Baby Smith

Meet the first of the next generation of Smiths. This is my niece/nephew, Justin and Molly's baby. I got these pictures Friday and it basically set the mood for the rest of my weekend. I am not sure if I have any friends that haven't seen these pictures. Tell me that this is not the cutest little person you have ever seen! The baby is due July 15 and, thanks be to God, so far everything is going really well!

Molly said that when they were taking the ultrasound on Friday, the baby wouldn't stop moving. Also, everytime the screen slid past the baby's face, the mouth was going. Sounds like it's taken after the Daddy's family. But it did get Molly's long legs, so the baby will probaby be tall. That's really good! At one point during the ultrasound, Molly felt a really strange sensation and the nurse quickly put the ultrasound on the spot, only to see the baby, who was apparently getting a little stuffy, stretch its leg straight out. The nurse got an adorable picture of the baby's foot!

Molly and Justin are so excited. Although, I must say that it didn't take the ultrasound to get my brother excited. He's been very diligent about keeping me updated in regards to feeling the baby kick! Apparently the baby's been doing a lot of that.

The profile of the baby did make me think. I mean, look at that picture. The lips, the nose, the ear. You can see so much. It's so obviously a baby. How, then, does a doctor look at that and say that it's not a human? How does a doctor look at a picture like that and then destroy the baby? I don't understand. For me, I looked at that picture and tears welled up in my eyes. What a miracle that is! A little person in Molly. Molly really put it in perspective over Christmas when she said, "It's two souls in one body." How simple and profound...and so true! But, I guess that's what so perverted about evil is that it doesn't make sense.

I do ask you to keep the family in your prayers. While it's good that things are going so well right now, it's also good to keep them that way!

I am alive!

Ok, so why is it that God makes us get sick when we have the least time for it? I think, in my case at least, that He does it to spice up the sitcom in which I star. Whatever the reason, Friday afternoon found me in bed, finally admitting defeat against the current plague which until then I had been "fighting off."

You have to at least praise my optimism. I mean, many of my friends who also caught the plague immediately admitted defeat and thus lost several days' time in the process. I, however, stubbornly (as only my friends can tell you) refused to fall under the strain of a flu. I failed. But, I made a valiant strike against it. From Tuesday through half of Friday, I stood strong, looking illness in the face and scoffing. But I think I got too close because I ended up getting ill, anyway, For safety reasons, when scoffing in the face of illness, stand at least five feet back. Germs can jump.

And it's not like I had time this weekend to get sick. On Friday night, I was planning to go to Christy's lovely event at her home with most of my dearest friends. I was so excited about being able to just get to spend quality time with my favorite girls in the whole world. And despite my loss against the plague beast, I was planning on going anyway. But, alas the voice of my dear mother in my head told me to stay in bed.

It's a good thing, too, because when I woke up the next morning, I could swear the plague monster had burned me over a roasting fire and then promptly shoved a lighted torch down my throat. This would have been quite enough to take under my metaphorical belt, but I also had to host Saint Genesius Night later that evening. I could barely function, and I had to perform? But, by the grace of God, I was able to. Apparently, I did a good job. I can't remember most of the evening.

The rest of the weekend and all day Monday, I lay in bed. I was a very good girl...and very lonely. I hate being sick because, being such a social being, I have to hide myself away and become a recluse. During sicknesses like these, I am grateful because they remind me of two things. First, that people, despite how annoying some of them can be, are nice things to have around. They are fun to talk to and interaction is vastly under-rated. It also reminds me where I'm not called. While God hasn't completely clued me into where He eventually wants me, I do know that He doesn't want me in the cloistered convent.

So, despite hacking my lungs out and sometimes wondering if my head looks like the faucet that it is acting like, I am up on my feet and carrying on. That nasty monster may have wrecked my weekend, but I stand strong. And next time I will stand five feet away when I scoff...

A Defense of Journalism

I have often been skeptical of journalists in one respect. They all are very stubborn, nosy people. They push and ask and talk until you think you'll get sick. I often wondered what in the world fueled this hunger. Now I know.

I love how God does sends several things, which at first glance seem completely unrelated. But once started upon, these tasks or events suddenly have some common purpose. This semester I have decided to be a staff writer and proof-editor for the Rambler. An avid writer, I'm always looking for ways to practice my first love. This seemed like such a clear way to do this. And then, I was drawn to clean the Kevin's cemetery. Two completely unrelated tasks? No, because not only is the cemetery clean and lovely (thanks to five wonderful people who are named in my article), but I have written an article for the paper on this very topic.

