My impulsive brain welcomes you

I'm thinking about bangs. Not little fringy wispy things, nope - I'm talkin' the real thing. I was probably 8 or 9 the last time I had thick, brow brimming bangs. I haven't convinced myself to go for it yet, but I'm close. Some women can pull off the thick bangs look in a stunning fashion. Some, not so much. Scary not to know where I will land here.

I have successfully posted a picture every single day on my photo blog since the second day of this new year. It has been challenging and very fun! I love forcing myself to see things from several different perspectives. This is helping me to accomplish that desire.

This little boy... oh my. What can I say - he slays me with one look. My heart is a mess. All melty and squishy when he smiles and jabbers. He is at a point where he most definitely requires discipline. I am at a point where I most definitely need to stand firm in the face of severe cuteness (yes, even when he is sternly angry  - gah! What's a mama to do???).

This strange thing is happening with his eyes. Do you remember when they were so stunningly clear blue? They appear to be turning into mine. Hazel. Kind of murky. Changes with moods. Interesting.

I overheard a conversation the other day between two women. One had worked subbing as K's aid in his classroom. "He's 8. Yeah, he knows classical songs by heart - and each composer!! It's crazy. He knows Mozart, and Tchaikovsky (yes, I just googled that to figure out how to spell it. Don't judge. K was occupied elsewhere and couldn't help me) - and he hums the melodies!"  - They think he is super smart. The truth? - He has seen one too many Little Einstein episodes. Ooops. What they don't know won't hurt them, eh?

I've never been on a missions trip. I can't get missions out of my mind. And you better believe I have tried! If you know me, you know that I will look for all of the possible justifications and ways out before I finally concede on something. Does this preoccupation with missions mean that we need to pack up and go overseas? Does it mean I need to increase my giving, more sacrificially? Perhaps that I should increase my awareness of the plight of those less fortunate than us? Focus on missions right here in my community?

Well, yes. And no. And all of the above. And I'm not really sure yet. I'm in that, "Okay God - you have my attention. What are you trying to say to me?" stage.

I am studying Proverbs 31 with my Mom2mom group at church. For the first time in my life I am understanding the depth of my responsibility, privilege, and calling in my home. This past week we investigated our own emotional stability (or lack of such...). *gulp* We looked at what God's word says about our ability to keep our emotions under control. We also tread on that thin ice of being stable despite our oh-so-precarious hormones. Oh yes, we did.

One of my favorite quotes from the study book we are using ("Beautiful in God's Eyes" by Elizabeth George) is this: "God's beautiful Proverbs 31 woman was the sparkling jewel in her husband's life. She brought the love, the color, the joy, the life, and the energy to the home... I am to light up the home with sparkle no matter how hard times are". 

Ladies, let's sparkle!! Doesn't that sound fun? Yes. but it is weighty too.

It is so on. I am doing this. I love that I get to bring the energy into my home. Positive or negative? My choice. Better make it a good one.

I'm bidding on a dress on eBay (trying to get a deal! It's part of being virtuous). It makes me catch my breath when I view it, and wait to see if I will win it. It's not like I go look at it several times a day or anything. La-ame! But it's silk, vintagey, and ivory with a thick black sash. It's feminine, soft looking, with some subtle ruffling, and pretty wow. Two days left.

I had a battle of wills party with my four year old yesterday morning. It was exhausting. His negotiating skills are crazy. He may have the advantage of cuteness. He may have the advantage of taking me by surprise. He may have the advantage of mini-lawyer syndrome. But guess what. I'm the mom. I will follow through. I will not back down. So try that on for size little mister "I object".

Why is Papa John's pizza so dang good? What do they put in the crust that makes me want to go back every day? Do I want to know? Is it legal? What's with that garlic butter goodness? Ugghh. Some body stop me.

peace

It's hard to explain this settled-ness.

This feeling of overwhelming fulfillment and gratefulness.

I sit here with my laptop - finding no way to creatively use my fingertips on small lettered squares to convey the peace that God has flooded into my life.

So much new has come into our lives over the past year. I was fearful of some of it.

