Seriously?

 What on earth were we doing in the pictures our parents took of us at this age?  Playing outside? Pretending to be cowboys or Indians?  Wren , a true child of modern times, enjoys playing stock-trader.  There is usually a lot of yelling involved. Surprise.

A Weekend Away

 We spent a weekend away.

 We laughed,

we discovered bark,

 we rode piggy-back,

and enjoyed the company of a few lovely horses.

 We looked for fish,

 pretended to 'yiv in the fohwest',

 and tried our first smore.

 It was sticky.

 We've never been a fan of sticky.

But we found the sticky was a bearable trial,

considering there was chocolate involved.

All in all, we had a really great time.

In a Season

     It seems all too easy for a mom to lose herself in the day to day of laundry piles, menus and grocery lists and the continual wiping of noses.  There are days where I feel that my place in life is to make sure the carpet is at least visible, if not fastidiously clean, which it rarely is...ok, it never is.  This has been the season of late in our home.  The one word I could possibly use to describe it is 'crazy' and crazy it has been.  Between colic, sleeplessness, illness, discipline, physical training, and my daily battle with the selfish will of my own heart, it has been easier to collapse into bed at the end of each day than take any time at all to reflect on all we have come through in recent months.  While I admit that our circumstances have been nothing tragic or breaking, they have been hard, challenging, frustrating, and I often hope, rather than know, that I have become better for it all.  Where to begin?
     Both my girls were taken to Urgent Care in the last few months; Wren for RSV and Lillian for some bizarre stomach bug that was evidently VERY painful.  Nothing quite shakes the vapid self-assurance of a mom like watching their child pass out in their arms or having another cry and scream for help because they are hurting so much.  My heart pleads for them just thinking of what they had to feel.  How does a person address her faith in site of her children's mortality?  I recognize now that neither one was in a place where death was a pressing concern, but for anyone with an overzealous imagination, it's not hard to imagine what 'could' happen, when you don't have a clue what is happening. I found myself fighting physical panic by reminding myself that my God is good, despite anything.  He is good whether my children survive me or not. He is Good. He is Good. He is Good. This was my mantra, and my heart and soul clung to it.  Needless to say these two specific experiences broke my perception of how much I actually trusted God, and how high I placed my children on the priority list.  Both my trust and my list were off.
     It's a shame these humbling truths can never be revealed of our hearts during times of plenty or harvest. Being broken is not something I would lovingly espouse, or invite.  It's a state of being that leaves us bare, if only to ourselves, and reminds us that we truly can do no good, nothing of consequence, on our own.  It is only by His great mercy that we are invited to be something; but not just something, but one of substance.  To know your efforts are wholly wanting and your heart is a slum and to see what it could be, what God has made it, is a visionary blessing. One that only comes through completely severing all ties to any former perception of quality or import, and seeing the greatness of Who God is.  In all His Glory, In all His ability, In all His Goodness;  Seeing Him as I am. Breaking the barrier of brokenness brings about greater blessing than we can imagine.  It's not fun.  It's not easy.  It is humbling. It's the best place to allow Him to rebuild who you are, based on Who He Is.
     And this is where I am.  Months later, we are still crazy, but hoping for some stillness soon. It has been challenging for me to write what happened to me, when so much has happened to us.  It is admittedly easier to address the needs of husband and children, even extended family, than face the truth in my own heart, much less, write about it for others to know how tumultuously human I am below the surface. I find my self-serving pride is hesitant to share that I have struggled so much, that I am evidently so lacking.  And I don't think I would have if it weren't for the absolute freedom I have felt in coming before the Lord and admitting to Him (and myself) that I can't do this.  I have ugly singed into my core and I need Him to make me the Christian Woman, Wife and Mother He would have me be, not the one I want to be.  And I am looking forward to what He has planned for the reconstruction.

And She's Off!

Every crawler needs a great start.

 Eyes on the prize.

 Almost there Sugar, keep the faith.

Who ya' gonna' call?

Wren has made some serious developmental leaps in the last week.  A week ago she decided she could army crawl.  The next day she sat up all by herself, and then started pulling up on anything and everything that stayed still long enough to be used as a prop.  All week she has been perfecting her crawl and I'm happy, and a little nervous to say, she is officially a crawler.  And little else brings her this much joy.  She spotted me in the kitchen from the living room, laughed, and crawled over...it took a while but she gave herself due applause when she finally arrived.

Silliness Strongly Encouraged

I don't think I'm naturally very silly, but with kids around, I have good teachers.  These are great times.

What is Best...

Wren is loud.  Maybe I've mentioned this?  We have all had to learn coping strategies, but Lillian still struggles with it.  She will occasional lose her patience and enforce the 'I communicate by shoving' sort of sisterliness that many of us with siblings may be familiar with.  Today, after such an episode, I had Lillian on the couch and we were discussing different ways she could have responded that would have been more appropriate.  We went over the basics: love others, be gentle, etc. and we talked about alternative actions when someone is just flat out bothering you.  Lillian came up with this one, 'Wren that bothers me,  I'm going to the moon!'

Around the House

A Glimpse...

 Off to her first ballet class.

 They're related.

 Pet bonding.  She put herself in there, I promise.

Just so sweet. 

 And yes, our home is regularly cluttered with all of those toys. Phooey.