Post Category → family

Fiona’s 2nd birthday

Second birthdays are just so much fun. They are finally old enough to get it, but more than just getting it, these little people revel in being celebrated! Fiona doesn’t have a lot of words to say yet, but when I would say, “It’s almost your birthday!”, she would respond very clearly and excitedly with, “CAKE!”

So when she woke up on August 25 and I was pouring chocolate batter into cake pans, I’m pretty sure she couldn’t have gotten any happier if she’d tried!

We were in the middle of painting the kitchen floor, so I brought our cake and our pjs over to my parents’ house for a quick birthday party.

Pardon the number of similar photos. Her expressions are, to me, absolutely priceless!

July

It was a fly-by summer, like no other I’ve ever experienced. June days that hovered wet and cold around 50* made way for the months of July and August which were busy. But we did live, and since this blog is my family journal of sorts, I would feel badly to just pick up in September as though 10 weeks of our lives pooled away into thin air! So, a blog blitz of sorts.

I wrote this at the end of July:

We’ve been slowly ramping up since spring, heading toward what we knew would be another busy summer. And it has been. No garden days — I’m just happy to mow the lawn and pull out the most offensive weeds, planning what I will do “someday” this summer. No beach days — somehow the super hot ones seem to fall on the days that find me sitting with phone and laptop ALL DAY LONG. Not even many picnics in our own yard! BUT. Sounds of kids playing for hours and hours on their bikes, with their balls, picking wild berries and catching butterflies. Evening strolls around the house, inhaling the air and sight of whichever new flowers have opened (because perennials are just too forgiving when it comes to a lack of garden days!)

In the middle of days that just fly by and I’m lucky if the laundry is caught up, there are opportunities to pause. Isn’t that wonderful? To hold a chubby three-year-old hand as you walk down the hall; to sweep the toddler-baby off her feet as she runs ecstatically, calling your name; to pull my too-close-to-7 year old boy in for a hug which he always gladly reciprocates; to caress the still-soft cheek of my lanky oldest as he tells me a story. To embrace my husband when he walks in the door long after dinner, kiss him deeply and feel some of his tension melt. And for me, for us: to cut flowers after my walk and slip to the bakery for a treat of a breakfast, turning an empty-cupboard morning into a huge treat.

Besides trying my best to be all there and not miss those few precious moments of connecting and making home for my little family, July was also:


Parades with the best of children!


Childhood summer happening around lots of quick trips to Potsdam.


A trip to Maine with all of us.

Wide expanses of ocean, and family time.

A most-laid-back week for me and the kids on the St Lawrence river with my parents.

I was so thankful for those days away after (and before!) months and weeks of intense work on business endeavors. What a blessing!

they are weak, He is strong

I’m not that strong.

All it takes is pollen + pregnancy to take me down. Spiraling down, discouraged and exhausted.

“What do you not think you’re good at?” my patient husband (who’s been down this road a few times before) asks.

“Life. I’m not good at life.”

Frail. Dust. Completely broadsided by pollen, for crying out loud.

And He calls me valuable. Ransomed, not with gold or silver, but with His own blood.

You kinda got a bad deal, I mutter to the Only Wise King. I got just who I wanted, from before the foundations of the world, thank you very much.

*****

My happiest three year old in the world girl came home from a special outing with her Nana and Papa a few evenings ago, flying high, smiling, dancing, telling me all about it. But when I tucked her little body under the covers, she quietly said, “I’m just glad that I’m back here now.”

“You mean, back at our house? Or just with me?”

“With you. I like being with you.” And she rolled over and closed her sweet eyes.

And I choked a bit.

I’m home to her. She thinks that I’m, like, a real mama. I feel like a trying-really-hard-and-never-quite-sure mama. But she doesn’t think that. Somehow, she finds the nurturing love that her little soul desires in me.

Wow.

*****

I started the last load of laundry, dimmed the lights, and almost tripped over these stools.

Two stools, where at least three little people had clamored and climbed the whole time I made dinner.

They just want to be near me.

All the time.

Me, the mom who’s undone because the wrong flowers happen to be spreading pollen. They find home in me.

That’s amazing. That’s grace. That’s me being a broken, earthen vessel, and God being more than enough.

full days, full heart.

Don’t let him fool you. My boys call for me every night to come tuck them in (even though they already have their quilts up to their chins) and kiss them good night. The arms that lock around my neck are strong and wiry and all boy. I love my boys.