Dave reentering school


Moving out of the baby stage with our boys


Financial restructuring

Among other things that don't make it onto the blog (yes, there are a few... *wink*)


There was new and unknown

Caution

Some rough transitions

And then this...


Peace.


Dave and I have together made breakthroughs as a couple.

Striving daily to seek the good of the other - more than our own natural self seeking.

It was not always this way {and some days it still isn't}.

And I believe that this has a whole lot to do with the peace we are experiencing at the moment.


And yet, there is this thread of fear, threatening the sweetness of the peace.

It is an old, old enemy.

One I do not care for at all.

It's the "waiting for the other shoe to drop" syndrome.

If things are going this well right now - surely a trial is in the not-to-far future!

Ugghhh..

Does that ever pop in to your mind?

When times are good - really, really good - does worry rob you of simply relaxing and basking in the joy of the moment?

It makes me so mad that I do this.

My goal right now is to savor this peace - and hold steady, on the solid rock, when the winds pick up and the storm clouds gather.

Right now I am smiling.

Smiling at the sweetness of friends you can be real with.

Smiling that in two weeks I will be 30 - and in my mind that is really a good thing.

Smiling that my menu is planned for the rest of the week.

Smiling that in two hours my family will all be together for the entire evening.

Smiling that right now - we are all healthy (YES!).


Sweet peace.

What I'm learning...

Thinking ahead and giving attention to the next mornings details, the night before, makes for mornings that are multiple times more calm and tolerable for all.

Boys will be boys. No matter what. I can run from that truth, be intimidated by it, or learn to praise God for this part of his creation. I'm studying the art of what makes boys (small and grown) tick. I may not ever truly understand them, but I can heap love on them all the days of their lives.

It is sad when 12 degrees feels a wee bit toasty.

I will likely always have sweaty palms and shaky hands when I speak in front of many people. But when I focus on the fact that "It isn't about me", zero in on the passion I have for what I am speaking about, and slow down, God can use what I am saying.

When I trust God {completely - no holding back} with our finances there is always, always, a blessing in it.

The world does not stop if all of the toys are not picked up at the end of the day {deep breath}.

Starting the day in God's word isn't some magic formula to a perfect day. But it sure is an incredible encouragement and priceless guide!

When your day starts at 5:30am it is wise to end it around 9:00pm.

There is nothing like a long soak in a large, corner, jacuzzi tub, with candles lit {nothing}.

Insecurity is one of the sneakiest and strongest forms of arrogance {self awareness at its peak}.

Allowing my kids a little bit more freedom, time away from me, and opportunity to make their own choices is stinkin' crazy, tear inducing, hard for me. And so, so good for them and me.

Having a child with special needs gives all the more opportunity to learn what love really is, and vast opportunity for growth.

January is long.

The end.

Alright-y then...

Apparently K's first grade class made some little resolutions for this new year.

                Apparently I have gotten a few of those parenting things WRONG, like teaching truth... and humility!(Or wait, maybe I got it all RIGHT!)

                                Apparently I have a little angel on my hands.

At least the toys are going to be picked up...

This being a mom... it's big

Our three day weekend ended up being extended to four. Yesterday there was some melting of snow and ice, and then some refreezing, and as a precaution our school district canceled school.

It was okay by me. And it was more than okay by two little boys who love nothing more than to spend the day in jammies, pretend, create, and chill out.

It was during our nap time yesterday (this is when the baby sleeps, the 4 year old thinks of every excuse he can to come out of his bed room so he doesn't fall asleep, and the 5 and 8 year old have crazy noisy "quiet time") that I had one of those "what am I doing, pretending that I know how to be a mom?!" moments. Ever have one of those?


Yeah, it can be kind of intimidating.

Jay was actually engaging in a rare restful moment. K was watching a movie, and I was doing some Bible study. Jay looked up at me from his comfy pile of blankets, pillows, and sleeping bags strewn all over the floor (we take nap time however we can get it around here!) and started firing questions faster than I could gather my thoughts. They weren't "How do birds fly" and "where does the snow come from" type of questions either. These were very well thought out and insightful.

