We’re at the halfway point with the C25K… which really isn’t a halfway point since we won’t stop running once we reach the end of the program. (At least I hope we won’t. What a horrible waste that would be!) I call it the halfway point, though, since we’re now running for the same amount of time that we’re walking. After our six days this week, we’ll be running MORE than we’re walking. Actually, I think in a couple of weeks, we’ll actually be running more than the C25K calls for, since the program starts building towards triathalon training, which I’m not doing, seeing as how I can’t swim. (Could I dog paddle my way through a triathalon?)
All that said, I guess we’re not at a halfway point. Is there a halfway point? Regardless, we feel like we’re accomplishing something. Yay for accomplishing something! We ran a mile and a quarter in fifteen minutes tonight, which is certainly not lightning speed, but you should be impressed, seeing as how Wes was pushing the double stroller. And seeing as how I survived.
I recently completed a Christmas project I was working on. I know — Christmas! I had a great idea for some Christmas gifts this year and got right on it right after Easter. I finally finished up the gifts last week before we left for the wedding. I would love to write all about it, but the ones getting the gifts are blog readers. (Message me if you aren’t family and want to know!) And with that, half of our Christmas shopping is done. In July! Love it!
Now that I have that out of the way, I’m working on typing up all of Wes’s old sermons so that we have electronic copies of them all. Wes never preaches the same sermon twice, which I love about him. He does, however, preach the same books of the Bible again and again, which he would have to do over a long career in the pastorate, obviously. We began dating and then married in 2004, while Wes was at Handley Baptist in Fort Worth, preaching at Arlington Villa Nursing home. While we were there, he preached the book of Romans. In 2006, he became pastor of Central Baptist in Okinawa. While we were there, he preached the book of Romans. Earlier this year, he became the pastor of Western Heights here in Duncan. Already, in our seven short months here, he has preached the book of Romans. Now, none of the congregants at any of these churches have heard him preach the book of Romans more than once… but I’ve heard him preach through it THREE times in three years. Not complaining, just making an observation. As I’m typing up old sermons, it’s funny to compare his notes from back then to his notes now. His doctrine and theology hasn’t changed, but his presentation of it has. It’s all gotten better and better. And I thought it was great back then! I can’t wait to hear him preach fifty years from now. On the book of Romans, of course.
I had a nightmare in between Ana and Emma’s birthdays last week. I had given birth on the 24th to one baby, so when I came in to deliver the second baby two days later on the 26th (were they twins?), the doctor told me that I should know what to do since I had just been there. She started busying herself cleaning utensils in another area of the delivery room, while I looked down and saw the back of the cleanest, roundest, prettiest head ever, just magically delivering itself without any pain to me at all. I told the doctor, “Oh! What do I do now?!” She said, “Take a deep breath, you’re starting to panic!” (Which is exactly what my OB in Japan told me when Em’s head was out and I was still screaming about not having an epidural. Ha!) I took a deep breath, and the head disappeared. Just went right back into the womb! I woke up kinda freaked out about it all. I think I’m done having children.
I got a haircut last week that I pretty much hate. It wasn’t the hairdresser’s fault. It was mine. I couldn’t figure out how the layers were cut last time, and I was overly enthusiastic about making it “short” and “chopping it all off” when I hopped into the chair. I left, still optimistic and feeling that I could surely make it look decent with a blow dryer and some effort… but all optimism has left me a week later. Oh, well. It’s hair. It will eventually all grow out again, right?
Ana has somehow learned English. I’m having little snippets of conversations with her these days, amazed by the new words she spouts off. She’s not rattling off perfect sentences yet, but there’s a significant difference in her responses and in her comprehension. If I ask her where Papa is, she’ll say, “There he IS!” And if I ask her where her feet are, she’ll say, “There they ARE!” Subject-verb agreement! Who taught her that!?!
Emma took her first real steps yesterday, stumbled, and hit her chin on a table while doing it. Yeah, that’ll encourage her to keep trying, won’t it? She wasn’t holding onto anything while taking those steps yesterday, but today, she’s needed some extra assurance and has held onto my hand while walking all over the house. I’m not sure how much of her weight I’m actually supporting while doing this, though, so I had Ana come over, hold Emma’s hand, and walk with her this afternoon. (This way, Em was doing all the work, since Ana can’t support her weight… seeing as how Emma weighs more than she does!) Oh, be still my heart. My girls walked all over the living room together, holding hands and squealing. There were a few falls, what with Ana getting very excited and starting to try and run with Em, but still. How precious! (And for those who are interested, Ana took her first steps on July 28, 2007, the day we brought Emma home from the hospital. Em took hers on — you got it — July 28, 2008. Very special.)
I think that’s about it from here. Our garage door was finally installed today. No more dragging the trash can and the lawn mower through the living room. Hallelujah! (Though if that’s the biggest inconveinence I have, then I should count myself lucky. Really!)