This past June, I took my kiddos home for my dad’s 60th birthday. It was just me and the two littles- aged 5 and 1 1/2 at the time- and we had the absolute best trip ever. We’ve taken a lot of trips back to Kansas. For various reasons- funerals, holidays, to show off the new baby. I don’t know what it was about this trip, but it was by far the best yet. Everything was smooth and fun and wonderful. Continue reading
It’s written on a blue and white magnetic wipe-off board that is stuck to our refrigerator.
I wrote it out- a simple, familiar verse- mostly because the Pickle has spent the last three months being terrified of everything from storms, to sleeping with her door shut, to me spending more than two minutes in the next room. She’s been engulfed by fear.
So we comfort and we speak truth and we convince her that lightning is not going to strike the house and I write a Bible verse on the refrigerator.
Not that she can read it. But so that I can remember the battle she is facing. And so I can pray for her.
When I’m thawing chicken and filling up juice cups and stuff. Continue reading
I guess now that six months have rolled by. Now that we have made this little man a part of our forever. Now that we’re beyond the days of infant reflux, begging for smiles, and long daytime naps.
I might as well share his nursery.
Keep in mind that themed baby nurseries with matching bedding, curtains, changing table, wall decals, bumpers, rug, artwork, lamps, etc… give me hives. It looks awesome in your baby’s nursery! But I don’t want it in mine. So if you’re hunting ideas to anti-theme your baby’s room, you’ve come to the right place. I want a room my boy can grow into. Continue reading
It was one of those glorious late summer mornings.
The sun had risen late and bursting with color. The air was cool… cool enough, in fact, to usher in a mid-morning fog that drowned out even the brightest of the suns rays.
And I thought, we need to be outside.
So the pickle and I, still in our PJ’s, threw on shoes and tiptoed out the door over dew-heavy grass and across the road to our neighbor’s long driveway.
Where she took off in a sprint.
I drank deep the damp morning air, remembering the first days of school and fog on the schoolbus windows.
As we walked, or ran or skipped or danced, up the long driveway, sandwiched on either side by fields of tall grass and rows of evergreen trees, we stopped. To stand both in awe and delight.
There, patchworked within the squares of the fence, were tiny spiderwebs woven in perfect spirals. Sparkling with a thousand miniature drops of dew. Some hung heavy in the fog. Others stood strong still, blowing in the gentle breeze and shining like a thousand little diamonds.
The Pickle was amazed! Although not enough to touch one.
And we walked on with her constantly running along the fence pointing them out.
“There’s one, Mommy! And look, another one! Oh, Mommy, that’s a BIG one!”
And it wasn’t so much the spiderwebs or our conversation about how beautiful God made the world or the lesson on dew and fog.
It was the fact that we hadn’t done this in a very long time. Just walked.
It was the fact that I left my phone at home- to remember the pictures etched in my memory instead of on my memory card.
It was the quiet morning and the restless chatter of the three-year-old next to me who told me about her fear of spiders and called out for the cows and pointed out how tall the trees were and played I-spy and said, “watch me run, Mommy!”
And I remembered just how much I loved this. And needed this. And how much she needed this.
We walked and talked about life and nature and God. And all around us the spiderwebs sparkled like her eyes in the early morning fog. And for a moment I didn’t want my phone or the dishes or a soft place on the couch or a red shopping cart.
I didn’t want to be anywhere but right there.
How quickly I forget just how much life is lost when I am so distracted by busyness.
How quickly I forget to throw off everything that hinders and holds back and brings worry… and instead to breathe deep and take time to listen. Both to the beauty around me, and to the little voice beside me.
I forget that side by side is often so much more meaningful and memorable than anything I could conjure up in a classroom or from Pinterest.
I forget that my childhood was the most beautiful when it had nothing to do with a phone or a video game or a TV or a vehicle. But just my own two feet, a place to run, and a pair of open eyes.
Why would I want any different for her? Why would I deny her these moments of savoring and falling in love with the world God gave us? How could I, when she was so clearly made for this.
For long morning walks.
And organic, bubbling conversation.
And fog. And dew. And Mommy. And trees.
Now, where were we? Planned, prepped, primed… and now painted!
I don’t know about you, but about 75% of my project planning happens in my head.
The other 25% is spent getting ideas or deciding on final touches… either at Lowe’s, on Pinterest, or who knows where.
So it makes sense that my husband (and others) might think I’m procrastinating… when in fact, I’ve been stewing over things in my head for days, or weeks, or even months. Getting things placed just right. Making decisions. Eliminating options.
It’s true that most of my preparation for a project goes unseen.
Which I guess is why it’s SO exciting when the rubber hits the road and I get to start putting things down on paper, if you will. Continue reading
Change is inevitable.
Sometimes it comes in slow, gentle waves. And other times it hits suddenly with the weight of a hurricane that blows through your life and leaves it forever transformed.
I’m not sure what I would call our move. Unexpected. Exciting. Exhausting. Expensive.
Whatever it was, I recall spending hours deep in thought. Carefully mapping out my vision for our new home. And yes… it was a home. A four-bedroom, 1940’s-built house with one bathroom, no closets, and a kitchen that desperately needed some TLC if I was going to spend the next few years washing dishes in it…
So, as with any renovation it began with a little inspiration. Continue reading