Most of his questions were of a spiritual nature. Inquiring about those who choose not to believe in Jesus. Asking about what happens when we die... and when they die. I could see gears turning and puzzle pieces dropping into place in his mind, building upon what he has been learning.

This thing, this being a parent, it is big.

All afternoon I felt my mind being drawn to prayer - just asking over and over that I get it right. The way he was looking at me, the intensity of his blue eyes, it felt weighty to me.

I feel like asking "who am I to have all of these small people looking to me for direction?! I don't have all of the answers, - some days I feel like I, personally, have more questions than answers!"

Some days I don't want the responsibility of it all. I am a lump of selfish clay and I often feel myself wishing to  shrug off the accountability and authority that goes with this position.


But then I am reminded...

that this lump of clay has had  the breath of life infused into it

that I am working in cooperation with the One who intricately created these small people who look to me for their truth

that all I have to do is ask, out of a humble heart, and the right words will be there.

This is so big, isn't it? 

When life slows for a moment

This weekend has been so incredibly rare that I just had to take a moment to record it.



I'm so thankful, and I want to use this little spot to record good.


The good is this: After work on Friday afternoon Dave was done with work for three days, done with school for a couple of weeks, and the boys were done with school until Tuesday.


Ever since October our little family has been in a season of life that has been rather strenuous. Dave and I have met one another coming and going - and every now and then have had a moment to regroup and compare notes.


It has been constant, slightly hectic, and manageable only because we know that it is only for a season.



This three day weekend is indeed a gift. It's almost like on Friday at 4:00 I literally felt our accelerated schedule coming to a temporary halt.


I know it will take off again on Tuesday morning. I know that it will be a long time until this happens again. And I know that we will have to manage the crazy for several months once again.


But right here, right now, I am basking in unhurried moments with 5 guys who bring light into my days.


Friday night we enjoyed pizza as a family. Dave played play station with Jay (who was in bonding-with-daddy heaven). We put the boys to bed a little bit early and then Dave and I watched a movie together.


May not sound like a big deal to y'all.


Y'all, it was a big deal.


Do you know that as we began searching our memories we came to the conclusion that it has been over two years since we have sat down and watched a movie together?? Wowwww....


I'm talking about OTHER than Little Einstein's and Veggie Tales movies by the way...


And then yesterday we went on a date. A real date!


I didn't let an upper respiratory infection and double ear infections get in my way. Are you kidding me? It would take something alot worse than that to stop me!

One of the best things about last night: uninterrupted conversation. It was so foreign - and I enjoyed every second!


Today we got to sleep in, Dave made us an amazing breakfast, and THEN we were able to go to church together as a family.

All of us.

Together.

Again, may not sound that earth shattering, but trust me - this is big.


Tomorrow we are all going on a road trip to Grand Rapids to meet K's new neurosurgeon (this is our brand of family fun).


Loving, loving, loving this while it lasts...

It's like for a moment we have stepped off from this forward moving conveyer belt. And I'm pretty sure this is called God's grace. A slight reprieve right when it was needed.

Burnt toast

Before I get into the story of my purely selfish nature, let me stall for a minute quickly address yesterday.

So many of you exhibited great kindness in asking how I was doing yesterday, on the 8th anniversary of our son Joshua's death.

Yesterday was emotional. It was good, it was hard, it was busy, and we made it through.

The sun came up, I cried. 

I started a Bible study with three wonderful friends. One of those friends happened to be with me on that day eight years ago. For some reason, that was a comfort.

I had an appointment with K, it was good, distracting, and kept me nice and busy. What better way to commemorate Joshua's life than invest in K's?

My mom emailed me an incredibly sweet card. I cried (a very good cry, mom).

Knowing that people remembered, grieved with me, and cared meant the world. So, thank you. Each year softens the ache, but also reminds me how much this loss is now woven into the very threads of my being. It isn't going away and I will never be "over it".


Now - about my selfishness. And toast.

We were all tired this past Sunday night. At one point in the evening I realized that it would probably be prudent to prepare a meal for my boys.

They keep insisting on growing, which means eating (I know, the NERVE of them. Seriously, it's like 3 meals a day or something. So demanding.) Sometimes I feel like it is my lot in life to make food, clean up food, do dishes from the food that was eaten on them, and then... you guessed it - make food again.

