Family – Page 11 – Skies of Parchment

January 13, 2011March 20, 2013

Dreaming of White

The term “drafty old house” has taken on quite new meaning in the past few months. Houses in the south weren’t designed for cold. When we bought this house there was not one speck of insulation in the whole 1,500 square feet of it. Not one speck. We insulated all the outside walls and a few of the inside if we were working on/tearing out anyway, but the floor, which is wooden with a crawl-space under the house, has nothing. Nada.

Which makes for very cold floors. VERY cold floors. Icy cold floors, when the weather outside is in the 30’s and lower, especially. Which is why I wear socks AND slippers at all moments of every day, except in the shower. That’s understated, but just had to clarify. And try to convince all other occupants of the house that it’s in their best interest to wear slippers and socks as well. But despite her frigid little slipperless toes, Zoe somehow loves to go barefooted… until a violent shiver convinces her to do what I could not.

But that is why, at the moment, I’m drinking a steaming cup of London Fog Tea. I was just introduced to it by my sister Ervina, and I was smitten immediately. You’d have to like black tea to enjoy it, which I do. I like my hot coffee in the morning, then tea in the afternoon, and sometimes tea in the evening as well. We do what we can to stay warm around here, even if the thermometer doesn’t go about 67 degrees. We Husband likes to be economical like that.

But ah, London Fog Tea. Here’s the recipe, given by Ervina:
1 Earl Grey tea bag, brewed in hot boiling water.
1 teaspoon raw sugar
a bit of milk
a few drops of vanilla extract

Let steep for several minutes, and enjoy!

Despite the cold weather, and as chilly as our fingertips stay
(I really am not exaggerating with the interior weather of the cottage!),
we are dreaming of snow.
Dreaming is all we’ll ever do here, I’m afraid.
Snow is as uncommon as the ocean is to a land-locked state.
There are occassional flurries, which one almost needs a microscope to be able to see,
but which the town will delightedly chatter about for weeks afterward.

But almost every day, I kid you not,
almost every day for the past, oh, at least month,
Zoe’ will come to me and say,
“Mom, we should look at SNOW pictures!”

And so we do.

I adore snow.
Zoe’, with all the 3 times she’s ever seen snow, also adores snow.

And since we don’t have snow of our own,
we look at pictures of when we experienced snow.
Together.
The two of us, a year ago…

… A dear friend, Linda, and I were traveling up north before Christmas, gaining an extra week with our families before our husbands could get there. We were caught right in the middle of the Snowstorm of ’09 in the northeast. A trip that should have taken us 12 hours ended up taking us 22 hours. And we had 3 children, 2 and under. It was a long trip. It was a fun trip. :)

This was Interstate 95, right around Washington D.C. The roads were terrible. Looking back, I can’t believe we made it okay. We drove at about 30mph or less for most of the trip, which made it seem to take forever to get anywhere! But the snow was absolutely gorgeous, especially to our snow-deprived eyes! Our husbands kidded us that the snowstorm was all our fault, because we had been hoping so desperately for snow when we went up north! We sure got it!

All 18 inches of glorious white.

We arrived safely at our destination,
with many prayers of our husbands, families, as well as our own,
after 22 hours.
What memories were made!!

We woke up the next morning,
safe in a warm, cozy house
to this:

It was a winter wonderland. And we were snowed in.
SNOWED IN!
I had only dreamt about things like that after moving away from the north several years ago,
and here was the north at its finest. Zoe’ was enraptured, as was I.

It was MAGICAL!

Seriously, get me in some snow and I feel like a little kid.
It takes 10 years off my face, if not more, and I start acting much younger than that! :)
I think I need a little more of that kind of therapy to rid me of these
much unwanted grey hairs I’m beginning to find upon my head!!

As soon as we could get ready, Zoe and I
[and a sweet photographer sister of mine,
willing to brave the cold to capture us southern folk in snow]
bundled up and stepped out into the wonderland.
My heart races just remembering how fun this was, and it was over a year ago! :)

She didn’t know what to think at first, not even being able to walk!
Poor child had no snow suit or boots – we were so not prepared.