I love/hate that every meal would look like this if I let it. I can tell if the book I assigned them is good by how long it takes them to get hungry for lunch. Poor Beatrice. She can’t wait until I teach her to read so she can be part of that world, too. They love to read.

And I never get tired of watching them together. ALL DAY LONG. They love each other so deeply. They are such opposites, and already, I can see iron sharpening iron. They’re learning how to interact through differences, how to point out weaknesses in an encouraging way. I wonder what their future together holds. Maybe just a deep connection each time their paths cross? Or will they be shoulder to shoulder, pursuing Jesus together?

*****

We’ve had a few PJ morning walks, when my little sidekicks wake up before I can slip out of the house. Are they the cutest? I really think so. And isn’t summer all about fresh mornings spent in pajamas?

She sings. All the time, everywhere. Her favorite theme is “When the storms come, You will be there.” Yesterday, as we drove to do errands, her chatting turned to, “When I’m a big girl, I’ll sit up next to you.” I smiled and nodded, imagining trips together and long conversations and a life of having that wonderful person for a friend. She chatted on about, “And I will fill up the car with gas for you! And go into the store and buy the things. And I will order the bagels!!” Apparently ordering bagels is quite the milestone in her eyes.

*****

I know it’s almost July, and I’m still trying to realize summer has started. I’m surprised to look at my gardens and not just see daffodils — in my mind, that’s where we still are. But no. A sea of evening primrose, the start of lilies, baby gooseneck loostrife ready to pop, delphinium waving tall and proud (unless this current rainy day does them in.) And yarrow. Deep, sunshine-yellow yarrow. I’ve never fully appreciated how many perfect little flowers it takes to form one of those beautiful heads of gold.

*****

And food. The food tells me it’s not April anymore. We will eat lots of salad, in place of winter’s pb&j. Along with our CSA’s generous shares of greens, I also planted plenty of kale this year. I hope it does well, because I can certainly eat my way through a LOT of kale in a week.

She enjoys it all as much as I do. She’s a bottomless pit! While the boys sit and read, she quietly eats all of the food. ALL of it.

Sautéed garlic and spring onions, baby kale, lemon juice, and heaps of fresh basil and parsley. It makes my mouth so happy. I forget what fresh herbs taste like!

Making pretty food does something for me. Nothing fancy, just pretty. Edible sweet pea flowers, golden yellow eggs, deep red strawberries, ta-da. Even with a fridge that is bare, it feels like we’re eating like kings.

*****

Growing.

Suddenly, last week, overnight, I went from feeling round and lumpy to being quite clearly pregnant. Funny how that happens. Ryan, the boys, my friends tell me it’s true as their eyes widen and they exclaim, “Hey! Your belly!”

Sixteen weeks of baby growing in there. Already! It’s flying by. Maybe that’s why I’m so surprised to suddenly not fit in my clothes? Perhaps pulling out some stretchy-waisted pants will help me remember: there’s a baby coming.

(I love getting a peek at what this avocado-sized baby looks like. Astounding.)

*****

Even more astounding is realizing ten years of marriage has come and gone. June 25 ten years later was a much more temperate day. It also came and went with much less fanfare, but a quiet shared remembrance that Hey, today is special. This covenant is special.

*****

And this man is special. He’s talented in a hundred ways that I am not (and therefore am all the more impressed by.) He grows. Stagnant and stubborn is not his style. He wants to grow. There is always a sense that we are moving towards eternity as we live life together, because he just wants Jesus. Sometimes it’s hard, this calling to build something that is so here, but with our eyes continually lifted to then, but he crunches numbers hard because it’s faithfulness, and he treats each person like they’re deeply important because they are, and he comes home and gets smothered by adoring children because he needs space but they need love and they’re the most important to him.

He makes the most of life’s moments. He’s not a “at 7pm every night, we’ll have devotions in this particular format” kind of guy. He grabs the teaching moments and sits down right then and helps them learn how to hear from the Lord, and how to process life by His word.

So he grabs paper as soon as he walks in the door and draws a diagram to teach about executive, legislative, and judicial branches, their powers, and the breaches thereof. He talks about the American Constitution. But he talks mostly about kingdoms rising and falling, and our God reigning forever. About living lives that are sown in death and raised to life. This is “home schooling” at its best.

April, May, a bit of June.

I’ve never been two months behind in this record of our lives. I’m thankful for a real journal that continues to give glimpses into what’s going on in my heart, and for pictures, capturing days that just pass too quickly.

