Privilege

Two Saturdays ago Pete brought Evie into our bedroom around 7 in the morning. On the days he is home, he takes care of our early risers and usually let’s me sleep in. By seven he’s been up at least an hour (!?). Yea, I don’t get it either… but, it’s a very nice treat to say the least :) He brought her in a little early that day because soon we’d be on our way to San Antonio. He put E onto the bed and she hustled toward me, smiles and all. She found me right at the edge of the blanket, just waking up. She rested her head down on  my chest, sort of hugging me and would look up, smile and then do this hugging me thing all over again. It was the SWEETEST. I hope I never forget that moment.

Later that morning we were scurrying along, changing diapers, packing last minute items. I think the nostalgia was getting to me, because in less than an hour I’d be parting from my babies for a weekend. I know it was nostalgia, because I wanted to cry thinking of it. But it really is such a privilege to do this. To get to be the mom in their lives. To raise them. Read to them. Teach them about this world. Teach them about the love of God, but how could I ever do this justice? Being the mom terrifies me but lately it has been weighing on my heart on how much of a privilege it is to get to watch them discover the world, become the people they were created to be, take interests, make friends, stumble with failure and heartbreak, piece their world back together again. All of it.

Sometimes being a stay-at-home mama gets lonely, I won’t lie. Most nights I fall over exhausted after a long day with most of my “to do” list still on the counter, some days completely forgotten about. I turn in earlier these days, mostly because I’m not 21 anymore and my body demands sleep, or claims insanity the next morning. There is also this insane list that doesn’t even ever get written down. The list of things I’d like to try, or paint, or draw. Create.

But for now at least, I’m trading most of that in. Pieces, crumbs, messes, slobbery kisses and hugs that feel more like a three year old boy tackling you, shoes lost somewhere behind the couch and hysteria over the one toy both kiddos can’t seem to be able to live without. But woven through all of that chaos are memories that make me want to go and kiss that blonde headed little baby girl hours after she’s turned in and laugh thinking about the crazy things Joseph came up with that particular day.

I feel a lot of peace over a lot of the work I’ve let go last year. And I know there will be a day, too soon I’m sure of it – that I’ll have more free time than I know what to do with, for a while at least. Until then I’ll squeeze in my art sessions during naps and write before the sun rises and babies wake.

Life is short. And this part of it is just a privilege. There’s no other word that sums it up better.

This past week, Evelyn took her first real steps, while holding a sippy cup with homemade sherbet ice cream AND also had her first pig tails (which of course didn’t last longer than five minutes…;).

A few months after I finished college I found myself searching for a job in the art world. I turned down a job for teaching because I knew right out of college, teaching was not my passion. I had a handful of interviews, and even a few offers. Pete and I had just come back from NYC and art history was pumping through my veins. I felt driven, inspired more than ever to just dive in. I found a little art gallery in the Galleria, who at the time offered me a position. It was full time and part of the job requirement (really loose word, obviously) was four paid trips to NYC a year. The only problem with the job was the shift. I’d never see Pete. Like, ever. Maybe Sundays. At the time he was working seven days a week, twelve hour shifts with the exception of Sundays, and our marriage was so, so new. I knew it would never work. I think back to that decision to let that position go. It could have led to a lot of things I thought I wanted in life, so badly. But at the heart I think I’ve always known that THIS is what I wanted, moments that money or even new horizons can’t buy.

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Watercolor Hearts

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This week we had a painting date. Joseph has been dying to join me in the kitchen with the projects ive been working on. It gets complicated, because as soon as he’s up on the counter “helping” me, Evie is instantly bored and wants in on the action. Naturally :)

So one afternoon while Evie was catching Z’s, we had our painting time, and he was so excited. And the photos are very telling – he is a very concentrated painter.

What you need:

+ Illustration board (watercolor paper might work too, though I haven’t tried the blue tape on it)

+ painter’s tape

+ watercolors (Prang are the best!!)

You can lay out the tape in any shape or letter’s you’d like and then paint over liberally. Painting over the tape won’t affect the image at all. Once the paint dries, gently lift the paint off the illustration board and watch the letters and shapes magically appear :)

Golden Sun

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Will you take me even now?

