this moment in time

Fresh snow fell in the night. It is stunning. Looking out my window is like looking at the cover of this book. After days of gray and old, sad, snow, the clean mounds of untouched white are reminding me how cozy winter can feel.

I missed my walk this morning. The baby needed me. No sooner did I get out to the kitchen than another “baby” called for me, not feeling her best. So two middle sisters sit in the family room under blankets, watching Little House on the Prairie, the lamplight glowing on their yellow hair and sweet faces.

By now we should be a beehive of activity, but I’m taking my cues from the quiet snow slowly falling, and letting the big growing boys sleep a bit extra. We’ll get there. Soon enough I’ll wake them to the news that the driveway needs to be tended to, but for now it’s a warm haven of rest here inside. Let’s pause for a moment.

I’m looking at my children this week and knowing how quickly they will change and I’ll forget who they are right now. So, in this little pause, I’ll take a moment to write a few word pictures for my future self.


Jameson, leading the pack
Jameson is so, so tall. He’s grown quite a few inches since September, when the jeans I bought him still had growing room (and are now high waters.) The good news is his clothes show no wear and are ready for William. The bad news is… well, a whole new wardrobe 1/2 way through winter! His voice is dropping, dropping, dropping. His face is changing. It’s like a newborn all over again — changes right before your eyes. He is good at many things, and I am watching, praying, wondering what strengths will rise to the surface in the next few years, waiting to be developed and turned into a life’s work. He’s playing Mozart and Schumann and “real music” and I love it (and do my best to not give too much input!) He plays sensitively, intuitively, and it’s no wonder. He is incredibly intuitive and perceptive. He sees and senses, just like Ryan. Although there are the moments he provokes a little sister just because the response is apparently entertaining, he generally sets a tone of harmony and enjoyment. Whenever he’s away, I’m amazed by the amount of shape this oldest son lends to our family. We flounder a bit when he’s not around, and I love that.


William, diligently reading while in a meeting with Ryan.
William is a head shorter than Jameson and it’s easy, in the shadow of that giant, to miss how much he’s grown, too. His eyes still twinkle, but his face is changing. He’s quiet until he’s not (oh my, he can talk to me forever when there’s a playoff game to retell!), wakes every day with an agenda and easily gets overwhelmed before he’s even begun. Oh, how much I relate to this second son of mine! He loves his friends, and I smile whenever I notice how extra-sparkly his eyes get when he’s in a conversation. Those conversations happen once in awhile via FaceTime now, as he’s joined the ranks of Lego Leaguers, and my disciplined boy suddenly needs a 5 minute warning because this is all just too much fun. He’s generous and takes careful care with any money he earns — not because he’s hoarding, but because he has giving in mind.


Beatrice, our tall and slim oldest girl. As sincere as ever, with no pretense, no attempts to hide or manage her thoughts before expressing them. She is as slow as molasses in January and doesn’t seem to have any other speeds, but oh, she’s happy and cheerful the whole time she is cleaning or studying or adjusting her mittens. She laughs at the boys’ jokes and is starting to contribute to that whole dynamic. She reads as voraciously as ever and we chuckle at all of her mispronunciations — and she laughs so easily and readily, too, never taking herself too seriously. Never one for pretend, more than ever I have to occasionally “assign” playtime with her sisters, as books or writing or drawing will always be more appealing.



