6710 Grand

I had a meeting with a donor this week and she mentioned how glad she was that her work from home husband finally got some office space away from the house.  I mentioned this to my boss yesterday and he sympathized.  His wife would hate it if he were home and underfoot all the time. I am amazed by this.  These aren't unhappily married couples.  I've seen both pairs together and they're quite happy.  But every morning that Nick is home and I'm headed off to work, he practically begs me to call in sick.  And trust me I'd REALLY love to!  I love my job.  I REALLY love my job.  I work long hours and take it home at night and on weekends and that's just fine with me.  I obsess over my work in the middle of the night--it's what keeps me up much more than worrying about, well, anything else really.  It's a great job and I wouldn't trade it for any other (maybe a promotion or a raise would be nice but even without them, I'm perfectly happy).  But I wou

It was December 2002.  I’d been invited to go on a cruise with my then boyfriend (now husband) and his family for Christmas.  I was booked on a flight from Kanas City to Denver and then on to San Diego.  I was still afraid of flying but the excitement of the trip was outweighing my fears.  Also, I hadn't seen Nick in more than three months and had just spent the better part of the last year working out like a fiend and dropping 27 pounds.  In addition, I’d been spending my mornings in the tanning booth so I was a nice golden brown (I know—it’s really just skin damage but I was young and stupid.).  Yes, I looked GOOD!  I’d planned my airport attire very carefully, wanting to walk off the plane that evening in such a way as to completely turn the heads of every man but most especially, Nick.  I wore a shockingly short tan skirt, black ¾ sleeve turtleneck (a slim cut) and my knee high black boots (my hooker boots—yes).  My hair was piled high on top of my head and put great effor

I got a pedicure yesterday (ok, so I was trying to induce labor--it didn't work) so my feet are now pretty and swollen as opposed to just swollen.  I've always found feet to be pretty disgusting.  Just ask my friend Amy who was forever putting her feet on me when we were younger just to annoy me, or my dad who was always trying to find a way to put his foot in my ear (long story).  Feet=gross!  Pedicures are actually hard for me to sit through but that's mostly because my feet are really ticklish.  It's generally a pleasant process interspersed with moments of absolute torture. This week I'm working my way through yet another Max Lucado book, Grace  where he's talking about how good deeds don't get us into Heaven and salvation was paid for by Jesus and a debt we owed but He didn't (same old stuff, different book but always worth hearing).  The part I read this morning told a story of a women who was driving along when suddenly a frozen turkey landed on

I was so hoping to be posting the details of my weekend labor.  Not so much.  I keep telling myself that it's only 39 weeks.  I'm not overdue.  But I FEEL overdue.  I feel like I should be heading to the hospital any day now. We tried every trick in the book--spicy food, lots of walking, even a bumpy hayride at the peach orchard yesterday.  Nothing.  Today, more walking and more spicy food.  When I went in for my weekly appointment this afternoon I was fully expecting SOMETHING to happen.  Another centimeter (already at 3) more effacement (just 60%) my water breaking during the exam--ANYTHING to tell me that today is the day. Nothing. Well, maybe tomorrow.  I have a pedicure planned to help things along.  Keep your fingers (and toes and anything else you can) crossed!

Jane Austen was someone that my high school creative writing teacher told me that I would love.  He was right.  While I can't say that I've read all of her books, I've read quite a few.   Sense and Sensibility is my favorite.  I loved the movie when it came out and loved the book even more. Nick loves a good period film and generally all things British.  We've watched every Simon Pegg movie (and I really love Hot Fuzz ), Iron Lady , The Queen and dozens of others.  I suggested watching my favorite Austen movie earlier this week.  After World's End  last weekend, I could stand for some intelligent film.  I wasn't surprised that he enjoyed it.  After all, it did star Hugh Grant, whom Nick often refers to as "charmingly befuddled".  Indeed he was in this movie.  Now that he's see this movie, I dared to suggest Pride and Prejudice  last night.  But, not to push my luck too far, I also said that 2 Guns  was also an option (a nice, violent, guy movie

My brother-in-law recently cut his hair.  You might not think that's saying much but until a few days ago, when describing Dan to just about anyone, I would have said that he looks like every picture I've ever seen of Jesus.  Full beard, long (very long) flowing brown hair, blue eyes and tall.  Dan is the only 6'7 person I know where his height isn't necessarily the first thing you notice about him...but then again, he is THE only 6'7 person I know. Dan is one of the nicest people you could ever hope to meet.  It's no surprise that our girls get more excited to see Uncle Danny than they do their own father.  Let's face it--Dad's lots of fun, but Uncle Danny is much more funner.  He does cool things like surf and ride a skate board (Dad can do these things too, but they always seem to forget that).  Uncle Danny has a dog.  We all remember what a disaster it was when WE had a dog.  Uncle Danny (and Aunt Meagan too) buys them really cool presents like mar

