Carter Medina is Here!

Being an aunt is one of my favorite roles to play. When Trisha and Mark adopted Gavin last year, my siblings and I were submerged into the wonderful world of auntdom and uncledom. And last night we were blessed with a second nephew: Carter Lee Schelden Medina.

Carter was born by c-section at 11:19 PM on February 22nd and weighed in at 8 lbs 6 oz.

Carter and his mommy are both doing very well, although they looked like they could use some good rest.

His skin was very red (except his feet which were purple), so I'm thinking of calling him "Edom" just for kicks. :-) Look at those toes!

When Gavin got his first glimpse of his baby brother, he was asked "How many fingers do you think your brother has?" "Ummm....I think four," he replied matter-of-factly, "Because I have five and I'm big!" Later on, we were commenting on how Carter's face looked a little like his mom's. Mark said, "Oh yeah, I guess I can see Trisha in his chin." Gavin looked up and said reassuredly, "I think his chin will get cute."

_______________________________________________
* If you'd like to see more pictures of Baby Carter, check out my photo site at http://picasaweb.google.com/TruShoe/BabyCarterMedina.
_______________________________________________

Valentines Day

My routine is pretty much the same every morning: wake up, go to the bathroom. Apparently, they know my pattern. The bathroom I use at the Smart's house is also their laundry room--so imagine my delight when I wandered in there yesterday morning to discover a bag on the washing machine.

Aww, it was a bag of valentines from the each person in the family. They are so kind to me!
Well, this year I actually had the will and the time to get stuff for people, so I spent the day buying balloons and little gifts and writing cards for my family and the Smarts. I came up with what I thought was a brilliant idea for Bethany and Chris.

See, tomorrow is their first anniversary and Bethy had mentioned how sad Chris was that he didn't get any cake at their wedding (besides the feed-eachother-bite), and how much he wishes that they had a frozen part to bring out for their anniversary (I know, yuck). Anyway, sometimes I suffer from over-confidence in my abilities and so yesterday I decided, "Oh, I'll just make them a little wedding cake for Valentines Day and their anniversary." No problem, right? So I went to the store and I got some white cake mix and some eggs and a white deco-tube of frosting. I bought some frozen strawberries that I was going to use to make a filling. The only problem was that I don't know how to make filling. I opened up the strawberries and added some powdered sugar--but that barely thickened them at all. I added some vanilla pudding mix, but barely noticed a difference. I vaguely recall my friend's mom making candy and so I decided that since there was sugar in it, I could just cook it and it would thicken as it boiled. Well, needless to say, nothing worked so in the end I made some frosting, flavored it with the strawberries and just used that for filling. It tasted good (we were all eating the scraps). But it kind of looked....pyramid-ish. In my head, the three tiers of cake were very straight and symmetrical and weddingesque. Instead the top layer of the bottom tier cracked and kept splitting when I put more frosting on it. The second and third tiers were then sitting on very VERY thick frosting, and they soon began to slide toward the side. The end result was a not-very-beautiful, not-very-symmetrical cake that looks reminiscent of the ruins of an ancient civilization.
I wish I could put a picture up of what I was imagining in my head so that you could compare it with the actual result. It was really a very beautiful concept. :-)

At least my whole family and I had a good laugh at it.
But Bethany was very gracious...let's hope for her and Chris' sake it tastes better than it looks!

Small Talk Should Be Banned

Small talk makes me feel uncomfortable. First you greet (and perhaps introduce yourselves to) one another. Then after a couple perfunctory questions comes the big pause, where my mind races in circles around what has just been said trying to grasp any comment, connection or follow-up question I should ask. If I can't think of any way to continue to draw the person out, I fall back on a comfortable time-filler for me: I tell them stories about my life. Or at least, I used to. See, when you work with youth there are always lots of fresh stories. Right now, though, my life is pretty boring. These days my story would be something like, "Yeah, so I built a lincoln log cabin with my nephew yesterday and then he knocked it down." Or maybe, "Hey I just made $64.00 selling useless stuff on ebay!" I can feel my social stock plummeting with the mention of ebay.

