The Krzych Christmas Letter

Christmas letter coming on Friday, December 23! Woohoo!!

A Divine Appointment

Have you ever had a divine appointment? you know, a time in your life where either you were put in someone else's path to help them at just the right time or someone else was put in your path to help you at just the point you need it the most? As long as I can remember, I have always heard of such a thing but never experienced it. Until last Tuesday.

Tuesday morning found me rushing to get Cooper and myself ready for our first MOPS meeting. I was determined to be there on time, a skill I have always lacked but which is now magnified by ten thousand since I have an infant son. I knew I should have packed his diaper bag and picked out our clothes on Monday; in fact, I planned on doing just that. I actually planned on getting a lot accomplished on Monday. I stayed up late Sunday night making our daily dinner menu, my shopping list, and my to-do this week checklist, in a meager attempt to get myself organized, and yet, at the same time Monday night, I found myself having accomplished only one item on my checklist: cleaning out the refrigerator -- and that was the easiest task. I sat on the couch across from Scotty apologizing for my weak attempt at being a good housewife. It seems so easy for everyone else, I moaned.

We made it to MOPS in time to get Coop settled in the nursery and in time for me to visit with a few new friends. I found my table and took a seat next to Kristal. Of all the tables where I could have been placed, of all the women I could have sat by, this is the table I was assigned and the seat I chose. As we made small talk, I found out she has an 8 month old son, her only so far. I also found out she works from home. Still wounded from my inability to successfully navigate homemaking and motherhood, I questioned, "How in the world do you do it??" And I will not forget her answer: "It's very difficult. Some days I don't get anything done." I wanted to get up and hug her right there.

And then our speaker got up and started her message. One of her first lines? "Put away the measuring tape both for yourself and for your children." Oh dear heavens, did she listen in on my conversation with Scotty last night? Did someone give her a microscope into my thoughts the past few days?

She went on to talk about competition, how it leads to envy and discontentment, how it robs you of the joy Christ gives. I loved what she said in reference to mothering: "It's not gonna matter in 20 years!" She laughed and said now that she has grown children, no one ever stops and asks her, "How old were they when they were potty-trained?" or "When did your daughter first start to walk?" I imagine the same is true of her housekeeping skills. I'm sure no one wonders if her house were perfectly clean when her children were younger. But she did admit to always trying to keep up with what she thought she should be doing: "I should have homemade cookies ready for my kids when they get home from school"; "I should be able to keep JJ from making a mess"; "I should read to the kids every night." Her shoulds resonated within my heart. And then she told us to drop the word should from our vocabulary.

Um, right. How am I supposed to do that, when the "I shoulds" are chasing me at every corner?

Her solution is the recipe for contentment in motherhood, which goes a little something like this:

• 1 heaping cup of unconditional love, both for your children and for others
• 1/2 cup of positive and true self talk (how I talk to myself will dictate how I go through life, whether I am stressful or joyful... this reminded me of my dad's instructions to learn to preach to yourself)
• More than a pinch of gratitude (the more you say "Thank you," the happier you will find yourself. Even when you don't feel grateful, practice an attitude of gratitude.)
• 1 Tablespoon of celebrating the victory of other people's children (this takes practice! You may not feel it right away, but you will feel it. There is only one of your child, and he is a masterpiece of God. Take the competition out by being genuinely happy for each other's accomplishments)
• A generous heaping of God's grace (Grace: I am fully known, loved, forgiven, empowered, and pursued by God)

I sat in my chair and wanted to bawl with tears of joy. How did God know I would need to be here at this very moment?

I marveled at all the little details that worked together to get me to this place? A suggestion by an old friend that I should join MOPS; a name of a church to visit from my mother-in-law's friend's sister who lives in Colorado Springs; a website that had a list of women's ministry options, one of which was MOPS; an online registration form that had Derika's contact info; an email response inviting me to attend an upcoming picnic; welcoming hearts both at the picnic and afterwards. That is how I got here. It sounds so simple, but there is so much to it, including my shy, wavering heart that almost didn't make it to the picnic.