Will you love the new person I’ve become?
I’ve searched high and low for the shadows of who this person was before.
I see the books she used to read, the clothes she used to wear. She was so hopeful, naive leaving this ghost house in tact, assuming that she’d return

the same.

I’ve spent the past almost five years mourning my daughter.

But I’ve come full circle and I see her all around me. I planted her, and she grew. Not the experience I hoped for, by a long shot. But our relationship is just that.

Ours.

My relationships under the golden sun feel very beat on. Worn.

I realize that the persons on the other end haven’t changed much, though staring back at them a person that not even I recognize.

Things have become so comfortably unrecognizable that I’m okay with who this person is now. It once scared me, but it doesn’t anymore.

But I can feel the outside world giving it their very best to get along with the girl they once knew. Connect with her, though she isn’t the same. They no doubt wonder a lot, maybe not at all. Chalking it up to something frivolous.

But she wasn’t frivolous.

She was my daughter, and now that I have a daughter to raise her on this brown earth and under the golden sun, I know.

I know what I’m missing.

The gap rends my heart, but this heart soaks up those tears.

Be thankful.

And I drown in so much thankfulness.

My heart bursts, I can barely wrap my mind around how quickly (retrospectively, of course) things got better after they were so, so horrible.

But rising in the aftermath is something I didn’t see coming.

A survivor. War paint is often involved, in paint and charcoal. Dirt from a little boy and smudges of bananas from the most heavenly baby hands. A woman with mostly the same interests, but she isn’t the same.

Will you take this person still?

She misses who she used to be too, but there isn’t a path that leads back. Only forward.

I read once “don’t look back, you’re not going that way”.

Oy.

How complete. How true. And a little sad.

I can’t change back. I refuse to try anymore. She didn’t die to leave me the way I was. She died, and whether or not I believe it was God-ordained, that changed me in and out and every which way you can possibly imagine. It’s a transformation that took flight the moment her soul flew from this earth.

I entered the last year of my twenties this past weekend and when it finally hit me that day, I was a little sad. A decade ready to be behind me, almost. This decade has been the decade of school days, marriage, babies. It has transformed me in the most excruciating, and at the same time, in the most rewarding ways.

I start this year with a deep breath. Time flies when all you want to do is sit and soak it in. This year feels like one long goodbye to the baby years, the pregnancy days and all that comes with carrying precious new life, a goodbye to so many firsts. I look forward to this next decade – hopefully the one where we get to see them start school, and get to know our littles a lot, lot more. And see them become the beautiful souls they were created to be.

Maybe I’m not supposed to recognize this person I’ve become, maybe it’s an ever-changing transformation. One that I’m not in charge of. One that is divinely orchestrated. One I don’t really have a say in, only prayers that I can someday catch up. I feel like our society is eat up with “finding yourself”. I have to admit I am drawn to soul searching, and exploring these transformations that take place after intense life situations, but I can’t spend my whole life trying to find something. I fear I’ll miss these days – the days that so many testify are the best days of your life. And I am totally convinced.

I’m still getting to know this new me. But this life is about so much more. It’s about pouring yourself into the people in your world. And finding fulfillment in giving pieces of your heart and soul away. It all comes back to you somehow, I truly believe it does.

Until then, I’ll enjoy the ride under this golden sun I’ve come to love on the sunny days and miss on the cloudy ones, so so much.

Weekending

Processed with VSCOcam with f2 presetbirthday partyantique store downtown tomball face painted Batman walkingattitude is everythingbirds of a feather antique storefull of life <3 these two. ice cream. yum!thrift store thriftingI feel like I don’t write enough about my babies here. The truth is our days are so full. My inboxes are usually overflowing and the projects I am trying to finish up just keep multiplying. That’s how I roll, I multitask and crash, make popcorn and then try to write something worth reading. I try to remember the words I wished I’d penned somewhere on the way home (passenger seat). But at the end of every day, I’m the last one to turn in. The night light in Joseph’s room is beaming into the hallway a little and if Evelyn’s monitor was turned up all the way I could probably hear her snoring in the next room. She snores, I just love it :)

