The Day After Mother's Day

Let me just start off by saying that I had a wonderful Mother's Day weekend. On Saturday I slept in, was cooked for, wore a beautiful Mother's Day crown, was given lovely written, drawn, and verbal messages of love and appreciation, enjoyed a living room picnic (because a violent thunderstorm eliminated the outdoors as an option), ate banana cream pie, and watched home videos, all with Ramsey and the kids. Sunday included a cookout with the in-laws and a walk down to my mother-in-law's childhood swimming hole (which my kids ended up putting to good use in spite of not having brought swim suits)and a visit with my parents. Rams and I ended the weekend chilling on the couch with a movie after the kids went to bed.

This weekend, we took pictures like this one.

And this one.

And this.

It was a great weekend.



Yesterday was Monday.

I started the day off on the right foot by burning breakfast- not productive. I followed that up with successfully getting through to a health insurance representative and getting the information that I needed- productive. I then spent the next three hours ignoring the housework that had piled up over the weekend, and scanned 522 old family slides onto an SD card, instead- a productivity draw.

I discovered that two of my children (who shall remain nameless) had been engaged in some intentional deceit and disobedience over a period of a couple of weeks. I preached a message involving the verse "your sins shall find you out" and doled out the consequences (loss of friend, movie, and computer privileges for the next 3-4 weeks. And extra math lessons on Saturdays.). I decided to stop assessing my day in terms of productivity.

Zuzu engaged me in the so delightful "happy-baby-stompy-dance", which involves holding each other's hands, stomping your feet, and grinning at each other with glee, then wandered off in the direction of the bathroom.

A few minutes later, I disovered that someone had left the bathroom door open. I fished the baby's hands out of the toilet, then washed her off and changed her clothes.

I fished two game pieces out of the baby's diaper, then washed them off and sanitized them.

About this time, I realized the direction the day was heading and began to take pictures to record it for posterity.

(The none-the-worse-for-the-wear game pieces.)

I called Ramsey at his office to congratulate him on what a productive day he was having. When I hung up eight minutes later, I found this:

and this:

I developed a strong craving for chocolate pudding.

A very strong craving.

Throughout all of this, my four old-enough-to-know-better children were behaving like hooligans. And the baby lost her pants. And one sock.

I decided to make supper.

Ramsey, who had arrived home from work somewhere around the middle of the pudding making, took the four hooligans and the baby outside to burn off some energy while supper cooked.

Aviva popped back inside to bring me this:

She and Gideon both also informed me that I was the best Mommy ever.


I was pulling supper out of the oven out of the driveway to pick up the pizza when Ramsey and the kids headed back into the house because the baby had gotten hit in the head by the tire swing. While a sibling was receiving an underdog.


Everyone survived supper (including the baby, who was also none the worse for the wear) and all of the children went straight to bed, without chocolate pudding which was still chilling in the fridge.

Ramsey and I sat down at the computer to view the 522 slides that had been scanned, and to eat chocolate pudding (which had finished chilling soon after the kids were put to bed).



All in all, not a bad day.

The Nap

There is an interesting phenomenon that occurs during the course of any given day at the Tripp Academy for the Exceptionally Brilliant, and I've heard from other homeschooling mothers that it's a common one. I get sudden attacks of narcolepsy, just about five minutes after I sit down on the couch to listen to my child read. Something about hearing a young, halting voice drone on about "Tommy Fox" and "Mr. Gray Squirrel" makes it almost impossible to keep my eyes open, and often the only thing that keeps me from drifting off completely is my recurring, involuntary head bobbing that snaps me back to partial wakefulness every ten seconds or so.

Today's reading session happened to take place during the baby's naptime. Today also happens to be overcast and rainy, and I was also feeling especially unmotivated to get any housework done. So when the reading quota had been met, I announced to all within earshot that Mommy was going to "take a quick nap while the baby is still asleep. Do not disturb!"

Obviously this plan was optimistic at best and just plain looking for trouble at worst.