What if I wouldn't have made it here? What if Elizabeth would never have mentioned MOPS to me? What if Mom K would not have asked about churches and I never would have checked out Woodmen Valley Chapel? What if I wouldn't have emailed Derika or gone to the picnic? What if I wouldn't have sat next to Kristal or if they wouldn't have asked Becky to speak? I never would've heard my reminder to put away the measuring tape, and, perhaps, it would still be out and I would continue to miss out on the joy of motherhood that God has in store for me.

Thank you, Lord, for all of the divine appointments that led to this divine appointment. I needed it today.

An Attitude of Gratitude

It's 4:01 a.m. My heartburn is back; my son won't sleep; and on top of that, he wants to nurse every hour. Uggghhh.

What's that the speaker said today? "Learn to practice an attitude of gratitude."

Oh yeah....

God, thank you for this heartburn because at least it means I am alive and able to feel; thank you for its almost complete absence for nearly five glorious months; thank you for the medicine that helps provide quick relief.

Thank you for my son who won't sleep; thank you for knowing how much I love to cuddle and for giving me a little cuddle bug; thank you for replacing all of the sleepless nights spent wondering if I would ever be able to have a child with sleepless nights holding him in my arms.

And thank you that he wants to nurse every hour or two; thank you that he is eating and healthy and growing; thank you that he is here.

Lord, take away my tendency to complain and to be frustrated and please foster an attitude of gratitude within me.

Philippians 2:14, "Do everything without complaining..."

Our Zoo Adventure

Tonight, Scott's school, Colorado College, offered a free night at the Cheyenne Mountain Zoo for all of its employees, alumni, and I think students. Cooper's still a little too young to appreciate all the magnificent animals, but the fact that it was free made the choice to go an easy one (well, that combined with the fact that we don't really have a ton of social events going on these days. When you don't know anyone in town, that's pretty much the case). So we loaded up Cooper, grabbed our books to donate, and headed to the zoo.

Now this isn't just any zoo. This is a gorgeous zoo, located on the south side of Cheyenne Mountain (hence the name, go figure). I've really never seen anything like it. To get to the animals, you have to be ready to climb A LOT, but the scenery is so beautiful that you really don't mind all of the climbing. And from the mountain, the views of Colorado Springs are absolutely breathtaking. I found myself often thinking, "Do we really live here?"

Our first stop was the giraffe exhibit. I was so disappointed because we walked up to the exhibit, and there were no giraffes. I'm not gonna lie; my first thought was "So we get a free night at the

zoo, but the animals aren't even out?? That's kinda crappy." I'm glad I didn't vocalize my pessimism because almost immediately afterward, I realized the giraffes were just inside eating. I'm not sure what this inside building was; maybe the giraffes sleep there? All I know is it smelled like crap, literally. But the giraffes were gorgeous. I don't remember ever being this close to one. Really amazing animals.

See? This one just looks so friendly. It even looks like he's smiling. How close do you wanna get?

I wanted to take pictures of Scott and Coop with the giraffes, but Scott didn't want to get too close. I don't blame him. Mr. Giraffe here looks like he's up to no good!

Our next stop was the Tiger exhibit because they were going to have a special feeding of the tiger. There were so many people waiting to see this feeding that it was almost impossible to get a good look at the feeding; plus, it was a tiny bit anti-climactic, since the zookeeper was standing behind a large fence and feeding the tiger though a hole. This is what all the people were gathered around to see? I wanted a little more excitement and drama! I mean, I wasn't looking for the tiger to attack the zookeeper or anything, but a nice roar wouldn't have hurt anybody now, would it?

The tiger's stripes really are beautiful. And Coop seemed to enjoy watching!

I didn't take pictures of many other animals, other than these monkeys. They're named Colobus Monkeys. I found out they leap through the trees, but if they're in danger, they may quickly drop to the ground, even if it's a 40 foot drop. They kind of look like skunks to me. Interestingly enough, the babies are born pure white. I also read that they spend hours grooming each other's fur as a way of bonding. That explains this photo:

We saw many other amazing animals, like the moose, a porcupine, mountain lions, a pig, and even wild turkeys just wandering around. The zoo has its own petting zoo, which brought back fond memories of my mom and dad taking us to Branson when we were little. I can't wait until Coop is old enough to be allowed into the petting zoo with the goats. I'm sure he will love it.

Best of all, we got to meet the CC Tiger. Scott jokingly asked why in the world we choose schools with terrible mascot colors. First, OSU orange; now, CC yellow. I say, Orange Power all the way!

