Tradition. A custom passed from generation to generation. I married into this one and can't wait to pass it along to the Leets that have yet to experience the world. I remember the first time I experienced this tradition. I was dating James at the time and we were having a birthday dinner for Sally (James' mom) at Brian and Angela's house (brother and sister-in-law). It came time to sing happy birthday with a cake, and before I knew it there were tears and laughter and I wasn't sure what was going on. I had heard about this tradition and it wasn't until I saw the look on both the grandparents to be faces, that I realized what was going on. The PECAN PIE...the first announcement that a little one is on the way. This is a tradition that was passed through the Craig family, Sally's mom. The day we announced our little bean was around Christmas time. Now I have to let you in on a little secret. The Leet family, they are witty and intuitive. One little touch of the belly or refusal of a glass of wine and you become suspect. So with that said, we had to be sneaky and creative. We were in Portland for the weekend and celebrating the holiday season with going to the Gospel Choir Christmas production. The family had planned to go to dinner beforehand and this is where our plotting began. We thought if we had the waiter bring out the dessert, than no could suspect. So earlier in the day we brought the pie in to the restaurant and gave special instructions to our waitress. We barely made it through dinner because of our bursting excitement. I was even poured some wine and had to sneakily keep switching glasses with James who took one for the team and sipped both glasses to make our story legit! Dessert time came, which everyone was expecting tiramisu. As the pie came, disappointed looks (because no tiramisu) quickly changed to puzzled looks (which my brother in law looked at his wife thinking, uh are we pregnant?), and finally the gazes turned to the couple at the end of the table. With grins from ear to ear we could not resist but to announce that there was a bun in the oven. It was a moment that brings me to tears even now as I type. The joy of celebrating new life was expressed with hugs and kisses and of course pecan pie. The rest of the night we thanked God through the beats and praises of gospel music. I love tradition.
Friday, April 29, 2011
Traditions of Pecan Pie
Tradition. A custom passed from generation to generation. I married into this one and can't wait to pass it along to the Leets that have yet to experience the world. I remember the first time I experienced this tradition. I was dating James at the time and we were having a birthday dinner for Sally (James' mom) at Brian and Angela's house (brother and sister-in-law). It came time to sing happy birthday with a cake, and before I knew it there were tears and laughter and I wasn't sure what was going on. I had heard about this tradition and it wasn't until I saw the look on both the grandparents to be faces, that I realized what was going on. The PECAN PIE...the first announcement that a little one is on the way. This is a tradition that was passed through the Craig family, Sally's mom. The day we announced our little bean was around Christmas time. Now I have to let you in on a little secret. The Leet family, they are witty and intuitive. One little touch of the belly or refusal of a glass of wine and you become suspect. So with that said, we had to be sneaky and creative. We were in Portland for the weekend and celebrating the holiday season with going to the Gospel Choir Christmas production. The family had planned to go to dinner beforehand and this is where our plotting began. We thought if we had the waiter bring out the dessert, than no could suspect. So earlier in the day we brought the pie in to the restaurant and gave special instructions to our waitress. We barely made it through dinner because of our bursting excitement. I was even poured some wine and had to sneakily keep switching glasses with James who took one for the team and sipped both glasses to make our story legit! Dessert time came, which everyone was expecting tiramisu. As the pie came, disappointed looks (because no tiramisu) quickly changed to puzzled looks (which my brother in law looked at his wife thinking, uh are we pregnant?), and finally the gazes turned to the couple at the end of the table. With grins from ear to ear we could not resist but to announce that there was a bun in the oven. It was a moment that brings me to tears even now as I type. The joy of celebrating new life was expressed with hugs and kisses and of course pecan pie. The rest of the night we thanked God through the beats and praises of gospel music. I love tradition.
Friday, March 18, 2011
Growing With Anticipation
22 weeks and 1 day of growing and anticipating the life within my belly. I have finally decided to share with the rest of you what I have been thinking, feeling, and experiencing the last 5 months. I think it has taken me this long to embrace this truth that by mid July, James and I will have a little human to add to our family. So far Durango and I have been representing the female presence, but now we will be even 2 boys and 2 girls (okay even though Durango is a dog, she still counts).