Over the course of the next twenty minutes, I was repeatedly reminded of why I do not nap. As soon as I made my nap declaration, my five year old cheerfully requested to take a nap with me, then squeezed her cute little skinny self (and her mangy special blankie) next to me on the edge of the couch. As it turned out, she was the only one that didn't disturb my "nap" (rest?).

The first couple of minutes went well. I conked out pretty much immediately. In fact, I enjoyed a full thirty-seven seconds of blissful slumber before my seven-year-old made an unwise decision.

He stood over me. "Mommy." I woke up but kept my eyes closed, hoping that if I looked asleep, he'd realize his mistake and would tiptoe quietly away. "Mommy." I opened my eyes and looked at him. I asked him if he remembered that only two and a half minutes ago, I had specifically told them that I was going to take a nap and was not to be disturbed. He did. "So this must be extremely important, then," I said. It was, vitally. He wanted a snack.

Less than five minutes later, my eight-year-old set out to prove that "if we don't learn our history, we are doomed to repeat it" by insisting on asking me if she could play on the computer. Like her brother's before her, her request was denied.

While I was still speaking to the eight-year-old, my husband arrived home from the half-day job he'd been at. He gasped as he walked in the door- "Are Mommy and Aviva sick?!"

Turned out Ramsey had work news to share with me. He was on his way again soon, but by that point the nap was pretty much ruined. I had lost the sleepiness, also some guilt over the fact that I was lounging on the couch while Ramsey was off working hard at providing for our family was beginning to set in (either that or the fact that I'd been caught red-handed). I hung in there though, determined to cling to the last shredded bit of this nap, if only for the principle of the thing. The ten-year-old thought pretending to fling his pencil at his sister instead of doing his hand-writing lesson was a fun idea. The target, plastered up against my back, screeched and hid under her ratty blankie. I told the kids that the next child to disturb my nap would get to take their own nap after lunch, then rolled over and shoved my face into the couch cushion.

Rustling noises began to be heard from the direction of the baby moniter, followed by the sweet little voice of my fifteen-month-old, "Mama... Mama..." I sighed and got up off the couch. As I headed for the stairs, my five-year-old gleefully dove into the warmly imprinted cushion that I had just vacated, declaring, "Now I'm going to take a nap on the whole couch!"

"Good luck," I told her.

"Chloe"

So. The fact that I'm breaking the silence after taking a, um, blog sabbatical for the better part of a year should indicate that what I have to say now is pretty important. It really, really is. In fact, for one precious baby girl, it could make all the difference. For her, it could make the difference between a childhood spent without a family, in an orphanage, only to age out of the orphanage to an adulthood of even bleaker prospects- or a lifetime of being cherished by a family who will love her and nurture her great potential. I'm not trying to be melodramatic, but the fact is that this is the reality of Chloe's* situation, as well as the fact that it only takes the one right person to hear about her that could make all the difference for her. Please pray and consider if you are that person, or, if not, please at least pass on the link to this blog or the link to Chloe's profile to anyone you think might possibly be interested, post them on your websites and facebook, etc. Thank you for any help you can give to advocate for this little one!

Chloe is currently waiting for a family in an orphanage in SE Asia. The following is how her adoption agency profile describes her:

"ID: G10_178
DOB: 12/4/2009

This amazing little girl came into care in August 2010. She had been living with her birth family who decided to relinquish her due to economic reasons and as they were unable to provide her with the proper care due to her special needs. She was born at 38 weeks and weighed 4.86 lbs and was 16.9 inches long. She was born with phocomelia possibly due to exposure to thalidomide. She has deformities of all of her limbs and is missing one arm. Since coming into care, she undergoes physical therapy for 2 hours a day, 5 days a week. She has been making remarkable progress. She does have developmental delays due to her disability, but her caregivers report that this does not limit her ability to function and enjoy her life. She is able to use her arm and feet in a functioning manner and also uses her mouth to play with toys. She is able to roll over, but is not yet able to sit unassisted. Her caregivers have nicknamed her cute little one in her native language and describe her as a delightful, bright and creative little girl. She also has a urogenital malformation. She enjoys individualized attention and is also interested in strangers. She is attached to her caregiver and makes good eye contact. She also smiles brightly when she enjoys something. She currently jabbers and engages with her caretakers in baby talk. She is not yet speaking words, although her caregivers believe that this may be due to the fact that her birth family spoke a different dialect than they do in the childcare center. They do believe that she understands what is being said to her. She also enjoys listening to music. This charming little girl is in need of a special family who is comfortable with her special needs and is able to provide her with the care and therapies that she needs to reach her full potential.

To adopt this child there must be no more than 40 years age difference between the younger parent and the child. Families with 0-2 children preferred, though additional children in the home may be eligible on a case-by-case basis for a child with significant special needs. See country criteria for complete requirements."

I'm not able to post pictures of Chloe here, but this is the link to her profile which includes photos- http://www.holtinternational.org/cgi/photolisting/display.cgi?ID=G10_178&Index_re=7

For anyone seriously interested in adopting Chloe, the following is the link to the adoption agency which represents her- http://holtinternational.org/


*Not her real name.

Writer's block brain dump

I'm about to do something I've never done before.

I'm about to post the very first draft of something I've written. I never do that- I open a Word doc, I write my first draft over the course of a day or two or three. I rewrite it. I polish it. I re-check it. I do not post it until I am truly happy with it and ready for the world to see it.

The following post was written in the last five minutes and can only be considered a stream of consciousness that I blurted out because I'm tired of not writing and not posting. Here you go, Mom, this is what the first draft looks like.


I have so many thoughts swirling around in my head- possibilities for writing- but none of them land long enough to get a firm grasp and wrangle it into submission. They stay just out of reach. They all seem worthy of spending time on but what do I really want to write about? The thought occurs to me to write a book. I really do think I have enough topic to fill one but I just don’t have the time, motivation, organization (and maybe courage?) to really tackle that project. And, besides, what exactly would the focus of that book be? I’ve led a fairly interesting life but I’m only 30 (for two more weeks, but for now I’m 30!) Doesn’t it seem a bit preposterous and arrogant to write an autobiography at the age of 30? At the very least it would have to be a work in progress, or volume one. And I just don’t think I would know where to start… I need something more manageable. Smaller. Or someone to plan it for me and tell me, “now do this”.

A novel is not even a consideration. I have no interest in reading most novels, “grown up” novels, anyway, much less interest in writing one. Real life is so much more interesting.

I could write a book about our son. About his life and how we came to adopt him and how things seem to have come pretty much full circle, except that really, they haven’t.

I could write a book about my life. But should I start from the very beginning? Because that’s not really what I want the focus to be on, though there are a few points of interest along the way and those years shaped me to be the person that I am today, which would be the main point of the book.

What I would really want to focus on would be my life in recent years. About this journey that God’s been bringing Ramsey and I on. About how we’re learning about obedience and sacrifice and giving and turning the status quo on it’s head and freaking everyone else out. I guess that’s what I really want to write about. But I don’t know how to start… or how to finish… or all the part in the middle.

A Reacquaintance

I’m preparing to re-introduce running into my life. This introduction will be different from the previous introductions, I hope. This time running will not be demanding and brash, as it was on our previous encounters. Instead, it will be genteel and well mannered, and will be welcomed.

In the past decade, I have run a number of times, mainly darting after small children to prevent various types of naughtiness. But, if you’re only counting actual “lace up your shoes and head out for a run” runs, I’ve been running twice in the last ten years. Every few years, that flame of inspiration is ignited and flares up, wildly. “I need exercise. I need to get in shape. I’ll start running tomorrow!” And I do. Both times that I’ve started running, the weather has been at an extreme. I head out the door, determined that I’ll run such and such small distance (because anything less would be wussy) and I’ll build up each day from there. I arrive home, stitches in my sides, gasping for breath around the ice shards in my lungs, declare, “That sucked!” and relegate my running shoes to day to day wear until the mood strikes me again 5 years later. The flame of inspiration flickers pitifully, and dies, killed by a single run.