She sleeps through the night and has been for some time. It’s kind of awesome. She also pretends to read – I’ll catch her flipping through books and babbling in her sweet voice. Joseph pats her back and helps her out when she coughs and he still calls her his baby. I watch them both with so much wonder and I hold them so close it hurts. I feel privileged to be called to be their mama. Day in, day out. With all my shortcomings, forgetful habits, strings of never-ending to-do lists, and on-the-fly adventures. Lately it’s become more real than ever that we won’t ever be welcoming a new baby into our home again. That beautiful season of new parenthood is behind us. Over. Forever. I cried when it finally hit me. I think when Evelyn was born, I was just so… ready. Ready for her to be here, ready for pregnancy to end, ready to feel good about myself again. Just ready. Pregnancy for me is kind of a roller coaster, if you don’t know our whole story. So when that sadness came over me, I didn’t see it coming, but it kind of struck me weird that I hadn’t been sad. So I was a little relieved to feel “normal” about this. I wasn’t sad because I had “baby fever”, but it was just another goodbye. Another season of life that has passed. I look back, and this whole season of going from a college student/ wife, to a mom… it’s changed me through and through. I don’t like change, and when I see it in myself it downright scares me. But in this season of becoming a mama for the first, second and third time, I’ve learned more about love and trust and patience and LIFE than in all twenty nine years of my life.

These littles – I owe them everything. Our loss changed me, but so did becoming a mom. I’ve learned to let my idea of “perfection” go and just take what life gives you and make the best of it. Being a mama is hands-down the most humbling experience, to know you have one shot to give these amazing little souls every thing you got. And that God trusts you to do it right. That is amazing. It never stops being amazing.

He is a Mirror

He’s been a bit wiry lately. Whiney. Complaining. A little (or a lot) out of sorts. My patience meter is looking a little worn and tattered right now. I find myself talking more sternly than I ought to. There has been some unexpected drama visit our world as of late, and it only batters down that patience meter even more. I keep remembering the person I want to be this year. The mother. The wife. The friend. And real life has a way of putting you to the test, like now.

I forget that he is mirroring what he sees.

Read the full post on The Mob Society here.

Boy mom

Christmas

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I’m finally getting a chance to go through the Christmas pictures. As you can probably tell, I have no idea what I’m doing with my camera in the dark, early morning :) Blurry pictures do tell a story though, don’t they? The hustle, the life, the work or lack thereof put into a photo and the immediate necessity to just capture it already – regardless of it’s quality. #herestomorecrappyphotos

In all seriousness I put “learn to take better pictures” on my 2014 list of goals. We’ll see how that one goes. I get bored reading about ISOs and whatever else it all involves, but I’d like to get better.

Back to Christmas. Christmas was so good. It was actually more like a week of festivities, and we’re right near the end of it. Saturday was Christmas at Pete’s mom’s house, Monday was our seventh anniversary, Tuesday we spent some times playing games and watching the cousins tear up my sister-in-law’s house, Wednesday was a day of travelling, cooking, relaxing, presents and catching up, tomorrow we hopefully get to celebrate the seven years (that actually feel more like two decades) of marriage (yay!), and Sunday… our baby turns a whopping ONE. First of all, that isn’t happening. I’m in denial. Something about her party in two weekends from now will help it feel more official. I think. Second, I just want a break from my break :) I’m exhausted, but a good and full exhausted. The kind of exhausted that makes you want to take a super long nap just so you can jump up and start all these ideas rolling around in your head. And then hug and squeeze life and be okay with a few things slipping out of your hands just as long as the important things stick around.

