To you, whom we wait for

It was this long kind of weekend and each day I thought, maybe today is the day we will meet you? But the sun rose and set and you stayed safe tucked inside, wiggling and kicking and lodging that foot just inside my ribcage just the way your sister used to. I imagined you, your sweet face and maybe pudgy cheeks and wondered what color you'd have and how long those kicky legs are. Your sister rubs my belly and says she knows you're a sister even though we're not sure. Your brother gets long running starts and bashes into you and maybe already you're learning he's a little rougher and he's learning how to be gentle with you? Oh, how he'll love you.

I want you to know you're coming home to loving arms and legs and hugs and kisses and songs at bedtime. You're coming home to dance parties and family walks in the fall and spring and too many Christmas decorations (like there is such a thing) and so so much love. We're not perfect, this family of yours, and somedays we're confused and I can't find your brother's shoes and your sister doesn't want to do anything at all and I feel tired, but there is so so much love.

Daddy can't wait to meet you. He rubs my tummy and says your name in prayer and asks God what he asked for the two before you. He rubs my back when the weight of you pulls down and asks what else he can do to help me get ready for you.  He washes your clothes and sets up the bassinet, readies the car seat and reminds me to bring that pillow thing I really liked that last time. I smile at his excitement. Oh, how he loves you.

And I? Well, I feel like I've known you this whole time. Since the moment the ultrasound said, yes, you were there and when I felt you and now always feel you. And I love you more than I will ever be able to show you. I can't wait to see you and hold you and I'm sorry for the times I don't want to let you go.

But the truth is, we belong together. All of us.

And there is something else you should know. You are one of ours. That means we will fight for you and we will bat for you and we will lay our lives down for you. You never need ask. We will be here always, whether physically or just inside your heart and head. Your mommy and daddy guiding the way. Your brother and sister protecting and watching over you. We will share secrets and inside jokes, dreams and disappointments. We will hold your hand and protect your heart. We will pray for you and with you and ask God for wild things for you. We will laugh with you and build you up. We will forgive you and ask your forgiveness. We will always give you another chance.

You are one of ours and you belong right here. 

We are waiting for you. Our arms and eyes and hearts and lives are waiting for you. One of ours, precious one. We'll be right here.

See you soon.

Love, Mom

Easy Memory Preservation

I've never been much of a scrap-booker. Still, when Peanut was born I was determined to document her life in pictures with scrap books that could rival Martha's any day. I printed photos, bought books and decals, ribbons and other embellishments. And these precious items sit in the closet of our school room collecting dust.

I'm not super creative. Can't create impressive layouts and imaginary designs. Don't really have the time (or the money) to spend on scrap-booking classes and the latest trends. However, I desperately want to capture our life in photos that are on display for us to see frequently, not tucked away in my digital camera or in neat little inaccessible albums in our iphoto app. I recently saw an idea on Pinterest that I knew I could do and with a little tweaking, it has become a way to document our lives in photos on display presently, and can then transfer quickly to albums as well!

It's a picture timeline one middle school teacher began with her students to document their school year by month in photos! I LOVED the idea and knew I wanted to try it. I began our display on our school room wall. Here's how it turned out so far!

(June is missing because I apparently didn't order those pictures, so I need to order those. See? I left a space!)

Each page is a 12 by 12 page of colored card stock. I went through our gobs of pictures on iphoto and printed the ones that captured super special memories we'd love to be reminded of throughout the year. I added simple captions in sharpie to give a little information about what was going on in each photo.

I also purchased a simple scrapbook that will hold pages this size, so, at the end of the year, we will take these pages down and slip the pages into the scrapbook (which has 12 pages) and our timeline will be preserved in an album for us to revisit later! Then we will begin the new year!

I am thrilled about this project and how simple it is. The Littles loved looking at all the memories we made this year so far and it will be fun to watch them grow in timeline form along the walls of our school room! 

Thanks Pinterest for an easy, do-able project!

Sometimes what family is...

It's this slow moving kind of day. So much work to be done and how can everywhere I look display a mess that will require more attention than I can give? And the youngest of "The Littles" keeps tugging his hair with his little thumb in his mouth and collapsing on my lap. I need to move. There is so much to do. And the oldest doesn't want her animal crackers but wants to dump every tiny toy onto the floor I just managed to clear and her eyes flare with an ornery disobedience I sometimes love. She's so wild and free and most days I just want to dance with her. But there is another "Little" coming soon and wouldn't it be great if she had clean clothes and a little space of her own when she arrives?