Small talk is especially awkward while unemployed. The first question that we ask one another in our culture is "What do you do?" I used to think that was a sign of our culture's obsession with material success and so I tried to find something else to ask, but "How old are you anyway?" is kinda' frowned upon and "Tell me, how are you feeling about life these days?" is a bit personal for someone I just met. So I'm back to asking "What do you do," but I dread the moment when they finish their response and return the question: "How about you, what do you do?" Then I get to pick whether I think it's worse say "I don't do anything; I'm unemployed," which will cause them to ask questions and I will have to explain the whole story, or if it's worse to actually tell them what I do: "I live in my friends' basement and look for a job inbetween babysitting gigs." Either way I know that my answer will make them feel uncomfortable.

People don't like negative information in small talk. That's why when someone asks you "How are you?" you automatically say "fine" even if your life is in shambles and you pillow is still drying from last night's tears. And that's what the other person wants you to say--that you're fine or great or even fantastic. I know this because I went through a phase when I decided that being a person of integrity required a whole-hearted honest response to the question, "How's it going?" What I discovered is that 99% of the time people don't actually want to know how you're doing. Why they ask, then, I'll never know. But I do know that if you're not doing very well and you honestly reveal your struggles to the inquirer, they will get very uncomfortable and begin glancing around the room seeking an exit from the conversation. My new take is that I only answer the question honestly if I think a person is asking honestly.

Another popular topic in small talk is relationships. "How is your family?" works if you actually know about their family. Or if you know they're seeing someone you can ask about the significant other. When people ask me it's usually "So, are you seeing anyone?" At the point in the conversation where I have revealed to someone that I not only have no job but I also do not have a family or any hopeful prospect of having a family in the future I notice their attitude change toward me. They're afraid to ask anymore questions lest I burst into tears and reveal yet another level of patheticness in my life.*

It's a challenge for me to keep conversation light and peppy. My two biggest blunders in small talk are either monopolizing the conversation to fill the empty pauses or revealing too much of myself too quickly. No joke, a couple months ago I somehow revealed in a short conversation that my mother had miscarried prior to my birth. Kristi, what in the world were you thinking!? Appropriately enough, death is conversation killer. How that conversation picked itself up and limped forward, I still don't understand. But even short of bringing up my mother's personal loss, I still have a hard time not sharing on a level that makes people feel awkward. I can't help it; I run out of "light" things to say--and the things that I really think and feel deep down, those are the things that I want to share and discuss. The weather and the superbowl can only penetrate so far into a person's soul. And I guess unless I connect with someone's soul, I don't feel as if I've really connected with them at all.

Well, seeing as how I haven't heard any of the presidential hopefuls promise to propose a small talk ban, I guess I will have to get better at it. Here's what I'm thinking: instead of asking someone "What do you do?" or "How's your family?" I'm simply going to say, "So, tell me about yourself." This will give them the opportunity to share with me whatever they think is valuable about themselves whether that be their job or their family or their collection of teenage mutant ninja turtles. It will save them the discomfort of sharing something they are embarrased about and it will save me the discomfort of wondering if I brought up a sore subject since they get to pick their own subject. Hopefully, it will also help to minimize the awkward pauses that usually precipitate my anecdotal rambling, since it is a much more open-ended inquiry and can be followed up with all sorts of questions about whatever information they choose to reveal about themselves (i.e., "Cool! So which turtle is your favorite?, etc.).

I've also decided to strike a happy medium when it comes to personal revelation. If people ask me a question that ties into something real that I'm dealing with in my life (whether it's good or bad or inbetween), I'm not going to drop an E-bomb (E is for emotional, not electronic!) on them, but I'm also not going to pretend that my experiences are divorced from my emotions or that my faith is easily contained instead of permeating the various aspects of my life. I should be able to find a healthy balance between stoicism and overrevelation, right? The hard part for me will be discovering that balance in real conversation.

At least I'll get lots of practice. That's the worst part of looking for a church to become a part of. There's often this part in the service where someone instructs us to "stand on up and introduce yourselves to the people around you." For years I thought this was a nice, friendly practice. Now, as a visitor, I dread it. But next Sunday I'm going to take it as an opportunity to try out my new guidelines for small talk.

