on this night

My three year old had a nap today.  Which made for a quiet afternoon.  And an eventful evening.

"MOM!

MOM! 

MOOOOM!!!"

(He hollered from his bed)

"MOM!  CAN YOU HEAR ME?!  I NEED YOU TO SCRATCH MY BACK!"

I crawled into his bed.  "Scratch my back mom?  Just this much," he said with his arms stretched as wide as he could reach.

"Now scratch my arm?"

"And my other arm?"

"Almost finished...now scratch my back a little more?"

"And my arm."

"And my other arm."

"And just a little bit more."



This kid. 



I gave him fair warning before I tucked his shirt in and patted his little back.

"See you in the unicorns," he told me.  (Because he is awesome like that.)

blink

Under the shade of the giant oak trees

we waited for his siblings to finish their last day of school for the year. 

My three year old watched the children playing outside the windows of our parked car. 

He wanted to join them in their game of flag football. 

I explained that this game was only for the kids attending school. 

He pinched his eyes closed and then opened them again.

"I blinked.  Now I'm in first grade," he explained.

He had overheard my idiom and misunderstood. 

It's a blink of my eye. 

Not his own. 

 I'm going to start propping them open with toothpicks. 

t e n

My sweet girl turns 10 today. 

Two digits. 

In honor of her birthday, a repost...

her big brown eyes

I went to a concert with my mom and my girl the other night. At one point, my girl looked at me. And her eyes....big and brown and round. She was at once both the 8 1/2 year old she is right now, and the baby that she will always be in my heart. Those eyes.

I remembered the night before her first birthday. One whole year had come and gone. She would never be my tiny girl again. I cried. Hard. I woke up my sleeping husband. "She's going to be one." He didn't feel it like I did.

I was two years into a four year interior design program when she was born. Before I met her, I was sure I could keep pushing towards the career of my dreams. And then we met. My baby. My girl. My mom watched her for me while I attended classes. It worked. I tucked the pain of leaving her in my back pocket and finished another year.

The summer between years 3 and 4 of the program -that I worked so hard to get into- required an internship. I applied to a few places and was so excited to be hired to one that paid money.

That night before her birthday, I felt the sting of all that would be required from me that summer. All the time away. From the child that was no longer a baby. My girl. Growing so fast I could almost see it happening. I thought about just calling this place to tell them I couldn't do it. Quitting. Before I began.

But I couldn't.

We had sacrificed so much to get to where we were, and this internship would only be for a summer. But that summer turned into more. The 4th year in that program (my 6th college year) was busy with school-work and work-work. And I saw my girl at the end of the day. I put her to bed each night. And dressed her each morning. But the in between wasn't hers and mine. It was hers. And mine. Separately.

Everyday I sat at my desk I thought about how I would rather be sitting with her. I pressed forward, though, with that pain tucked away deep. I could still feel it.

And then, in an unexpected turn of events, we were expecting.

It was then I knew. There was no way....

....no way for us.

No way for me to tuck those feelings away any longer. It was time to tuck "my career" away.

That was almost seven years ago. I can feel that career being tucked away, but it doesn't feel painful....it feels good.

::Micah::

To give you an idea of scale, I've hung these in my diningroom. 

Option 1:

one 24"w x 36"h plus one 24"w x 24"h (overall 2 ft wide by 5 ft high) $120

Option 2:

three 24" x 24" squares (total stacked 2 ft wide by 6 ft high) $135

happy easter!

then bursting forth in glorious day

up from the grave He rose again!

::sjbk::

For Sare~Lah.  

Good Busy

Painting in the kitchen. 

The sun is shining today.

Weatherman says 58 degrees by this afternoon.

I need all 58.

The last two months have been sick ones for me and mine.  Pink eye.  Influenza.  Bronchitis.  The common cold. The uncommon cold.  Good times. 

I'm tired.  But the sun is shining. 

itsystitch Waldorf inspired dolls

If you have a little girl, and your little girl likes to play with dolls...well, then you need to know about itsystitch.