So somehow we survived Christmas. And when I say “we” I’m actually talking about myself. My family rocks and rolls this time of year. Evelyn has learned their ways. I was holding my breathe and just waiting. I thought it might catch me by surprise. Grief, you know? Christmas Eve I decided I wanted to go down to Texas Children’s and donate a parking pass for another NICU family in need. A family member did that for us when Jenna was in the NICU and well, that gift brought me to tears. I hope it touches someone else. It made Christmas feel more complete and special being down there and doing something in her honor. I won’t get to meet that family but I was able to write them a little card of encouragement and I got to use one of my own cards for it :) I went to visit Jenna afterward at the cemetery. I felt completely inadequate because I didn’t have any flowers or gifts to bring her but I wanted to see her. I talked to her. I feel so strange talking to her, but after a few sentences of awkwardness I started to feel a connection. I doubt she can hear me but something tells me she knows more about this life than I can see. Something about death, it is so silent. You beg in tears and heartache that you might feel a nod of agreement or a hesitant reply or a whisper in love. But the cars keep rolling by in the distance. The leaves keep rustling and falling and the sun keeps beaming on and lighting up this planet as if chaos never visited your doorstep. The world keeps turning. And then one day you find yourself turning again with it. I felt that surge right there on the ground with her. The full circle my grief has made these past four years. I have to assume it will continue to grow and learn and take on new formations.

Christmas felt like Christmas again. And it feels strange to admit it, but it’s true. I’m not leaving her behind, I am bringing her into this new world of light and peace with me. I’ll remember her in new ways and this year we really did.

Christmas felt like Christmas again. I don’t know how that happens. Do you arrive in this place of acceptance? Do you seek it actively or does it just happen? Does the full plate of raising babies water down grief for a while? The biggest question for me is, will it last? Someone once told me (in another context), that you might want a lot of good things in life, but it is what you want the most that will be yours in the end. I don’t know if that’s true for grief. I really don’t. All I know is that this place is a good place. And I will keep chasing this. The place of real pain, real peace and everything in between.

Fantasy Flight

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A few weeks ago we had the chance to join the Fantasy Flight, hosted by United Airlines. Apparently it’s something that the whole country takes part it. It’s such a neat thing! We got an invitation last year but I was all kinds of pregnant and couldn’t think about taking any extra trips, anywhere, I remember it hurting just to walk right around! Anyway, we got an invitation this year again, and it was such an amazing experience!!

We drove up the airport and from the moment you get there, everyone involved (all volunteers from what I understand!) make it feel so welcoming and real – like we are really headed to the North Pole. We even had boarding passes that had “North Pole” as the destination printed out, so neat! The airplane ride took a little over an hour, where we could watch basically anything and enjoy on a light snack. When we landed the terminal was decked out like the North Pole. There were just so many surprises, but we really didn’t know what to expect! From what I’ve learned about Fantasy Flight, it’s mostly for patients but I am assuming they extended the invitation to us because I volunteered in the Family Centered Care for the NICU. I like to think that this was one of Jenna’s gifts to us, especially her siblings. We wouldn’t be there if it wasn’t for her.  I kept thinking of that the whole time and how she continues to impact our world in some of the neatest, unexpected ways. And I welcome and smile over the fact that it is more than sadness. I couldn’t have believed that even a few years ago, but I do now.

The Week Before Christmas

IMG_5292IMG_5714 IMG_5693IMG_5694 IMG_5692 IMG_5706 IMG_5701 IMG_5675 IMG_5339 IMG_5295 IMG_5294 So this is officially my favorite, FAVORITE time of year. Twinkle lights are everywhere you look, people in general are nicer, and the weather is not blistery cold but cold enough to finally pull out boots, scarves and crazy patterned leggings. Oh, and let’s not forget hot cocoa and all the excuses to bake your little head off.

I also made it a point to close down the shop and unplug as much as possible starting this past Saturday. It’s been a breather. I’m sketching a few last orders and designs but all in all, my work load is shrinking and I’m loving the break :)

I have some plans to pull out my Pinterest boards for some  Christmas craft things. Joseph has been begging me to paint, and December’s just been so crazy we’ve only had one opportunity to actually do it.

I’ve had some dear friends contact me about my post on big changes, concerned-wise. I wanted to make a point to say that there’s no need to be concerned or worried:) Just my little brain has a hard time wrapping itself around change. Change is hard stuff. But growth is a good thing. Growing pains, they are just the painful train that gets you where you need to go. There are some sweet, precious friends and family who are being beyond supportive about these coming changes, so I just know this is the right direction. These next few weeks give my heart a much needed breather from the mundane, and room for all things cozy, crazy and ridiculous fun. I wanted to throw an ugly Christmas sweater party so bad this year, but Pete responded with a very apathetic, “I don’t think so…”. I may just buy a couple of ugly sweaters at the thrift store and throw my own party! #IGPARTYanyone?

