Good Friday 2011

It seems only fitting that as Easter draws near and as Holy Week ends so does my season of "fasting." Admittedly, I didn't really give up any food or fast in the normal sense but I made the discipline and practice of fasting from, well, hating my growing body. For me this looks like to get in the practices of eating often (very often) without guilt, of putting on clothes without changing a million times, of embracing and submitting to the changes that are necessary during this time; and to see them as beautiful as the crab apple blossoms all over town. As with usual Lenten practices, I have failed, many times, but I am becoming more accustomed to the higher numbers on the scales, the tightly fitting jeans, and wider looking face. To actually discipline myself to do something tangible I was challenged to set out my clothes the night before and NOT CHANGE. It's a really hard thing for me to do, and I failed a few times, just as I did on those days that "130lbs" really got me down (how do you really stop the thoughts that tell me "unmanageable, clunky, taking up too much room"?) But I also had many days where I delighted in the tummy I've got going, and if anything, laughed at how voluptuous I've become.... errrrr. And just as the trees are showing their baby leaves, and the grass is turning green, it seems only appropriate that I would see some promise of the spring to come, so as to encourage my journey in this pregnancy thing....
Yesterday we got to see our little baby. I remember thinking to myself specifically as I laid on the table, "look at that! this is why I will gain 30+lbs" I want to do this. I'll do whatever to hold you." I cannot wait for it: for motherhood, and putting aside my own vanities seems to be a huge step to properly move towards that reality. I love the kid already. AHHH. I could not stop talking about it. And I won't.
(Here's a picture, but I'm torturing my family and friends who are curious as I can't reveal the sex until Easter....)

this is our little one. looks like a member of the Cooper family, to me.

As we move into the Easter weekend I pray we all take today to reflect on the memorial of the death of Jesus Christ. I know it's a simple tenant to the Christian faith but, the man actually died. And he actually had his last meal and served his friends, as we commemorated last night for Maundy Thursday. The Christian faith, in all its mystery is real and challenging to our lives, and this time during Holy Week is the perfect opportunity and really vital time to orientate our lives to the Savior, to renue our lives to the promises made visible and attainable by Jesus' horrible death on the cross. As always, I want to bring up Masaccio's Holy Trinity where Mary points to the death, but in doing so points towards the Throne of Heaven: The Father, and Son and the Holy Spirit (in the shape of a dove) descending from Father to the Son. She points to the promises that we can choose to accept and to follow only because of His death, for as we see below, in the plain of us as viewers, as mortals, is the skeleton with the memento mori, "I once was as you are and I am what you will be."
Both a warning and promise, this is Holy Week 2011.

Drama

The thought of raising kids becomes all the more scary and big as the weeks progress. I see kids now and they look even more like little sponges that pick up any little thing that falls from their parents. I see family dynamics and dramas and realize my limitations and downfalls as a human being and become frightened for this innocent little wonderful thing growing without the outside influence of the world (well...they say the baby can hear now, and Kanye West is still my guiltiest pleasure...so we'll see, this child might come out with more ego than any of us). But I get moments of relief when I realize that there are millions of babies born all the time to imperfect humans, and that these little babies grow up to be people, imperfect, but good people. People like my best friends, or my husband, or my sister and sister/brother in laws and parents. It's actually when I think of my parents that I am most comforted. I was given alot to look up to, a really good example to model my life after. Seth and I both were blessed with parents who are/were very wise, therefore, I really hope, this might make me kind of wise or even have some intuition about how to go about raising a kid without being stressed about doing the "right" or "wrong" thing all the time.
I was in class yesterday and rather than working we had this giant discussion about family and gender etc and I was pleasantly struck by how great my parents were when Lacey and I were growing up. The biggest thing, amongst peers talking about how their dads treated them like little princesses (not a good thing, people) or moms who gave their daughters the silent treatment, was that my parents were consistent and on the same team. Lacey and I were always treated as children (not as an adult friend who you have little dramas that result in silent passive aggression or as spoiled-perfect-mini-human-pets) and never as pawns between an argument between Mom and Dad. This seems really prevalent today. I don't really know how it manifests itself or what it looks like but I hear plenty of stories about it and of the stories of peers of mine landing in the priveledged? position of being on Mom's side or on Dad's side, when kids shouldn't even have to take a side. I don't want there to be a side to ever be on, the very idea of a different "side" would imply a disconnect between dad and mom clearly communicating to child that the bond and marriage between husband and wife doesn't need to come first in family life. I just have to think that if a child is being used as a pawn to settle arguments or whatever then they have special privilege without responsibility as "child" but as "friend" "confidant" etc. Kids need discipline and example and that's exactly what I got, and I'm so glad. I'm so glad I didn't have to know and be burdened by arguments or dramas between my dad and mom. I know they had them (being married now, i wonder how could anyone not?) And I'm so blessed that they took the time to work hard enough to understand each other so Lacey and I were always aware of expectations--indications of their very obvious "oneness." This unity is a beautiful challenge for Seth and I to try to live up to.

