M, C, and N stayed with us for a night and we went out to eat at Red Lobster. It was fun to see my little nephew. Seems like he’s growing up so fast and he was jabbering away much more than even a few months ago at Christmas time. I was flabbergasted that he ordered crab legs from the kids menu and then proceded to actually eat them all!
But probably my most favorite thing of the night was when he started calling WE “Peter Sam” in honor of his favorite character in Thomas the Train!
WE and I are stoked to travel to Italy in September for our family vacation. We finally bought our flights this week (we got a great deal on American) and have decided on a basic itinerary. We’ll spend a few days in Rome, Florence, and then conclude with the Cinque Terre (pronounced ’Chinkwa Tera’). We fly into Rome and leave from Genoa.
Hopefully it will be a great mix of the busy cities, museums, and cathedrals – as well as the quieter countryside along the coast. Also, we plan to mix up our accommodations a bit – staying in some nicer hotels as well as give WE a little taste of European hostels (woot! woot!)
Who knows, maybe I’ll even convince him to go cliff jumping with me?!?
Here’s a little Rick Steves video about the Cinque Terre:
If anyone’s got any suggestions for us on ‘must sees’ in Rome or Florence – do share!
A few weeks ago in Sunday School, the topic was strengthening families. Someone made a comment about how one thing that was important to their family was that any time one of the kids had a musical or athletic event, the whole family would attend the event in support. They found that this time together was really valuable in building their family unity. Certainly celebrating each other’s wins together and mourning each other’s losses would build great sibling relationships.
I wholeheartedly agree.
This week I bought Natalie Merchant’s new album “Leave your Sleep.” She says on her website that she set out to capture the universal experience of childhood through music and poetry. I haven’t had a chance to listen to all the songs yet (there are 20!) but so far I really love the music.
There’s just something about the album that reminds me of when we were kids dancing around the family room to “Joy to the World.” I can’t remember the other records we used to play – but I remember that song and I remember standing on dad’s feet as he pranced around, swinging us round and round.
Probably my new favorite song on the album is a poem written in 1924 by Nathalia Crane – who at the time was only ten years old and experiencing her first boy crush….on a red-head!
“Oh I’m in love with the janitor’s boy,
And the janitor’s boy loves me;
He’s going to hunt for a desert isle
In our geography.
A desert isle with spicy trees
Somewhere near Sheepshead Bay;
A right nice place, just fit for two
Where we can live alway.
Oh I’m in love with the janitor’s boy,
He’s busy as he can be;
And down in the cellar he’s making a raft
Out of an old settee.
He’ll carry me off, I know that he will,
For his hair is exceedingly red;
And the only thing that occurs to me
Is to dutifully shiver in bed.
The day that we sail, I shall leave this brief note,
For my parents I hate to annoy:
“I have flown away to an isle in the bay
With the janitor’s red-haired boy.”
I’m in love with the janitor’s red-haired boy too!
My mom posted this picture on her blog today and it invoked some feelings worth blogging about.
(First, though, for anyone here in Dallas – I’m going to shamelessly advertise for a photographer friend at church. This photo reminded me of her recent blog post saying she’s offering mini-shoots in the bluebonnets and I love her work!)
This photo makes me happy and more specifically proud to be a Thompson. My name may have changed, but I still carry with me everything that these two are and are called.
Recently my dad reached out to me and WE to ask for some family advice. Not that I was surprised….but He’s still the patriarch (even though we’re all grown up and gone) and still considering the needs and desires of every last one of his kids. There are certain times when you pause for a moment and see your parents for who they really are - the people that sacrificed everything to get you to where you are today. Seeing this picture for some reason was one of those moments for me.
I’ve been working on this post ever since our 6 month anniversary when WE and I danced to our *newest song.
Don’t get me wrong - having lovingly labored over this post for more than 5 minutes doesn’t mean that it will be exponentially more insightful or clever than any of my other posts. But it does mean that this one means alot to me.
As I think back on the last year – my first year of marriage – it has been the happiest yet of my life.
Here are a few of the reasons I’ve found this year that Two is, in fact, Better Than One:
- Re-routing the GPS after a wrong turn is 10X easier when you are not simultaneously driving but rather have a designated navigator.
- PTO tends to be used more for adventurous vacations rather than catching up on sleep.