By my parents’ barn, where I spent many an hour grooming my horse
[that I had literally saved every penny for]
when I was a teen…

Out into the open field!
Thankfully I have a sister the same size as me, and I could borrow her snow clothes and look all in style. :)

I walked around the neighborhood, taking pictures, breathing in the dry cold air, and couldn’t stop smiling. :)

I stopped to visit my grandmother, who lives two doors down, and found her house almost covered in snow drifts!

And a few more pictures of the Zoe-Girl and her mother… The snow was so bright, it almost blinded Zoe.

This week I was going out to run errands in town with the girls, getting everyone strapped in the car, and was just buckling in myself, when I heard a little voice in the backseat:

“Mom? We should pray that we can live in a house where we’ll have lots of snow.”

She had talked with her Papa and Nana that morning and heard that they had snow there through the night.
AND
we had looked at Snow Pictures that morning.

What’s a parent to do with a request like that?
We can’t just move a thousand miles north that easily,
just to have a little snow.

But I want my children to learn to talk with God about the things that matter to them,
even if they’re somewhat impossible things

So we stopped, and I held little hands [Olivia wanted to be included in the prayer too]
and we prayed that maybe someday we could live in a house where we’ll have lots of snow…

A daylater when Ben came home I told him that there had been 5 inches of snow where my parents lived! I was being very melodramatic, him knowing I was fully in jest and fully in earnest :) and ended with
“I wish we could have snow too!”

Zoe was watching and piped in very seriously and emphatically:
“Mom, don’t cry! [that was part of my melodrama in jest]
Remember we’re going to live in a house
by Papa and Nana [that part was added by her, we didn’t pray that]
and we’ll have LOTS OF SNOW!
Remember? So don’t cry!”

I burst out laughing.
And also felt a bit, okay, a LOT unsure of how to respond to her!
In her little mind, this is real!
We prayed, it’s going to happen!
So she thinks.
And believes.

Maybe she knows something we don’t.
Maybe not.
Maybe we’ll just have snow when we head up north this weekend
and that’ll satisfy her snow-hunger.
Maybe she’ll have to learn to trust God
even when it’s not what she prayed for.

But that’s been our precious little interchange this week!

Ahh, such lovely memories a little snow can make! We both love to go back and look at these pictures. And we smile. And smile. And smile…

One of my favorite snow memories of all time is a HUGE snowstorm we had when I was a kid growing up. I can’t remember my exact age, I’m thinking around 10-12 maybe? But we had 3 feet of snow at one time. It was incredble! We were snowed in for 2-3 days before any plows came by our road [we were usually one of the last roads in the county to get plowed]. I was always sooooo excited when we got snowed in, because we’d drink hot chocolate by the gallons, play games, read lots of books, and just have so much fun together as a family!

On this particular time, after a day or so, my sister Jana and I decided we had had enough of being inside. We were going to go walking. We were such little squirts, I don’t know what we were thinking, but we bundled up in all our fluffy glory, looking twice our size in width, and out into the snow we went. It was a glorious wonderful wonderland! Glorious!

We headed down the unplowed road, since we at least knew we wouldn’t stumble over corn stalks like we would in the fields. But 3 feet of snow for an 8 and 10 year old to walk through was hard. We walked a half mile down to some huge drifts which were much higher than 3 feet, where we made tunnels in the snow and huge caves.

And then suddenly we were tired. REALLY tired. And cold. We had bundled well, but we had walked farther than we expected to and there was a cold wind blowing. We sank into one of our caverns for a while, and finally decided we needed to get back home and have some hot chocolate before we froze to death. You know the cold where you can hardly talk because your lips are almost frozen? It feels really wierd. And looks even wierder. But that’s coooooooooold.

We headed back the 1/2 mile to our house, and I remember wondering how in the world we were going to make it. Every step took so much energy, and we didn’t have energy anymore. The snow came almost to our waists (the wind had blown some of it in drifts so it wasn’t all 3 feet everywhere) and it took such effort to walk even a few feet.

I, being the big sister, knew my little sis was extrememly tired, and so didn’t let on how tired I actually was too. I tried to encourage her, and we kept on trudging.
Tramping.
Breathing hard.
Stopping to rest and flop down on the drifts.

