Nothing sparks a little boy’s imagination like a Renaissance Festival.

Magicians.  A spark is lit.

Kings.  Queens.  Knights.  Another spark is lit.

Performers of all kinds.  Fire-eating.  Belly dancing.  Jousting.  Twirling.  Juggling.  Singing.  Dancing.  Another spark is lit.

Unbelievable costumes designed with attention to the smallest details.  Another spark is lit.

Artisans selling their wares.  Blacksmiths.  Weavers.  Sword makers.  Authors.  Face painters.  Another spark is lit.

A few treasured finds.  The sparks collide, the imagination is set afire.

The little princess sleeps, peaceful and well protected.

Today is a big day…Mom is finally going home.  She has been in the hospital for quite some time.  Six long weeks to be exact.  Six weeks wasn’t part of the plan so each day brought all of us anxiety laced with hope as we waited for God to heal what needed to be healed.  And He did heal her.  He has shown great mercy and rewarded all of our hope.

While she was busy healing, I missed her.  I missed our daily chats.  I missed her gentle encouragement.  I missed her cheery voice.  I just missed my dear sweet friend.  Despite the fact that life seemed on hold for her, for us life kept moving forward.  Mostly because it just doesn’t stop when there are four thriving children propelling life forward.  Our six weeks were filled with ordinary moments and milestones mixed in.

Mom, this post is for you…here are the highlights of the last six weeks for us.  These are all the things that happened…while you were healing.

We went trick or treating.  At 4:00 Halloween afternoon, there was a major panic.  William discovered that his boots had a little mold growing on them and, “Mommy, Superman’s boots DO NOT have black on the toes.”  A can of red spray paint saved the day!  Joseph was the Great Pumpkin; William was Superman; Andrew was a dog; Katie was happy just to go along for the ride.  We took the wagon, four happy little children, and three pumpkin buckets and set off through the neighborhood…we came back with the wagon, three tired but excited children, one sleeping baby and three pumpkin buckets filled to the brim with an insane amount of candy.

I read.  Then I read some more.  I saved all of them for you to read.

I celebrated my 33rd birthday.  We had devil’s food cupcakes with The Pioneer Woman’s delicious mocha frosting.  (I promise I’ll make you a fresh batch whenever you want!)

Joseph and William had their first camping experience (although as I may have already mentioned, it came to an end when, at 9:30 at night, William was convinced that a bear might attack in the middle of the night…in our backyard.)  The first camping experience was complete with a fire, s’mores, and a tent.

We visited the pumpkin patch.  The kids romped joyfully amongst the bright orange pumpkins, each choosing a small pumpkin of his own.  William tested his pumpkin to see if it could possibly be used as a ball.  He found out that wasn’t such a great idea…we ate pumpkin for dinner that night.

Katie gained a little over a pound.  She’s a whopping 16 1/2 lbs.

We went through at least one box of band-aids.  Apparently, little boys get lots of owies and the only way to make it feel better is with a band-aid.

We prayed.  A lot.

I finally opened the Baptism gift you sent for Katie and added it to our prayer table.  It’s beautiful.  Thank you.

Andrew discovered the word “hate.”  Now he hates everything.  “I hate lentils.”  “I hate that blanket.”  “I hate ice cream.”  Really?

I sorted and organized and sorted and organized and somehow managed to get out all the cold weather clothes.

We accidentally released a butterfly from the butterfly house at the Botanical Gardens.  And felt incredibly guilty all day long.

We watched a colony of ants dig a complex series of tunnels.  Then we released them into the backyard (and ran away from them as fast as possible, assuming they were probably a bit angry with us for having them locked up for so long).

I did some Christmas shopping.

We played.  A lot.

We finally finished studying Ancient Egypt in Joseph’s history lessons.  We know a whole lot about how to make a mummy and build a pyramid, just in case you’re in the market for either service.

Katie learned to roll…and roll…and roll.  Not really sure where she’s going, but she’s rolling to get there.

We prayed the miracle rosary for you.  Joseph refused to fall asleep each time we prayed it.  He wanted to be sure that the entire rosary was said for the sake of Grandma Cindy’s healing.

I got a haircut.

I did some canning.  And then I did some blogging about canning.

Dax started golfing again.   A little more balance has returned to our lives since baby girl joined us.

I watched The Pioneer Woman for the first time and desperately wished I could call you to tell you what I thought (I loved her!).

I talked to Dad every day.  I thirsted for any bit of information I could get out of him and I thrived on his hope and faith.

We took many nature walks.

I went for a pedicure.