I hope to post it on my blog when I mail the article to John on Thursday night. I was thoroughly interested in what the story was behind the couple in the graveyard. I had an insatiable hunger to find out everything I could concerning their story. I can't even begin to count the people with whom I spoke about the Wrights. After numerous searches on the internet and many conversations with faculty and staff, I finally found their story. And what a beautiful story!

But that is not my point. I could suddenly see why journalists seems like such pushy people! I mean, I was so interested in this that my poor friends must have heard me talk about the article and story hundreds of times. But I was fueled by a strong desire to find the story of these forgotten people. I yearned to find their story and bring it to the poeple. I wanted to share the lives of a past time with today's students.

And I did. The article will be in next week's Rambler. I am so excited about all of this. From the help with the cemetery to the awesome story I found, I can see why journalists get so excited. So, read the my article in next week's Rambler and go pray for the Wrights. It's quite a nice little spot, if I say so myself.

The Joy in a Freak Out

I have decided that life is more fun when you intentionally try to freak people out. Now, it's important to stipulate what kind of "freak out" I mean, as there are several kinds. Obviously, you don't want to go over the top, as this might cause someone to have a coronary. These coronaries are not God's way. However, as long as you do not cause any lasting damage as regards to the reaction, any kind of freaking a person out can be quite an enjoyable past time.

For example, I really freaked my sister out last night. Upon some advice from Ted concerning recurrent nightmares I've been having, I borrowed a bottle of Holy Water before bedtime to bless myself. The kind lender suggested I also sprinkle some on my bed. Well, Emily had no idea what I was doing when I promptly went into my room and began dousing my bed with the lovely stuff. She stopped typing on the computer and looked at me like I was the latest exhibit at the zoo. "What are you doing??" she asked. I told her about my nightmares, which only served to freak her out more, and slowly she looked away to her paper and began typing again. I think she's worried that I'm possessed or something.

I was on the recieving end the day before. At lunch Wednesday, I had asked Ted if she wanted to work out that afternoon. She was going to come up and get me after her adoration. Well, I was diligently cleaning room and, since no one was on the hall, I was alone. On my way into the bathroom to throw some trash away, Ted came up the stairs. A pretty normal activity, I must say. But, I was so startled that I sank to the ground. Kudos to Ted, who didn't even have to try

A key tenet of this pastime is the phrase which my dear mother taught me. If you ask stupid questions, you deserve stupid answers. I am a firm believer in this philosophy. When we were leaving Kansas, the packers had to park the truck right in front of the house. Now, the whole time we were there, I thought we were the sole populators of Kansas, which worried me about what was going to happen after we left. But, low and behold, as we are leaving, suddenly there were other human beings. They all took great pleasure in skipping over to the house to excitedly ask us if we were moving. Now, think about the circumstances. A huge moving truck parked outside of our house and our yard covered in boxes waiting to be put on the truck. Were we moving? No, we told them. We just wanted to see how our stuff looked on the truck.

Earlier last semester, Emily and I pulled off an excellent stunt. One night, when we were in our room, we plotted. Knowing that Ted was in Niki's room across the hall watching a movie with her, Emily worked up some tears and went tearing into the room. Niki and Ted became instantly concerned. Emily took Niki out into the hall and began crying to her about how she couldn't live with me any longer. I was too overbearing and played my music too loud. (At this point, due to our telepathy, I turned my music up louder, which only served to add to the grand effect). At this moment, Ted came into the hall to see if everything was ok. Hearing her arrival, I picked up Emily's suitcases in the room, tore my door open, and chucked them out the door, yelling that she was no longer a member of that room. Emily turned and began yelling, too. I have never seen quite those expressions and colors on Niki's and Ted's faces. Emily and I burst into laugher. You can imagine their reactions. It was glorious.

So, this is why freaking people out is one of my favorite hobbies. Not only does it give me a lasting joy, but it brings smiles to those around me. The victims aren't always smiling, but the surrounding people always find the event quite amusing. And so far, I haven't caused any damage. I'm tame compared to my older brother, who, during his time at Christendom, had a girl sobbing outside his window while he gave an evil laugh inside his room. Maybe it's genetic. But, whatever it is, it's great fun and I highly recommend it. Hearing other people scream, shreak, and run after you is a great stress reliever, for them and for you. Just watch out, sometimes the bruises take awhile to heal. And don't say I didn't warn you.