It is a drizzly Friday afternoon and I am feeling contemplative. Probably why I have decided to finally blog...it has been awhile. The last few months will be difficult to sum up but I know it is important to reflect on this experience. First of all, thank God there are 40 weeks to prepare. It seems as if James and I talked about beginning our family with the expectation of it happening the next day. It has been a beautiful process of layers and learning about myself, my husband, and the world we live in. I am grateful that God knows what he is doing by giving us the gift of time and process. James and I were able to get away to a little Mexican fishing town where there was not much to do but be together, eat, and reflect. James and I have been writing in a journal to our babe. I would like to share some blurbs...I find myself re-reading these entries often with both emotions of joy and apprehension. We often only like to talk about the good and "happy." But the truth is, I often ask myself if it is the wisest choice to bring a child into a world that has such potential for harm. It is something I choose to honestly wrestle with. Here are some of our thoughts:
"When you read this you will have a name, a personality, even a story to tell. But, since your mom and I don't even know your gender yet, we've resorted to calling you 'shim.'"
"In the last 3 weeks I have begun to feel you swim, move, and flutter around. Your movement only excites me more at the thought of your growth and one day holding you in my arms."
"I can't wait to express, tell, and show you of this love. You will have a whole life to explore this amazing truth. Shim your life is on purpose, you have been knitted in my womb for a greater story. There is a God who loves you and will know you more than your daddy and I will."
"I can't wait until mid July when you are born! I already love the idea of you and we have more than 5 months till you're supposed to be born...I guess I will just have to wait."
"We have some exciting news we found out last week, you are a boy...I'm sure you already figured this out by now. I am already praying that you will be free to do, play, dance, sing, walk, run, or skip to the beat God gives you!"
6 weeks
8 weeks
12 weeks
17 weeks
19 weeks
20 weeks
22 weeks
It is a drizzly Friday afternoon and I am feeling contemplative. Probably why I have decided to finally blog...it has been awhile. The last few months will be difficult to sum up but I know it is important to reflect on this experience. First of all, thank God there are 40 weeks to prepare. It seems as if James and I talked about beginning our family with the expectation of it happening the next day. It has been a beautiful process of layers and learning about myself, my husband, and the world we live in. I am grateful that God knows what he is doing by giving us the gift of time and process. James and I were able to get away to a little Mexican fishing town where there was not much to do but be together, eat, and reflect. James and I have been writing in a journal to our babe. I would like to share some blurbs...I find myself re-reading these entries often with both emotions of joy and apprehension. We often only like to talk about the good and "happy." But the truth is, I often ask myself if it is the wisest choice to bring a child into a world that has such potential for harm. It is something I choose to honestly wrestle with. Here are some of our thoughts:
"When you read this you will have a name, a personality, even a story to tell. But, since your mom and I don't even know your gender yet, we've resorted to calling you 'shim.'"
"In the last 3 weeks I have begun to feel you swim, move, and flutter around. Your movement only excites me more at the thought of your growth and one day holding you in my arms."
"I can't wait to express, tell, and show you of this love. You will have a whole life to explore this amazing truth. Shim your life is on purpose, you have been knitted in my womb for a greater story. There is a God who loves you and will know you more than your daddy and I will."
"I can't wait until mid July when you are born! I already love the idea of you and we have more than 5 months till you're supposed to be born...I guess I will just have to wait."
"We have some exciting news we found out last week, you are a boy...I'm sure you already figured this out by now. I am already praying that you will be free to do, play, dance, sing, walk, run, or skip to the beat God gives you!"
6 weeks
8 weeks
12 weeks
17 weeks
19 weeks
20 weeks
22 weeks
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Who or what will hold you?
First Lesson
By Philip Booth
Lie back, daughter, let your head
be tipped back in the cup of my hand.
Gently, and I will hold you. Spread
your arms wide, lie out on the stream
and look high at the gulls. A dead-
man's float is face down. You will dive
and swim soon enough where this tidewater
ebbs to the sea. Daughter, believe
me, when you tire on the long thrash
to your island, lie up, and survive.
As you float now, where I held you
and let go, remember when fear
cramps your heart what I told you:
lie gently and wide to the light-year
stars, lie back, and the sea will hold you.
By Philip Booth
Lie back, daughter, let your head
be tipped back in the cup of my hand.
Gently, and I will hold you. Spread
your arms wide, lie out on the stream
and look high at the gulls. A dead-
man's float is face down. You will dive
and swim soon enough where this tidewater
ebbs to the sea. Daughter, believe
me, when you tire on the long thrash
to your island, lie up, and survive.
As you float now, where I held you
and let go, remember when fear
cramps your heart what I told you:
lie gently and wide to the light-year
stars, lie back, and the sea will hold you.
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"When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares."
~Henri Nouwen