I was really exhausted, not feeling the best and felt like I could barely move off from the couch (no, I'm not pregnant). :) Dave had been studying for several hours. He was working on writing a big paper, and was taking a little bit of a break from the mental strain that was putting on him. K said he would like some toast. I looked at Dave. Dave looked at me. Dave then kindly offered to make the toast. I knew that he was really ready to just chill out. I offered to do it (maybe, kind of halfheartedly). He said, no, that he would do it.

Insert fact about our toaster oven here: If you don't sit there and watch it make toast, and often pull the toast out before it thinks it is done, 9 times out of 10 it burns it. Don't know what its deal is, and it is nearly new, but it is very testy.

So anyway, Dave put the toast into the toaster oven and then looked out the window and noticed the snow in the driveway, and then glanced at the wood stove and thought about how it probably needed to be "fed" again. He went outside.

A while later I heard the "ding" signifying that the toast was made.

 I didn't want to get up and fix it for K.

Dave said he would do it.

I didn't want to have to do it after he said he would.


I went to the kitchen (maybe stomping, slightly).

The toast was burnt.

I felt myself getting angry.

K told me again that he was hungry.

I looked out the window and saw Dave on the lawn tractor plowing snow from the driveway.

Really??

Right now? He had to do it right now?


I pulled the toast out and stared at its charred edges.

I wanted him to see it.

I wanted him to see me slaving over putting new bread into the toaster and buttering it (Because it is so dang difficult to make toast!). And *cringe* I wanted him to feel bad.

There he was just having the time of his life - whatever, maybe plowing the driveway, but it was probably super fun - while I did the job he said he would do.

I can not believe I am even admitting the ugliness here - but I almost took the burnt toast outside to ceremoniously,

dramatically,

noticeably

put it into the outside trash.

How else would he know what he had done??


That is when my conscience began to break through my fatigue and selfishness.

What?!

What are you doing?

What are you thinking??

You wretched woman!

After hours of studying, this man saw all that needed to be done,

felt deeply the responsibility of it all,

and tried to do it all.

In the process, he burnt some toast.

BIG, fat deal! 

Get a grip lady.

Oh man, Realizing the thought process I was going down made me want to throw up. Only I still remember vividly how awful that is, so not really. Too fresh in my memory there.

Moving on. I felt really bad.

I put the burnt toast in an empty microwave popcorn bag that needed to be thrown away and I put it in the bottom of the trash can. The inside one.

I was still very tired. I prayed that God would help me to be the woman that he intended me to be. I prayed to build up, not tear down.

I served K the toast as Dave walked in.

He quickly assessed the situation.

He had forgotten about the toast and had been distracted by the other duties calling him.

And he felt bad.

He felt bad - and he had just plowed the driveway, fed the dog and cats, took the trash (minus two pieces of black toast) out to the road for the early morning pickup, AND filled the wood stove with wood. - During which time I concocted a plan to make him feel bad - and then

um,

 made some toast.


I'm so dumb sometimes.

He apologized and I felt really, really guilty. We talked about it - and all was well.


I write this because this simple, and now pretty funny, experience blew open my own view on my own heart. It helped me to realize how often I do this. Unfortunately, many times I follow through with the evil in my heart and do not repent. I am more aware of it now. Passive aggressive anyone? (raises hand).

It's not good.

And I know I am not alone (someone? any one? I'm not alone... right??).  It's so easy to just go with our natural tendency and not fight for what is so much better.

I'm fighting for it.

And let me tell you, it will be a fight.

Getting over myself always is.

I am...

...Tired, tired, tired of sick. We can't seem to get past its grip. The stomach flu over Christmas has now led back to ear infections and sore throats that we had going on before Christmas. And it makes for some weary moments for a weary mama.

Excited about the stirrings of conversation from the dearest man in my life about possibly building a small photo studio...

Loving being back on a schedule and incorporating some much needed disciplines into my life again.

Growing in my love for God's Word.

So proud of this boy for his dedication in meeting reading goals (and of course joining in his exuberance of earning a free personal pizza).