Well, that's all. Tomorrow is my 24th birthday which is great I guess. The best birthday present I could receive is a healthy looking baby as we will be able to see next Thursday at our first ultrasound. Not to mention finding out if baby is boy or girl!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


....and maybe, Seth, if you could download me that new Kanye West cd. (seriously though, how is this not kind of great :http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L7_jYl8A73g
or this old favorite: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uvb-1wjAtk4)

Icons, Idols?

So, art history is one of those things that can get me started on this big discussion or lecture. I start by showing Seth some of my favorite images then I start telling him the stories and contexts behind them (a great way to study, by the way). Yesterday he began by talking about Mary, and how she's probably a good saint to reflect on during this time of Lent and pregnancy. He mentioned Mary's Magnificat and I shouted, "Botticelli has a tondo painting of that scene!" In which I promptly pulled out my textbook and explained how the idealized and gorgeous virgin and baby Jesus icon was scrutinized by the Dominican Monk, Savonarola, who attributed the ills and down-fall of Florence near the end of the 1400s to the "vanities" of the culture. That is, icons that to me began to take on humanistic portraiture to stand in for holy figures (I'm talking about you Fra Fillipo Lippi, and using your wife as a stand in for the Madonna). During medival times icons were painted with gold backgrounds and green flesh, with the Christ Child in a gesture of blessing and Mary in the "one who points the way (way=Christ)." This was to signal a holy, transcendent being, but here in the Neoplatonic Renaissance, we see painters and patrons who believe that to be worldly is not bad, for being worldly was then to be beautiful which was to be like God, since we are made in the image of Christ/God etc etc. Beauty was revered and vanities by the major patrons of the time (cough cough Medici) such as Botticelli's Mary Magnificat were scrutinized, (personally I feel) rightly, for having strayed away from Christ and from the teachings of the church ( from the meek and humility, poverty, etc to lavish extravagance and material beauty).

Giotto's Madonna and Child

Botticelli's Mary Magnificat

Now to write from a purely conjectural point of view....honestly I don't know much about the history of the Catholic church or of the church in general, as I'm still learning, but I know from my experience Catholicism has gotten a bad rap. Coming from my evangelical background, Catholicism isn't really seen as Christian, but rather a cold and lifeless motion of steps of strange idolatry to saints, of a weird, foreign structure that seems to be really restrictive. I used to think Catholic=Mary worship. And perhaps this shallow stereotype is one that isn't completely unfounded (I look at icons from the 1400s and Mary is becoming more and more glorified--baby Jesus, rather than in a gesture of blessing, is reaching for Mary's face.), Mary's position in the tradition could have been misinformed by humanist and worldly thought. But to think about who Mary was and her position of carrying the Redeemer of humanity, you have to reason that Mary's position (as well as all other saints) in the Church, in the Chrisitian narrative and tradition should not to be taken lightly. She cannot be dismissed as a mystical Catholic icon that seems to be worshiped. Seth suggested to me that I consider Mary as an example for me. Pregnancy is not the easiest thing in the world to accept. Let me be clear, when that stick showed up positive I could not have been more thrilled. SOOOOO happy, but when I see my body changing (I want the belly, but to be frank, my face is filling out, as is everything else...), when I have to sit down after like 30 minutes, when I have to eat all the time, when I have to consider every drop of food I eat, and how I eat it (I think I'm experiencing heartburn for the first time ever), when I look like some teenager going through a rough breakout, I begin to feel like I am not myself anymore. I am not in control of my body. I must be submitted to the process of being pregnant. Mary submitted to the mystery of acceptance of Christ. It is a beautiful metaphor to hold the Word, the Light, close(how much closer could you get than in the womb?!). Mary was faithful, and why did she do it? It was a pure love; our choice perhaps to allow Christ to enter and control our lives. It's really powerful, and I'm especially lucky to be in a position where I can experience this submission first hand. My job now, in this time of uncertainty, of waiting, of even grieving the loss of the vanities of my youth, is to be faithful to what I have submitted myself to: to being a mother, to carrying life, to taking care of the work I have been given now to do. Those are what I need to concern myself with now, not worries of how it's all going to work out four months from now.