I got out the sewing machine and made a wall hanging.  I used pink thread on an orange pumpkin wall hanging.  I didn’t dare try to change the bobbin so I used it just as you left it this summer.  Thank you for leaving that bobbin in there!

We went clothes shopping for longer pants for Joseph.  Again.  That boy just grows overnight, it seems.

We thanked God for our blessings…we especially thanked Him for you.

I downloaded this really cool app on my phone called 2nd Vote.  The only problem is that now I don’t want to shop anywhere except a few select stores.  I didn’t realize how liberal most of the stores are.

Katie wore tights for the first time.

I baked a really bizarre loaf of bread and imagined myself as the Duchess from A Duchess Bakes a Cake.  Then I remembered how you used to read that book to me when I was little and I missed you.

Dax had to report for jury duty.  Twice.

I deleted the onslaught of junk email in my box and laughed when I imagined how full your box must be getting.

We slept.  And prayed for you to have peaceful dreams.

I did pile after pile of laundry.  Bet you didn’t miss that task.

Katie had her shots.

Andrew learned to correctly pronounce William.  It’s no longer Wimmy.  We’re still working on Joseph…it’s still Ro Ro.

Joseph, inspired by watching me voraciously read for my book club, decided to start his own book club.  He had a meeting in October for the book Library Mouse and the kids made their own books.  Then he had a November meeting for Molly’s Pilgrim and they made clothespin dolls.  His is still a work in progress, but you would be very impressed with his creativity.

I finally sat down to try to figure out all the inner workings of my camera and photoshop.  I think I made it to page 10 and nodded off.  I’ll keep trying.

I talked to Les every day.  And I was so grateful to have a sister.

The Halloween books were packed away.  Thanksgiving books were pulled out.

I did the usual picking up at the end of each day.

Dad made the Thanksgiving menu.  I drooled over it.

We visited the water plant and were amazed to learn how water is processed.

We watched our meal worms change into beetles.

I tried not to cry.

I remembered that you always tell me, “this too shall pass” and I believed it with my whole heart.

I missed you, Mom.

I thanked God for his mercy and compassion…for filling my heart with hope…for filling yours with inspiration, perseverance, and purpose.  I thanked God, often, for Dad and for Les…for their strength, their faith, their hope.  It was all so palpable it was living and it sustained me.

Today I thank God for healing you and for bringing you home.  I thank Him for giving me another day to share with you and I thank Him for blessing me with you…my mom, my friend.  I love you!

Throughout the bible there is a recurring theme that we should rely on God for help.  “Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.  For everyone who asks, receives; and the one who seeks, finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened.”  (Matthew 7:7)  And again Jesus promises to help us with our burdens if we but ask, “Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest.  Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart; and you will find rest for yourselves.  For my yoke is easy, and my burden light.”  (Matthew 12:28-30).

That’s all well and good, but we are human.  We tend to lack faith.  We tend to lay down our crosses and just give up.  God realized that.  He realized how quickly we, as humans, tend to feel beaten down, deserted, alone in the face of trial.  Even Jesus felt it.  “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”  (Matthew 27:46).

We know there is a Heavenly God, but sometimes we need a human touch.

There is a line in the bible that fills my heart with joy.  It’s a line that at first glance seems so insignificant that you have probably read it a million times, but in a rush to get on with the story, you’ve probably never stopped to think about what lies behind the words.  It’s in Luke, chapter 23, verse 26.  “As they led him away they took hold of a certain Simon, a Cyrenian, who was coming in from the country; and after laying the cross on him, they made him carry it behind Jesus.”  Do you know that passage?  That one little line in the bible is where Jesus tells us we’re not meant to make this journey alone.  We are meant to accept help…not just offer it.

As Christians, we are called to give. “For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, a stranger and you welcomed me…” (Matthew 25:35).   It is often easy to give.  It’s human nature to help, to be kind, to lend a hand when needed.  It’s not so easy to accept help.  We raise our children to be independent.  We take pride in doing things on our own.  We like imagining ourselves as superheroes, juggling as many balls as we can.  But even Jesus accepted help…right there on the way to his death…just when he was feeling forsaken, God sent a human hand to help ease the burden.  This is pivotal…here Jesus is showing that we, as Christians, are not only called to give but to accept.  And to accept with humility.  To accept without argument.  Just to accept.