Photo: Amie :: itsystitch

  Shop owner Amie is a super talented lady, and she recently started selling her wares online.  She is running a contest to win one of her Waldorf inspired dolls.  You have until 2:00 pm on February 2nd to enter.  If you win, come back and thank me....and if you don't, you're welcome anyhow...you will not find Waldorf inspired dolls anywhere else online of this quality at such a great price.  And, seriously, how cute is their hair?!

one, two, three, four

hootie owl for Steph

Lori and Donna

A few possibilities...

bleeding hearts :: 30" x 24" :: $55

wildflowers :: 36" x 24" :: $75

daisy field :: 36" x 24" :: $75

(Click on any photo to enlarge)

2012

Three days in.

We're back into the rhythm of our schedule. 

Daddy at work.  Big kids at school.  Little kids at home.  Mom/my...you know....still doing whatever it is I do. 

Trying to find some words to share in this space.

I'm going to make this year an authentic one.  Is that an Oprah thing to do?  I'm not intending to do it in an Oprah sort of way.  I want to be real and honest.  I want to be fully present in my life.  For whatever reason, I find myself floating through my days, hovering above the surface.  This will be the year that I stop floating.  And figure out whatever it is I'm supposed to be doing. 

South African Stripes

a must buy

wrestling fragile

I was in my car.  The radio pastor was not Joel Osteen, but his message was dangerously similar.  God doesn't just want to give me a roof over my head, clothes and food.  He wants to bless me with "things" - abundantly.  I know the verse.  I know the sentiment.  I can argue both sides and all around and back and forth and inside and out.  I can speak Christianese. 

Some Sundays as I'm sitting in church it is all I can do not to start shouting.  Our clothes are all beautiful.  Our parking lots filled with expensive vehicles.  Our homes...our stuff...our things.  We have been blessed abundantly. 

"And this same God who takes care of me will supply all your needs from his glorious riches, which have been given to us in Christ Jesus."

Sweet!  I hope Baby Jesus is going to bring me an iPad2 for His birthday. 

.

.

.

People.  PEOPLE!  How do we reconcile our wealth and the needs of the poor?  Do we only give once we have all the stuff we want?  Because God's hand of blessing is on us?  Do we sell everything we have?  Where is the middle ground between David Platt and Joel Osteen?  Why do we buy all these books?  Why do we pick one token "social issue"....

I have been wrestling.  With this and so many other things.  Church as a business.  Sinners.  All of us.  Sinning.  And loving.  And trying.  And failing. 

Wanting SO BADLY to wrestle this all out with someone.  Anyone.  Anyone that won't  pray a sermon over me.  As I know I have done to others.  (If I've done that to you, I'm so sorry.)  Why do we do that?  Why do I do that? 

I imagine myself in a conversation.  Puking this all out on someChristiansomeone.  And I already know the pat answers.  I can complete the entire dialogue (monologue) in my mind.  I already know.  The Christianese. We say the right things.  We gently rebuke.  We have the verse that supports our response.   

Can you have a conversation with someone and begin it with, "I already know I am judging others and that is wrong.  I already know that God is in control.  I already know that we are all sinners.  I already know that the poor will always be among us.  I already know...Grace!  Mercy!  Love!  Jesus! The Bible!  God!" 

Do I sound self righteous?  I am!  I am full of all kinds of sins.  I judge.  I have a log in my own eye.  I already know that!  I am on a slow burn to I'm not sure where....crazy?

...I sit here and simmer.  Afraid to say the words out loud.  I'm too fragile to face rebuke. 

I don't want a prayer sermon.  I just want God to be right here with me, so very close.  And maybe someone else who doesn't have the right answers.

For Eric (& Jen)

It took a while to figure out how to do this.
A long time (years?) ago, my brother-in-law gave me an idea for a painting. 
A birth. 
A death. 
And a resurrection.
A giant trio. 
This is how I would hang it. 
I told him he's going to need a big wall. 

for Martina and Laura...

Martina:

 

Laura:

you don't bring a mirror to the grand canyon

A John Piper quote that pricked my soul at momtime today.

Followed by:

(my paraphrasing)

((of this wise young lady))

When you're drowning in the river, you don't reach out and grab onto something that is also in the river.  You must reach out to someone on the river's edge. 

(P.S. His name is Jesus.)

for Cook