Fiona has discovered a new passion: reading! I am marveling, for the fourth time as though it were the first, at how those letters and sounds and phonics rules all suddenly come together one day and a child is reading. I’m not one to push very hard, simply chipping away at all of the basics and gently easing into beginner readers when it seems my child is ready. Fiona delighted all fall in our reading times together, gobbling up Dick and Jane (although I always wonder if it’s reading they love, or sitting in a quiet room with just Mama, tucked under my arm with a book), but when I was away in Virginia, she suddenly began to read. How does that happen? I don’t even know. It’s like magic. Two months ago she was reading BOB books, and now she’s on her third Cobblestreet Cousins book in two weeks. Fiona is the most unique and enjoyable personality. She’s friends easily and readily with everyone, doing her best to include and bless (which can land her in a pickle once in awhile, but even there, she seems to know when to stick to her guns.) She loves to draw and sat with her cocoa the other day and told me she was like a real author, hot drink, pencil and pad of paper, gazing out the window for ideas. I love it. She’s going to be selling the book she’s working on someday, she told me. She is the opposite of Beatrice and gets lost in a world of pretend the very moment she’s released from chores or school. Hours of play, indoors or out, and it makes me so happy to watch her. Ruthie is her dependable playmate, and I can’t even imagine how many days worth of pretend they have clocked together!


Cecily is growing, growing, growing — but still little and delightful. Oh, she makes us all laugh! Her expressions are a riot, her dramatics both entertaining and exasperating. She adores her siblings and is painfully aware of how often the older four leave her behind. Turning four was very exciting but has perhaps let her down, as it wasn’t the magic ticket into life with the school kids. She would sit at the table and do sticker books, magnet dolls, tracing book, or whatever for hours and hours, but also is thrilled when Fiona is free to play make believe. Her chubby cheeks are my favorite and I’ll be so sad when that round face disappears along with her funny speech. She randomly bursts into song, and lately it’s been Jingle Bells (“Bells on Papa ring” is my favorite line!), or snippets from A Christmas Carol. She doesn’t sing quietly. It’s Ethel Merman or nothing. As lively as she is, she’s also still so attached to Ryan and me, or her sisters. She simply can’t imagine life without one of us right nearby, and it’s so sweet.


Enid! Oh, sweet and sassy baby, growing up so quickly right before our eyes! Running races through the house on her little baby legs, laughing with Cecily. Learning to say the names of the most important people in her life. Funny little things she notices and imitates that leave me laughing. Two weeks ago, I realized every time I brought her to my room for her nap, I would get her settled in my arms to nurse and she would smile up at me and give a big exaggerated sigh. I knew from her expression that she was imitating me — must be I sighed every day to unwind and settle in. Oh, it made me laugh! And every night I say, “Good night, I love you,” and she says it back to me now. How endearing! Of course, in between those endearing moments are some of the most challenging toddler moments of my life, as she is never just playing happily but always has an idea of what to get into next, whether it be a pen she found or the puzzle cupboard while we’re doing devotions or the bathroom sink or whatever. She’s feisty and if I’m not finding her getting into trouble, I’m hearing her yell at a sibling who won’t give her what she wants. But how we dote on her, despite all that, and how she gobbles up the center of attention! She runs to greet Ryan, eats all the clementines I’ll give her, sleeps almost predictably every afternoon, and is just so very alive.

It’s Christmas!

And are we really here? The day before the day, the day of anticipation that only escalates even in our sleep tonight? The day of last preparations — Mama watching for UPS anxiously, cookie plate assembled for tonight’s little family party, clothes ironed and matching ties and bows all at the ready, special foods planned and partly assembled. A last vacuum, candle stick filling, kitchen tidying. A last day to get ready, but really, whatever does or doesn’t happen, who cares? Tonight the cork will pop — the waiting and whispering and wrapping with its pressure of expectancy will burst into celebration!

I am determined to just ride this wave and stay in the moment — to not mourn the passing of another December, the last year my children were 13 and under, the year I failed in this way or that. No, today is a gift to open and enjoy, to trust in the faithfulness of God to continue to give the gifts of new mercies wrapped in new days.

And what a pile of those gifts were mine to open this year! Days full of newborns and nieces, Dickens and ringlets, family and parties and cookies and Christmas music in the early mornings. A beautiful little tree with pretty packages tucked beneath, but most of all the clear reminder that Christmas isn’t about looking back to a point in time, but a time for looking ahead to a Second Coming — one when the fullness of Joy to the World breaks forth and all eyes behold the glory of our King. This, this is why we celebrate so big. It’s an expectation and anticipation that finds shape in December, but oh, that it would shape my every day in a deeper way. Time to make ready. The Lord is come!

