should men be romantic when the calendar calls for it?

Source: bejust-fearnot.tumblr.com via Suzie on Pinterest

Thanks for all the comments about the DIY Valentine's gift I made for Hawk--now  you just have to do more of them on the blog itself:) And a few of you asked what Hawk did for me.

Nothing. And it got me thinking.

Because I didn't mind, I wasn't surprised, and I wasn't the least bit disappointed. He knew a few days in advance that I was making him a gift, and he received everything early that morning. I made a yummy steak and balsamic-soaked strawberry dinner, too.

But I didn't do these things because they would be reciprocated. I did them because I love him and I wanted to treat him with some sweetness that day. Just before dinner, he even joked and told me he thought of grabbing chocolates and flowers on the way home from work but that he figured they were pretty much picked over. And I laughed.

I think guys get a bad rap for being unromantic. I gave a talk to our local MOPS group (now Compass) about keeping the romance alive, and the best thing I said was that we should be the romantic we want our spouse to be. And that we should be clear about our expectations and needs.

I try to be extremely clear in what I want from him. I let him know that I like exotic flowers more than roses (I think roses are more of a how beautiful, let's grab that dozen for $10 at Pick N Save and enjoy them this random November week). I'd rather open a bottle of red wine or pour a few Belgian beers and cuddle, talk, and play cards or Scrabble. Hawk and I are just SO different in our personality, our likes and dislikes, our styles, etc., that it's just unreasonable and cruel for me to expect him to be me. Sure, I like surprises, but I also know that he loves me and he wants to show me that love in the way I will most appreciate. And in terms of expectations---since we never celebrated Valentine's Day before last year, I had no expectation that he should do something special.

I also think it is a great thing for one person to simply offer an act of romance out of love. Plain and simple love. I love you so I did this little thing for you. It's so much more enjoyable to receive something done just because I love you, and it's easier to give something for the same reason.

What do you think? Should guys be the lead romantic, or is it more an equal-effort sort of thing? Is it okay for women to be blunt about what they want?

I'd love to hear what you think.

Happy Thursday!

icj,
~j

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date night : preggo version

Hawk took a vacation week so last night, we hired our favorite babysitter (so favorite she's our only one), snatched some of the Christmas gifts Hawk received from his team members, and got a night out on the town.

We used the first of our City Tins. 

For those of you outside of the Milwaukee/Madison area, let me tell you about this brilliant concept. Printed onto what look like standard bar-fare coasters are $10 gift certificates good toward any $25 bill at the specified restaurant. The restaurants themselves are all on the trendy, young side in that their patrons are generally outgoing, educated 20- to 40-somethings. None of these are chains; all are local and unique! And the first coaster is this great spinner so if you can't decide where you want to eat, you can make the decision into a game.

We chose the place closest to us because Ace had a slightly rough day and we wanted to make the most of the time we had. We hit up Cafe Hollander and enjoyed the best service--after all, it was a Monday night.

Then, we used our iPic gift and went -- wait for it -- bowling. 

For those of you who knock the sport, may I remind you that it is the only physical activity at which most people are mediocre, so everybody can enjoy themselves instead of trying to be competitive. 

In our first year dating we used to hit up a local alley for their after 9pm, $1 bowling nights. We'd meet up with a collection of friends, grab a few pitchers, order a small pizza or two from the bar, and laugh our way through a fiver's worth of games. 

We bowled 4 games. I won 2 which is unheard of in our relationship---Hawk is good at everything but swimming and rollerskating. 

So if you're looking for a gift for a couple expecting a child, I highly recommend City Tins, a certificate to something physical or optional (since at iPic we could have seen a movie instead), and some cash for babysitting. 

What is your favorite relaxed date activity?

Happy Tuesday, friends!

icj,

~j

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happy anniversary, babe

Happy Anniversary, Hawk.

Two years ago, we hitched ourselves to something pretty great. Unique. Far from mediocre, mundane, merose.

The walk thus far has had it's great challenges, but we knew that going in...

Marriage calls each spouse

to fight against himself for the sake of his beloved.

~alice von hildebrand

You take care of me. You carry me past my own faults. You make me a great wife and mother. And I like how your eyes match your blue ties.

Thank you for making me take life less seriously the past 2 years of marriage. Thank you for providing for us. Thank you for wanting our family to grow, and to grow quickly. Thank you for making a home, making a marriage, and making it all even better than I envisioned it could be.

