can see you." and kept it ready to send until the proper time. I had the phone with me in the pew, and about five minutes into Matt's sermon--after I'd noticed the girl's head bent downward a few times--I pressed send. I tried to contain my giggles, revealing only a smirk that would have made Matt start laughing if we'd made eye contact at that point.

A couple minutes later, I received a message back, asking "Is this Jesus?"

OMG. We'll see next week if her habits change, now that Jesus--or at least the pastor and his wife--are watching her.

Playing Hooky

I played hooky from our church last Sunday.

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Whether it's reasonable or not, I have lots of issues with this pastor's wife concept (that I totally saw through rose colored glasses before we were married). I have issues that I don't get to choose where I worship, (or where I live, but that's a whole other issue) and that I can't just be a "normal" congregant (a divinity school education generally screws up one's possibilities of being a normal congregant anyway, but again, that's a whole other issue). No matter how much my involvement matches other congregants' on paper, there will always be something different about me, and that is that I come and go with the pastor.

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I am not a permanent fixture in this church. I did not start attending at the invitation of a friend or because of a flyer in the mail. I did not attend for months or years before deciding to become a member--I joined somewhat by default on my very first Sunday there. This feels especially odd in retrospect (enough that I may think twice about joining right away at our next church) because Matt is not a member of this church. Pastors in the UMC are members of their conference, not the local congregation, further enhancing the bizarre limbo status of the pastor's spouse as "in but not of" the congregation. I am a member and go to Sunday school and sit in the pews like other congregants, but I am "in bed" with the pastor--figuratively and literally--and know the inner workings of the church, the struggles of its people, and the thoughts and dreams of my husband that his parishioners do not know. I am reminded that he and I are a separate entity from the congregation, and that we are something of a commodity, one day moving on to be in but not of a different congregation.

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I didn't intend to share all that, but I'm glad I did. It's rare that I can talk about it calmly and rationally. I didn't play hooky out of anger or anything last weekend, though. It was the church retreat, and about a quarter of the usual Sunday attendance was gone on that. Matt went for one of the two nights, coming back Saturday night so he could lead worship on Sunday. It seemed the perfect opportunity to inconspicuously take a Sunday off--those on the retreat would think I was at church, and those at church would think I was on the retreat.

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Before I sound too snarky and irreverent here, though, let me clarify that I didn't just lay around in my jammies and watch Meet the Press. I went to an Episcopal church instead. This is actually the story I intended to tell in this post. It happened to be baptism and confirmation Sunday, which worried me at first, remembering a time I almost passed out from standing too long during a marathon baptism at my Episcopal church in college. These didn't drag on too long, though, and I was reminded of a great realization I had several years ago, during the college and post-college church-hopping phase so many people experience (if they go to church at all during those years, that is).

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As I bounced around to various Baptist, non-denom, Episcopal, Disciples, and yes, even a couple Methodist churches across Kentucky, South Carolina, North Carolina, and Tennessee, I witnessed A LOT of baptisms and baby dedications. I just had a knack for being there when these things happened, even at churches I visited only once. In many of the churches, the congregation vows to help nurture the person in the Christian faith, and though I rarely knew the people being baptised, I repeated this vow as well. At first, it was rote, simply because that was what those in attendance were to do. After a while, though, I began to see these experiences in an "angels unawares" sort of way--wherever I go, there is some small chance that any person I meet could be one of those people I vowed to support in the faith.

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What might this mean? In the words of the Apostle Paul, it could mean not placing a "stumbling block" in front of others that would somehow rock their faith. In the words of my most admired college professor, if might mean working for a world in which it is "easier to be good." (The idea being that the more we bring the kindgom of God to earth, the more natural it will feel to be righteous.) Any other ideas, feel free to comment with them.

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I left the Episcopal service liking our own church not more or less, but with a renewed appreciation of the church at large and our role within it. I may only be "in" our local congregation, but I am "of" Christ's church, no matter what.

Bourbon, Brides, and Boats

Okay, there was just one bride and one boat. Anyway, the first two Saturdays in May have been lots of fun.

The first Saturday in May... (I shouldn't even have to explain the significance of that day, but I will, since not everyone reading had the good fortune to be born and raised in Louisville)... was Derby Day. I've only attended the great race in person once, but it is nonetheless a special day every year--an incredible cultural event, in addition to being the greatest two minutes in sports. In Louisville, kids get out of school on Oaks Day (the day before the Derby), and the whole city is enveloped in red roses, mint juleps, horse paraphernalia, and general festivity for the two weeks preceding.

