For those of you (and by you I mean us) who don't have plans for celebrating Labor Day, we will be hosting an end-of-summer bonfire.

Come and go throughout the evening as you like--we'll open the gates to the backyard around 4:30.

We have main dish, water and iced tea. So far friends have offered to bring stuff for s'mores, and potatoes to go with our main "dish" (weather permitting hot dogs on the fire, or weather not permitting chicken & pork chops on the grill).

Let me know if you're coming so I can prep enough main dish.

Never too old to play

This vintage playground equipment is at our new favorite beach location. We hope no one else ever finds out about this beach so we can keep it all to ourselves... mwoooo-haaaa-haaaaa.

Pride falleth before a picnic

Tonight we are hosting a neighborhood picnic. In our backyard. Because we are the only home on our side of the street with a playset in the backyard. And because the only two others willing to host it have experienced unexpected tragedies within the past week--one had her baby 2 months prematurely, and the other fell out of a tree and broke his wrist and hip and is in a wheelchair.

SO, Yesterday one neighbor dropped off all the food and paper goods. Another used his chain saw to cut the tree we felled last weekend into firewood, and another helped go get tables and a tent to erect.

Dan's worked his tail off power-washing the deck and we split the big job of mowing the lawn. I've got food prep well under control. I'll spend an hour cleaning the bathroom that nosey neighbors will "need" to use in order to come see our house, but we're not stressing about making everything perfect. We know our yard isn't a landscaper's dream and our house isn't spotless. But we're ok with both of those.

(We keep telling ourselves) What matters is that we are willing to make sure everyone gets a chance to be together over a bite. Lets hope all the bites are made into food, and not comments. We're anticipating lots of "advice" on improvements...and comments on weeds...and...and...and...oh well!

Know anyone amazing?

Do you know any amazing women making a difference that you could nominate for a $20k prize? If so, please nominate her for this Montel Williams voices program here.

I have indirectly been a recipient of one of these women. A nurse at the PPD support group I attend in downtown GR won this prize 6 years ago and is still using the $20k grant to provide books, resources, and massage therapy to the people who attend her group.

Most recent read

The Vicar of Wakefield by Oliver Goldsmith

My review:

Quaint. Querulous. Queer.
Charming. Disarming. Alarming.
Virtuous. Flirtuous.
Expressive. Repressive. Excessive.
Moral. Banal. Floral. Torrid.
Scandalous. Spectacular. Supercilious.

About the author: Oliver Goldsmith (November 10, 1730 or 1728 – April 4, 1774) was an Irish writer, poet, and physician known for his novel The Vicar of Wakefield (1766), his pastoral poem The Deserted Village (1770) (written in memory of his brother), and his plays The Good-natur'd Man (1768) and She Stoops to Conquer (1771, first performed in 1773).

(He is also thought to have written the classic children's tale, The History of Little Goody Two Shoes, giving the world that familiar phrase.)From Wikipedia the free encyclopedia.

Apology accepted?

I have more stuff to do than time to write these days, and if I ever get a few minutes to write, I'm doing it over here...check it out.

More later,
Jenna

What would you name it?

Wow! Full log home centered on a beautiful ten acre parcel only 5 minutes from Public Beach with low maintenance landscaping (some lawn, lots of dune grass). Full length covered porch overlooks pond. A public boat launch is just a couple miles away and there are bike paths that go for miles and miles. -- Park, and 2 other newer parks are very close for cross country skiing and hiking too. You really must see this remarkable property. This home would cost over $1 million to duplicate. Super energy efficient. High speed internet dish just installed. Exterior logs were just stained. Walkout lower level is finished and has extra storage and a workshop as well. You'll love the back sunroom off the dining area that can be turned into a screened porch overlooking the wooded back yard. There's a large back deck with hot tub off the master suite and many French doors for ample light.

Jenna-0, Bee-1

After hoisting our neighbor's magnanimously huge ladder up to the side of our house and getting it safely adjusted (after wedging one leg up on a wooden block--that's safe, right?), I intrepidly began to climb. I had a snow brush/ice scraper in one hand and a can of cheap-o bee spray in the other. I started banging around in the formerly bee-infested eave (we've been spraying it for 3 days now) and low and behold about 5 bees flew out. One stung me on my elbow--which I had instinctively raised in front of my face while squealing like a girl.