Learning a little bit more every day about what love really is. And how far away "self" must be to truly love the way Jesus implores us to.

Shocked at how fast kids grow up. Shocked.

Fulfilled.

Laughing over my "epiphany" that I don't hate cleaning. What I hate is that feeling of being behind in cleaning/organizing and always feeling that looming over my head. Ends up - I really like cleaning when I am caught up. It's almost strange.

Sometimes puzzled over the way relationships change with time and circumstances. The last few years have brought alot of that for me. -Never sure if I have made some missteps and some how botched up relationships that are dear to me, or if time, busyness, and normal "life" have just been in play.

Trying hard not to get testy and unkind during specific times of the month...

Still working on memorizing Psalm 119. Apparently my brain has about a 22 verse threshold, then it turns on me in a rebellious sort of way that mixes words and confuses verses. Nice.

May possibly be turning into a morning person. Maybe.

Bursting with ideas for vinyl wall decor, new curtains, refinishing a coffee table, and painting cupboards.

Fairly certain that Noe B only stops talking when he is in a deep sleep.

Emotional over the cancer diagnoses of one of the sweetest ladies I have ever had the privilege of knowing, and am learning greatly from the sturdy faith her family is demonstrating.

 Still pretty sure that this is the year of "acceptance" and "surrender" for me. I don't have to like it, but I am (slowly) learning it.

Top 5 of 2010

I wanted to take a moment to share some blog posts that really touched me, even changed me, in 2010.

1)  "Grief is not a neat little package"
This blog post was written by my sweet childhood friend, Hayley. It amazes me that a five short months after facing a horrible loss she was able to work through and articulate this lesson that I am still working on.

 "I am realizing that I can't compartmentalize it all. {wise words from Deeann - Walmart rug aisle 1.5 hr chat therapy session} I can't put Gabe away and move on to the next house project or the next Bible study or the next season or holiday or the next ministry opportunity or even baby #4".

Read it, but get your kleenex box first.

2) “Where it hurts”
Amy Beth Bullard is a single young lady who just blows my mind! She has accomplished so much in her 26 years, and writes in an emotionally raw way that really draws in her readers!

Something within me just clicked when I read this blog post. Some loose ends that were floating around in my mind asking "why" seemed to finally find some footing on what God had taught Amy Beth about pain.

"Wherever we were hurt seems to be the place where He asks us to give the most."

3) “The tightrope” 

This busy mom of 3 (soon to be 4!) has become very dear to me. We have shared emails, many comments over blog posts, and a marvelous few hours of chatting over Panera soup and sandwiches!

This blog entry convicted me. It just did. I could have written alot of it. All about that tightrope we walk daily - to die to self each minute.

4) “From God’s arms, to my arms, to your arms"
My friend Kristin. Not sure she grasps the breadth of influence she has had on me.

This post is a letter from the heart. Song lyrics, and then her own words, dedicated to the birth mother of Kristin's precious son Caleb. Just wow. I love this lady's heart.

5) “Lessons”
Okay - so I just checked and this was technically written in 2009 - but we aren't big on technicalities around here, so I am going to include it anyway.

Esty and Dave traveled with Life Action Ministries together - I think maybe 14 years ago?.I've never met Esty in person, but we are pretty much kindred spirits. She doesn't know this yet, but I am planning a big stalking ordeal where I drag all of my boys over to Florida and we hang out at the ocean and stuff.

So, anyway - this blog post made me die of laughter - it has stuck with me ever since I read it, you know, way back in 2009!

Excerpt:

"If you smell something coming up the hallway to a bedroom and think: "My, it smells like poop up here" don't get distracted and walk anywhere else.

Go Immediately.


Watch where you step.


Have strong stomach and weak gag reflex."

Oh.my. I don't know if it is because I could relate hugely with everysingleword, if it is because we both have a houseful of boys, or what, but I just love, love, loved this post!

While you are at it, read this one from Esty too. Phenomenal letters to her future daughters from China!

What happened on day 3

January 5, 2003

The sound of the phone ringing never fails to makes my pulse quicken these days. I always wonder if it will be the hospital. We are there most of the time, but we do come home to sleep and get a little bit of respite from all of the hospital time.