Every year since graduating high school, I've thought about getting a group together to go, but such a road trip has never materialized. I've had Derby parties a couple times--the most successful being my senior year of college--and I tried to do the same this year. Unfortunately, I wasn't really on the ball (May kind of crept up on me--April was very busy) and didn't get around to inviting people until the day before, and no one could make it. Matt and I still grilled out, though, and had a great day of fun and relaxation. I made mint juleps, which are notoriously yucky (just bourbon, sugar, water, and mint), but you have to drink them on Derby Day; it's like a law... well, a tradition, anyway.

Charlotte was intrigued by the little stuffed horse that neighs when you squeeze its haunches.

Yesterday, the second Saturday in May, we were in Louisville for my second cousin's wedding. It was a lovely little affair at the picturesque Duncan Memorial Chapel, with reception on a boat that cruised up the Ohio while we enjoyed a nice dinner, cake, and mingling with family and friends.

Speaking of family and friends, we discovered what a small world it is when Matt and the girl sitting behind us in the chapel recognized each other! They went to college together at Butler Univ., graduating the same year and interacting a lot in greek events throughout their four years in Indy. Turns out, her husband is the stepson of my Dad's cousin (the bride's aunt). Cool. Small world even smaller, my dad had met the girl under totally separate circumstances when he was working with the Ky. commerce cabinet. Recognizing her unusual last name, he had made the family connection, but of course had no idea she knew Matt.

Here's me with the bride, and a few other pics of the wedding and dinner cruise.

My Two Angels

These are my two angels. They bring immense joy to my heart. They are two of God's greatest blessings in my life and I am thankful everyday for the love and laughter they bring.

Husband Trivia

Saw this on my freshman-year college roommate's blog and thought it would be fun...

Where did you meet? At a salad supper the first night of Divinity School orientation at Vanderbilt, August 24, 2003.
What first attracted you to him? He was sooooo obviously attracted to me! I was flattered by that, and then, over the next week or so, was just blown away by all we had in common.

How long did you date? We dated for about six weeks when we first met, then stopped dating for about 4-5 months, in which time we became best friends. When we got engaged, we'd known each other for about two years and two months, and had been "officially" dating for about a year and eight months.

Who eats more? Definitely me. I wolf down my dinner before he's taken two bites, and he rarely cleans his plate.
Who said “I love you” first? I did, but he was literally just about to say it too. His response was, "Damn, you beat me to it! I love you too." We were in his car, driving down 3rd Street after leaving the Div School Gala, March 20, 2004.
Where was your first date? The Opryland Hotel, Ristorante Volare. We had to wait a while for our table, during which time we sat on a bench near a gazebo and talked. I say it was during that bench-conversation that I really fell for him.
Who is taller? If we're both barefooted, he might be a tiny bit taller. I like heels, though. I take off my shoes and bend my knees for pictures.
Who sings better? Eh... we're both a little above average, I guess. We're no American Idols, but it won't hurt your ears, either.
Who is smarter? We're both pretty smart. I had a higher GPA in both college and grad school, but he got a full ride to Vandy and I only got 90%. He likes to throw that in my face. Really, I'm better with logical things, like puzzles and other things that show up on IQ tests, and wordy things, like spelling and pronunciation, whereas he's more abstract and philosophical.
Whose temper is worse? Definitely mine. I'm tempted to elaborate, but I'd rather not share the gory details.
Who sleeps on the right side of the bed? I do. I'm trying to assess a rhyme or reason to that, based on other rooms I've slept in. I think I try to sleep on the side furthest from the door (safer from home intruders?) unless the bed is right against the wall, in which case, I'll sleep on the outside (easier to escape in case of fire?) Hmm...who's the neurotic and paranoid one? Me!
Who pays the bills? I do. I'm more the planner, so I think about things like, "okay, we get paid these days, so we should pay the credit card bill this day..." and so on.
Who cooks dinner? We share the cooking duties. Matt cooks a lot, since he has a more flexible schedule and often likes to get the meal started before I get home. We enjoy cooking together sometimes too--especially Italian, our favorite!
Who drives when you are together? Usually Matt, but since I got my new car, I like to!
Who is more stubborn? That's a tough one. We're both pretty hardheaded.
Who kissed who first? It was pretty much your traditional eye-contact, move toward each other thing...pretty mutual. He apparently wanted to at the end of our first date, though, and chickened out, whereas I had no intention of kissing that night! (We kissed the next night, though, after sushi.)
Who is the first to admit when they are wrong? Wow--Jen's making me feel so bad, as I go in and replace her answers with mine. She's such a saint. As I said, Matt and I are both pretty hardheaded, but we'll say "I'm sorry" the next morning, at the very latest.
Whose parents do you see the most? Matt's, since they are also in the Nashville area. It's still not that often, though. I'd say we see his parents once a month and mine every other month. (Not often enough :0(
Who proposed? "Mr. Eloquent" did :0)
Who is more sensitive? Me, though I'm getting more cynical in my old age...
What's his best physical attribute? His cute little butt is the first thing to come to mind, but I like his crystal clear eyes too (pale blue or green, depending on his shirt), and his manly facial hair.
Who has more friends? Him. That's partially because he counts as a friend anyone he hangs out with at a party, went to school with four years ago, or met one time at a conference. I, on the other hand, only really consider friends those people I talk with on the phone regularly, hang out with regularly, would travel several hours to go see, and/or would have a real heart-to-heart with. So, fewer people make the cut, you know?
For what are you most proud of him? His preaching, and his ever-loving heart. He always sees the best in people, and does a much more faithful job than I of really living out his ideals. He rarely lets selfish or petty feelings and biases get in the way of what he knows is right, as I so often do.
What is something special your husband recently did for you? He came with me to Target on Saturday, then rode rides with me at a little fair set up in the mall parking lot, bought me a book I wanted at Borders (so what if it's a joint bank account, it's still sweet) and took me to a movie. We had a blast!