17 weeks (almost 5 mos)

.it's called break for a reason.

So maybe I didn't accomplish as much as I would have liked on this spring break. It's not like I'll be behind, but I usually like to be ahead. Besides, I have tomorrow to put the pressure on.

But how can you work on a day when your husband is home, when all the doors are open, when our perennials are coming up and when the early spring plants need planting (oh, radishes how I can't wait for you.) I take a weird amount of joy in busying myself with chores around the house, like: finally making a linen closet out of the linen closet, laundry in prep for visitors next week(!) and experimenting with a new lunch. Look how cute:

These are actually quite tasty: layer yummy breakfast meats (I swear, this pregnancy thing is the strangest thing ever--when have I ever craved meat?), spinach (in a rueish like sauce), an egg topped with sea salt and fresh ground pepper. yum. I have been really challenged lately by the idea of really stretching my pantry and fridge. Eggs seem to be the go to source of protein for this family as I always try to cook less with red meat and more with cheap simple ingredients. Also, love it or hate it, I've been really finding some value in frozen spinach: I've been throwing it in everything especially when I feel I could use the green and when the thought of raw lettuce still turns my stomach a little bit.

I am around 15.5 weeks pregnant which means I feel alot better and it means that the idea of "baby" seems more real too especially as my waist begins to look more round than fluffy, and especially as I have dreams every other night of meeting the baby and realizing that it's a boy and that my prediction was wrong. I am able to go on walks with Julian and stay up past nine, and cooking boxed dinners just doesn't have the same appeal it used to a couple weeks ago. It's a good time, I'm starting to see the Spring.



Now...time to go plant some seeeeeeds!

the park + the liepes

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I got together with my sister and brother in law, Chris and Emily, and their precious bundle of giggles, Emerson, my newest nephew. We had a really nice time after devouring our Subway sandwiches....

i love this picture of them and their little monkey man



Em had a great idea to block some of the sun :)


don't worry: we didn't let him continue sucking on that seat ;)

i guess it's only fair that the camera was turned near the end of our day at the park
naptime
i treasure this image: and i can't wait for looks like that
good day. love you, Liepes.

Spring Cold

Yesterday I went shopping for maternity clothes as I was feeling the pinch of my jeans getting tighter and tighter. It was kind of a mistake. My body is long and slender, but I see it only as bigger and bigger, less and less manageable. When it came time to try on a pair of maternity pants I was horrified to see my figure drowning in a confusing mess of fabric--so unflattering! Like overalls! It seemed like a joke (am I really going to be able to fit in those?!). But a little joke that has rubbed me the wrong way and is festering. Going through racks of clothes I am confronted with knowing that I can't fit into that any more, and that this or that may never look the same. I think I'm probably mourning these things. Loss of youth perhaps?
But the situation goes deeper because I struggle alot with body issues, I always have. Rather than feeling that feminine maternal glow that some talk about, I feel increasingly masculine as I grow bigger. Less soft as the my "angles" fade away. And it's most frustrating when I am so ecstatic to be pregnant, when I want to embrace every single part, that I have a really hard time being happy with what is going on on the outside when I know I should embrace it as the physical manifestation of the good work I am doing for what's on the the inside.
I feel that I need to speak and be open about these struggles so that they don't spiral or consume (As they so often do for me) and I would really be open to hearing how other mothers have become resolved to their changing bodies.