We had been gone several hours, and f.i.n.a.l.l.y made it back home. We were wiped out. So completely tired and exhausted.

But we did it! We kept on walking and we made it home. Safely. No emergency rescue needed.

And looking back, that is one of my all-time favorite snow memories!

[three out of four sisters]

So now I want to hear from YOU!
What’s your favorite snow memory?

[you don’t need a xanga site to comment]

I’d love to hear!

I’m out for the weekend, and when I get back I hope to have
MANY
snow stories to read. :)

~clarita

January 4, 2011March 20, 2013

A Christmas to Remember

It’s a beautiful sun-shiney day in the south. Warm and balmy. Perfect for a walk or a run. At least it appears that way. So far my motivation has stayed indoors today. :)

Well, it’s been an eventful past week and a half. When I last posted, saying it was a “relaxing and quiet week” I had no idea what lay before me!

Christmas is my VERY favorite season of the entire year. I say “season” because the entire month of December is included in that. It’s a feeling the whole month long. The Christmas music [my new favorite this year was Bing Crosby. :) Something about that old crooning made me smile every time!]. The “Merry Christmas!” wishes everywhere we go. The festive decorations. The remembering the miracle of the Incarnation.

[Olivia being caught after sneaking off with the gingerbread house.]

We watched The Nativity as a little family, thankfully being warned beforehand that there are a few scenes which are best to be fast-forwarded for a very young and innocent audience. Those scenes would include the soldiers taking the babies [mildly put] and the birth scenes of Baby John (the Baptist) and Baby Moses [almost mildly put].

Zoe was absolutely enamored. She was absolutely spellbound, soaking it all in. It was so precious. She could not stop talking about it! Taking too much in, really, because afterward she asked, “Why wasth Mary thcreamin’ when Jostheph wath pullin’ the baby out?” My answer, “Well, uuuuuuuuuuhhh, because it hurts to have a baby, honey child!!” [was that answer enough?!]

When I went into the girls’ bedroom later that night to say goodnight, Zoe’ said, “I want to be Mary.” And when asked why, she said, “Becausth I want a little baby.” “When you get bigger and are married, then maybe God will give you a baby,” I replied.

“And then daddy [her assumed husband of the future is always Ben] can hold the sthringsth on the donkey, and I can thit on it, and he can take usth to the plathe where the theeps and the cowth and the animalth are. And then our baby will be BORN!! And it will be Baby JETHUTH!!” [the ending said with great excitement].

I couldn’t help but laugh aloud at her, so innocent and sweet and funny. But then after she was asleep I went back in and kissed her cheeks, and looked at her and cried. She is so innocent, so pure.

A role model of Mary. Not Barbie. Not some silly little cartoon character. Just precious…

I was thanking God that night for the privilege of being a parent.

A few days later I was thinking the parenting thing is slightly over-rated, as I sat at home on Christmas Eve, stroking fevered brows, reading stories to two little girls who were down-and-out SICK. It had started Wednesday evening, and I had hoped it would be a 24-hour sickness that runs its course quickly and be done with. Not so.

I will say, I actually rather enjoy taking care of my children when they’re sick. The mercy and servant side of me [which remains dormant most of the time] comes flowing out of my pores in circumstances like these, and I love to do anything I can to help them feel better. I found myself constantly saying, “Oh, I just feel so sorry for them!!”

Perhaps it’s partly my fond childhood memories of being “babied” by my mom when I was sick, even when I wasn’t a baby anymore. There is just something so good about knowing someone feels so sorry for you in times like those!

But when Christmas Eve Day came around and I realized that they were not going to be better by Christmas, I was an emotional wreck. Ben’s family was all in the area for the whole weekend, and I realized sick children meant no getting out and seeing anybody. No dinners, no parties, no extended family, no Christmas??

[anyone else’s kitchen ever look disatrous??]

God and I had a lot of “time-outs” on Friday. I couldn’t believe this was what my Christmas was going to be like, and had a really difficult time accepting the hard reality. Christmas is my favorite time of the year, and it was just going to be… nothing this year?? I thought about calling this post “Tears on Christmas Eve” but thought that’d be too morbid. :) That, however, is an accurate picture.