I love you, sweetie!

Love me a latte

I love Starbucks. That seems a silly thing to say, since obviously a lot of people do--it's more notable (or at least more chic) for someone to say they don't like Starbucks. I do consider myself a true fan, though, even buying those Christmas ornaments they offered that look like Starbucks to-go cups. The fact that they designed and sold those things blew me away, given the brand loyalty a company has to assume to try that move. You don't even see McDonalds selling golden arch Christmas ornaments...

People make fun of the chain's ubiquity, and I enjoy a good laugh at that fact too. I love how it's spoofed in Shrek 2, with the two "Farbucks" shops right across the street from one another. When Matt and I were in NYC a couple weeks ago, we literally saw two Starbuckses 100 yards from each other in Penn Station. (Maybe that's a good marketing strategy--you're tempted by the first one but keep walking, then you see the second one just as your willpower is breaking down.)

People like to patronize local establishments, and I appreciate that concept as well, from a social and economic perspective. There are plenty of local coffeeshops whose ambiance I enjoy and that I'll go to if I'm in the area. Still, I was a little annoyed with the clerk (should she be called a barista?) who got annoyed with me when I once ordered a "tall caramel macchiatto" at the Frothy Monkey, only to be told, "This isn't Starbucks. We have a small caramel latte, if you'd like that." So I've heard, a macchiatto and a latte aren't the same thing, but since I couldn't tell you the difference, I'll let that one slide.

You can call me a sell-out if you want, but I like the fact that there's a coffeeshop I can frequent where--while everyone may not know my name--everyone will know exactly what I mean when I order my "grande non-fat toffee-nut latte," and I'll know exactly what I'm going to get. I've never been big on change (Matt can tell you about my out-of-body experience when he rearranged the appliances on our kitchen counter), so I like the fact that Starbucks is the same no matter where you go, never more than now, when I live in a town I would never choose to live in of my own accord. There's something comforting in knowing that I can walk into one of the two Starbucks here in little-ole-Clarksville, and it will look and feel the same as a Starbucks in Nashville or a Starbucks in Manhattan.

I doubt that in Manhattan I'd be able to see seven fast food restaurants, a mud-spattered pick-up, and a guy in too-tight overalls when I look out the window, but nonetheless, I can smile, sip my latte, and breathe an espresso-scented sigh of contentment.

Most productive day EVER, part 2

My self-fulfilling prophecy has fulfilled itself indeed (as self-fulfilling prophecies tend to do). I got through eleven weeks worth of daily devotions for a year-long devotional book I'm editing. That's a lot of devotions, and I definitely found that my grand declaration this morning gave me the drive to just keep doing another week, even when I was ready to shift gears, then another, then another. Plus, I did a lot of planning work for the quarterly ministry magazine I now edit as well.

I think I'll try this kind of motivational self-talk every day. Maybe this can be a service I provide--"Feeling sluggish? I'll prophesy you a productive day!" (Just kidding.)

Going to trivia tonight. Our team of Div school friends, "Onan, Spiller of Seed," has dominated the Vandy-area pub trivia scene for about 2 1/2 years now, but we've recently slacked off, what with the closing of our primary sports bar. Anyway, we've found a new court to play in, and we will hopefully have a grand--and productive--showing tonight!