I ran cross-country in junior high and high school. Then, my commitment to running lasted whole seasons. I enjoyed it, mainly for the social aspect of training with a group and the competitions. But I was, at best, mediocre. I came across the finish line somewhere in the middle of the pack every time and the last thing my gait could be called is graceful. In fact, two of my running mates mocked my stride. Richard told me I had chicken legs and then he and Aaron would run ahead of me, flinging their heels out to the sides as they ran. The infuriating thing was that, somehow, even while running the exaggerated caricature of my run, they were both still faster than I was so I had no choice but to watch them as I took up the rear.

This time, however, running is behaving like a gentleman. Instead of barging in as a flash in the pan idea of my own, running knocked at the door in the form of a suggestion from my sister and only entered the room when I invited it in after considering the idea for a couple of weeks. Instead of grabbing my arm, hauling me out the door, and insisting that I go, right now, running has gently suggested that I actually spend some time researching the best way to start and that I form a plan. And, instead of cracking a whip and chasing me down the sidewalk right off the bat, running will simply be accompanying me on casual strolls for the first couple of weeks as I ease in gradually.

So you see why I’m hopeful that this time running and I will be able to form a meaningful and lasting relationship. I look forward to the many physical, mental, and emotional benefits that I can expect to experience from my participation in this alliance. And, as a little extra insurance to make sure I stay committed long enough to actually reap said benefits, I’ve registered and paid the entrance fees for three summer 5Ks. I’ll let you know how it goes.

A Joyous Announcement!

Just a brief post to assure my blogworld friends that I haven't dropped off the planet or abandoned my blog. I apologize that it's been so long since I've posted. Here I was, posting away a mile a minute on my brand new little blog, then- ZIP! Silence. I've had a number of fairly significant events going on in my life over the last couple of months which have required my time and attention to be focused elsewhere. I won't share most of them here except for the biggest and most exciting news...

The birth of my little daughter, Zuzu Noelle!



Zuzu (yes, "Zuzu's petals" : ) was born at 11:06 p.m. on Tuesday, January 26th. She was born at home with my husband, mom, sister and our two midwives attending and she weighed 10 pounds and measured 21 inches. Big girl! And she's only gotten bigger...

So my time these days is taken up with feeding, diaper changes, and cuddles, with the odd load of laundry and sinkful of dishes thrown in when I get a chance. Any time spent at the computer is generally in the form of brief snatches, and my typing mostly consists of one handed chicken pecking. Once we graduate to a more regular sleeping schedule, I hope to be able to post with more frequency. I'll have plenty to share, I'm sure! : )

A Departure from the Usual-

Ahem. May I please direct your attention to the widget bar on the right hand side of this page? Just below this blog's introductory text, and just above my followers widget and adsense ads- yup, there it is. "Articles for Sale By Kristin Tripp".

This is a pretty minor, baby step in my writing but I'm excited about it so you get the unparalleled pleasure (I am sure) of hearing about it. For the first time in my life, someone has actually accepted something that I have written and has not said, "this is good and it's going to be a best seller", but at least has said, "this is acceptable enough that I think someone would be willing to pay a small amount of money for it to fill space on their website so I will post it for sale for potential buyers to browse and, hopefully, someday buy."

So you can see why I'm excited.

Anyway, the widget has been added to the side bar of my blog so that, should you be so curious, you can click on it and see what I have available for sale on constantcontent.com.

Also, if you wish to experience the unmistakable joy of submitting articles to Constant Content as well, sign up through this Constant Content referral link so that I get the unmistakable joy of receiving a small percentage of Constant Content's commission that they make on your sales.

So. Woohoo!