Today, June 9, is one of the first real rainy summer days. The green of still-new leaves on trees glows in the strange combination of sun and cloud. The scent of freshly cut peonies fills the kitchen, and a vacuumed floor helps make a cozy spot. We happily read and play and research as the sound of rain quiets. When the sun appears, the children will all run outdoors as though they’d been trapped inside for years, but for now, they all are happily content with a hemmed-in day.

*****

Two months of highlights (in no particular order) looks sort of like this:


FedEx dropping off an anticipated box.


Watching Papa Bruce assemble the basketball hoop.


Special stories with just my baby, after the big kids went to bed.


The start of William’s first baseball season.


Freedom, after months and months of record breaking lows.


Breaking out the mower for the first go-around, and loving that exhilarating feeling of wide open spaces.


Lots of baseball practices, many of which were wet and freezing cold.


Finally resuming my early-morning walks. So, so much better than indoor workouts!


Watching baby grow to girl right before my eyes.


The perfect colored peonies that were deep-down joy to me for many days.


Boys and hoses. Laughing and shrieking and having so much fun.


Missing front tooth.


Watering baby plants.


Fiona leaving my bed behind and learning to share a room with Beattie.


Beautiful baby.


Watching this one discover the outdoors for real.


Walks about town, just because.


Marvels.


Ice cream, just because.


Hot sun, lawn mowers, swim suits and hoses.


My gardens sort of accidentally grow by 6 inches every year. Gotta keep up with those spreading perennials!


God likes HOT pink, too. A lot.


Lunch for two girls at William’s restaurant.


An excursion with the whole family with an end goal of business, but that included a picnic and walk in the woods, too.


Church wipes me out, too.


This, almost every day. Because #5, you know.


Setting out taco stuff (98% of which required me to open a package and stick in a spoon) resulted in, “We get to make our own??! You’re the best Mom EVER!”


Picking out paint colors at Lowes, because that’s way better than being bored.


Exulting in a finished year!


Loving to spend time with these happy kids.


Breath taken away by how lovely and unique this girl is.


And how old this one is getting.


Loving this one’s enthusiasm for whatever it is he’s doing.

Best of all?





Incredibly special moments making known what happens in a quiet, child-like way every day, all day.

*****

Easter

Another month, gone.

March flew faster than I had time to even realize. According to photos, there were innumerable sick days, basketball games, watching wildlife from the windows, dinners consisting of comfort food, boys performing, and… that’s pretty much it.

*****

And this past week, there was the Resurrection to celebrate.

Food,

Reflection,

The boys’ first Seder,

Clothes and table,

Fiona’s first basket of goodies,

Family time after church.

*****

A truly special celebration. An annual hard-stop that my soul really benefits from. We push pause on whatever devotional track we’ve been on and just read along with Jesus’ activities during Holy Week. “Keep the kids quiet for a bit” meant working on their Holy Week coloring books I assembled (which they didn’t begin to finish, but that’s okay.) We talk about crucifixion, more than just the passing, “Jesus died for us,” that is our habit the rest of the year. This year, we sang the same two hymns every day, and can I tell you how wonderful it is to have two children old enough to follow along in their hymnals? And when we sang one of those hymns at the Good Friday service, and their eyes lit up with the pride of, “Hey, Mom, that’s our song!”, I just smiled. Treasures tucked into hearts. And for me, treasure unearthed and dusted off and reevaluated — and found to be even more precious than ever before.

*****

Monday is sometimes hard for me after Easter. I wake up and realize the laundry is not miraculously gone and replaced by eternally-clean robes quite yet. My hair is nappy and I stink after exercising, since my body is subject to entropy and wear and tear. Kids get on my nerves by simply appearing too early, proving that I am still living quite firmly in the Not-Yet, needing sanctification. And these, I know, are small potatoes (embarrassingly small) when compared to the trials being experience by brethren around the world — even just down the street! But they are real, and they clue me in to this: I am yet groaning along with creation, looking for Jesus to come and make all things new. (Best, best, best promise ever.)

So this morning, as rumples appeared by the myriad in my soul, I thought about the stories following that wonderful Resurrection. I thought about this promise: “You shall receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you.”

Today, rumples and wrinkles, bumps and bruises, trials and temptations: TRUE.

But, even more true, and far more amazing: POWER of GOD to be a witness in the midst.

POWER of GOD in this very, very normal, nothing-special kitchen. This very earthly pile of crusted breakfast dishes. This list of not-very-Books-of-Acts-ish duties.

POWER of GOD. IN ME.