_____________________________________
*Although I wish there were universally accepted fonts for sarcasm, facetiousness, etc., in their absence let me assure the reader that this blog is written in a playful, humorous spirit not a bitter, self-loathing one. In fact, despite my states of unemployment and singleness, I find I like myself more days than not. But thanks for your concern. ;-)

Reverse Errands

I usually hate errands! It's a bunch of driving, parking, running inside, doing something (that usually takes time and costs money), driving somewhere else, running inside, doing something else that costs money... Grr... no wonder I hate errands--they take up two of my limited commodities: time and money.

Well, yesterday was a reverse-errand day. I ran errands (with my 3-year-old nephew in tow--I have no clue how all you mom's do this every day. Buckling and unbuckling alone added an extra half-hour to the errands!), but aside from the gas station and lunch, instead of spending money, I gained it! Here's a low-down on my errands:

1.) Turn in church keys and pick up final reimbursement check.
2.) Return dress to ROSS and receive $12 gift card.
3.) Go to bank to deposit reimbursement check and security deposit from my apartment, plus some birthday funds (deposits are so nice!).
4.) Return gifts to Fred Meyer and receive a $45 gift card.
5.) Drop by bookstore to see if they will buy any of my used books I'm getting rid of--I made $76 on the spot!

While erranding drains me, reverse-erranding infused me with energy yesterday. Money is so weird. Or maybe I'm so weird about money. I don't like about myself that money has the power to make me feel secure or uncertain, cheerful or woebegone. Money is just a tool, a necessary part of our lives, useful for converting labor and love and concern into a place to stay, a mode of transportation, clothes to wear and food to eat. History has taught us that it is an unreliable tool, though, so I would be foolish to place my security in it. In my wise moments I recognize that my true security does not rest in my savings account, but in the wise, benevolent God who has a plan for my life that includes what is best for me--even if it isn't what is most comfortable for me!

Mofasida Kristi

One awesome aspect of being unemployed is that I get to do basically whatever I want! At our extended family Christmas celebration, my cousin Sheila mentioned that I should come visit her and her husband and son in Missouri and I thought, "sounds great!" A few days later I booked tickets for a spectacular deal and ended up flying back on their same flight. My cousin Sheila, Paul and their adorable son Nathan are studying at a Missionary Training Center preparing to go to Indonesia to share the good news of forgiveness with people who have never heard about the One True God or the love he showed us by coming as a man and paying the punishment for our sin.

I spent the week on their 300-acre campus basking in the beauty of God's creation, sitting in on their classes, cuddling Nathan, and spending hours discussing truth and life and God's will. It was such a refreshing time!

One of the classes I sat in on was teaching us how to use kinship diagrams (think family trees) as a way to learn about family relationships and terms in a new culture. We learned that most all relatives can be described by using any of eight basic relationships: Father, Mother, Brother, Sister, Husband, Wife, Son or Daughter. When written these eight terms can be abbreviated by the first two letters in each word. Thus my maternal grandmother would be my momo (mother's mother). This terminology made it possible for us to settle a long debate: who am I to Nathan? He is my first cousin once removed...but what is the reciprocal of that? His once-added first cousin? No, using the abbreviations we can aptly describe me as Nathan's Mofasida--his mother's father's sister's daughter!

Mofasida Kristi was delighted to get to spend a week with the Gunderson family. It was a treat to get to be there for Nathan's first taste of solid food, and I still have a mental picture of the rising sun peeking through the trees, casting long shadows along the shore of the lake! I'm so thankful that God granted me this wonderful week with my Mobrda, Mobrdahu and Mobrdaso!

______________________
If you're interested in seeing more pictures from my trip, check out my Missouri Trip album at my photo site www.picasaweb.google.com/trushoe.

Encouragement From Unexpected Sources

There's nothing that gets me down faster than several days of seemingly fruitless job-hunting!