I respect and admire you above all others.

yours, 

cheeks

all photos courtesy of frontroom photography, taken by erin calfe weide

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music :: valley maker

valley maker

Listen to the piece before reading the remainder of this post, please.

hagar & ishamael :: without a doubt, the most influential and moving musical influence upon my new motherhood.

I guess it’s about time I admit on the blog that I work in Christian ministry (egads!!). So I’m familiar, to say the least, with the SaraiAbramIsaacHagarIshmael saga. In the past, I read this piece and considered neither woman admirable. I pictured Hagar as a scheming, bratty girl, and Sarai as a shriveled, tight-bunned English woman.

Haha. Sorry, England. You guys have great mysteries, though. And pretty royals who resurrect habadashery.

Now I cannot hear this piece without being physically affected. I have a son. When he was first born I did not repeat, “I have a baby,” nor did I introduce him or refer to him as “my baby.” Rather, I would look down at his round face and whisper, “my son. I have a son.” Over and over and over and over and over. It marks an entire shift in my own identity.  I am not just a mother, but a mother of a son. This son. I cannot convey how much this one word, son, has altered my reality and my character.

And when I listen to this piece, for the first time I see Hagar as a servant girl being pulled into this awkward and unappealing union. Rightly so, she demanded respect from Sarai after her son was born :: has her own mind, too ::. I imagine she demanded respect especially for her son, and also understandably though with less empathy on my part, I see Sarai being ticked by this turn of events.

Oh servant you should run

and take with you your son

And then to be cast off. To be replaced. To offer the son the last food your body can muster and see him starving at the end of it, finally unable to watch anymore, throwing oneself on the ground yet within earshot of the wailing babe. Wanting to die because he is dying.

I know now that I must do anything for the good of my son. How vulnerable that makes me, how fragile and yet how strong :: a servant of the lord though you do not see a servant of the lord will you always be :: Even though she’s not part of the plan. She’s not chosen. She’s a mistake. And yet, she is seen, given a promise and reminded of her worth.

I share nothing in common with Hagar but this form of motherhood, but it is enough to shift my perspective and now admire this servant girl. And lastly, to admire the providence that accompanies her though she is not part of the plan per se. I think of every babe who wasn’t part of the plan, and I find in this passage, this song, affirmation of their existence, their life, their singular purpose, their worth.

Enjoy.

Thank you for reading, friends.

icj,

~j 

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wastland and want not

Since becoming a mother, I cry more. I understand less. Like humbly asking for help from church groups because your baby doesn't have a place to sleep in your Appalachian house. Knocking down a small Tres Palmes 6' x 5' hut that formerly housed 6 people including a baby. Disrespect toward mothers. And worse, adults who hurt children. Adults who choose to see a baby's cries as evidence of a sinful nature and a tendency toward manipulation rather than God-given communication of base needs.


I know, it's Monday, Jen! Where's the DIY? The light-hearted fodder? What sort of jelly beans are lodged in your brain today?


Well, the DIY and normal stuff is coming, I assure you. But first, for those of you who crave a bit more, I suggest a new documentary.





I'm eager for it, not merely because I can't get enough of the documentary genre. This facinates me, and of course that scene where the 2 year old (I'm guessing) runs toward his mother/aunt/sister(?) makes my heart melt. Ugh. I HATE tearing up at these things, but it seems that my sonny boy tore my heart a big ole hole for babies that can't be "repaired" anytime soon.


That and I already read this and this and this and this the past few days.

devote :: Hawk and I received our tax refunds already, and we've been talking about how to spend the money (we already save 16% of our gross incomes, so we don't really need to add to that pot). New couches? Art? Or where we really want it...new doors, stoops that aren't crumbling, and replacement basement windows so we don't waste money heating the outside. And all the while I'm thinking of these families around the world who hold their babies tightly to them to keep them warm or healthy or safe. We also had a scare two nights ago. Cormac's AngelCare Monitor sounded twice in 90 minutes. And when we raced upstairs, we found him barely stirring even though the alarm was inches from his head. Not a problem with the monitor before or since, so I'm convinced that he was either breathing so low or had stopped altogether, triggering the alarm, and the sound of the alarm stirred him back to deeper breathing. I want to hold him tightly to me to keep him warm and healthy and safe.


I hope the trailer inspires you! What have you guys seen or heard about lately that resonates?


icj,
~j

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a home makes a marriage

Thanks for hangin' in there with our month away!

In the almost-month I've been away from blogging, we've asked a few questions about why we blog and how blogging changes now that our little one is around. As I write, Hawk is holding him so I can get a few paragraphs out without withholding attention from our son. That in and of itself is a difference, eh?