I have a permanent pile of laundry that makes my house look messy, but lived-in, a sink full of dishes (this one is another losing battle, no?)… but this week top priority is making even bigger, more glittery (pretty!) messes. Having these babies around at Christmas time makes this time of year cozy. I want to soak it all in!

Making Spirits Bright

I caved in this year and finally got a little elf for “Elf on the Shelf”. Mostly because of this post. She spun the “elf on the shelf” idea in a way I’d never seen before. Frankly, I’ve never been able to wrap my heart around the idea of the typical “elf on the shelf” tradition of a naughty little elf making mini disasters. I suppose I just don’t have the energy to 1) make a mess and then 2) clean it up each morning and then 3) explain to my son why it’s really not okay to pour baking flour all over the kitchen floor… or something of that nature. Basically, I’m lamecity.

I also suppose I might be more into the jest of the naughty elf, but right now in our real life, we have a three year old who is going on thirteen. Read full post here.

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Real Life

The holidays are a strange beast. On the one hand they are my favorite, favorite time of year. It’s almost like people in general are friendlier, more giving, more forgiving, more compassionate. There is also this unseen magic that fills the streets, shops and stores, parks and walkways. The music seems to help creating this atmosphere that I wish I could bottle up and release like an Airwick, any time of the year when things got a little dull. On the other hand, they have a way of highlighting all the painful wounds of grief that are so easily ripped open this time of year.

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It always feels strange entering into such a time in the year that families get together and do fun things like Christmas parties, gift wrapping, gingerbread man decorating, parades… with one little one always missing. It’s not even something I talk much about outwardly anymore, but inside a mother never forgets the silhouette of all her children. In her heart she can see them together, as they should be. I find Joseph volunteering her name more and more into our daily conversation. It’s sweet is what it is. Pure sweetness. We make life what it should be. We include her when we can, we are sad because she can’t really be a part of all this. But more than anything we are so thankful.

Real life, after all, has blessed our socks off.

In real life, I am finally breaking up with my notion that Thanksgiving decorations are overrated. They totally are worth every penny. Plus Michael’s had a bunch on sale (80% off!). So that definitely made the purchase easier. Anyway, our house smells and feels like Fall. And it is absolutely MAGICAL!

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Real life is also rainy days that make it hard to take good pictures, and hauling two kids from H.E.B. to the car with a 24 pound turkey and a ham entertaining to watch. Not to mention the rain was soaking right through my cute leopard print flats.

Real life is a pile of books sitting next to my laptop that Joseph handpicked for me to read to him tonight. I brought them with me, when I moved spots to write tonight. Thinking about his little hands picking them with intention, and expectation. His heart, how he still needs me.

Sigh.

Being a mom. I will never get over how amazing this gig really is.

Real life is the time change making a shift in everyone’s sleep patterns and Bubby’s happy-go-lucky play style. He woke up at 6:30 this morning and then refused to play until nine. All the while Evie is playing but every five or ten minutes I find her searching for her play buddy. It was kind of sad! We went to the park with a friend and that more or less got him going, but this time change – not a fan. I never thought I’d say that about the time change that actually gets us more sleep.

Real life is putting something out for the world to see, and then cringing because I didn’t do this or that. Obsessing over every detail, and questioning if it was ever ready to be seen by someone other than myself.

Real life is waking up refreshed. Renewed. With promise. And encouragement. And so much love.

Real life breaks my heart, churns my soul, questions my beliefs and magnifies my doubts.

But real life is what I am thankful for tonight. To feel. To love. To give. To play a big or small part in someone else’s story.

To be.

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This post is sponsored by Fotor.

October Baking

Last year I started a little tradition with Bubby to get a big ol’ Pumpkin shaped cookie from Panera bread once October and they start making them. When he didn’t quite finish it this year, I realized why he probably didn’t finish the sugar fest before him. I took a bite and honest to goodness it wasn’t that good. I don’t want to bash Panera because I am am BIG fan of theirs, but this inspired a new idea… to start baking our own “Pumpkin cookies”. When I read about how a friend was using “Pumpkin cookies” to honor her son’s memory, it was like it was meant to be. So we did.