First, I looked for available ministry positions--but the few that seemed like they could be a good fit were all out of state. I'd really like to stay nearby at least for the next six months or so in order to be here for my friend's wedding and the birth of my nephew. Next I looked for available office positions in the Portland area. There are many--but not so many that pay enough to cover rent and car insurance. Those that pay better often require specialties that I don't have: speaking Laotian, for example, or being proficient in various softwares that I've never been introduced to (but I'm sure I could pick up on quickly). So, I'd found a few leads, but nothing that jumped out at me as great and I was starting to feel discouraged.

That coupled with the fact that I've stayed at home pretty much the past two days working from the computer made me start to feel like a mega-loser. I'm only one video game console away from being a lazy mooch!

But today was much better. For one thing, I woke up earlier because I used a sleeping aid last night and fell asleep at a decent hour. It's amazing how much less loserish I feel when I'm up early. Then I had a mid-morning meeting with a friend and was encouraged by him and by a possibility for a future ministry position that he presented. It's not for sure, and I'm not sure yet whether or not I'd be the best one for the job, but just dreaming about it all day made me excited again about the prospect having a goal and a purpose--challenging work ministering to people God made and loves! As I said, it is in no way certain and wouldn't come about for some months, but the possibility itself was very encouraging to me.

When I got back home, I had two emails waiting for me. One was from a local youth pastor about the possibility of referring my past students to his program. From his description it sounds like a good program that challenges the students to grow in their relationship with God. I'm taking three students with me tonight to check it out. The second email was from a high-school friend who read my blog on myspace and wrote out of the blue to tell me that my writing had been an encouragement to her. Well that was certainly an encouragement to me!

So today has been a good day. Just when I was starting to feel underwhelmed by the lack of direction in my life, God sent me a few small affirmations and encouragements to show me once again (why do I always need to be reminded of these lessons?) that he is leading me and that he will use me whenever, wherever, and however he desires.

There's Nothing Worse Than...

...waking up with a spider bite on your face! Okay, I know that isn't true, but still it is one of my least favorite ways to wake up, for the obvious reasons. It means A SPIDER HAS CRAWLED ACROSS MY FACE--and who knows where else! And I can't help but wonder, where did it go after it feasted on my face?

Was it one of the seven spiders a year that experts say I swallow in my sleep (the only statistic that ever made me want to sleep with my mouth taped shut)? Or perhaps it crawled to the back of my head and is currently nesting in my hair? (You straight-haired people probably don't have to worry about this quite as much; you'd be able to tell if there were a spider in your hair!) Don't worry, I reassure myself, maybe it is not inside you or on you anymore. Maybe it just crawled down into your bed and is currently hiding between your sheets. I think I'll sleep on the couch tonight. Even if the monster managed to crawl back to it's home in the wall, what is to keep it from coming back out and crawling all over me again tonight? I'm reminded of the time my friend Jessica and I went to the beach cabin and someone had left the bathroom window open for over a month and there were hundreds of spiders all over the house. We hunted down as many as we could and then we pulled our bed out from the wall and sprayed a perimeter of Raid on the floor around the bed to try to make ourselves feel safer. But what will keep it from lowering itself onto me from the ceiling? Oh the horrors!

Plus, there's still the actual bite. On my FACE.

I can't disguise it. It's a big white bump surrounded by a giant red circle. It would take miracle makeup to camouflage this puppy! If it were on my arm I'd consider lancing it and trying to squeeze out the poison, but I've decided to let this one die of natural causes. (Of course, my paranoid mind is imagining my sad fate should it turn out to be a brown recluse spider bite and my flesh rots and they have to remove half my face. That would be sad. Although if movies and musicals have taught us anything, it is that half-faced people actually fare pretty well. They generally end up either ridiculously talented musicians, or at least rich misers with giant mansions. Well if my goal in life were to be ridiculously wealthy or astoundingly musical...maybe that wouldn't be so bad. But if I want to talk to people about Jesus, then it would be helpful not to frighten people away with my face.

I was going to write a short paragraph about the spider bite. How did this get so long? I'm stopping now. It's just a stupid spider bite. You'd never guess I once spent the night in a jungle hut that was infested with red ants. Well, I'd write more, but the spider bite is swelling so huge that there's no more room for my tongue in my cheek! ;-) I'm stopping now for real.