Now, you must know, my mother is deathly allergic to bees. She has to carry an Epi-pen bee sting kit with her at all times and administer a shot within 20 minutes of her sting in order for her throat not to close and suffocate her. I have wondered my whole life whether or not I would have to do the same.

Back to my stinging story. I checked my arm to make sure the bee and stinger weren't lodged in my arm, then my adrenaline kicked in. I decided that even if I only had 20 minutes left to live, at least I'd make sure the bees nest was taken care of. I ran inside the house, found some Children's Benadryl in the medicine cabinet and took a way-too-huge swig.

I decided that if I was gonna take one for the team, at least I'd finish the game and come out the winner. With the clock ticking, I went back outside to the ladder, and armed with Dan's bike flashlight in my mouth and his wooden hockey stick, I wreaked havoc on the bees nests. There were two bee nests each the size of salad plates that I scraped out of the eaves, picked up with tongs and tied up in plastic bags, then deposited in the garbage can. I climbed the ladder once more, sprayed the area again, then climbed down the ladder to find someone to tell about my fatal sting when I realized I was breathing just fine, a little tingly from the adrenaline (and Benadryl), but not headed for the grave just yet.

And now I understand why Dan dances, screams, and shouts when he gets a sting, and why they are called a sting, those things HURT! But at least there are a few hundred less bees in our neighborhood.

In all seriousness

Hi everyone,

God is definitely orchestrating the timing and placement of Life After Baby (LAB) support group. We are a Postpartum Support International (PSI) group, and so thankful to Ada Bible Church for allowing us to use their space to meet every 1st, 3rd, and 5th Monday of the month with the 1st Monday of every month especially organized as a "Family Night".

You are officially invited to our first meeting on Monday, August 6 at Ada Bible Church from 7-9pm. Ada's address is 8899 Cascade Rd SE, Ada, MI 49301. Nancy Roberts, RN from Spectrum Health who has founded the Spectrum Health "This isn't what I expected" support group has agreed to lead our first meeting. For comfort of new mommies with babies, we'll be meeting in the nursery, so access to rocking chairs, diaper changing, bottle warmers, sinks, bouncy seats, etc is right at our fingertips.

If you're an expectant mommy or daddy, we are especially excited to have you come and develop your support network before your little one arrives.

The purpose of this group is to provide an avenue for community, support, resources, education, and encouragement within the context of the truth of God's Word. Our mission is to help families cope with the stressful complications of welcoming new babies by providing a safe place for respectful sharing while maintaining utmost confidentiality in who attends and what is discussed.

There is no fee, no need to register, just come. Please spread this invitation to others you know who might benefit from LAB group. We are so thrilled to connect families to care and resources and help each other know that YES, there IS life after baby!

Cordially,
Jenna Scott

Jesus said "I have come that they might have life, and have it more abundantly."
John 10:10b

laughers?

Thought or said today:

"Don't pee on Pooh" (to Elli, in reference to her clean Winnie the Pooh sheet post-peeing on her previous sheet)

"Maybe we can just donate him to science" (in reference to Encore and no one's adopting him yet)

"For years I would avoid saying "Mac", bad high school/college dating relationship, and now all I do is spend time with one" (a Mac, not the bad high school/college dating relationship)

"Maybe Addi only loves daddy and she doesn't love you, that's why she won't say your name" (Wise words from Liam)

"Ooops, the poopies all fell on the floor" (CinderElli)

"...then we're heading out for a little bit before our dance lessons" (phone message from my brother Greg)

"Stop kissing your brother" (whisper-yelled so the neighbors wouldn't hear--Elli is very into kissing right now)

"His name is Green Magina Man" (Liam, naming a Blue's Clue's character while Dan and I try to keep a straight face and suggest a different name)

"God, I Iove you every day." (Liam at prayer time)

"Addi, no more toilet" (moi)

"Mom, I know how to spank myself with the paddle" (Liam to me)

"Mmmmmm...Dove Triple Chocolate Ice Cream Bar" (Addi...after eating half of mine)

"Ummm...who dumped water in the strawberry jam?" (Me, after discovering an inch of water poured on top of my cooling homemade jams)

"Ok, who put Parmesean Cheese in my water?" (Me again)

"Why is my iced tea all over the kitchen table?" (ditto)

"What is this floating in the water dispenser? Oh, a pretzel? Oh, OK." (jah...you got it)

"Why won't anyone go to sleep?" (me to the heavens)

Unloading

I just haven't been quite right since coming back from Africa. I can't seem to get anything in focus, I feel like I'm in a constant fog. I find myself staring off into space a lot. Not because of anything that happened there--no great epiphanies or anything.