I finally made it to the shower around 1pm, and just cried. Cried out of disappointment. Cried because of how this Christmas was not what I expected or desired. Cried for strength to be a gentle mother to my children. And cried for strength to be a good wife to Ben despite my many emotions… Praying for it to somehow still be a special Christmas, to still find Jesus in it.

Christmas Eve night Zoe was not only sick, but feeling worse. We were concerned she had strep throat, and were contemplating an emergency room run. Zoe had been a patient little girl until that evening, and despite the sore throat, almost complete voice loss, and fever, had been holding up well. But that night she lay in her bed and just sobbed, or I should say squeaked – as much as a voice-less little girl could squeak out. It was awful.

Up to that point I had been fairly strong outwardly [the shower tears didn’t count!]. A few inward crumbles, but still holding together. But those painful little squeaks just set me over the edge. I just lay there beside her and cried along with her. So much for being a strong, comforting parent. I would have done anything to be sick in her place. There are few things worse than seeing your child in pain and not being able to do anything about it.

We did not take her to the hospital, but instead gave her some painkillers and other CVS remedies that Ben’s sister brought over late at night [BLESS you, Sonya!] to try to ease her misery. We fell into bed exhausted around midnight. The rest of the weekend seems like a blur – a cycle of holding, comforting, caring for, reading to [until I was almost hoarse], sleeping in their room at night with the girls [which meant the worst week of sleep of my entire life].

[we look like a pharmacy around here]

Christmas Day dawned clear and bright. And warm. Almost air-conditioner weather, but we built a fire in the fireplace anyway, just for atmosphere’s sake. :)

We exchanged our gifts as a little family in the morning, which brought smiles from the girls for the first time in over two days. We went very simple with gifts for the girls – gave them both a doll and some little German-made animals, which they absolutely LOVED. You’d have thought we spend our life’s fortune, so happy were they. :) I splurged on Ben completely, and bought him an ipod touch. I had been saving money from My Faire Lady, a few little photo things, and piano money, and he was thrilled to pieces. He’s been wanting one, but ever-frugal husband that he is, didn’t want to spend the money.

[sick children mean extra privileges, i.e. pacifiers even when it’s not bedtime]

Ben spent the afternoon with his family on Christmas Day since all of his family was together, a rare event. I stayed home with the children, and they both took LONG naps which was so refreshing for me. I was able to spend a few hours reading a book of my own calibar, and this quote struck me so powerfully:

“The future greatness of our race depends upon
those noble women who are able to pass on to
their sons and daughters a life which is true,
and brave, and worthy;
a life whose foundation is self-sacrifice,
whose cornerstone is loyalty,
and from whose summit waves the banner
of unsullied love of hearth and home.”
[Florence Barclay]

Ben returned home early in the evening and we spent the rest of the evening together – reading more books to Zoe, watching Tom & Jerry on youtube… much to Ben’s delight. :) Hey, on a sick Christmas Day, you’ve got to do something to brighten the moods!! :) Christmas Day was actually a better day for me than the one before – I had enough time to mentally prepare to just be at home that I was okay. Not so many tears that day. :)

My mom is so good for me in times like these. She listens to me over the phone, and I feel her sympathy, yet I always know a particular question is coming, to not let me stay in the dumps: “Well, think of what you DO have – what would be worse than this?” I thought initially that there is not much worse than sick children on Christmas Day [!!], but really, there ARE much worse things.

I could have a child with a chronic illness on that day, I could have a child no longer living that day… Yes, I had sick children that day. But I had children. Children whom I dearly love. Children who ARE going to get well one day. I have full arms. I really am blessed. Even if it was the saddest Christmas I’ve ever had.