We busted out the sugar, flour, bought some new sprinkle packs, and got to baking. I found a pack of Halloween shaped cookie cutters for around $1 at Wal-mart.

The cookies did not last long! :)

They were so much fun to make!

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Dewberry Farm

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It’s been almost a week since we went to the “pumpkin patch”. This place is like fall heaven!! The cool weather in fall takes a little longer to get to our part of the world, and even though we don’t get the real type of pumpkin patch in Texas, this place somehow compacts everything that fall is about into one little piece of land. They spread pumpkins over this empty field every October and you can pick your own and bring it back with you. On the way to the pumpkin field you take a ride with twenty or so strangers on this wagon pulled by a tractor. Half the fun is passing through the Christmas tree farm, growing all sizes of trees. They claim to have a tree that doesn’t need lights because of it’s iridescent quality. How fun, right? Though, I don’t think I could ever pass the opportunity to string lights somewhere. That ride makes me even more excited about Christmas than I already am all year round.

It’s amazing the difference a year can make. The last time we were there I remember Bubby calling the pumpkins “balls”. This year he was pretty much voicing everything under the sun he wanted to do. Pulling Daddy three different times on the “Mountain” slide. And it might as well be a mountain! The hike up is pretty far up.

While Joseph and Pete were on the slide, me and Evie spent time with in the flower fields. I cannot wait until she is big enough to run through them! My camera ran out of battery this year, thankfully iPhone had plenty of charge to keep snapping away at this day full of memories. I hope we can come again next year. The sunflowers are my favorite part of this place.

A little rain fell while we were there, but it was actually refreshing. It was supposedly in the 80′s but goodness knows it felt more like the middle of June. Holy Texas October! I was going through last year’s recap on the ‘pumpkin patch’ and it was cold. Crazy weather, I tell you. We had originally planned to dress the kiddos in their costumes and take pictures like we did last year with Bubby but with the heat I couldn’t bring myself to go through with it! The snow cones they have came in handy for sure! This was the first year Pete got the chance to come with us, and this is what I couldn’t wait to show him one day, their snow cone oasis! He is kind of crazy about snow cones! You can get as much of any flavor as you like.

I am finally settling into this new season. Excited about baking an apple pie next month for Thanksgiving, taking the kids trick-or-treating in a few weeks (days!), and breaking out my boots as soon as the temps drop a bit!

Movement

Well, I guess it is much harder to ‘plug back in’ that I imagined it would be. The change in pace is nice. A lot of my time is spent putting finishing touches on our bedroom, which I am redoing in a beach/ coastal theme (since we can’t live on the beach right now, I’ll bring the beach to us!), and also on Bubby’s room. His room is really coming together. I hope to post pictures soon. It’s a cross between a western/ cowboy theme (but not cutesy!) and John Deere. All boy.

Anyway, the glue gun, the iron and the clearance aisles at Target see a lot of me these days.

Bubby is growing so quickly I can barely keep up. He’s asking more in depth questions. It blows my mind, and breaks my heart all at the same time. Today he kept bringing me weeds (he calls them flowers). I would gush over them, and he just kept bringing more. This age, it’s just amazing. I say it’s my favorite, but I say that about every age he is. Except the early months of three, those were hard for some reason! ;)

But he is incredible. It’s been feeling a Texas version of fall these past few days so he’s been spending a lot more time outside. I like to peek out at him. Watch him play. If he knows I’m there he’ll want me to come out, which I eventually do, but I like to watch him in his element. I always wonder what goes through his mind. Sometimes he talks to himself, almost like he’s still trying to figure out this world around him.

He also bangs on the guitar a lot, while singing “Jesus Loves Me”. He blesses me in more ways than I can even type. To the point of tears!!! I hope he learns to play one day. I’ve been wanting to get a piano back in our home. I used to play for almost nine years, off and on. I’ve talked to Pete about getting one soon, and I was so glad to see him excited about that idea too. I was never very good at playing, but I did find it therapeutic.