Just maybe spending an entire week living simply. It was organic and authentic. We were deconstructed to the point where all we had was time, unencumbered by physical things or mental schedules we bind and masochate ourselves with.

I'd love to say we've rid ourselves of more "stuff", become more content, find beauty and peace in this place of abundant blessing, but it comes and goes in nauseating waves. And ironically I more often feel more sick at what we do have than what we don't, and long to purge and expunge what is making me feel so bloated and unwieldy in my spirit.

I open our fridge full of food and just don't feel like eating. I get angry tripping over the myriad toys and shoes left all over the house. The pile of laundry up to my shoulder and the constant dishwasher full of clean or dirty dishes. It's just too much. There's stuff everywhere. I feel claustrophobic and suffocated by stuff. By people. By interactions. By responsibilities. By culture. By church. By me. By sounds. By everything. By nothing. By you.

For 30 years I've been in the habit of amassing, defining who I am by what I have, what I'm doing, how busy I am, and I think I've come to the point where I realize I've just been gorging all these years. It's time to binge, shed some weight, keep what's healthy in my life and stop nicking a little nibble of each and every "good" thing I come across, and only choose to feast on the best that life has to offer. Stop filling every day and week with so many events and errands that when I don't have something scheduled I don't know what to do with mysellf and am uncomfortable with the quiet, the un-busyness, the isolation. To stop giving tiny little pieces of myself out to so many people that I'm not giving any substantial pieces to anyone--especially those who most deserve and need those big pieces of me right now.

On to the oh-so-deep often asked question, "what does this life of healthful simplicity and contentment look like"? Well, if I knew what that looked like, don't you think I'd describe it? Do it? Live it? Not be writing this post?

we make fire

this saturday night
new moon
old friends
new friends

Puts a smile on my face

How many dads can make their daughters smile like this and capture it on film? At a park in downtown Grand Rapids, by himself with all 3 kids, all of them having a wonderful time? Everything about this scenario and snapshot makes me smile from the inside out.

Aaaaaaaaaye, love a parade!

I count my growing up place as New Jersey. The house we lived in was just around the corner from the parade down main street. So my parents invited everyone from our neighborhood, church, and family for a 4th of July brunch on our massive brick patio before we would walk out to secure a length of curb from which to watch the parade.

The biggest excitement for me each year was "(1) who all is coming to brunch? (2) what can I wear to make me red, white, and blue from head to toe? (3) what shape will I carve the watermelon into this year?" [I was in charge of finding the water melon carving pattern, finding and purchasing the correct shape and size watermelon to carve as well as to cut up all the fresh fruit that would go into the carved watermelon].

My mom and I would mix up myriad egg strata casseroles, quiches, coffee cakes, and my dad would cook bacon and sausage on the grill. Of course there was the watermelon, and I'm sure there were--but I never noticed-- the bunch of baked goods that everyone else brought because my mom's cooking was so good why bother with anyone else's?.

Needless to say there have been many different 4th of July celebrations since these American Girl-type memories painted so vividly in my memory.

The past two 4th's have been especially effervescent for me. Last year we celebrated the Independence Day in Ohio with a rag-tag assortment of rarely-seen family. We got a true taste of old-time Americana as we walked past a family with their pet monkey settled in to watch the parade, the parade having to pause each time a train went over the tracks and cut off the next set of floats and bands, culminating with the parade turning around at the end of the street to come back down main street again--still throwing candy, waving, playing their hearts out 'cause in this town the parade ain't done 'til it's gone up and back again.

This year we packed our kids into our Burley and stroller and walked from our house up to the parade route. Liam's ears were ringing from all the noise (hence the hooded sweatshirt and hands clapped tightly over his ears), but how could your heart not melt at teeny-tiny little Elli wearing her "princess" rain coat and holding out her Easter basket in one hand to catch candy and waving like Miss America to absolutely every person who walked within 16 feet of her. And Addi in her red white and blue regalia with two red-ribboned piggy tails?
The "fun stuff" set up at Cascade library was indeed a blast for us--next year will be even more fun when Addi is a little more mobile. Elli and I enjoyed spinning our guts out on a carnie ride, then she and Dan slid down the BIG blowup slide, and she would've done every ride there but we were hungry and definitely in need of some grilled Ballpark Franks. But not before Liam and I had an adventuresome time in a lovely port-O-John.