H O M E

I’m home! Our tree is decorated! There are cookies in the tins, awaiting frosting and sprinkles! The washing machine is running and my suitcase is empty and Instacart filled our bare cupboards!

My four oldest were a smashing success in their opening night of A Christmas Carol. Yet again, a wonderful experience for them, surrounded by encouraging peers and kind adults and fabulous talent (which they think is completely normal and perhaps will be quite surprised to grow up and find that not every rural population can orchestrate and direct and choreograph and set design and costume and then sing, act, and dance the way this population can!) This has been their December thus far, and I’m so glad to be here to see the final product. Truly wonderful. William’s touching five minutes of Young Scrooge brought me to tears. You should go see it if you can.

And my December thus far wrapped up with a plane trip home for my two littles and me. After eleven days with my sister’s family, it was time to return — and I’m so glad to be back at the helm of my little ship, but if only Virginia were not so far away. Being with Carina was every kind of special. Even without a brand new baby whose arrival I witnessed (miracle upon miracle, ever time!), a whole week and a half to just be with their family, helping and loving and watching and laughing and getting to know those little personalities (or rather, big personalities in small bodies!) better than ever — what a privilege and gift.

I’m so blessed to have sisters who are closest friends. We don’t just share mutual memories — we share each day going forward and are eager to be a part of helping and encouraging the future we’re walking out in the Lord.

I’m also so very blessed to have four oldest children who gladly gave up their mama for eleven days (because they truly love Ricky and Carina as much as I do) and who were nothing but cheerful, friendly, responsible, and capable the entire time I was gone. Ryan kept praising them to me, and whenever I was able to FaceTime them, I could instantly sense their joyful camaraderie. My time away was so sweet because I never for a moment was concerned about the ones back home.

Ryan sent me a video — and this is just a screenshot, obviously, but before I could even be impressed by Fiona’s excellent reading, I was overwhelmed by the way Jameson served breakfast each day just because he honors me: candles lit, scrambled eggs in covered casserole dish, Christmas dishes used.

Or this photo that almost made me cry — evidence of big brothers playing happily with little sisters, making their dreams come true:

Several years ago, after thousands of days of investing in young children, I suddenly felt that glimpse of where we were heading: to a place where we would be able to give and reach beyond our little family circle because my children had been invested in and taught and were ready to bear weight as we opened our arms to the world around us. And I saw that this month — my children making it possible for me to go and bless. Very amazing.

So I’m logging these memories, knowing that I am about to be whisked into the beautiful busyness of Christmas celebrations, not the least of which includes Victorian ringlets and vitamin C by the boatload for my young thespians. Happy Friday everyone!

family memories

Where do I start? After spending November waking up in the middle of the night with my mind full of details and planning and excitement, my alarm went off at 4am on November 20th, and we were off! Ten days all together, driving 2,700 miles to visit family in Virginia and Florida, with swimsuits and Christmas presents and coloring books and snacks all packed into our van.

And now it’s all but over. Another memory to recall.

Long 13 and 15 hour drives with kids who never once complained. Except for Cecily, who took awhile to understand that we were actually going to be in the van all day, they never even asked the whiny, “How much longer??” The van would look like a bomb went off, pencils and books and stray fruit snacks everywhere, and the boys would cheerfully tidy it up the next day, getting us ready for the next leg of the journey. We cheered every time we crossed a state border, and noticed the changes in trees and landscapes along the way. McDonalds breakfasts at 8 were our ritual. Hours and hours of audio books, music, and just silently watching cars go by. All with my favorite people.

Virginia time with Carina and her family — where we got to celebrate a birthday, visit their new church, tour a battlefield and a plantation, and I enjoyed morning walks in sneakers instead of winter boots.