Since we made the decision to wait on enrolling Bubby in MDO, the thoughts have been haunting me of what we will do once he and Evelyn are old enough to be in school… do we homeschool? Christian school? Public school? Oh dear. It’s been weighing a lot on my heart. To the point that I am worried about how quickly it will be here. Evelyn isn’t even one! I really shouldn’t be worrying, but I’ve found myself worrying nonetheless.

Today it dawned on me that I never even considered to pray about it. But more than pray, to trust God that he can guide us in all of those decisions that we will have to someday make. I felt like God just reached down into my soul and reassured me that he cares.

He cares.

About every big and little thing.

He cares.

About the disappointments we feel, the grief that is always a breath away, the worries that trouble our souls more than they probably should.

He cares.

Ive been sinking my nose into more books lately. Specifically this one.

“Maybe you recall a time when you were excited about Jesus. Maybe you remember it as a phase, a part of your childhood, or as a dramatic life experience somewhere along the way. Would you like to yearn for a God-life again? Do you want to keep falling in love?… Then sink to your knees and pray… Jesus still meets you where you are. In your turning and praying, God promises his blessing.”

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Sick Day

sick daySomething about today.

I cracked.

I guess it could be that Evelyn is going on two weeks of being a little sick, and three days of being way too sick to play and talk and giggle like a normal chubby almost-nine month old. And part of it is due to my own shame. I’ve been caring for a sick one for two weeks. And it feels like an eternity since I’ve seen her playing like she would on a normal day.

You’d think I of all people wouldn’t take the “healthy” for granted, but I do. I sit here thinking about parents who are spending weeks, months, years in the hospital beds next to their young ones. Something about illness, it makes you realize how vulnerable you really are. How short life is and how big the universe can suddenly feel. And something about the healthy days, you wonder how you didn’t sanitize every thing every single night, just in case.

It turns out she just has a virus, and it just has to run it’s course.

Still, seeing her this way made me peek into my own heart and how desperately shallow it can be at times. I’ve barely glanced at Facebook and I have deliberately avoided Pinterest. That place will only make me depressed right now! I’m half-way joking. But it all feels so empty when life shakes you a little bit.

I hugged Bubby extra long tonight. He was chattering on about something, I don’t remember what but I just had to hold him. I felt like I was going to wake up in the morning and he would be all grown up. That’s about how it’s going to be, right? It will feel like yesterday he was this little. Right now he’s missing time with his sister too.

Aside from cabin fever, and a few sleepless nights all really is well tonight.

I’ve been given the chance to be their mama. And at least on the sick days I get more snuggles out of her.

Dear Bubby, The Truth Is…

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I just couldn’t go through with it.

The more I thought about someone else having the pleasure of being in your company, hearing you talk about the things that spark your interest, and sharing your time… well I just couldn’t do it.

I know the day is coming soon where it just won’t be a choice of mine.

We think four might be it. The age where we enter some kind of preschool.

But I bailed on the day before your first day.

I called your dad on his busy day of work and asked him if he had a few minutes to talk. He did.

I blurted out,”I can’t do it.” I had been holding back tears all day, but at this moment I was afraid he might be a little over my drama, and ever-changing mind. He was patient, and said… he saw it coming. I think he knows me better than I know myself sometimes.

I know there will be days.

Days where I wish I had a little break to catch up on things, or whatever… but the truth is the things… the lists… the emails… the notifications… the projects… they will always be there.

Finding a sudden break in my crazy world to get a few things checked off my list is how I’m used to running.

One more year.

I want one more year of you sweet boy.

To break the news to you, I crawled up next to you and told you that we would not be going to school tomorrow. Your big brown eyes stared up at me and assured me that you wanted to go. I shook my head and just said,”I’m sorry, not yet… but tomorrow I want to go get you some books and you can do school with Mommy, okay?”

“Okay!!! Two more naps? We go get books for school with Mommy?” you were just as excited. And you’ve been talking about the books we hope to find tomorrow since that conversation on the couch. Oh, and right now you’re pretty awesome. You count your days in naps (night time in your book is a nap too!).

Your love, sweet boy. I just can’t get over it.

UPDATE: this post… just wow.