All in all, it was an extremely fun night with my boys, and it seems like Coop had a lot of fun:

Tonight was the first night that I really felt a genuine love starting to form for Colorado Springs. Now, maybe that's because on the way to the zoo, we drove through the old part of town, with the most beautiful (and expensive) homes, and I'm now determined that's where we need to live (anyone have money to donate to my Co Springs fund??) But, in all seriousness, this place is beautiful and has so many fun things to do. Coop is going to have an entirely different experience growing up here than he would have growing up in Oklahoma. Not that one is better than the other. It's just different. As much as I miss my home, I'm grateful that Cooper gets to have this experience. I'm grateful we get to go outside and enjoy the fresh air; I'm grateful we get to see giraffes up close and watch the porcupine stand on its hind end; I'm grateful we get to do something that's not our normal.

Our First MISadventure

Marigold Cafe & Bakery: sounds innocent enough, right? Well, tonight it was the scene of the Krzych's first misadventure in Colorado Springs.

This afternoon found me out of sorts. It was our second Saturday in Colorado, and I felt so lonely. Scott's family had been here all week, which made my first week here not seem so daunting, but today everyone was gone. The house was quiet, almost eerily so. Combine that with another issue that was pressing on my mind, and I just needed to get away. So I asked Scotty if we could go eat barbecue at this yummy little place called Rudy's, and, of course, he obliged.

Now if you've never been to a Rudy's, try to picture it: You walk in the front doors and are immediately greeted by the smell of deliciousness. To your left is an ice cream shop and to your right are long rows of tables lined with red and white checkered table cloths, with folding chairs and benches for your seat. You order and pick up your food at the counter, grab some napkins and your drink, and find a place to sit. If the place is busy, you share a table with who-in-the-world knows - a group of the military, some bikers, people in suits -- they all come to enjoy Rudy's. And there's a note on several of the walls: "Your Momma doesn't live here, so clean up after yourself." What I'm getting at is this is casual dining at its finest.

On this particular night, Rudy's was packed -- parking lot full, line out the door packed -- and it's a shame because I really wanted that barbecue brisket. It's the only one I've had that actually rivals my mother's, which is about the highest compliment I can give a restaurant. But, anyway, the place was packed and, with a 5 month old in tow, we decided not to stay. Instead, we decide to try Marigold's because it was relatively close by, and we had heard so many good things about it.

Scott starts telling me he's pretty sure this is the place that has amazing hamburgers that was recommended by a friend. We pull up to the restaurant, and I see the bakery sign, and of course I think "Yum, maybe that have some delicious dessert that will make up for me not getting that brisket." We walk inside, and the hostess immediately asks us if we have a reservation. "Um, we need a reservation for a hamburger cafe?" I'm glad I didn't vocalize my thoughts. As I look past the hostess stand, I see why we might need a reservation: white tablecloths with candlelight, the very distinguished waitstaff, the couples clearly on romantic dates. The hostess smiles at Cooper and says "Well, look at that adorable smile; I just have to seat you now." I still wonder if that was a small dig, as if she normally wouldn't seat us with a baby(?).

She seats us in the corner booth closest to the kitchen, and I feel my blood pressure rising. Coop is normally such a good baby, but I can just picture this evening going wrong in all kinds of ways. And then I look at the menu. Blood pressure starts rising even more. Roasted chicken: $22? This was definitely not cheap, casual barbecue. Here we had just had a talk about trying not to spend money and now we're about to drop at least $60 on our dinner, and that's if we eat the cheapest items on the menu. I thought I was going to have a panic attack right there, and my eyes filled with tears. This was not the fun night out I was hoping to have. I kept reciting all of the things that could go wrong and why I was on edge; thankfully, I have a husband who's a little more of an optimist(okay, a lot more of one). "Happy Anniversary," Scotty said, as he grabbed my hand in his. "Not quite where or how we had planned on celebrating," I replied. "And now we won't even get to celebrate." (see, i'm a pessimist at heart)

I won't bore you with all of the details. Suffice it to say, the food was average; the waiter was nice until he found out we weren't ordering alcohol; and Coop was on his best behavior.