I have a friend and former coworker named Sheldon.  He reminds me of my grandmother's old boyfriend, Ed (how many people can say THAT!) mostly because they look the same.  He also reminds me a lot of my dad.  That's for the often predictable yet rarely anticipated sarcasm.  I'd say that Sheldon is interesting, but that's just not doing him justice.  Working with Sheldon was NEVER dull.  He'd say things that would have you doubled over laughing in one breath and things that would make you wonder how he's not yet been fired in the next. Once we became Facebook friends, the real fun started. It was a lovely day so I post about the weather. Me:  Sitting outside enjoying the mid 70's. Sheldon:  I didn't know you were in your 70's. I'm eating my daily hard boiled eggs and am having trouble peeling them. Me:  I hate it when my eggs don't peel. Sheldon:  I didn't know you were ovulating. Our dog chewed on EVERYTHING so I post. Me:  W

"Why are you reading that?"  Nick asks, looking at my book. I frown.  His question is completely ridiculous.  "It's about coffee.  Why wouldn't I read it?" Now, this isn't Howard Schultze and his building of the Starbucks empire, it's Cleo Coyle's Coffeehouse Mystery series.  THIS is my kind of book!  Not at all the dreaded Twilight series or that horrible Husband's Secret .  Don't get me wrong, it's not winning any literary prizes but it combines two of my great loves--coffee and reading.  GREAT!  Sign me up!  I'm working my way through the series via my library and am on book 8, I think:   Espresso Shot.  The only troubling thing really is that the series's main character, Claire Cosi, seems to find her way into a disturbingly high number of murders.  She's the owner of a coffeehouse (a very famous one in the book--no idea if it's a real-life reference) and yet somehow murder seems to follow her around.  It'

We've been watching old home movies--the girls call them the Ivy and Iris movies.  It's been fun seeing them when they were babies and thinking how we'll get to do all of this again.  We've found absolute treasures mixed in with the holiday and vacation memories. "Dad, do you want to play throw the catch?"--Ivy "Oh WAH TAH!" --Iris  Don't ask me what that means, but she used to say it all the time. An adorable exchange between Ivy and Nick about Great Grandma Olson's trip to Heaven. We look at them when they were 1 and 2 and 4 and think how it feels like yesterday that they did these cute things.  And yet still it seems like long ago... Just this morning, Iris saw my bottle of Tums (a.k.a. pregnant candy for those of you who know) and asked if I had "heart broken".  t was a moment for the camera certainly and reminded me that we really need to take more Ivy and Iris movies...and watch them much more often before these days

Nick and I took the girls to Red Robin for dinner last night.  We had to drive about 45 minutes to get there but it was worth it.  Long gone are the days when we go once or twice a week.  It's been nearly a year since we've been.  As we left the restaurant, I was suddenly reminded of a looming crisis.  We were out of coffee.  I had used up the last of it that morning, having every intention of going to the store on my lunch break (what's a lunch break?). Fortunately, the crisis was easily averted with a stop off at Shoprite on the way home.  Shoprite is currently my favorite grocery store--they have expectant mother parking.  Finding decent decaf is a challenge here so I often settle for mediocre.  But when it comes to coffee cream, there's really only one suitable option:  Coffee Mate.  Perusing the cream options I nearly picked up creme brulee.  But then, I saw it!  The delicious, aromatic, creamy Peppermint Mocha (cue angelic singing).  This was a sign!  A true sig

The world seems to be falling apart.  I can't keep all of these international conflicts straight.  Palestine and Israel (an old fight); Ukraine and Russia (I think?); Iraq and Isis (not sure who exactly that last one is); and last but not least, looters and the city of Ferguson, MO.  What a mess. And none of it really makes sense to me.  I can't imagine hating anyone so much that I want to eliminate an entire race of people.  I can't imagine thinking that destroying a city will somehow bring justice to a young man who has gone home to God.  But that's just me.  I know I don't understand it all.  Someone somewhere thinks these fights are worth it.  I have to say that I don't.  Killing other people never feels like the right answer for me. For all of the extremists who hate Americans, I'd really love to sit down and have a chat over a cup of coffee (or tea if you prefer) and try to really understand why you think I'm so awful.  I'd really like to k

Years ago, when I was living in Kansas, I fell in love with the library.  Every week I went and checked out as many books as I could carry.  Sometimes I finished them, sometimes not.  I found the cooking section, the writing section, the Christian living section and of course worked my way through the fiction.  Among the many treasures I found a book called A Writer's Book of Days.   It's a book of writing prompts--one for each day.  I loved it so much I found the book at a bookstore and bought it.  I've had it ever since and have gone through periods of time where I faithfully write a page per day.  Today's prompt was to write about a scent.  The idea is to grab the first image that comes to you and just write without thinking too much.  Eventually, what you want to say will turn up on the page. The first image I had was very distinct. About a year after I had move to California, I'd been laid off of my horrible job and was working as a temp at a medical research