Jesus is God’s Son.  He is one of three persons in the Holy Trinity.  Jesus is God made man.  He has major power.  We know that.  We watched as he performed miracles, so we know that he could have picked up that cross and sprinted to Golgotha.  But he didn’t.  He struggled.  He fell.  Not once.  Three times.  He struggled…the entire way.  And when the soldiers called to Simon, Jesus humbly accepted help.  Notice there’s no verse in the bible that tells how Jesus tried to deny the help.  No verse that tells how Jesus was prideful, claiming that he didn’t really need the help.  Nope, none of that.  It simply says, “they made him carry it behind Jesus.”  Jesus accepted, without a word, without a struggle.  How often can you say the same thing?

Tape dispenser: $5.99

3 rolls of scotch tape: $4.26

Silence (even if only for a moment):  Priceless

 

Six.

It’s magical.

It’s filled with wonder and excitement.

Every day brings a new adventure,

a new opportunity,

a chance to meet a new friend,

discover a new place.

Life is good.

Happy Birthday, my sweet six year old…may this year be filled with all the wonder and excitement that comes with being six.  I love you.

Dear William,

Tonight I said goodnight to my sweet 3 year old for the last time.  When tomorrow arrives, you will be 4.  You are eagerly awaiting dawn.  I am not.  I want to hold on for as long as I can.

You are growing so quickly.  Each day I am astounded by the things you say and do.  You are rough and tough, yet compassionate and concerned.  You are the first to wake up each morning and you always exclaim that you’re “ready to start the day!” and you take that task very seriously, conquering each moment with gusto.  You are full of energy and full of life.  You spend a good part of your day asking “why”, trying to satisfy your curiosity.  You are an eager learner and a devoted helper.  You inspire me with each passionate moment.

At the end of each day, your head hits the pillow and your eyes struggle to stay open…you are exhausted from the energy used all day.  I snuggle with you each night until you fall asleep.  Just last night you wrapped your arms tightly around my neck and whispered, “Oh Mommy, I just want to be loved.”  My dear, you are loved.  You are loved and you are cherished.  Goodnight my sweet 3 year old…tomorrow I, too, will be ready to start the day…the day we celebrate you, my growing, vibrant 4 year old.

Love, Mommy

Happy St. Patrick’s Day from us to you!

Joseph likes routine.  He craves it.  He functions quite well when the routine is, well, routine.  But life doesn’t always cater to our routines.  We adapt.  We adjust.  Joseph trails along begrudgingly, not really adapting, not really adjusting, following along only because he has no choice.  I can see through his eyes that life can seem rather gray when it’s chaotic and you crave consistency, so  I’ve explained to him that life is full of seasons and that just as real seasons do, this “season” of life will pass.  A new season will arrive, full of hope and promise, despite how bleak and dull the current season may feel.  We have just entered our metaphoric spring, leaving behind three long months of winter, filled with morning sickness, renovations, and a lack of consistent routine.  While we experienced our long winter, we were reminded that just like nature, life has seasons of what looks like misery, but really they are filled with preparation for beautiful new life (and in some cases, beautiful new kitchens!).  We’re not running like clock-work yet, but each day brings us one step closer.  Each day we add back one more element of “normal” and Joseph is learning, begrudgingly, that seasons really do pass…spring really does arrive and with it, the hope and promise of a better day.

Our winter (these are from when we first moved in)…

Here are some more before pictures…

Here is our spring (and a lovely spring it is!)…

There are moments that I wish I could permanently etch into my mind.  Moments that remind me that I am loved.  I am cherished.  Today was one of those moments.

I was nursing Andrew, sitting with my feet up.  Joseph was sitting beside me, reading.  William was wandering aimlessly around, looking for something to get into.  It was quiet.  William disappeared down the hallway, only to reappear moments later with a bottle of lotion.  “Mommy,” he announced, “would it be okay if I gave you a massage?”  With my feet aching and a headache just beginning, I could not say no.  He hopped up on the couch beside me, squeezed some lotion into his tiny palms and began to rub his hands together.  “I’m going to rub you all over, Mommy!” he declared.  I just closed my eyes.  He massaged my legs, my arms, and then decided to rub my face.  “Just keep your eyes closed, Mommy.  I’ll tell you when you can open them.”  He hummed a little tune as he went about his work.  Then it was silent.  Completely silent.  His little fingers danced across my chin, my cheeks, my eyelids.  Then a whisper.  “Okay, Mommy, you can open your eyes.”  And I did.  There was William, not an inch away, our noses almost touching and in the stillness of the moment, he smiled and holding his hand out to my cheek, he whispered, “Mommy, you are my princess.  You are my darling.”  These are the moments that define me.

{this moment} – A Friday ritual.   A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week.  A simple, special, extraordinary moment.  A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.  If you’re inspired to do the same, visit Soulemama to leave a link to your ‘moment’ in the comments for all to find and see.