Tis the season...

One of the truest joys of the Christmas season is baking all things yummy! The joy is made all the better when you have this cute little cookie monster to help.

I let her taste the creamed butter and sugar, and she eagerly asked for "more, more peas". Then I asked her if she really was a cookie monster, to which she promptly ROARED! Man, I love this girl!

And then there was this...


The big girls had just finished walking with their Girls Scout troop in our little town's Christmas parade, and afterwards we happened upon these gorgeous Ginko leaves in luscious, tempting drifts. Princess Buttercup leading the charge in true Linus Van Pelt style. It was fantastic fun!

More...

Tonight I cried myself to sleep from the wanting more... more peace, more of me to go around, more energy to say yes when Princess Sunshine Buttercup asks me to read to her, or when Princess Me Too says in her sweet baby way, "pawk, pawk."

It was one of those days, only it seems those days keep coming in, like waves crashing the shore during a storm. I want to be a better Mom. I want to do homework with the big girls without frustration biting the edge of my voice, because dinner needs to be made, baby needs attention, laundry needs doing, and the garbage is over flowing. Not to mention, we need to leave for dance or Girl Scouts in about 5 minutes, and someone lost a shoe. We are always rushing it seems. The threat of lateness looming heavy on my head. My old mantra of one foot in front of the other isn't cutting it right now. The waves keep coming. I need a break in the action. Some time to come up for air. Thank God Thanksgiving break is coming. We'll be traveling, but at least it'll be a different kind of busy, that'll include some real ocean waves, and maybe a bit of snow. We'll be with family, and someone else will be cooking. All of which, I am already thankful for.

So, for today, I will be adding just breathe to my one foot in front of the other, and will pray for grace to cover the rest.

Peace. {exhale}

This is how we do it...

Truth be told, I was not feeling "it" this weekend. Didn't even need a costume to be scary because I was grumpy and short tempered all week. But, then this happened...



And, it pulled me out of my funk. Love watching Little Miss Me, too get in on the action. Love how the big girls totally knew the drill this year. Carve the jagged top, scoop the guts, save the seeds. They were even reciting lines from It's The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown. Made me smile. So proud. Definitely ready for the big night now.

Speaking of...

How cute are they? The Librarian (her idea all the way), The Pumpkin, and Her Highness, Princess Peach.









I heard a statistic that put Halloween second only to Christmas on the Big Ten of Holidays. Surprising, and yet, not at the same time. There's nothing in particular that is celebrated by the costumes or the going door to door, giving and receiving candy. But then again maybe there is. Maybe it is the celebration of being with family and friends. The celebration of community. Of knocking on a neighbor's door for the first time all year. Of holding your little one's hand through the crisp night air of Fall. Soaking up the thrill of it all. At least that is how we do it.

Tuff question...

I hate the expression, "Everything happens for a reason." Truly horrible things happen all the time. Things that are so evil there is little a person can do but wall off a piece of themselves and look the other way. It is nearly impossible to wrap my mind around the reality of what evil happens to people, all around the world, every day. All manner of hate, murder, torture, rape, neglect, lies, greed, perversion, pride, violence, sickness, disease. Acts of malice perpetrated against young and old, rich and poor, good and evil alike. What reason is there to be found in the rape and murder of women and little girls, babies even? What purpose is there when orphans are left in solitude, neglected to the point of death? The way in which we humans torture and abuse one another are seemingly endless. And, so often it seems that evil begets even more evil. How then can it be said that all these things happen for a reason? I suppose it is something to say when words fail but are all you have to offer in the face of evil. Words that make it just a bit easier to live behind the walls we build to keep the darkness from overwhelming our souls. But I find no hope in this idea of trying to find a reason to explain why someone's mind can become so warped with evil that they act out atrocious, vile, acts of violence against another person. Saying there must be a reason implies a certain responsibly. Is a person somehow responsible for what is inflicted upon them? Is God? No. Evil exists. It is pervasive. It's vile fingers touch all our lives. Some more cruelly than others. It makes me sick. It seeks only destruction. It's purpose is only death. However, on the other side of this is redemption. I do not believe there is always a reason why evil happens. I do, however, believe in the power of love. In the power of redemption. When evil happens, Love is still there. Love is always greater, and the effects of evil are always offered redemption. Over and over again until restoration is fulfilled. Until what has been destroyed is made right. Until wounds so horrific are healed with truth and grace. In this is true hope.

Road Trip....

Let me just say that, I love my life. I love my husband. I love my girls. I love our home. But, I have to admit that after so many days of the same day in day out routine, of time when my husband must leave us so often to go do work that not many can do, a girl just needs a change of scene. You know what I mean??? When those times come, the best cure is a road trip! That's right. I said it. R-O-A-D T-R-I-P. Now, I love a good road trip. I just love the whole get out of dodge feeling I get when we leave the streets of our wonderful little town that are familiar with memories of growing up here. Those same streets whose there's-nothing-to-do-here boredom as a teenager I wanted to escape from, but whose charm and quaintness make me feel lucky to live here now. Still, it feels so good to roam someone else's neck of the woods, wondering what life is like among their streets. And what memories are held dear by the people who live there. Love it! So, we packed up our stuff, and hit the road.