- Having someone to force more water down my throat when I’m sick
- A living space that is not a rental but our own with our very own fenced yard! (even if it is un-landscaped still) I realized this week that when we got married, I had spent a more than 1/3 of my life living in apartments with landlords and cleaning checks! Crazy. Now, I am my own cleaning check lady 
- Joint accounts and more responsible (transparent!) spending and savings.
- Always having someone fun to sit by at church on Sundays
- Graduating from the singles ward, period.
- Good excuse to try new things and to change old bad habits
- Magically made bed for me and magically clean clothes for WE
- Someone to push me to develop talents and skills I might not see in myself
- Goodbye and welcome home kisses!
- A good reason to dance in the kitchen
- Practice for retirement as professional B&B critics
- Holding hands at Thunderbird rollerskating
- Courtside tickets to the NCAA Bball tourney and twice the volume of Cougar cheers!
Thanks to WE for a fantastic first year! Can’t wait for the many more to come!
(*Don’t worry, we haven’t ditched ‘Someone to Fall Back On’ – but in this era of digital playlists and mobile, downloaded hits…I’m pretty sure we can claim more than one as our own)
After a week of surprises and snow days, I just want to say here’s to My Valentine!
I love you way past the moon, WE!
I’ve been on hiatus from blogging for the winter But now that I’m back I want to hit you with a big one. As I like to put it, “Go big or go home!”
Over the past month, I’ve had something on my mind and I’m going to try and put it in words. I want to write about God as a Father. I haven’t written much about religion on my blog – not because it’s not important to me but it’s sometimes fairly difficult to verbalize – especially to the impersonal, faceless land of bloggerdom. But I’m going to try and if anyone reads this, I hope they have a chance to pause and consider their own understanding of God (existence, attributes, character, role, etc.) as I have had the chance to do the last few weeks.
This all started one morning when I was listening to NPR on the radio (as I often do) on my way to work. Only this time, I was struggling to see the road as my eyes welled up with water. I was listening to a detailed report about the death toll in Haiti and the destitute survivors left to fight for food and shelter. I heard about tens of thousands of bodies piled in the streets and chaos everywhere. I asked myself – where is God in all this?
That night, WE and I went on a date to the DSO. As if my morning wasn’t enough, we then experienced Franz Schmidt’s Symphony No. 4, otherwise known as “A Requiem for my Daughter.” Schmidt, a widower, wrote this haunting piece shortly after the death of his only daughter – who died unexpectedly giving birth to a grandchild. Almost as a metaphor for life, the piece starts how it ends with the mourning cry of the trumpet. In between, there’s 40 minutes of beautiful orchestra – nonetheless heavy, including a more upbeat funeral march in the middle.
I don’t necessarily blame anyone who may at some time wonder if there is a God. And if so, why so much pain and suffering? What could be so great about life for the innocent child who just lost his mother and father? Surely, if God exists, what I’m experiencing now must be punishment because an all-powerful Being could have stopped this from happening, right? And if God loved me, wouldn’t He have made some way to stop this?
Last Saturday, I attended a baptism of a 16-year-old girl I know. She had decided that she wanted to enter the waters of baptism and thus, be associated with the name of Christ promising to her unseen God a life different that the one she had lead up until then. I asked myself – what made her want such a drastic change and commitment? Could this be one of the most proud and happy moments a Father in Heaven could have for his trusting child? After the ceremony as the guests waited for her to finish changing into dry clothes, we listened to an audio clip about Jesus Christ. It covered the ministry, final week, and resurrection. I found online a portion of the clip that seemed to be etched in my mind as I listened:
In that most burdensome moment of all human history, with blood appearing at every pore and an anguished cry upon His lips, Christ sought Him whom He had always sought–His Father. “Abba,” He cried, “Papa,” or from the lips of a younger child, “Daddy.”
This is such a personal moment it almost seems a sacrilege to cite it. A Son in unrelieved pain, a Father His only true source of strength, both of them staying the course, making it through the night–together.
I remember my mission president kneeling in prayer with me and offering up to God his desires in Bulgarian. President Johnson rarely used the formal word for Father – rather he preferred to say ’татко’ – meaning ‘Papa’ especially mid-sentence when he seemed to be pleading more than just asking.
I came to the conclusion that some children trust their parents and some parents trust their children. This trust allows for the relationship to withstand it’s fair share – and it’s trust, or faith, or hope, or whatever-you-want-to-call-it that allows us to make it through the night together.
