{ Snippets from our Washington coast vacation ~ June }

:: the view from the deck of our rental house ::

:: another view from the deck ::

:: Seabrook, two miles from where we stayed ::

:: "family portrait" ::

:: Mr. and I spent hours reading on the deck...amazing ::

{ #Blessed }

I never want to forget:

 

How blessed I am.

 

That this is my view.

 

 

That my baby girl is healthy.

 

That she didn't spend the first few months of her life in the hospital.

 

That she had a record-breaking short hospital stay and lightning-fast recovery.

 

That her life, and mine, could have looked anything but "normal."

 

Even the nights when I feel like she will never.fall.asleep...I have a healthy baby crying lustily in her own crib. She's alive. She's strong. Her lungs and diaphragm are clearly in perfect working order. I am so, so blessed to have a baby at home who would rather stay awake and play with me than sleep--even if she cries and doesn't fall asleep for hours. She could be hospitalized. She could need major help breathing. She could have significant lung problems. She could have long-term digestive tract problems.

 

She doesn't.

 

She could still be living at Children's Hospital.

 

She isn't.

 

Today was sunny and mild, so we walked up and down the beach. She was mesmerized by the waves. She was unimpressed with the ferry. She stared at little boys feeding stale bread to noisy seagulls. She licked the Ergo nonstop.

 

May I never lose sight of the incredible, innumerable gifts we've been given.

May I never take a moment with this precious girl for granted.

May I never forget what could have been.

 

Thank you, Jesus, for what is. We don't deserve it.

{ In Which There is Emotional Turmoil }

Random thought of the week, while snapping photos of Lainie at the beach: If I had a smartphone with a data plan and stuff, I bet I'd blog a lot more. I could just take pictures with my phone and upload them to my blog. None of this "create folder on computer, find download cable, find camera, download photos from camera, edit photos in Picasa, upload to blog, write cute post" business. I was as shocked to hear myself think that as you are to read it, Mike.

 

~*~*~

 

Anyway...

 

This week we looked at houses. More houses. Houses here and houses there. We've never "house-hunted" before. After we got engaged, we only looked at a couple condos {by ourselves, no realtor} before deciding to buy this one, and a friend who was a realtor at the time acted as our agent. Our priorities were different and our list of needs and wants was much shorter then, too. The thing that has surprised me the most so far is how sobering it is to look for a home. A large part of that is realizing the enormity of the decision: We commit to buy this house. To pay a lot of money for this bit of real estate. To live in this community. To say yes to this commute for Mike and these home improvements. We go in a home, and I immediately imagine myself living there...which is surprisingly hard to do. Why would I want to live here when I already have a nice, cozy, full-of-homeyness-home? I try to imagine cooking meals in this kitchen, sleeping in this bedroom, playing with Lainie on this living room floor, and it feels like brain surgery. For reals. Does anybody else have this problem?? And I'm not even thinking {yet!} about saying goodbye to the sweet little treehouse that has seen all our newlywed years, my first pregnancy, Lainie's infancy...all the painting and decorating, watching Hulu on laptops, our first Christmases and dinner parties and so many sweet memories.

 

If those aspects of house-hunting are sobering, the prices are downright discouraging. I know the Seattle area is one of the most expensive places in the country, but seriously?! It's hard to think of spending almost $300k on a house that needs work. And I don't think that's just me being persnickety. The mind boggles.

 

If only we didn't want to have a large family and thus require at least a three-bedroom...

 

Riiiiiight.  

 

I've been struggling with feeling like this is a deadly serious decision and we are either going to get it right {slim chance} or horribly, horribly wrong {entirely possible}. After our second round of house-looking, I went down to the beach with Lainie. I had a headache and really didn't want to make the effort to pack her up and go out. I forgot how windy and cold it is on the waterfront; we were both underdressed. Thankfully Lainie had fallen asleep in the car and was perfectly fine with two blankets {that's all I had with me} snugged around her in the stroller. I had this notion that I was going to read or journal or have this deep conversation with God about what lies ahead for us, but instead I just stared and did nothing. Tide out, noisy birds, lots of boaters, sun blinding white, kids shrieking on the playground.

 

 

:: it was bright as the Second Coming in reality, too ::

 

Lainie woke up pretty quickly. Once she got over her initial shock at the wind--I think it makes her feel like she can't catch her breath--she was utterly delighted to be out. She smiled and cooed nonstop, excited to look at everything and "talk." She's often upset to be in her carseat, and usually takes awhile to warm up to new situations, so her immediate, sustained pleasure and interest in our surroundings was a total kick for me.

 

:: happily watching clouds, trains, kids on the playground ::

 

:: loving our little adventure!! ::

 

 As we meandered down the beach, hopping from park bench to park bench, I had a growing awareness of Jesus' presence and Him telling me

 

Rest.

Rest in this: right here, right now.

Rest.

Trust Mike to make the right decision for your future, your home, and your family.

Rest in his leadership and his relationship with Me,

and then tell him you trust him to make those decisions.

Trust me. Trust Mike.

