Leif

My, my, my.  What a handsome young man.

Leif is going to be four years old in a couple of weeks.  I love who he's become this year.  He's started being very talkative, and I love that.  He hardly ever let me know what he was thinking before, but over the last few months, he'll just talk and talk.  It's wonderful.  He has the most beautiful thoughts in his head.  He's gotten into the habit recently of just being really cheerful and generous and gracious.

And what an imagination he's got.

And what a blessing he is.

My, my, my.  What a handsome young man.

Sticks and Acorns

I'm going to be doing this Instagram thing for a while.  As a former photography major, (one of my many experimental paths) I really appreciate the casual irreverence and simple fun of just snapping a picture this way without all the technical stuff.  It feels more real somehow, but then also a little more charming.  

It also helps because I don't have a fancy camera at the moment, and I tend to always have my phone on me.  No more running to find the camera and hoping time (or more impossibly, my kids) stood still.  

I was watching the kids in the backyard and they were, of course, "making plants," seeking out lizards and ladybugs to play with, and birds to feed without any actual food.  It's really no wonder the birds don't actually show up.  

My daughter came up to me and sighed heavily -- the only way she really knows how to sigh -- about how she didn't have any food for the birds.  Leif suggested she feed them the small stick she was holding.  I advised that the birds would more likely want to use the stick for a nest rather than lunch.  Birds are picky that way, aren't they?  Rose's face lit up and decided that, yes, she would like to donate the stick to the birds' nest-making endeavors.  So of course, she would have to throw it for them.  I'm not sure how this was supposed to help or where the stick was supposed to end up that it would be more convenient for the birds, but nevertheless, there she is giving it a second try since the first one didn't achieve the desired result, whatever that was.

This brief scene reminded me of being a kid and believing that the world pretty much revolved around whatever was in my wee head at the time -- not so much believing that I was so important, but believing that if I left a small pile of neatly gathered acorns, absolutely some fortunate squirrel would come upon them and be delighted even if it were under an oak tree with thousands more acorns lying all around.  I meant it for good and it would be received because it was significant to me.  

You know what I mean?  

It's okay if you don't.  

Anyway, I think this is how God sees us, as His kids.  Though, some of us tend to believe that God doesn't have time for our small joys or disappointments or the small things that are important to us, He's actually able to care about those things and everything else in the world.  And deeply, too.  That's what makes Him God.  We are significant, our thoughts are significant, our ups and downs are significant, our plans are significant because we are significant to Him. We're his greatest love and greatest joy no matter what, and I think that's breathtaking.

Maybe I'm reaching with that parallel.  

Oh, well.  If you're befuddled, it's your fault for reading this far.  But I love that you did.

That's all.  Have a lovely Monday.

Evening Tidbits

1.  Ivy snores.  Like a buzz saw.  You might think this was as funny and sweet as I do if you saw how tiny she is.  She's a half-pint family terrorist and one of the funniest people I've ever, ever met.

2.  I always look in on the kids and gently arrange them in their wee beds before turning in myself.  Well, actually, I gently turn snoring Ivy, tenderly pull the covers over curled-up Lily, and carefully arrange Rose's many necessary sleep fellows (i.e. Steve the dog, Winnie the Pooh, and Piano the baby) around her sleeping form.

Awwww...

I then heroically perform a feat of near-mythological proportions in order to gymnastically propel Leif, from whatever defiance of physics he's managed to achieve while falling asleep, back onto his pillow, yanking his covers over him, and marveling that once that boy's fallen asleep, I could catapult him to New Mexico, and he probably wouldn't wake up until around 6:30 a.m. to wonder aloud that he shouldn't have to go to school that day, him being in New Mexico and all.

I swear it actually took me three minutes to find him on his bed tonight.

3.  I found out a couple nights ago that my kids love chicken parmigiana with a ferocity once only reserved for Cracker Barrel pancakes.

Run, chickens!  RUN!!!

4.  I'm in the weeds.  If you've ever worked in a busy restaurant, you are familiar with this term.  It means orders backed up from here to kingdom come.

Well, I've got household stuff backed up from here to kingdom come.  My list of stuff to do tires me out just thinking about it.  I'd go to bed, but of course, there's a giant mound of clean laundry on it to be folded and put away.  I think it's time the kids and I learned to live with a shirt, a pair of pants, a couple undies, and a pair of socks apiece.  What do we need all these clothes for anyway?

5 people  x  a couple days of normal livin'  =  big pile of laundry on Mama's sleep space

Sigh.

5.  I love being a mom.

Actually, I love being my kids' mom.  No offense to the rest of you and your supposedly lovely children, but my kids are super awesome!  And I don't think any other arrangement would be quite the same.

G'night.

Life and Other Difficult/Wonderful Things

Ah, Leif.  And now the world can see a small portion of the funniness you bring into our lives...

Anywayyyy.... Does anyone know where I can get a free housekeeper?  Oh, and a cook, and a personal secretary, and while I'm at it, I'd like a professional barista to set up in my kitchen to bring me strong, strong coffee whenever I desire.  Because then I think I might be able to handle life with utter skill and elegance.  I'll be able to raise my kids, work full time, work extra time, keep up this dusty and cobwebby blog, and my small (read:  teensy weensy) jewelry shop, plus keeping a handle on the various birthdays and anniversaries and other special events and correspondence of every friend and family member I love and care about and take the kids on mahhhvelous day trips on the weekends throughout the city and, and, and....

No? 

Okay...

In the meantime, I'm enjoying the challenge... sometimes... Other times I want ship my family off to New Zealand and shut myself in my room for five minutes of quiet time.  (Note to self:  Find out if Air New Zealand offers discounts for a large-group, five-minute flight.)  But really in theory I love that my life is so challenging, even when I'm busy wishing it wasn't quite so HARD.

Very hard.  Right now, it's just very, very hard.  Don't get me wrong.  I'm so blessed in so many ways.  And I'm definitely not alone.  And I have this sick, twisted feeling that once it's not hard anymore, I might miss some of the hardness.  (Hey, I did say it was sick and twisted.)  I have so much, but the hard get's ya. 

So...   

Thank God for a God who listens to prayer.

Thank God for my finally being able to learn in 30-odd years of living not to wait until I'm screaming on the inside (and sometimes on the outside) to pour out all my fears and complaints and let Him grab me up. 

Thank God for a God who loves, loves, LOVES me when I'm handling life's challenges with a less than gracious (read:  crude, whiny, angry, mean) manner.

One of the awesome things I really love about having kids is scooping up one of them really, really enveloping them in my arms, hugging, laughing, and thinking later that God is doing the same with me.  Even when I'm showing him attitude worthy of a pouty, tantrum-throwing one-year-old, He wants to grab me up and tell me He loves me.

This is where I hope to keep my mind as I keep messily going forward each day.

Little Things

Life gets rough sometimes.  And complicated.  Not like Libya rough and complicated, but sometimes enough to weigh you down quite a bit.  Especially when you lose perspective. 

But there are things -- if your head is not hanging too low to actually look around -- that...

Well, you know if you see them.

Today, life is complicated.  But I'm making sure to see.  My Ivy bent down to kiss me the other day for the first time.  I was lying on the ground, and suddenly she was there. 

And this: 



My Grandma sends us oranges from her tree in California.  The best oranges ever.

God, thank you for the little things.

Grandma, thank you for the oranges.

Ivy, thank you for my kiss.