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?

mondays are home days

We usually try to stay home on Mondays.  Sundays are crazy and poor Lucy gets cheated on her naps, so I like to give her a chance to regroup and sleep when she needs to.  Elijah appreciates the chance to take the car at the beginning of the week so he can take all of the stuff he needs for the next 4 days of riding his bike.  (I love my husband and his willingness to let us have the car most days.  Even on icy days.  He is awesome.  Or awe-sim, as Aida likes to say.)

Anyways, all that to say that the big girls know that Mondays are Home Days.  They also know that Home Days mean they get to pick out their own clothes.  These have been their outfits of choice for the past few weeks.

Aida claims she is a raspberry; Sophie is a purple grape.

(To reconcile the fact that her shirt is a different shade than her pants, Sophie claims that she is a purple grape whose top is rotten.  "Of course," I told her.)

 By the time we finished this painting project, though, Aida was more of a blueberry.

my Thanksgiving post. or, sometimes I hide under my children's beds

Last week I hid under Sophie's bed.  Just curled up, cheek pressed against the dusty-smelling carpet, eyes screwed tight.  Lucy was in her crib, screaming.  I was attempting, for the kajillionth millionth time, to locate some precious toy that had been misplaced.  My 4-year-olds were whining at me, and then at each other, and then yelling.  It had been a long day, full of screaming and whining and yelling.  Under the bed seemed like a good place to stay for a while.

Those kinds of days are why motherhood is so good for my soul.  Regardless of whether or not I'm fooling anyone else, there is no fooling myself when I'm stuffed under a bed - I'm no good on my own.  I'm not wise enough, patient enough, creative enough, fill-in-the-blank enough.  On days like this, when I reach the end of myself before the demands have even begun to be met, I am right where I'm supposed to be - humble.  Humbled.  Reliant on Him who made me, who knows me, who loves me.  And, if I can get there, grateful.  For mercy and second chances, apologies and snuggles and those little hands that tug, tug, tug at me.

Because when I get past the screaming and the whining and the yelling, I am reminded something about each of these precious days.

They are my dreams coming true.

A man that I am crazy about, a home teeming with children and noise and mess and living.  God's perfect love, manifest in my imperfect, exceedingly blessed life.

little Lu turns 1/2

Sweet Lucy Rose, today you are 6 months old - you have blessed our family with your joy for half of a year.

You are the kissing-est baby I have ever known.  You love to grab a face with both your little hands and lay a nice slobbery smooch all over it.

Getting you up in the morning is one of my favorite things.  When I walk into your room your eyes light up and you kick your legs, wave your arms, and give a little chuckle.  You know how to make a Mama feel loved and important.

You are TERRIBLE about waking up at night these days.  Oooh, it is rough right now.  But even that is bittersweet, because I know our nights of snuggling up together in the dark are numbered.  I love it when your chubby little hand reaches sleepily up to play with the collar of my shirt while you nurse.

Your sisters love you, your daddy loves you, I love you.  Happy 6 months, Lu!