I ransacked the library book sale (so did Heath--she filled a whole BOX!). All day I basically thoroughly enjoyed myself and my family, and reveled in silent thankfulness that I live here and now. Free. For that I am thankful and celebrate.

On July 2, 1776, John Adams wrote to his wife Abigail that the day "... ought to be commemorated as the day of deliverance, by solemn acts of devotion to God Almighty. It ought to be solemnized with pomp and parade, with shows, games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires, and illuminations, from one end of this continent to the other, from this time forward forever more."

I agree.

i don't have any words yet, just memories

Scott...Jenna Scott...

Packing our bags for Africa yesterday was like something out of a James Bond movie.

B, can you see what I'm carefully wrapping in a towel here? To be carefully stashed in the bottom of my bag, intentionally surrounded by and covered with innocent-looking packages of stickers, rubber bands, T-shirts, band-aids, Play-dough, toothbrushes, soccer balls, hand sanitizer, Tylenol, sock puppets, fabric, baby blankets, and so much more.

Our trip is partly to transport things to MCF--like some much-needed (and slightly illegal) medical supplies, computers to network a satellite connection so MCF is communicado,
clothing, Bible materials, hygiene products.

Last time ABC tried to get computers to MCF, customs demanded a "$700 fee" to let them through, or give them 1/2 the equipment we were trying to take through. Having to give up so much stuff to greedy "officials" was a tough lesson.

This time, we're being a lot more intentional about
our packing, and going through customs individually rather than in pairs or even worse an obvious group. We got a pep talk on playing "dumb", being courteous, brief, and stalwart as we go through customs with our loaded luggage so that we can get every single much-anticipated and highly-needed items to MCF.

I can so play the part of an international secret agent.......

between friends

e-mail to jeb earlier this afternoon:

Yay! I'm so proud of you driving stick! The drive to church is a TOUGH one--lots of hills--you should be really, really proud of yourself for accomplishing that! Thank you Lord for green lights all the way.

We drove from Cleveland yesterday morning, stopped home for an hour, then jetted back to church to pack our 50 pound duffel bags for the trip. The packing was exhilirating. I'm working on a blog post about it, so keep an eye.

I thought I'd be really handy and start dinner--boil the rice then turn the burner off to let it just sit and steam (and save energy), but I forgot to turn the burner off and smelled an acrid, smokey smell. So...now we're having salad for dinner--can't burn that, right? Oh my....life...

Has the laundry been softer w/out the fabric softener? Elli helped me do laundry today, which means she put in way more laundry soap than I ever do, and there were a few clothes with clumps of soap still on them. Partly my fault, though, too, for really loading up the washing machine. Oh well, they'll shake off when I give 'em a good snap after taking them off the line.

My mom arrives at noon tomorrow, I think I'll really be able to focus on packing, getting prepared for this trip (mentally), as well as getting a few more things for LAB organized before I go...I'm already getting calls, e-mails, and people asking what it's all about...here goes!

Jenna

mé·lange [mey-lahnzh, -lahnj] a mixture; medley.

"...who woulda thought...it figures..." (10pts)

known & unknown
dangerous & beautiful
scary & wonderful
harming & healing
sustaining & singeing

Swing kid

My relationship with Liam swings like a pendulum made of a spider's-silk strand.

There are times when his funny comments catch me just right and we laugh and giggle like two best friends.

Then there are times when he pierces my heart.

On days like today when he wakes up with a predetermination to wreak as much havoc in as many people's lives as he can. Baiting his little sister to do something naughty, tattling on her for a biting that never occured in hopes that we'll spank her so he can laugh at her berating, breaking a lamp and shattering the light bulb into dangerous shards all over the floor, just a spirit of general meanness.

My aching mind agonizes over what inside of him is so broken or so empty to cause him to choose such mean things as his way of escaping, assuaging his pain and confusion. I cry at not being able to get through to fix whatever is broken in his little spirit. My hugs, prayers, love, encouragement, teaching, agony doesn't seem to be enough.

But this one thing we have in common. He loves to swing, and although it tires me to the bone, I will keep pushing.