And we began this blog after reflecting on how the work we do on/in the house mirrors lessons we learn about our marriage.I struggle with how personal and specific (two very different matters) we should be on the blog, but we keep coming back to our tagline: two newlyweds learn from their nest's needs what really makes a marriage. Pretty difficult to be impersonal when talking about marriage. 


So among the home tours I finagle from friends and neighbors, the decore inspiration images, the diys we accomplish or only hope to accomplish, giveaways, and more, we'll be drawing out more devote time for you. Or at the very least, letting that be the underlying theme behind each post.


Glad to be back!


icj
~j

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december devote : to comfort

Finally, december is here. Don't you just love December? Whatever hemisphere you're in (evenin', Aussies!), I'm pretty sure you love December, too.


We're officially having a December baby, and this greatly pleases Hawk. None of our family members have December birthdays, and unless something very strange happens, the baby won't really have a holiday birthday. We both cannot wait for Ace to "arrive" so we can all hang out by our new Christmas tree together, watch the snow fall, drink even more hot cocoa than our nightly dose, and do all those sappy things together.


Speaking of sappy, today's a bit more of a devote day. Move along to the giveaway if this sort of thing annoys you. I won't be offended. Heck, I won't even know.


I began writing small devote sections as a way of highlighting recent ah-ha! moments we discovered about the details of marriage while working through a new old-house (they're only three-months apart in age). And really, the devotes are the reason for this blog. I debate about how personal to get here, so we don't do them regularly, but they certainly form the foundation of thishawksnest.


Back in October, Mom Hawk's lovely bosom buddies threw me a baby shower (I totally had to just google how to spell "bosom.") They made me cry, which I'll explain in a moment. These are the same women who threw me a wedding shower and made me cry there, too. They're very good at decorating, preparing delectibles and sparkling refreshments, and setting the mood for relaxed happiness. And pulling out the ole, "let's say something sweet that makes Jen cry" thing.


This last time, Elizabeth (she made our wedding-favor cookies), who is also a professional speaker, brought two of her four sons' baby blankets. She found them under their beds even though the youngest is almost out of middle school. They looked wretched. Completely tattered, worn, stringy, full of holes,* they no longer resembled blankets. She explained that for her boys, these blankets represented comfort, and no matter how old they were, they would always need to be comforted. (Damn hormones, I'm tearing up even now.) And so would I. She continued to mention reasons for comfort, the source of comfort, and closed by asking me to consider what comfort will be mine in the coming years.


And this made me do one of those "tear up and choke a little" movements where your hand flies to your collarbone as if that's going to help....I already knew the answer. 


Hawk is my comfort. (I know, gagging sound from Seattle). He teases me endlessly, rolls his eyes at my feminine ways, can't stand half of my decorating ideas, but loves me to his death. Our wedding program began with the following Alice von Hildebrand quote:

Marriage calls each spouse 

to fight against himself 

for the sake of his beloved.

And I have found this to be entirely true in our 18 months of marriage. Our greatest hope for our children is that whatever love we offer them flows from what we offer each other first, and this drives us to constantly fight against our own selfishness for the sake of the other. I would be a wreck through this pregnancy were Hawk not by my side, reading babycenter.com, nursing books, helping fold laundry, talking every morning and evening, tooting, and making me laugh so hard the baby kicks. At the end of every day, he is my home. 


My good friend Colleen said, "The greatest thing you can do for your children is to help them live their own life." I've been thinking about this more and more as we enter this very unique phase in life. Our kids will move away just as we left our parents; their homes are not truly with us. I want them to have what we have, even though it won't be with us. 


Now, enough with the gagging-relflexes. On to a better question: What activity / food / drink / person makes you comfortable in December?


Hope this finds you well, friends.


icj,
~j
*I couldn't help asking, can something really be full of holes when a hole is nothing? Why don't we say, "full of nothing"? 