Well, it didn’t end there. Ben got sick on Sunday, and spent most of the day in bed. Olivia was feeling much better by that point, so I took care of her while Zoe slept the day away with Ben. By Monday Zoe still wasn’t much better, so Ben took her to the doctor. No strep, like we thought it surely must be, but the doctor thought it was probably mouth sores down her throat, which just need to run their course…

[a bit of the outdoors brought inside]

Later that week the girls were both feeling better, but somehow when kids are getting better, but not all the way better, they get g.r.u.m.p.y. Or maybe it’s just my kids?? As in, ridiculously grumpy, where we had battles over the silliest things. Not carrying Zoe from Point A to Point B, about 15 feet, [she is three and a half years old] resulted in a tantrum. I’ve never known her to throw a tantrum all her three point five years, but she threw one that day. We had a little session in the “woodshed” and she now thinks tantrums are definitely not worth the effort.

[When “the sick” become “the grumpy”, I will admit my mercy and servanthood and all those other warm and kind emotions that flowed out of the pores before suddenly cease. Clogged pores somewhere. Bad attitudes don’t stand well with me. If you’re sick, be sick and I’ll nurse you and care for you and deal tenderly with you. But don’t be sick AND grumpy. All baby treatment ends at that point.]

But one day I called Ben in tears and asked if he could please come home for lunch? I was emotionally and physically exhausted from hardly sleeping at night due to sick girls, and was just wore out. We were still having ridiculous battles, and I felt like I wasn’t able to hold up anymore. He was working locally, something very rare, and I needed him desperately. He was a lifesaver. He stepped through the back door. I tried to be brave for 5 seconds, then fell into his arms, sobbing, “It’s SUCH HARD WORK being a mom!!!!!!”

My whole Christianity seems to be tested these days. How two small children can make me feel and act so selfishly is scary. No, not make. No one can make me act a certain way. Just bring out what is really inside. There is still so much work that Christ needs to do within me. SO much.

I thought of the quote by Amy Carmichael:

“The cup that is brimful of sweetness will not spill a single drop of bitter,
no matter how suddenly jarred.”

How I long to be like that sweet cup. But I know there has been a lot of “bitter water” that has been jarred out of me over the past two weeks.

A week later, the sores are mostly better for Zoe, Ben and Olivia are both recovered from their sickness as well, but all three of them have begun a really bad cough… So we’ve pretty much been cottage-bound for the past 2 weeks, with the exception of two outings over New Years’ weekend, and an amazing delightful gourmet meal prepared by my sweet friend Linda… Olivia has begun to BEG to go “bye-bye”, almost to the point of tears. We are all ready to be done with all sickness… and ready to get out and see people again!

So, Christmas of Twenty-Ten, a Christmas to Remember [and hopefully never to be repeated] is now history. Interesting, though, how I feel as though God prepared me for a different kind of Christmas. Sometime in December the thought came to me that this Christmas is not about me. I don’t think I’ve idolized Christmas before, but it’s always been my favorite time of year. And this year? It just felt different from the start.

“It’s not about me…”

Little did I realize how true that would be. Because this year instead of receiving much of anything, it’s been about pouring myself out of for my little family. Somehow, that is the place God had for me this Christmas – in our little cottage, holding and loving sick children and husband, and reading Bible stories to Zoe for hours upon hours. Truly, she should be literate in the history of the entire Bible because of how much she was read to!

Part of me is sad about “missing” Christmas, because to us it feels like it hasn’t happened yet. And I hear about snow up north, and I would love to be somewhere like that. But perhaps this Christmas was CHRIST lived out in our little family like I’ve never had to do before? Or Christ teaching me that CHRISTmas is about giving to others, even if it’s in ways that I would rather not do?

I had been thinking I would really enjoy having a particular older man over to our house, one that I doubt has 5 people in his life that he could say are his friends. And give him a Christmas. Show him love and friendship. Or have a family over from church that doesn’t have other family in the area. That was my kind of sharing-love-on-Christmas idea.

But God’s idea was different. And I admit, I didn’t like it. I wanted to be the strong, brave mother and wife who beamed all Christmas long despite the change of plans. Instead I felt like the weakest of all women, who desperately needed [and needs] God and my husband, who cried because I needed strength and grace, who sometimes lost patience with the grumpy children, who gets irritated by the constant coughing around here…

Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever learn. Ever learn the lessons God is wanting to teach me. Ever learn to just REST in His Sovereignty, even when His Sovereignty looks so different from what I was expecting.