At least I hope it is.  I have just three weeks to go until baby Olson arrives (assuming she's on time) and I can not wait!  On the one hand, I'm very excited to hold my baby and finally give her a name.  I can't wait to snuggle her and love her and put her in all of the adorable clothes we have.  Take a million pictures, introduce her to the world and celebrate her first set of holidays.  All that stuff. On the other hand, I really just want my body back!  It's so true what they say--you forget all of this stuff after babies are born.  I had vaguely remembered how much I dreaded nights.  The waking every three or four hours to go to the bathroom.  How much it hurts getting in and out of bed.  How much I miss sleeping on my back and just how many pillows I require to even lie down at all.  It sounds counter intuitive but I really want to have this baby so I can get some rest! I miss my morning runs!  I never really thought I would.  I've been walking but even th

I'm reading this book, the Husband's Secret .  The jacket cover was so compelling!  A woman finds a letter addressed to her from her husband that she is to read in the event of his death...but he's still alive! Somehow, this letter affects not only her, but two other women that she barely knows.  Wow!  What a premise!  I have to read this! Um, no. Sadly, these characters are completely unsympathetic.  I don't like the woman who's daughter was murdered 20 years before.  I don't like the woman who's husband has left her because he's fallen in love with her cousin.  I don't mind the woman who found the letter but I don't really care about her either.  The only person I can identify with and feel defensive towards is the daughter-in-law.  She's a career woman who has a wonderful opportunity that will move her and her family from Australia to New York.  Her mother-in-law is angry because she's taking the grandson away.  Sorry, lady, I don&

My dad’s 58 th birthday is coming up.  I had to sit and think about how old my dad will be because in my mind, he’s always about 35.  (Grandma is 42 and I’m just now 26).  But whether he’s 35 or 58 or 110, I have to say I have the coolest dad ever.  I mean, like EVER.  And not just that he’s a great dad (‘cause he is).  But my dad is REALLY cool.  Growing up, dad was always into music.  He was a drummer and had always had an eclectic musical taste.  He was a station flipper when we were in the car but liked a lot of different stuff.  I remember browsing through his CD’s for some of the stuff that my friends and I were listening to.  He had Pearl Jam and Stone Temple Pilots before I did.  He had Enya before Enya was cool.  The best present I ever got my dad was tickets to see Stomp.  I remember walking from my dorm room in college down to the Fox Theater to buy the tickets for Christmas.  My older brother and I decided to go in on the gift and as I carried them home, I couldn’

I was meeting with a prospective donor yesterday and after we had discussed our work business, the conversation turned casual.  My colleague who'd come along with me is engaged.  I'm clearly quite pregnant.  We chatted about such matters and  he revealed that he'd had two failed marriages, one of which resulted in a teenage son.  His son, he said, was getting ready to go off to college.  This man's advice to his son was that no matter what you may think you're feeling, you will NOT discuss getting married to anyone until you're at least 26 and you've lived together for two years. We shared a laugh and my colleague said that she'd spend enough time with her fiance (they'd dated for more than five years) to be sure that this would work out.  While I respect the opinions of both of them, I could not help but disagree.  Nick and I didn't live together before we got married.  And we never fight.  Both of my companions were shocked at this news.  Our

I was reading this chapter of the Bible tonight, working my way through the book.  It starts out with this guy and his wife, Ananias and Sapphira.  They have this farm or some kind of land that they are to sell and give the money to Peter.  They do this but don't give him all of the money.  It seems to be one of those Adam and Eve type situations except that this time, it's him that does the sinning and her that says "yeah, sure I agree with that". Well, somehow, Peter finds out about this and just goes off on the guy.  He accuses him of lying not to Peter but to God.  What a horrible thing to do!  Don't lie to God!  Everyone knows better than that.  Well, when Ananias hears this, he falls down and dies!  Then Peter lays into Sapphira, accusing her of the same thing and promising her the same fate.  Then she falls down and dies! Wow!  Don't cross God!  Other people hear about this and are freaking out!  They don't dare lie to God and presumably, are sp

A couple of years ago our computer crashed.  We had a few moments of panic because ALL of the pictures of our kids were on that computer.  Thankfully it was recoverable but the computer was toast.  Since that happened, we've been determined to diversify our photo portfolio.  As we were looking through a thousand or so pictures of our babies we saw the last nearly eight years scroll by, one scene at a time.  We saw our first Christmas after we got married.  We saw Chicago and remembered all of the places we took Ivy when she was just weeks old.  We saw Nick's first class of flight students and the last day we saw Jean-Claude.  We saw Iris grow from the baby she was to the little girl she is.  We saw the family trips and the moves from state to state.  We watched are lives go by and even though it feels like a flash, we're so excited to do it all over again with the next baby.  She'll start her life here but who knows where we'll be in another eight years?  That