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Date Night & the latest Devote

image found here

I was supposed to work every single day and night this weekend, but due to the tendency of our participants to register late, my employment cancelled both events, leaving me with my first full weekend off in months. So Friday night, Hawk and I went on a date. I hadn't realized how long its been since I got all dolled up to go out with him alone (maybe my birthday?). I pulled out my deep burgundy velvet jacket and coated my eyes in grey shadow, just like the make-up artist at our MOPS group told me to do. He noticed right away. And we took off for Cafe Hollander, a brilliant danish restaurant we used to patronize regularly when we lived on the East Side, and the Social Network at a local theater.

cafe hollander downer ave

I was giddy. All night. Giddy like a school girl. Now, mind you, I am also 8 months pregnant, and people just love to ask me if I'm having twins. (Isn't that sweet of them?) So let's just say I'm huge out front. There I was, giddy and huge. Poor Hawk. We chatted about baby names, labor and delivery needs, godparents, funny stories, and split a frites cone with some spicy aioli sauce and a big soft pretzel, devoured our savory meals (mine was a Maple Chicken Vinaigrette Salad), and a few cokes. It was an almost 2-hour affair before we drove the 30 min to the theatre (really, it is local!), gorged ourselves on decaf diet Pepsi, buttered popcorn, and Junior Mints.

We spent the weekend preparing for the Little One and winterizing the house. Hawk cleaned gutters and windows while I secured the ladder base and read about labor relaxation techniques. We unpacked and washed the last of the baby's things. Went shopping for anything we needed for our hospital bags. I readied the first parts of the baby book, made a little baby artwork, and we picked a few artsy items from etsy.

Later, I spent some time on a new blog I found, todaysletters, in which this great couple writes each other a love letter every day. I love the idea--very simple and less mushy. So I suggested to Hawk that we do something similar every Sunday. He agreed.

Here is my letter from yesterday:

Dear Hawk,

Thank you for completing house projects with your shirt off. Added bonus: I now have curtains and a soothing-safely-shaking-baby-thing thanks to you. Please play mando every night. It's my favorite sound in the house.

Love,

cheeks

image found here

devote:

We've heard so much about how having a baby will take our attention away from each other. We are sure this is true, so we've made our devotion and desire for each other central in our nightly prayers, part of our weekly conversations, and the motivating principle behind every apology. I couldn't believe how good it was to go on a date! I confess, I thought "date nights" were overrated and unnecessary, but even the act of preparing myself physically for our date was a sacramental action. An offering out of deep love. We are hoping that our efforts before Ace arrives will pay off when Ace is here. We've decided:

• that Wednesday nights after Ace arrives, we're going to make dinner together
• that Sunday's we're going to write these little letters to each other
• that once weekly, we're taking a 20-minute walk together, just because
• that we already know some of our temptations and tendencies that would lead us to put each other second in our family, rather than first
• that we can do something good with this knowledge
• that Hawk will pray for and practice patience, and I will pray for and practice being slow to anger

Thank you for taking a little time with today's devote. Hope this finds you well, today!

Happy Monday.

icj,

~j

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the Thorp House Inn

Our first bed and breakfast. 

We know many a couple who have taken advantage of B&B's around the Midwest and East Coast, but this is the first time we had the opportunity to take advantage of one. And let me tell you, it was perfect. If you go to Fish Creek, go to the Thorp House Inn & Cottages for your stay.

Next to the Inn (the big white house above) sit a few cottages. Crisp, bright, happy.

We stayed in the Jesse Room, a beautiful gold, red, and white room with a green, open and attached tub room and two chairs by the gas fireplace.

(our photos are not as nice as theirs)

Here's the glorious jacuzzi tub. I couldn't take too much advantage of it being 12 weeks pregnant, but the bit I did was so soothing. Lavendar bath salts. 

As the current owners and new innkeepers tell us:

The Thorp House Inn and its cottages are listed in the National Register of Historic Places. In 1902, Freeman Thorp, nephew of Asa Thorp, founder of Fish Creek, began the building of the house. Tragedy struck on October 3, 1903, when the steamship Erie L. Hackley capsized in a sudden squall, claiming the life of Freeman and 10 others.

Fate necessitated that the widowed Jessie Thorp begin renting rooms to tourists. Later named Cedar Ridge, Breezy Hill, and The Heritage, the Thorp home continued to accommodate guests well into the 1960's.

In 1986, Christine and Sverre Falck-Pedersen purchased the Thorp House. After extensive restoration, they opened its doors to visitors once again, this time as a "bed and breakfast" inn. As a tribute to the Thorp women, the guest rooms bear their names.

Each morning, Sverre & Christine handmake English biscuits and jams, scramble and hard-boil eggs, and brew the best coffee to serve for breakfast at the single 10-seater kitchen table. All the guests gather together and enjoy conversation before heading out to explore the area.  We met a couple on their honeymoon from North Dakota, a couple from South Carolina, and another from Massachusetts. 