[a lovely arrangement made by my friend Bethany, given for my birthday]

I might not have passed the Test of Christmas, Twenty-Ten, with flying colors, but I did come through it hanging onto Jesus with everything I am.

I might not pass the Tests of Twenty-Eleven with flying colors either.

But I want to walk through this year holding on to God with everything I am.
Just God.
Not expecting a lot of grand, huge things.

But wanting GOD.

That’s my heart for this new year…

-clarita

December 6, 2010March 20, 2013

Cyber-less and Pajama-clad

Lest you think I dropped off the face of the planet, well, I almost did.

A week with no internet in today’s cyber world feels like falling off the planet. :)

I actually kind of enjoyed it though. And was amazed at how much time I had! I read a whole book, and am partially through two others. That usually takes me a month. That was a rather sobering thought for me though, and now that I have the computer back I’m determined to gage my time better online… I want my children to remember me for fun things (reading books to them and me, baking, playing…), not for sitting in front of the computer…

But our computer got MORE viruses (yes, we did have anti-virus protection that we actually paid a lot of money for, thus all the more frustrating), and after a week I went in to receive an overhauled computer. I walked in, handed him an enormous wad of cash (he only takes cash, smart guy) and said, “Here’s our life savings.”

See, the week before when the computer got viruses, it was a simple matter. A hundred dollars, but still, simple. And I did back up alllllllmost all the pictures the very minute of opening the screen. Except a few. The few that wouldn’t fit on my memory stick. But I thought I at least had a week to get a new stick. Bad thought.

This is one of the pictures I would have lost, and it was just too much. So, you could say, this is my
$400 picture of Olivia at the Zoo.

[unedited, since I haven’t loaded that program back on yet]

Everyone probably wonders why I didn’t just let the pictures go into the lost world of cyber space, but this day at the zoo was just too fun. I’m too sentimental, I know, but the sight in my memory of a little girl toddling around with two little piggies, a monkey backpack (please don’t call it a leash), saying, “UH! GOOK (look)!!” all day was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.

And I could not bear for the actual pictures to be lost. I think I’ll learn my lesson now about backing pictures up… :(

So, that, and a week in Pennsylvania for Thanksgiving is why I seem to have vanished.

[Zoe seems to take nice photos… :)]

Today is a lazy morning… I woke up to a fire that my husband built in the living room before he left for work at 6AM (!!), and to me, that is one of the very nicest things he could ever do for me.

If you’d come to my door now (yes, it’s lunchtime) you’d think we all just woke up, because we’re still in jammies, every one of us girls. :) But that’s the fun of Mondays, right? :)

And after we get dressed, we’ll head out the door to the country and the Christmas tree place to gather greenery to finish up the Christmas decor… And I’m happy it’s actually COLD this week. There is something about 70 degree weather, barefeet, and open doors that don’t really feel that Christmas-y! :)

And a happy start to a week to you all! May Jesus walk with you through every moment…

~clarita

November 20, 2010March 20, 2013

A Child’s Vocabulary

This is a post that dwells on the delightfulness of my children. :) Little snippets of life over the past few weeks. It’s not all catastrophic. :)
Sometimes I have to remember that!

[the most colorful tree is all the county is in our front yard]

You know, there are some weeks where I look back at journal entries I’ve written about my children… and just smile to myself…

Such as this one from a few weeks ago:

“I am absolutely LOVING the stages right now with my girls. They play together so well most of the time… ” [!!!!]

And then the opposite not too many days later:

“Zoe’s question to me yesterday: ‘Why are you not happy, mommy?’ I had been impatient with her last night, and honestly, quite a bit yesterday. It my paint day to finish up some things, and she wanted to be omnipresent, right there all the time, sticking fingers into everything. I became easily frustrated. Thus was her comment to me after she asked the zillionth question of the day. I had also just said I had a headache, and she kept on talking… ‘Why do you have a hea-gache? Maybe you have a hea-gache because you weren’t nice to me. Sometimes *I* get hea-gaches when I’m not nice to people.’ I sat there wincing. Ouch, ouch, ouch…”

Children are ever so extremely convicting.