 

It wasn't audible words, just a really strong impression that I simply need to trust Mike to make these decisions and tell him so. Not in the "don't have an opinion, don't give him any input, don't prayerfully weigh the pros and cons" sense, but in the "I am confident that Jesus is directing us, and the final outcome will be exactly where Jesus wants us to be--it's not up to me to figure this out" sense.

 

It was a lot like when I knew I needed to let Mike decide what to name Lainie. Only this time I'm telling y'all so you can keep me accountable if you see me freaking out about houses and neighborhoods and such.

 

That night I told Mike. As he pointed out, it's not really a big deal, because it is exactly how I should approach this topic anyway. And yet it is a big deal, because it is so very opposite of the way my unruly heart wants to handle these unknowns. If you think of it, pray for us over these next weeks as we determine whether or not to move, where, and when. It's a lot harder emotionally, I think, than either of us was expecting; we have such close friends here, such an awesome community, and we really really love our church family. Neither of us is terribly excited about moving. Yet our good God is writing His story with our lives, and we know that wherever we are, we can rest in His care.

{ Babymoon, Part II }

It felt so luxurious to sleep in. So indulgent. So...almost naughty. But blissful!!

And we don't even have a baby yet...how will I handle the sleep-deprived-ness of a newborn?

Cooking big breakfasts. Reading the Bible on the deck. Watching the ferries come and go. Nowhere to go, nothing to do at any particular time. In spite of our severe lack of practice in the art of relaxing, I think we did a pretty good job.

When the tide was out, we walked down the beach. I found some awesome, huge shells that are now gracing our mantle.

 

:: That's Seattle, way over yonder! ::

In the afternoon, we went to the Point Robinson Lighthouse. It looks very similar to the Mukilteo Lighthouse...but shhhh, I think the one in Mukilteo is nicer!

There are two houses on the premises--both keepers' quarters--that can be rented year-round. Doesn't that sound like a fun family vacation?

We found a swing in a corner of grass between the keepers' quarters and the wilderness, and spent an hour or two reading and swinging and hoping the clouds over Mt. Rainier would lift.

They didn't.

On Sunday, we went to the Vashon Island Coffee Roasterie, where Seattle's Best Coffee got its start. It was a cool old building and we enjoyed browsing through the coffee memorabilia and the natural foods market that shares the space.

:: shelves upon shelves of herbs, many of which we'd never heard of ::

As I look back over these photos, I realize we didn't take a whole lot of pictures...which is nice. A change of pace for us. We enjoyed just hanging out together. No agenda. No alarms. No schedule. No plans. We've never done that, to this degree, before. It was great.

And can I just say that, for a couple who has had no TV for almost three years and just watches Hulu and movies on a laptop, the fact that the apartment had a flatscreen TV and streaming Netflix literally made us giddy! We are both adamantly anti-TV-in-the-bedroom, but it was so much fun to snuggle up next to Mike and watch "Dirty Jobs" {I love that show!} and "Burn Notice" {one of Mike's favorites}. Seriously, the best.

Thank you, Lord, for a wonderful weekend with my husband.

{ Babymoon ~ Part I }

On the last weekend in May, Mike and I took a Friday-Monday getaway to Vashon Island. Mike is always a very hard worker--I refrain from using the term "workaholic," but those of you who are one {or are married to one} know what I mean. ;-) I really wanted us to take a little babymoon more for his sake than my own; it's so hard to unplug from life and reconnect with each other when you're at home. With the added stress of Lainie's diagnosis, I am so glad that we had this little retreat.

We have unwittingly established a tradition of going to an island to celebrate our anniversary: Oahu {honeymoon}, Lopez Island {first anniversary}, Kauai {second anniversary}. Apparently we really enjoy islands. Since we'll almost certainly spend this anniversary at Children's Hospital--and because long car rides are not my cup of tea at this point in pregnancy--we opted for something a little closer to home. If you hit the ferry line right, it's hard to believe that somewhere so rural and pastoral and that requires a ferry ride is so close to home--our return trip {including a short ferry line wait} was one hour and fifteen minutes!

The beginning of ferry hair...                                                                       ...and its full, glorious state.

:: the Olympic Mountains were in their full glory ::

:: a beautiful day to be sailing! ::

:: approaching the dock ::

We stayed in a studio apartment that was literally on the waterfront and a couple hundred feet from the ferry dock. It was the perfect little nest for a couple. Falling asleep with the windows open, hearing the water lap on the shore, was so lovely--that's one of Mike's and my favorite memories about Hawaii.

Here's a photo tour:

 :: bathroom entry...a little more Buddhist than we liked, but oh well! ::

Let's step out onto the deck...                                                              ...ferry dock to the left...

...homeowner's yard and beach access to the right.

 :: better look at the yard/beach--the tide was pretty high in this photo ::

:: Mr. & Mrs. Mike ::

After a delicious dinner that evening at an Indian restaurant, we went on an exploratory jaunt down the island. It's only 13 miles long, and it's an island--how lost can you get? We stumbled across the tiny hamlet of Dockton just as the sunset ended.



Back at home, watching ferries in the dusk.

Next up: Babymoon, Part Deux!