When the phone rang this morning we were getting ready for church. We hadn’t gone since the babies were born, but we thought it would be really good for us to go.

The phone call put a stop to those plans.

It was the neonatologist. He said we should come up to the hospital right away. I started crying immediately when Dave told me that. The doctor told us that both boys had suffered brain bleeds, Caleb’s being much more severe.

I was convinced that they were telling us Caleb was going to die. I wondered if we would get there in time. I couldn’t stop crying the entire drive to the hospital. Dave said the doctor had sounded very serious on the phone.

Dave had the foresight to call our family and friends so that they could be praying their hearts out.

When we arrived we immediately searched for the doctor we had talked to on the phone. There are 6 neonatologists on staff in our NICU. They are often quite hard to track down. It took us a while to find him. We were so anxious!

When we finally found him, the doctor very soberly began talking about the brain bleed and how drastically it had affected Caleb. I began to cry again. His words all blended together. I heard things about brain activity, cerebral palsy, low expectations, etc. Dave stopped him mid sentence. “You keep talking about how this will affect his quality of life. When we got the phone call this morning we were under the impression that his life was in jeopardy. Please clear this up for us. Could this take his life or just affect what you deem his “quality” of life?”

When the doctor spoke again his words pierced through the fog of grief that I had taken onto myself. “Oh no, this isn’t life threatening, if treated quickly and correctly. That’s not what we are trying to convey.  It’s just that a bleed this severe will reduce him to little more than a vegetable.”

As his words sank in, I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Dave and I turned and grabbed each other tightly. I felt like I could just fall right to the floor.

It was funny to see the look on the doctor’s face. I’m guessing he doesn’t often get that kind of a relieved reaction from parent’s whom he has just told that their child may be a completely non functioning person.

But all I felt at that moment was the fear leaving my body. Dread that I would have to say good bye to my son that day, like I had feared the second I heard the phone ring.

I don't think he really registered our reaction at first, because he continued talking to us in a very sympathetic, and I guess in what he thought was an understanding, way. "I know this must be very hard news to hear. I wish I didn't have to tell you how very damaged your child's brain is. He is very dependent on life support right now, and you both need to know that no one here would fault you if you want us to turn it off and just make him comfortable..."

I couldn't believe it! The implications of what he was saying were not lost on us. Basically - your kid isn't going to amount to anything according to our vast medical knowledge, and if you want to quietly let him die we would stand behind you. 

Even now - as I sit here recalling this crazy day, I can not fathom this being offered to us.

He was assured that this was not an option we would be taking. I was so proud of Dave, because he made it clear, in no uncertain terms, that we never wanted that "option" to be spoken of to us again. 

I felt like taking a long nap after that, but instead went over to Joshua's isolette. He is looking so good. What a balm to my weary soul! As I was standing there talking softly to him his nurse asked me if I wanted to hold him. 

Hold him! I was so surprised. I didn't think that would happen for some time. Of course I wanted to.

I was scared and excited all at the same time as they unhooked his ventilator and heart monitor leads. It was a long process. Getting him situated in my lap took a while as well. They had to clip his ventilator tubing on to my purple sweater and keep it level. I felt like I couldn’t move any part of my body or I would turn alarms on.

But then I just focused on him. Oh that precious face! His eyes are still fused shut. They won’t open for another 2 weeks or so. Still, he is such a completely formed beautiful child!

It kind of felt like I was just holding a blanket. He’s only about 1 lb. 6 oz right now. He had the normal initial weight loss those first couple of days, but is holding his own quite nicely now that he is getting my breast milk.

Feather light. I took his little hat off for a few seconds and stroked his light brown hair. He has quite a bit of it. I quickly put his hat back on when one of his nurses gave me that disapproving and stern look... I know I have to be so careful. He can’t keep his own body temperature up and the hat is important. 

I was so nervous at first that I didn't allow myself to enjoy the moment. I didn't want to do any thing to cause him to have breathing or heart problems, so I sat there - really tense and cautious. I don't know what I expected. I guess maybe to feel like a mom. I didn't.