Just one day, I want to be that "has it all together woman". Why don't I? Why is that feeling so far and in between all the dumped out toys and little thumb sucking clingy boys and detangling spray for that girl's curls just as wild as she is?

I offer TV and slip away to do more laundry, but they find me again and want... just me. I throw my hands up and give in to the "to-do list" that I won't beat today. The unkept piles of mail and the towers of toys and dishes from dinner that still linger on the table linger still. And at 12:00 when I should be making lunch we eat Chex Mix in my bedroom, everyone all smiles and crunching.  The youngest works well with me because I prefer the chex and he only the pretzels. The oldest holds hers in a bowl like a treasure to be cherished. And I wonder- what will matter to them when they are old enough to say? Chex Mix in Mommy's room or always clean sheets and never dishes piled? Their faces tell. And is any woman really the "has it all together woman"? Those ones who seem to have it all together maybe have learned that the only way to have it together is to sometimes let things fall apart. This new little one may not be carried into a perfectly cleaned and organized home. But she will find two siblings who love her and a mother and father who can't wait to add her to this thing we call family. And as we eat Chex Mix and crunch and laugh and slow, I realize that's really what matters.

When you pray...

She was so adorable there, in her chair scooted up so close to the table. Plate of food before her, smile wide.  And she closed her hands and opened her words to pray:

"Thank you, Loyd, for the pizza...umm, and pizza...and..." Pauses to look at me. Holding up a breadstick she asks, "Mommy, what's this?"

"A breadstick," I smile.

"Umm, okay..." Closes her eyes once more. "And thank You, Loyd, for breadstick. Amen."

And my mommy heart swelled. Not with pride but joy that she's learning, too. Learning to name them- each and all- all the things she is thankful for. Because if we can name them, instead of blanket-like pray thanks for everything, we can learn to name the ways God is faithful, trustworthy, gracious, generous, sovereign, good. If she can hear me spill thanks instead of complaints, gratitude instead of selfish attitude, maybe then she'll believe me when I say I love the Lord I spill thanks to.

Because doesn't our attitude toward someone show how we truly feel about them?

How will she believe I feel towards God if all she hears is me complaining about what He's provided?

But how will she believe I feel towards God is she catches me spilling over thanks.

Thanks.

And if my words spill thanks perhaps my heart does to?

Thank You...

For a 2 year-old who names thanks
for pizza
and breadsticks
and the husband who brought them
and a night the oven (and momma) got to rest
for Christmas lights
and the true meaning of Christmas
for hard situations that bring light to your soft heart for me
for a  friend who loves me who I can call for opinions and advice
for date night
and Nana
and Your love for me that stretches farther than I ever will know

You have no idea

how much I love you.

Last night, we curled tight together on the tiny love seat and locked legs and squeezed middles tight. We had just finished a spontaneous spa time- soaked our feet in feet baths and clipped nails. You thought it'd be a good idea to sit in your bath and you were a smiling soaking mess by the time we were done.  I just kept thinking, "God has given me a daughter to share my world with. I am so blessed. I am so smitten with love."

And so, after our feet were dry and our clothes were dry, we cuddled close together on that tiny couch and held each other close and even sang that song you love: "This Little Light of Mine". And when I sing it with you, your smallish voice raising octaves in laughter and smiles, I can't help but think you are my little light, shining, beaming. You have no idea...

And we sat for a long time, long after your bed time, and we just held each other and talked about all the things important to you. And I gazed at this beautiful brown-eyed girl and wondered how so fast you became who you are now? I remember this little bundle, all 5 lbs. 8 ounces, wrapped in way more blankets than are needed in late April, bundled tight in a car seat, coming home. And I sat in the back with you staring at your every move, observing every breath, and wondered how I would ever again care about anything else in all the world. And your every move delighted and terrified me. You filled me with wonder.