The library is full of quality classics. I began to read from Jane Eyre during our visit.

And on the way out of the Inn, you walk over these old bricks converted into a newer walkway.

On our way home, we stopped at a two of the County's art galleries. 

We found a few pieces we couldn't get enough of, and also, couldn't afford. (sigh). And couldn't take shots of. So I snapped one of these fabulous vases which were showcased away from watchful eyes.

We loved Maxwell's in Egg Harbor:

But the best thing about the drive home (because I HATE ending my time alone with Hawk...we just have too much fun together) was stopping along the way, namely at Made in Britain. Among all the other items straight from the British Isle, they have this table:

It houses everything from Butter Rum (my choice) to Tomato-Chili Chutney (Hawk's choice). You simply walk around and dip pretzels into each of the testing jars. No joke, we hovered around it for 30 minutes! Luckily, the owner loves when guests do this!

devote: Well, that's all we've got of our anniversary trip. I highly recommend that every couple take the time to make a similar trip---somewhere alone, somewhere relatively new, and somewhere simple. It's really all about time alone together. We were going to pass up the opportunity, but Mom Hawk insisted that we value the event and get away. I believe it would be easy as the years progress to limit social interactions to time with friends, family, and one's own children. Thankfully, we have great advice from family and a few close friends that the Number One Priority must always be each other. All other relationships are healthy if this relationship is healthy.

We couldn't agree more. We've found that loving each other best causes us to love others better. 

So here's a glass to good marriages who impart pertinent advice to those just starting out, like us!

icj,

~j

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our first anniversary cont'd

In addition to celebrating our first year of marriage, we also celebrated the 12-week mark of our new baby's life. Well, technically 10, but since you count the first two weeks... well, you get the idea. So we took this picture during our first meal out in Fish Creek, WI. Gotta love the significance, and the nose.

Our first dinner was at the Cookery Restaurant & Wine Bar. My family has patronized the Cookery most of my life, so I was sad to learn they'd experienced a very damaging fire in the past couple of years. It looked a little different, but the remodel is fantastic. Very homey-chic.

On our way out for the day, we walked out the back door of the Thorp House Inn, our bed & breakfast, we found this quaint backyard with a good view of some of the individual cottages. And I still look short.

The next day, we rented bikes and hit Peninsula State Park. You really can't go to Door County without hitting Peninsula.

The first part of the ride takes the rider through marshland. At the end of the trail when we hit the woods, I took this great shot of Hawk.

And Hawk shot this one as we entered the first portion of the woods. 

Isn't this next shot beautiful? The blue flowers look like they're being shaded beneath the leaning trees.

Next, we hit up one of the lighthouses. Most of the Door County lighthouses are 100+ years old, and usually involve a story or two of the harsh survival conditions part and parcel of life in Wisconsin winters. 

This lighthouse told us the story of a young teenager who walked from one of the adjacent islands, across the frozen Bay, to pick up the mail. 

The lighthouse caretaker saw the ice crack beneath the boy, and couldn't get to him in time.  Before his eyes, the young boy perished.

Happy that neither of us need to walk this dangerous distance, we snabbed a shot of the island in the background, the treacherous water, and of course, Hawk's nose.

We hit the trails again and spotted some wild turkeys! I was finally able to capture one of them. Can you see it? 

Later in our trip, we had to take advantage of Fish Creek's locally-owned shops. Here's a glimpse of one of them:

And at another, we found this kaleidoscope. You can position it around the flowers for the most brilliant colors patterns! Creative, eh? I'd never seen anything like it before. It would definitely be a step up from pink flamingos.

This lovely church sits away from the main strip. We couldn't get enough of its age, the simple new facade, and the garden area. And that stone wall you can see at the bottom of the pic.

More beautiful spring flowers on our way back from that day's dinner (beef brisket---amazing!!!).

One of the oldest remaining original homes in the area, now a museum, which was, of course, closed during our visit. This one in particular reminds me of Anne of Green Gables.

And last, but not least, we stopped at my favorite fudge shop in Fish Creek. My family has been coming here for decades, and when any one of us goes to the Door without the others, we make sure to pick up a pound of genuine, homemade fudge for each missing member of the family.  Can you see my excitement?

And Hawk, not being as much of a fudge fan, nabbed a blast-from-the-past treat for himself.

When he hate a mouthful, I could hear them snapping and popping. Oh, the memories of childhood!

Hope you enjoyed the brief trip with us. I'll post about our B&B soon. It was almost too good to be true.

icj,

~j

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