And then he squirmed a little bit and it looked like he was trying to open his eyes. I felt some small stirrings in my heart. Like - maybe this is going to be okay. Maybe I can do this. Maybe, just maybe, I can just enjoy holding my son. So, I just sat their and breathed him in. He smells like beauty. Sweet, sweet baby smell. Even past all of the smells of the hospital and medicines, I could breathe in the wonderful scent that is newness just sent form God himself.

And for a moment I was a mother. Not a nervous onlooker watching the nurses rush around. Not a frightened woman who can barely look into the future for fear of what might be there.

It was just me and him. In a rocking chair.

Oh my baby! How I have longed for this tender moment with you. You made my heart overflow with joy. A joy I haven’t known for weeks.

How good to see him start to thrive.

So, another day done. Another prayer of thanks. Another night of restless sleep.

Resurrecting an old project

About two years ago I started a really fun photo project. I took a photo each day during my 29th year. I started it the day I turned 28 and ended it the day I turned 29. I posted these pictures on a blog that I had entitled "my 29th year". It was such a fun challenge! Some days it was easy to find the treasure in the day and photograph it for the blog. Other days.. not so much. I mean really, after two or three days of stay at home mommy-ness do you photograph the dirty diaper, the cute spaghetti covered grin, or the huge pile of laundry?? ;) Amazingly, there were only about 50 days in the entire year that I did not post a picture. I think one of the coolest things about this project for me was that it forced me to search out the beautiful in my everyday. Not just finding it, but focusing on it - literally. Photographing something causes you to stop, really think, slow down, and meditate on beauty.

So - I am going back to the project! At first it was kind of nice not to have to do the daily picture, because it was just one more thing to add to my ever increasing to-do list. Plus - it was my 29th year project - AND the blog was called "my 29th year", so it had to be over, right?? But over the past 6 months or so I began thinking about how much fun I had with it...and I really missed doing it.

Well, it is back - with a new look, a new name, and open ended potential. :) I am excited to be doing this again, but not putting any pressure on myself. It may be hit and miss at times, but I know it will help me to see treasures in my days! Like, for instance - there may be days where I am cleaning up vomit for the 7th day in a row. And I may actually be scrubbing it off walls. And I could have to cancel working at the pregnancy center and I may end up with 4 loads of laundry that smell horrific. And if something like that were to happen, I would have to find a treasure in that day. In theory.

It has also been really neat to scroll through the photos from my 29th year and relive those moments. I have missed being able to do that last year.

So, this is really for me, but I thought I would invite you all along for the ride if you are interested. I will still be posting pictures here - and writing here, nothing will change with this little spot. If you want to take a peak, just click on the "photo blog" tag on the link bar above.

Eight

Eight years ago tonight I had no idea how much my life was about to change.

And now I know.

I know what it is to be scared, and confused, and breathless, and deeply in love with some one very, very small.

 I wondered if I would be able to keep him.

And God granted me an amazing miracle.

Two amazing miracles.

Answers to countless prayers on account of our identical twins.

One was healed completely, forever.

One we get to be with today.

Tomorrow he is eight. Eight. With carefree smiles and a great love for his new Mp3 player.

I have been blessed to go from daily swallowing a horrible dark fear, and putting on a brave face, to openly loving this child.

Those early days were composed of emotions twisting inside of me - fear, caution, love, disappointment, and ups and downs that were way too close together and way too vast.

Some days he was, by far, the braver of the two of us.

I longed for the day when we could bring him home, but I wouldn't allow myself to decorate the nursery. Too many dreams already shattered to risk that.

I longed for the day he would call me mama, but often I struggled to feel like that's who I really was.


And then - 96 days later he was home. And 6 months after that he said "mama". Every hour of lost sleep, every dirty diaper, and every bucket load of drool was so, so worth it. :)

His birthday still brings up some of that twisting of emotions. I never want a dark shadow to detract from his special day, and yet... you know, it is what it is.

My mind glimpses two boys - shared birthdays - eight year olds having the time of their lives.

But that is not what it is.

My heart is very grateful for what I once held and for what I do hold. And tonight, tomorrow, each day, I am celebrating.

Happy eighth birthday JD and K!!!