And finally, last night, your little eyes started to droop and your voice grew quieter. "Mommy's tired." I whispered into your tiny ear. "Yeah, we're tired." You agreed. "Let's go to your room." You bargained. But I swept you up and took you to your room. Tucked my princess into bed after 4 books and prayers and more and more hugs. And my heart was so full I thought there'd never be a feeling in all the world that could replace this one. Never.

You have no idea how much. And that's okay. But baby girl, I love you. Always.

Love Mom.

Priceless Moments

It started as something on a whim. I helped the ten year-old clean his room and found a small dry erase board and a marker. When we'd finished and he ran downstairs I wrote on the board:

"You are wonderful. You are amazing. You are loved. I love you so much. Auntie Tricey (which is what he calls me)." And left it next to his bed.

He never said a thing about it. I didn't expect him to. Just hoped the message was received deep down into his being. Prayed and prayed he would hear it.

Then...today... A great day with some very not so great moments. I was on the receiving end of harsh, harsh words from someone whose feelings were hurt because of something I had decided. I stood by my decision, but those words. Those words racked me to the core. I was sad when the ten year-old came home from school so I explained to him, "Someone said very mean things to me today. It really hurt my feelings. There may be times in your life when someone does something like that to you. Remember to not say harsh things back at them, even if you really want to. Remember that you don't need to defend yourself. Remember to still honor God."

He looked thoughtful. Said he was sorry that happened. (He can be so mature at times.) Then we moved on with our busy afternoon...

At bedtime finally, I slip out of the infant's room and gather enough energy to change into my pajamas and get ready to plop onto the bed. But then I see it, on my pillow. The small dry erase board. A message written in ten-year-old pen:

"I love you auntie that you bless me. Roses are red, ice cream is cool and so are you! From Kameron to Auntie Tricey. Look on back"  So naturally, I looked on the back.

"Jesus loves you yes I know, for the Bible tells me so Auntie-O. Little ones come to Him, they are weak but He is strong- and so are you Auntie. Smiley Face."

Smiley face indeed.  What a way to end this day.

Great day, not so great moments, but other priceless ones.

Memory Monday: How I've Learned a Little What Love Is (Happy anniversary a few weeks late)

We were young. Oh my gosh we were young. You handsome and cool in that sweater vest I hated. Me all 20 and wild and carefree and a little wiser than I'd been a few years before.  You came, that night while I sat at the "Welcome" desk for Navigators. You came and you said you were looking for ways to get involved. And we smiled and talked casually. And yes, yes you tease me even now, I gave you my number. Best decision I'd made all year.

You called 8 days later, (maybe I counted) and we talked for two hours and it seemed we had more in common than not. I laughed, I remember, so so much. You were funny! You're still so funny.

That was August. August 2003. Babe, we've come a long way.

And we started "hanging" out. Coffee shops, movies, just getting together. We poured over each other's writing. We listened to Sade and Miles Davis and you enlightened me in music and I enlightened you in the art of cookie baking and my mad basketball skills. 

And in January you asked me, officially, you asked me "to go steady", because you're silly that way. And I said yes and by February knew I was in love. It was the best secret I'd ever kept because we promised we wouldn't say it till you put a shiny ring on my finger and promised to say it forever. 

And oh there were some bumps in the road- like former relationships and worries and what ifs. But we made it babe. Made it all the way to May of the next year when you, in front of our friends and our youth group and my mom, you got down on one knee and asked me that question. And you were so nervous you forgot to say I love you but I forgave you because you showed it, with that ring and with that knee bent, you showed it.

3 1/2 months later you proved it when you said "I do" on that day in August with the perfect weather and the handsome tuxedo and your hair cut just the way I like it. And I remember thinking, is this real? Is it really real? And you were. And you still are.

Man I love you. I can't believe the years that have gone by. Can't believe the way we've grown and melded and figured out just what love is (think we'll be figuring that out forever). Can't believe the things we used to fight about. Can't believe the things we've learned along the way.

You've given me happiness, hope, a safe haven, strong arms, wisdom beyond my years, 2 beautiful children, laughter, peace and more love than I know what to do with at times. You lead me, you love me. You are patient and collected when I am worried and fearing. You are calm when I am a tempest. 

I'm still right more than you are. :) 

Thanks for 6 years of marriage and 8 of knowing you. I would never dream of getting off this ride. 

Love you.