Most productive day EVER, part 1

I'm not saying it's true for everyone, but I've found that whatever my attitude in the morning, it will hold true all day. If I declare "It's a great day!," it will be a great day. If I say "I feel blah," chances are, I will feel blah all day.

Today, after working out before work for the third day in a row (thus boosting my confidence in my own willpower and reducing feelings of guilt in the evenings) and discovering I'd lost a few pounds since last week, I have decided that today will be the most productive day EVER.

So, I'll report back this evening and we'll see how it goes. Now, off to work. I need to stop for gas on the way, but that's a pretty productive act in itself, since my new car gets 32 miles per gallon; 400 miles per tank! (a good thing when I put 500 miles a week on my car)

Have a great day!

All Shook Up

I woke up at 4:37 this morning with the bed vibrating and something rattling on the dresser.
"What's that?" I said.
"Just the wind," Matt mumbled.
"I think it's an earthquake," I said. "Why would things inside be shaking if it was just the wind?"

Matt didn't really respond, and it went away pretty quickly (I think it took me a while to come to, so I missed most of it) so I had kind of a "huh--that's interesting" reaction and went back to sleep. I had a dream sometime between then and 5:50, in which I told someone what had happened, but concluded it wasn't really anything.

After I hit "snooze" a couple times, I woke up at 6:10 to some song with the word "shaking" in the chorus (not Elvis, not Twist & Shout, I just can't remember), and then the deejay came on and made some cheesy connection between the song and the fact that we'd had an earthquake overnight. "Huh--so that was real."

Anyway, all that to say, we experienced an earthquake this morning! The epicenter was in southern Illinois, and they say the 5.4 quake was felt from Minnesota on down to Alabama. I kind of wish it had been during waking hours so I would have a better recollection of what it was like, but that's a silly thing to wish. The New Madrid Fault has been overdue for a "big one" for a while, so I really should not wish to experience another!

It's a nice conversation piece, though. Kind of like my stint as an undercover underage alcohol buyer for the Greenville County police in college. But that's another story...

More Philly/NYC/Princeton Pics

This parsonage, we'll take...

Just kidding. We thought this church and large house-ish building near Battery Park was pretty amusing, though. We had a great time in New York City this past weekend! We stayed with our brother and sister-in-law, Andrew and Alexis, in New Jersey (here they are in Philly, where we spent Friday afternoon and evening--Camden, NJ in the background there, across the river).

Saturday, Matt and I took the hour-long train ride into Manhattan. I wanted to get there early enough to stand outside the Today show and wave like an idiot. We arrived in Rockefellar Plaza about a minute after they went off the air. Matt was quite relieved. We got coffee at Dean & Deluca and poked around Midtown for a while. I want to live there! Not that we could afford that, but it would be totally awesome. I could work here:
We then mosied our way down through Greenwich Village and had lunch in Soho, then went further downtown to see Ground Zero and hang out at Battery Park and at the South Street Seaport. We had both been to NYC before and done the touristy things, so we really just enjoyed taking our time and soaking up the culture of each neighborhood.

My desire to live in Manhattan diminished after hanging out on the southern end for a while. It may have partially been the fact that it got overcast at that part of the day and the financial district was pretty deserted since it was Saturday, but that whole area just felt kind of depressing, and we wondered if it was still a kind of 9/11 malaise hanging over that area. People seemed to walk slower in the streets surrounding Ground Zero, and the whole energy of the city seemed to change.

Our main reason for taking this trip was to see Rent on Broadway before it leaves later this year. So, after a tasty Italian dinner in the Village, we hurried up to 41st St. to see Rent on its home turf, the Nederlander Theatre. The show was fabulous, of course. My dream of running into Anthony Rapp did not come true, but I still got to have my picture with him! We took some pics of the cool graffiti outside the Nederlander. I think I'll put those in a separate post (or maybe if Matt reads this, he can do it? pretty please, sweetie?)
We didn't get back to our lodgings in Jersey til about 2am, and I don't think I've ever hit the hay (or an air mattress) so hard. We then spent Sunday walking around Princeton, where Andrew is in grad school. It is such a pretty campus and neat little town. Here's Matt with one of the most famous Phi Psi brothers of all--Woodrow Wilson--president of Princeton before he became U.S. president. If you look closely at WW's signature, you'll see the mysterious three dots after his name. That's one of Phi Psi's silly secret things. Thank you, baby, for breaking that tradition on our marriage license, at least! And thanks for an awesome weekend getaway!