Today I am going to McCook, Nebraska; to the location of my best summer vacations, and to share in good memories with my dear aunts and uncles and parents. I have these primal urges to go back to Nebraska; it is really like clockwork--I start to have dreams, day dreams, sadness when it's been too long. I woke up this morning tossing and sniffling back the spring cold I have, unable to fall asleep as I anticipated the landscape of that lonely nebraskan highway. I get to go back, and it's about time. PLUS! I have a Pentax 6x7 camera to for the trip and rolls of slide film to use.

Transfiguration Sunday

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tPLzdCuIIFY&feature=related

This past sunday was Transfiguration Sunday and in addition to a really beautiful service (was it just me or was it especially moving to sing all those hymns and to sense this spiritual mystery that is so especially potent during this time) we were told to get out all of our "Hallelujahs" since we will be heading into the season of Lent after this Wednesday.

I mentioned earlier this peculiar mystery that seems to pervade through this time. Not only is the Transfiguration a bizarre and mysterious event but isn't the whole of Christianity? Those mentioned miracles (from Annunciation, to the Nativity, to the Transfiguration, all the way up until the Resurrection) are strange, not at all "natural" but stories that through their seemingly improbability show us the "nature" of following Christ. Of faith, of submitting to something completely bigger and greater than you and me.

What I enjoy about this time of year is how it, again, mysteriously aligns with many of the other seasonal events that are occuring at the same time. This time of year in Colorado is always the ugliest to me: everything is washed out, dried, and brittle. We hardly see any promises of Spring, and to top it off we go to an Ash Wednesday service and are given a cross of ashes on our forehead and told basically which is seen in Masaccio's Trinity's momento mori, "Io fu gia quel che voi siete e quel chio son voi anco sarete" or "I was once what you are, and what I am you also will be." A real dust to dust story! And how depressing, but what is so life changing about the season of Lent is that we as Christians today experience this darkness to prepare for the glory of the Resurrection. The prophecy realized. "Lost in the cloud, a voice: Lamb of God! We draw near! Lost in the cloud, a sign: Son of man! Son of God!" Further, as the 40 days progress and as Easter draws nearer, we see those promises of Spring, of things resurrecting, of things returning. What a lovely design for us to see some sort of manifestation of the promises made by Christ Himself. In death there is Life. Perhaps this is why I was even more so moved during Worship as we sang these hymns that curiously had some spring imagery in them such as this verse in "Fairest Lord Jesus:"

Fair are the meadows, fairer still the woodlands,
robed in the blooming garb of spring:
Jesus is fairer, Jesus is purer
who makes the woeful heart to sing.

Spring (as a metaphor) is coming but I can hardly tell, yet.

Lent is a rough time, at least it seems to have been that way for the past couple years. But because of these miracles, because of the promises (to me, made especially obvious by the transformation of the landscape :) given, we always have a reason to hope and sing.

Now, in other news, I am counting down the days until spring break. I am not going anywhere and I have a lot of homework, but it is going to be soooo nice to have no classes to go to, no further accumulating homework, and time to focus on some rest. Though I am out of the first trimester and though I am feeling better it is still a challenge to balance what is really important. School is important, but not that important. Sure, school is great and I'm learning things that I love (LOVE), but you can't watch a freaking bachelor's degree grow up. It's not a life, it doesn't have a heart beat; but my baby does. I want to do the things I am doing, I want a good job (maybe just to keep up with the status quo) but the life I'm growing is the most important thing I could ever be doing. I am so happy to be pregnant. It becomes more and more real each day (especially when my favorite dress becomes tight and uncomfortable--).






ps. go to Snooze tomorrow and eat pancakes. I will be there and hoping for lemon souffle pancakes like Barbara in Vermont makes (cravings). Proceeds go to Harvest Farm (that's where Sef works)