Baby Love Letters: Part III

Q: What inspires me?Everything that should, scripture, books, music, nature.

Some silly things like making lists, plans, and schedules.

Solid things like other widows joyful in the Lord's will. Because I fall, stumble, stutter, and fail so often.

My siblings, particularly at the moment Uncle Uriah. I see in him a young man hungry for the Lord, a lover of family, I see that children can rise up and call their parents blessed without using words. That his character speaks to them and the whole family, blessing each member and the extensions.

Young families not afraid to call their children a blessing or to have their quiver full. That disregard what others may say and are faithful and joyful to raise many children in the Lord.

Older families that have done this.Being a mother and of course you. Your openness and love for the world around you. The teachable spirit you exhibit, the joyful smiles you give me. You inspire and challenge me to be a better mother, a better teacher, a better women, a better Christian.

Words And Their Teachers

You know how words don't seem so wrong till they come out of your child? Lately Providence has began using the adjective stupid. Each time this comes out of her mouth I wince, it sounds so un-childlike. I am not entirely sure where she picked this up, though I think I may be able to once again blame Auntie Iv (she's taught her all her other "bad" words, like butt and po-po). The evidence I have against her is this: This morning Providence asked me to tell her a story, one that Auntie told her, though Auntie thought it was stupid after, Providence didn't. I then vaguely recalled the story and Ivanna at the end of telling it, admitting that it was kind of stupid. So there you have it. Yes I am presenting evidence with the words of a three year old who told everyone I was busy picking my nose when in fact I was scratching my nose, the bridge of it not in it, (it was peeling slightly from a sunburn). So finger pointed, blame shifted, thanks Ivanna for adding another such colorful word into my daughters vocabulary, glad we can still get doses of you from far away.

Back and Recovering

Camping was fantastic, I got to see mountains, hills and trees again, play in sand and water, and it didn't really get over 80 something. Plus sans phones and computers, but keeping things like a refrigerator was the perfect balance.
While catching up on blogs I downloaded some free music that I am really enjoying listening to, check it out yourself and get a new free album.

We're Going Camping Now

We're on our way...

We'll be back next week.

PS And we are in fact going trailer camping meaning we have a refrigerator, and a bed of sorts.

That's A Wrap

This last Sunday at church Providence "sang" all the songs. Not in the robust way she does in California but it is the first time she's sung each song at church here. She is also much more confident when she plays with friends at their houses, and by the way speaking of confidence the biggest moment of all....she spent the night at her cousins house. Yes, a whole night away from me, and she did great. It was on Joy's birthday, they stayed up late watching a movie and eating chocolate chips then she snuggled up with Auntie Kelsey and they talked till they fell asleep. I, on the other hand, woke up every half hour expecting the phone call that never came.

Years Past: Part IV

This one is remembered with many smiles, and so I apologize once again to the victim for my continued untimely laughter.

The story is set the summer I turned 18, (except I didn't turned 18 in the summer I already had previous to it). Accompanied with two friends I went gallivanting off in Europe, my traveling companions were Boy A and Girl B (in case they prefer to remain nameless, though I don't think either of them read my blog). These were the days before digital cameras, certainly at least for me, so I have taken a picture of a picture in my scrapbook to share. Also we apparently really didn't think any of us were worth film because I couldn't find one picture with all three of us.

We had spent a few fun weeks in England, Scotland, Wales, and Ireland and were ready to test the waters of some non-english speaking countries. So we said good-bye to the white cliffs of Dover and hello to Calais, France. When we got off the fairy we were met with a fairly small town at least in our immediate walking distance and armed only with our much-to-large backpacks and walking shoes we went in search of a place to lay our heads...and searched...and searched, turns out communicating is pretty important when trying to get directions.

We finally stumbled across a sign that had a tent and an arrow on it (hallelujah for picture signs) and followed the arrows all the way to a campground. Though we had no tent we paid for a spot as there were bathrooms and showers. It was the middle of summer and we did not account for the sea wind that Calais has, as in knock-you-down wind, we hoped since we would be close to the ground that none of us would fly away in the night and that our trusty sleeping bags would keep us warm.

As night fell we put all valuables into our sleeping bags pulled our backpacks up close to use as pillows and carefully placed our shoes next to our heads. Taking off her shoes Girl B said "Wouldn't it suck if someone stole our shoes?" I agreed that it certainly would since we had only brought one pair each. We then all stayed awake under the great big sky talking about things that had happened, things we were looking forward to, things we were worried about, and who we were missing back home.

We slept all night on the hard earth with wind whipping around and did not wake up once. To be that young again...or maybe just that tired. When my eyes finally opened the next day I was greeted with a beautiful morning. Boy A had already awakened and was up showering but Girl B continued to snooze away. I noticed then that the shoes she had so carefully arranged were not there anymore and happy to play along I asked her where her shoes were. This sat her up, and she groggily began searching in the very empty space they had been the night before, while I laughed heartily at her joke. Unfortunately when she told me through clenched teeth that it was not a joke but that someone had indeed stolen them, it did not stifle my laughter as I think she was hoping. No, instead it brought a new round of louder uncontrollable laughter, and each time I looked at her would bring on more.

Eventually I was able to control myself, she bought new shoes, and we continued on our way (she did forgive me then too).

And my shoes? Well they made it safely home, and are still occasionally worn.

Baby Love Letters: Part II

Q: What is my favorite memory of a summer day?To try and whittle favorite summer memories down to one is nearly impossible. I've had fun lazy summers with Aunties and Uncles, travel filled ones- in which I visited 9 countries in 6 weeks, or been on road trips, summers with births, summers with bikes, I've even had wasted summers (which don't particularly make it in the running), but I think my favorite summer memory is a fairly recent one, four years ago to be exact. The summer I was pregnant with you.

Since your father was deploying soon he received his pre-deployment leave in June of '04, with nearly everybody else in the Battalion traveling home for their leave we spent many glorious days without seeing anybody but each other. We went snorkeling, miniature golfing, to movies, on walks...but most days we spent at home playing cards, I don't think I've ever laughed so much in my life, or been that euphorically happy. I'm glad that in a small way you were able to know me then, to hear that laugh...the laugh your father gave me.

Though this memory is not specific, where I can write in on paper to share. My heart can still at times catch that feeling I had during those days, as if my heart had wings and could never come down. Unable to stop smiling. How different my smiles feel now.

I love spending summers with you, eating melon, going on picnic's, hearing you squealing with delight when some water makes its way to you on a hot afternoon. I hope each summer will become more memorable for you, not so much what is done, but the happiness shared. And I hope that you will one day experience a summer as rapturously blissful as the last one I shared with your dad.