Going to the park with Olivia:
Dinner al fresco:
Painted closets, filled with the china I’ve been waiting and waiting to use:
No rugs, mish-mash place-holding furniture, no molding, BUT. Getting there:
Tucked in the corner, ready for a new little one:
Today, I am three weeks from my due date. So, so soon, our family will change forever. We’ll meet someone we’ll love instantly, and who will change the shape of who we are.
Today, I am folding towels and sheets and washcloths and sealing them up, labeling them “clean”, and checking one more thing of my list of preparations. I am digging through a newborn box and finding receiving blankets and hats and tiny socks. Into the wash they go, too. Soon, a corner of my room will house these and other birthing items. Crazy.
Today, we did a few chores in the morning, then donned suits and packed pb&j and headed to the beach. I’ve been happy to just do pool time this summer, but the boys love sand — and since they needed baths, anyway, why not? When we left, I thought, we need to do this more. So fun.
Today, there is so much to do, so many piles — of dishes, of doorknobs in boxes, of crown molding, of tools, of books… But today is not the day for that, not really. And so I do what I can, put my feet up for a bit, and decide that we’re okay. (And tomorrow, I think I’ll paint my newly-finished closets and start putting away some piles as soon as the paint dries! Excited!!)
Today, I read Hello, Baby to my two boys, and watch as their eyes take on awe, wonder, and sparkle. A baby being born — even these little guys understand how amazing it is. Jameson volunteers in a hushed voice, “We will help you, Mama, when the baby is born.” William just smiles.
Today, I peek into their bedroom as I pass by and have to stop, just for a minute, to take in their sweet sleeping faces. Pink cheeks, fair eyelashes bleached by sun, parted lips, and little bodies that aren’t so little anymore. Today, I want to cherish these little lives. How precious they are.
These pictures sort of sum up my house these days. There’s lots of carving out corners of pretty…
…in the midst of the mess.
So much for nesting!
Thinking about…
:: God being this kind of God, and not just a god of my own imagination, the importance of the family table, and other really good Dad sermons.
:: how, when we’re at the end of our rope and can only hold onto one thing, we choose fear instead of hope, worry instead of peace, death instead of life. Why not hold onto Jesus?
:: fleeting days. Summer days, winter days; baby days, boys days — they’re all fleeting, and I don’t want to waste them or wish them away. Today is the day the Lord has made, today is the day of salvation, today is what I’ve been given to sow my life into.
:: a baby coming, and how much I can’t believe it. A baby. A real, live baby. And how amazing this process is. Does it ever cease to be amazing? (I think not.) We’re all so excited.
:: how, as I approach the birthing event, I derive so much confidence from knowing that God made me to do this. Actually, pretty much all of my confidence. Belief in a creative, loving, wise God makes all the difference in how I live and approach my life’s callings. Because God said.
:: the fun weekend I just had with Ryan, celebrating our anniversary. Just a couple days away, but so fun to spend it walking, talking, eating, and just being together. It was such a treat.
I think I work so hard at being content with winter that I can forget how wonderful spring really is.
And it really is wonderful.
[robin’s nest on our porch light]
[tulips, brought from backyard to adorn birthday table]
[endless variety bursting from buried bulbs]
to Maine and back for a fast and furious and very fun weekend with Ryan’s mom and sister.
sewing a ball gown for Cinderella. It’s awfully fun to work on something so detailed and beautiful (for someone who usually is just cutting up old polos to make play pants!)
bundling up to go outside, even though it’s mid-April. The only problem with this extremely slow season change is that somehow I have the sensation that time is standing still, waiting for the sun. It’s not.
marveling at the imaginations of my two boys that have suddenly come alive. All at once, in the last month or so, they are best buddies who will play for hours.
thankful for how joyful those two little boys are. They smile and dance and laugh and cheerfully anticipate almost every moment of the day. It’s pretty amazing, and I don’t want to take it for granted.
thinking about the basics: faith in God (and Him alone), digging into this moment and not missing the opportunity to find Jesus, serving my family with a smile, honoring my husband and being mindful of him every moment, praying continually.
anticipating several nights of presbytery at church, followed by a Good Friday celebration and then, of course, the Best Sunday Of All.