Florida was a birthday party for my mother in law, Thanksgiving with a full table of food and family, pool time and Turkey trots, and putting up the Christmas tree all together. It was so special.

Then back to Virginia, to be with a sister who was already in the early part of labor when I arrived. A quick goodbye to Ryan and the four oldest kids, and now I’m settled in here for a few more days, sharing early mornings with nieces, making food and running laundry, going on outings, and getting to dote on the tiniest and sweetest new baby.

My heart is full and thankful.

*****

another first day.

On Tuesday, we had our last day of summer, celebrated with a family outing to Lake Placid and the top of Whiteface. Ryan and I each strapped a little girl to our back, and we all climbed that last 425 feet to the top. (Fiona the Fearless was like a mountain gazelle once we reached the top and there was the summit to explore.) It was a perfect day of sunshine and clear views, new shoes and ice cream cones.

Yesterday we dove into a brand new school year. I just love being with my kids. Managing our routines and connecting with individual needs while moving us along as a whole each day is challenging — and then of course remembering that I’m still the cook when dinner time rolls around! But while some days are more smooth than others, I wouldn’t trade this for the world. The years are short, and I’m so glad they’re here with me. The investment is enormous, but it’s also weighty: days of math pages and consonant sounds and gerunds and butterflies bursting and charting of Nazi invasions — they are days of talking and living Jesus out loud. Chores, character training, piano practice, sibling interactions all opportunities to see us grow into our destiny, responding by faith to the grace of the gospel and purposing each day to yield ourselves to the good works prepared for us to walk in.

As we capped off the first day, I sat in a circle of women — sisters — and pondered the incredible courage and investment of Moses’ mother. And investment that set him apart and positioned him to respond to the call of God on his life. She knew the years were short, too, and she made them count.

Lord, I want to make this year count. Be glorified.


found in William’s nature journal — my child who doesn’t love art and thinks himself unable, but has learned to obediently engage and do his best. I couldn’t believe how lovely it was.

Fiona is six! (in lots of photos)

This five year old turned six on August 25, and we celebrated with her much anticipated rainbow themed party! When I say much anticipated, I mean that we sat together in FEBRUARY and jotted down all of her thoughts. Ever since, she has regularly flipped to that page in my planner and just looked at the magical words at the top: “Fiona — 6!”

Her special party that happens only once. A theme, friends to fill the table (her friend list was composed mostly of parents and siblings — how sweet!), games and favors and real invitations (except I got behind and had to do evites, but she didn’t care). This all means special chats with Mama about what food you want and which napkins to choose. It means a special shopping day to buy the balloons and skewers and other supplies just for your party. It means a week with special preparations each day. It means seeing tabs open on Mama’s laptop with directions for rainbow cakes and ideas for party favors and so many things that are all about YOU.

And so she turned six on a beautiful, perfect August day, with friends and fanfare because we love her so very much. Fiona is pure delight. She is friends with everyone, has an imagination that keeps her entertained all day and makes her eyes sparkle, sings and dances and plays piano and giggles and climbs trees and creates play houses in the trees and just never stops being happy and easy. Her eyes are huge and don’t miss a thing, and she’d rather learn from other siblings’ mistakes than make her own, and for the most part, she does. She does her chores faithfully with hardly any reminder. She’s incredibly patient with her younger sisters and intuitively knows how to keep them happy. And she loves people.

I am so eager to see who this young lady will someday be, but feel so incredibly privileged to be here for the little girl years. I get to hold her hand and braid her hair and guide her in wisdom and listen to her little and big woes. I get to be her mama. What a wonder.

I love you so much, Fiona Elspeth.

Some rainbow preparations

Ready for church on her birthday morning

Waiting for guests

They’re here!

Her face in the background as her “surprise” plan was revealed!

Games, gifts, shared appreciation, and rainbow fairy wands outside in the sunshine — while Fiona happily soaked it all in.

This beautiful little girl. Picture taken by Jameson — didn’t he capture her sweetness so very well?