if you ever need to cross a hot lava lake...

...be sure you are wearing the proper attire.  Disregard the amount of sunlight and heat in the environment.  Cover yourselves from head to toe.  (Footie pjs, mittens, and hats are perfect for this.)  Make a mighty run for it across said hot lava lake and jump onto the counter next to a bowl of waffle batter.

Brave the fierce Hot Lava Tickle Monster.

After you've shown him who's boss, ask him to make you some waffles.  Slather them in Nutella.  Forget all about hot lava.  Onto the next adventure...

oh Lord, it's hard to be humble

Little Lu has had an ear infection.  Her first.  Sweet thing was clearly in pain and was not afraid to let us know.  Communication seems to be one of her strong points.

I've noticed something about myself over the past few days as I've devoted most of my time to holding her and/or keeping her from exercising her all-out banshee scream.  A strange mixture of discontent and inadequacy seeps into my bloodstream when an entire day's moments are not particularly enjoyable.  All of a sudden it drives me absolutely CRAZY that I'm unable to pull weeds in front of the house.  Funny, I didn't feel compelled to pull any weeds in the previous 2 weeks when I had 3 relatively happy girls on my hands.  I glance around my home and only see mess.  I decide I should be more serious about finding time to exercise/bake healthy snacks/blog/organize the master bathroom closet.

It happens every time.  I wish it wouldn't.  But here's what I'm thinking - the more I am compelled to put the needs of someone else (or multiple someone elses) before my own, the more my will tries to assert itself in any way it can, to the point that it tries to convince me that if only I was baking multigrain banana muffins instead of caring for my precious (albeit screaming) child I would feel fulfilled.

I was home in Santa Barbara for a whirlwind trip a few weeks ago and got to enjoy a rollicking meal with most of my family.  I can't remember what led up to it, but in the middle of dinner several of them broke out into a song I've heard sung many times before: "Oh Lord, it's hard to be humble, when you're perfect in ev-er-y way..."

It made us all laugh, just like it always does.  And we sing that song tongue-in-cheek.  But the truth is, it IS hard to be humble, not because I'm perfect in ev-er-y way but because it is hard work to try to quiet my pride and my need to please myself.  It's not something my heart always wants to do.  Motherhood, however, requires it of me, whether I'm ready for humility or not.  It can be a hard way to continually learn this lesson.  But it is such a sweet way.

snaggletooth

I had to post these pictures of my Lu for posterity.  Her teeth have just been cracking us up for the past 2 months.  The funniest thing was the way she would use those 3 (off-center) teeth to take bites out of her Cheerios.  Bites.  Out of Cheerios.  With 3 off-center teeth.  I love how everything about this little Lucy is so Lucy.  

 Now all of a sudden she is in the throes of major teething and 3 more top teeth are erupting through her gums.  Her look is changing quickly.  But she's still Lucy.  Thank God.

Daddy's Sping Bake

*or "Spring Break" for those of you who like to articulate your r-blends*

Last week was Elijah's Spring Break.  Ooh, it was glorious.  No trips to the beach or fancy plans here - just playing in the backyard and riding bikes in circles on the deck and learning about Tetrus on Daddy's phone.

The girls learning about Tetrus.

Apparently, Lu would rather flash her cheesy smile than play video games.

And walking.  Lots and lots of walking.

The weather couldn't have been better.  We took full advantage and walked through the neighborhood, at the greenway, through Cheekwood and Percy Warner Park.  We walked in the rain.  We walked in the gorgeous sunshine.  Lu got a free ride strapped to me or nestled in her stroller.  Sometimes the big girls took their own babies in their strollers and mothered them about.  It was sweet, and blessed, and we are Definite-yee (as my girls say- what, you articulate your l-sounds, too?) missing Daddy as he is back at work this week.  Can anyone say, "Summer Vacation"?  I know my girls can.

the dreams that you wish

We love going to Storytime at the downtown library.  It is fabulous - puppets and songs, juggling and rainbows and books.  The girls and I have developed a little post-Storytime tradition of visiting the fountain in the library courtyard.  If they're lucky, I have 2 pennies for wishes.  And my sweet girls don't know yet that you're not supposed to tell what you wished for.

So last week, after Aida and Sophie took turns looking hard at their pennies and tossing them in (with feeling!), I asked them: "What did you wish for?"

Aida replied, "I wished that Lucy (Yucy) will be a teacher."
Sophie, looking thoughful, answered, "I wished that Lucy (Yucy)...could eat potatoes."

Somewhere along the line, while I was pregnant with Lu, my big girls got "wish" and "prayer" a bit muddled.  The line can be fuzzy, anyway.  And while Lucy was quietly gestating, her sweet big sisters were offering up prayers on her behalf - that she would be healthy and strong and safe.  Once she was born, they continued to pray for her - that she would get better from a cold, or have long hair.  (One day, my darlings.)  Any time they "make a wish", it is about and for Lucy - more prayers offered up from innocent lips for their beloved baby.

Oh, my girls, I wish that I was better at hanging onto these sweet moments, at remembering every detail - the way hair wisps and curls at temples, the freckles on a nose, the crooked teeth and rosy cheeks and hilarious smiles.  I wish - I pray - that I will not take these days with you for granted, even when it's not fun and fountains and wishes.  I wish that you will know just how much this Mama treasures you.

A lot.  A whole, whole lot.

remembering

2 years ago today I went to the hospital, very newly pregnant, writhing in pain and scared out of my mind that what I knew was happening was actually happening.  The next day I came home, missing a fallopian tube and missing the child we never had a chance to meet.

In the time since, God has brought healing, peace, and a beautiful, healthy, precious daughter - the best gift.  I don't wish that things were different.  But today I have still been hit with, and surprised by, the grief.  I am trying to live in it, to let myself feel it and know that it will fade, to kiss my babies and thank God for the beautiful souls He has placed in my life and to miss the one I have yet to meet.

lucy's new 'do

Oh, how I love baby hair in the winter.

Dry,

full of static,

oh-so-cute.

Lucy fills this house with laughter - how could she not with her two little hair-horns?