Our fearless leader diving the entire 3000 miles (round trip) by himself. Love you, honey...




The view from my seat...




We made a point of visiting Grandpa on our journey, and got to see our cousin, too!



It was fun and so good to see the girls laughing and playing with their cousin as if 1600 miles didn't separate them.






Three kids, six states, eleven days...Not bad, huh? We camped some, stayed in hotels some, visited too far away family, and had a lot of fun seeing just a small part, really, of this amazing country of ours. Just what I needed- a concentrated together-time, family adventure.

Coming soon and a call to action...

We just got home from a two week road trip to Colorado, and are trying to quickly settle back in in time for school tomorrow. (Tomorrow? Really? Crazy) More on that and our trip to come. But in the mean time...

I have a friend who is in the process of of adopting a child from Ethiopia. A little boy who will join a sweet family of three beautiful daughters and one handsome boy, plus two very inspiring parents. She is selling jewelry and coffee on her website to help raise funds to cover the cost of the adoption. The necklaces are handmade in Africa. Please check out her blog, and help support this dear family. Thanks, Christie.

http://www.chuckndabs.blogspot.com/

Summertime {and the living is easy} ...

Summertime...that magical season when time itself used to slow to a crawl, and warm sun soaked days eased into cool violet hued evenings. When life brimmed to overflowing with the ease of good friends and family fun. Growing up, summertime meant running across the yard, jumping through the sprinkler as it's arch ticked from one side to the next, stray pieces of grass sticking to your feet as you slipped through the spray again and again. This summer I get to witness the joys of summer through the eyes of my girls.



There is something so satisfying in knowing that some things never change. Like the fact that all any kid really needs to enjoy the magic of summer is sunshine and a hose. You know what they say...you can lead a kid to water and they will play for hours, having the time of their lives.








The laughter and giggles, priceless. I wonder if my own parents relished the same sense of the timelessness of summer fun. Because, as a kid, I never looked beyond the moment. I never wondered when it would end. I just soaked it all in with an insatiable appetite for more.


In these sweet, freckled faces I recognize that same hungry appetite, and it is good!

Silence...

Everyday this blog swirls in the back of my mind. Words unformed waiting to be put to page. Yet, here I sit and not sure what to write that won't sound like a status report of the comings and goings of our family. That'd be really boring. Add to that the fact that I have been feeling like a slug lately, and this girl has not much to say. I'm actually feeling like I am in need of a good Haagen Dazs meets Steel Magnolias and a bubble bath kind of night. The kind of night where all the hazy, indescribable junk that is circling around in my head, weighing my inspiration and motivation down like a ton of bricks, can roll down my cheeks as Sally Fields unloads her grief on her friends in the cemetery. Who needs therapy when you can watch sappy movies and eat ice cream? Lord knows, ice cream can fix just about anything.

One year ago...

This time last year my middle daughter, Princess Buttercup Sunshine, was diagnosed with epilepsy (after 6 months or so of going crazy wondering what was "wrong"- I could drive myself crazy with regret over those 6 months if I let it). Anyway, I remember feeling such fear at hearing the words Petit Mal seizures, and waded through real grief at the realization that she would need daily medication. I was gripped with the sorrow of all the what ifs. What if she develops more traumatic seizures? What if she gets the "life threatening" rash we were warned about from the medication? What if she can't drive? I grieved for the daughter she was, because I thought then that this somehow altered her, that it somehow made her different than she was born to be. I remember feeling that she was not whole anymore. I am almost ashamed to say that out loud today, because she is whole. She is not less than. In those first weeks of being overwhelmed with the craziness of doctor visits, testings, medications, questions, researching the Internet until my eyes were blurry and watery, etc. I couldn't imagine letting the weight of it all slide from my shoulders, but here it is a year later and we are moving ahead. However, there are still days plagued with doubt, and days when she struggles with dark moods swings that leave me asking unanswerable questions like, "Is this because of the seizures? Would she still be this same girl if she didn't have the epilepsy?" What I can say about today, though, is that I no longer carry the full weight of all that heart squeezing fear. And, through it all I am realizing that I am gaining so much strength and compassion. I can face the fact that this sweet, golden girl, who is my joy and my treasure, is who she was meant to be. Epilepsy or not. She is like the beat of my heart, the breathe that fills my chest. My mama's heart beats with a fierce love for her, for all my girls, and that is all that truly matters- the love. Love knows no fear... Love never fails...

Treasures...