We survived the evening, and at some point, probably as we were pulling out of the parking lot, my blood pressure went down. Or maybe that was as Scotty and I sat on our top stairs eating the delicious slices of cake we ordered to go. That was, indeed, the best part of the evening.

The moral of this story? Even misadventures can turn out okay, if they end with chocolate cake. Oh, and, check Yelp's convenient "Kid friendly?" feature before you head to a new restaurant.

On Our Way

It's 1:00 on Thursday/Friday morning, and we're on the road. We're near Hays, Kansas. It's pitch black all around except for the lightning in the distant skyline. We've been watching the lightning for awhile - it's been at a safe distance for so long, but it's picking up speed and intensity as we get near.

Today feels surreal. I feel in a cloud of emotion, mostly hiding behind all the busy-ness of leaving...gotta pack this, transfer files, shop for that one last thing. Write notes, tidy up, and turn off the lights. It was hard to walk out of my office today. I couldn't take my name off the door. I tried. Couldn't do it. Couldn't bear to think that I am actually leaving for good, that someone else will be in this spot when I come back next time, that one day, the kids here won't know me.

Leaving Nikki's house was hard. She has been not just a co-worker but a very, very good friend. She has shared so many of my ups and downs, the frustrations, the excitements, the tears, and lots and lots of laughter. I am going to miss walking into her office to tell her of someone's latest antics. I told her she needs to call me sometimes and put me on speaker phone and just let me listen. I also told her he's not allowed to stop by my office and talk to the new me either.

I know this move is a good one. There are many things for which to be grateful. For starters, I get to stay home with my little boy instead of working 50 hours a week. We get to live near the mountains, in a place where snow is common and not a rarity. I'm sure my winters will eventually be spent hoping the snow will dissipate rather than praying for it to appear! We get to live in a place of activity, where there is almost always something to go do or a new restaurant to try, instead of having to drive over an hour for these things. And Scott, who has worked so hard and with such diligence, gets to be a Professor of New Media at one of the top 20 liberal arts universities in the country. He has an office that looks out at Pikes Peak for goodness' sake! So, yes, this is a good move.

Even still, it is hard to say goodbye. It is hard to start again. It is hard to look forward without reservation.

I remind myself of the hesitations I felt nearly 9 years ago as I moved into N-16 at Applecreek in Stillwater. I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I just knew that I didn't know what to do with my life, so grad school seemed like the best option (um, where were the knowledgeable people back then who could have told me differently??). I applied to OSU simply because my mom and grandparents had gone there. I really wanted to go to OU. OSU gave me the better offer, so OSU it was. I jumped in with both feet. I knew no one, and I came home to an empty apartment every night. And I was scared.

Little did I know what was really in store for me. I had no idea that it was at OSU that I would meet my husband, that I would make lifelong friends, that I would find a job that I love. Little did I know that my 2-year plan would turn into 9 years, that I would actually leave without my degree but with the love of my life, and that we would have a beautiful son in tow. I had no idea about all of the lives that I would come into contact with, whether through teaching Comp 1 or Comp 2 to all the baby freshmen (and some seniors!) or through my work as an academic facilitator and learning specialist for OSU's Academic Services for Student-Athletes. Through the wonders of modern technology, I have been able to maintain these relationships and watch as all of "my children" grow. I've watched as EJ, who introduced me to this new phenomenon called Facebook, met his future wife and got closer to marriage. I've seen Dacia, Sydney, and Jesse have babies of their own. I've seen Andrew, Russell, Andre, Terrance and TJ graduate. I've seen Hubert, Kye, and Richetti overcome incredible obstacles in order to do what they love. I've watched as Russell and Kendall fulfill their dreams of making it to the NFL. I've met amazing young women, like Flash, Christy and Marissa, Caroline and Rachel, Julie and Tamara. I've fallen in love with these kiddos, who aren't really kids at all. They made it fun to go into work every day. They make it sad for me to leave.

As I look back on my life these past 9 years, I have nothing but joy. Don't get me wrong; there were many heartaches. For as many ups, there were just as many downs. But, overall, as I look back, I see God's hand in all of it, creating me into the person that I am today. I came to this place, thinking I'd be here for a long 2 years and then leave with my Master's degree. I drove away with my soul mate, my son, a host of little brothers and sisters, wonderful friends, and amazing memories. I didn't always see it, but, my, what a beautiful story.