This morning I got to do one of my favorite things...garage sailing! Not that I actually frequent garage sales. In fact, I should be clearing out closets and sifting through toy boxes myself. But there is just something about a driveway lined with stuff that puts a spring in my step. So, as I was walking out the door, I asked my husband for whatever cash he had in his wallet cause I was going out and, gosh darn it, I was going to buy something. I didn't know what, but I was going to peruse someone else's stuff and find at least one thing, some forgotten, overlooked thing, and make it mine. Heaven knows I don't need one more plastic dinosaur to pick up, and I have more brightly patterned sundresses than any three girls could possibly wear this summer, but I was betting money I just might find that one completely unexpected, have-to-have-something-or-other, thing. Because, after all, it was Saturday morning, and I actually went to bed last night knowing that when I woke up I had this plan to get up and go. Plus, I had promised I would return with donuts. So finding a new treasure to boot would just make the morning...perfect. And, turns out I didn't even need honey's cash, because I scored this baby for three bucks!

And, speaking of treasures... we decided to head to the park to take her for a spin (after our donuts of course!), and there were more treasures to be found.

Audrey has an eagle eye for all things forgotten and overlooked. She finds treasure everywhere. I love that about her.

Katelyn loved building this bucket of flower goodness with Nana. She's our treasure for sure.

Sunday at the park...

So, today instead of heading off to church, we headed off to the park. After packing the trunk full of park essentials... sand toys, shovels, tape measure, an American flag (don't ask), scooters, and loading three squirmy girls into the car, we shoved off. Our first stop was Starbucks, as all good adventures should begin with a tasty beverage. Half way up the hill to the park, I was fingers-crossed wishing there would be no little league gamers that would surely spill out a multitude of craziness into the park. Because, although I had jumped onto the let's-go-to-the-park-instead-of-church band wagon last night at bedtime, I was still hoping for the peace and quiet of a good sabbath morn. Turns out, Sunday mornings are the perfect time for park going. And, today was oh so beautiful. Sun shining, a picnic blanket spread out on the grass, kids happily scooting by, pumping legs, digging sand, quiet, breezy, ahhhh... That's why I'm easy, easy like Sunday morning...

Things I Love...

So, I'm not a big fan of favorites- much to my husband's consternation, who just can't get that for me, throwing around the word favorite willy nilly is both reckless and, oh I don't know...binding? Favorites is one thing, but things I love? Well, that's much easier. I love the way rain smells on dry dusty asphalt after a warm dry spell. I love the way my baby's warm squishy body cradles my shoulder when I am rocking her to sleep, her sweet baby fragrance circling the air between us. I love listening to the Violent Femmes while driving with the windows down in my car on a warm still-spring, not-quite-summer afternoon with the wind blowing my hair and the sun tickling my cheeks. I love smelling my big girls' stinky feet when I sneak in to give them one last kiss before I go to sleep- a remnant of their baby hoods, which seem to be slipping through my fingers as if I were trying to hold the wind. I love old movies on cold, blustery days. I love dusty old antique stores that have rows and rows of dusty old trinkets from days gone by. And, speaking of dusty old, I love, love, love, the smell of old worn books, and the crispness of their yellowed pages that haven't seen the light of day in who knows how long. Yes, I could go on an on about the things I love... just don't ask me to choose my favorite.

Life in My Backyard...

From as far back as I can remember I have always wanted to be a mother. I yearned for a house full of laughing, loving, living, but one that was clean and organized as well. Now that I am a mother- to three beautiful daughters- I am realizing that what I once thought motherhood to look like is not what it is. Where I once imagined control and peace and order is now filled with singing, twirling, toys scattered behind, and the forever "mess" of fresh art being created where ever the whim springs. I love the spring and summer because the art pours outside as well. I have to admit that had this been my first child, I would have rushed to keep those strippy leggings clean while the art was being made. But I have learned (ok, AM learning) that life is messy. Art is all around, and that is where we find the unexpected. Unexpected beauty. Unexpected joy. Unexpected life. As I took this picture, my older girls were chasing bubbles floating past, and my little one, drawn to the happiness of color, made her way to the chalk. She picked up the chalk and became part of the art evolving in my backyard each day. I love it. I grabbed my camera, totally let go of the dishes undone in the kitchen and the toys spilled out on the carpet, and took up my seat to witness life. My life. The kind of life I always never knew I wanted. My messy, loud, colorful life. I wouldn't trade these girls in this life for one perfectly organized minute.

Gardening...

Someone asked me the other day if I liked to garden. I stood there for a moment trying to formulate an answer that did justice to both my desire to have a beautifully manicured garden and the futility of said endeavor given the presence of my three girls, and my eyes scanned my backyard, noting each good intended beginning I had made to plant sweet smelling, brightly hued loveliness; to bring the wilderness outside my back door into submission. There, amidst the dainty white blossoms and in the shadow of the birch trees, were my sweet smelling, brightly hued girls, who had ripped out flowers and weeds alike as they proceeded to create a rock school- not as in guitars riffs and drum beats, but as in actual rocks. As we both stood there looking at their progress, all I could say was, "Yes. I grow imagination."