[most of the fall/autumn scape is only brown.]

And a few days later:

“And my girls… I am just having love fits over them! They’re soooo CUTE!! Yes, they do have their fighting episodes… but right now they’re both SINGING at the top of their lungs – madeup songs by Zoe, while Olivia belts along with her. Off-key, of course [Olivia], but precious as can be! Life is good, life is sweet. Very, very sweet.”

It’s the life of a mother…
Learning to run to Jesus at all moments –
the happy ones,
the ones that feel like we can’t make it through,
the ordinary moments,
the exciting moments.

It’s a good life. It’s a sweet life. Very, very sweet. :)

—————————————————————————————

The vocabulary of a three year old. It’s delightful.
It’s confusing.
It’s creative.
It keeps me laughing. :)

This was the “chump,” “ponk,” “tingernails,” and “little mommy” that my title says. Yes, I’m getting to it eventually! :)

According to Zoe’s usage of these words, here are the definitions:

“Chump” – to cut up in little pieces, or to flatten something with repeated motion
example: “I want to chump that egg in the pan.” [to flatten the yoke with tiny pricks]

“Ponk” – to poke at, to prod with a finger
“I ponked the kitty when I was outside.”

“Tingernails” – a combination of fingernails and toenails
“I want to paint my tingernails.” [hey, saves time smooshing them into one word!]

“Little Mommy” – her phrase when referring to or talking to me
         “Don’t worry, Little Mommy. I’ll take care of it!” [when I spilled chicken and juice all over the kitchen floor]
     or
          “Little Mommys, like you, really, really, really, love Jesus…” [she told me at naptime, and melted me in a puddle, because I feel like the past few weeks I’ve been an epic disaster as a mother. somehow she sees Jesus in all that?! it must be only God!]

“When I was big and you were little…”
After noticing a ruffly shirt I wore one day, “Ooooh, that’s sooooo cute! [pondering a moment] When I was big and you were little, I made that shirt for you!”

There are many times when she refers back to “when I was big and you were little”… There are times when we are almost worried about her living in an imaginary land, but you know what? She’s three, and she has a great imagination. If she’s 8, or 10, or 15, and still lives in an imaginary world, THEN I might be worried. But now, I just love the imagination. Hey, it keeps me laughing!

Her little baby doll is also part of the imaginary world. Or no, let me re-phrase that: her baby doll is actually part of the real world. Truly, her baby is so real to her, it tickles me to death…

One evening we were entertaining guests, and they wanted to look around the house a bit while dinner was being finished up. I suddenly heard Zoe’ just waaaaaaaiiiiiiiiilling and she can running full-tilt into my arms, sobbing so hard she could hardly talk. I finally got her to calm down and she told me, “My baby is sleeping in your bedroom, and there are people going in there and I don’t want her to wake up!!!!!!!”

And the other evening we were driving down the road with the kids. An exasperated Zoe’ handed her baby to me over the seat, saying, “She’s SOOOO WIGGLY!” :)

And after a great Sunday afternoon and evening at home, playing memory together, a fire in the fireplace, reading books, she prayed,

“Dear God,
thank you for this
very very very very very
SPLENDID day…”

Melt me in a puddle. That’s what really matters to a child.
Time. Love. Enjoyment of each other…

Zoe’s stack is the biggest. Yes, she won.
If you can call peeking-at-6-cards-during-one-turn winning. :)

She was quite pleased.
And I shan’t tell who those other respective stacks belonged to.
Because of all due respect, of course. :)

—————————————————————————————–

If I thought last week was falling down around my ears, this week was catastrophy.com. For those of you who have facebook, you may have seen my agitated and distraught post one day this week.

Monday morning started out with my camera sitting on the floor awaiting the weekend’s pictures to be uploaded to the computer. Olivia walked by, picked up the camera, and threw it on the hardwood floor. Cameras are no-no to begin with, and throwing cameras? Most definitely a no-no. It wasn’t until a few moments later that I realized my best camera lense was completely broken in half. It’s my 50mm lense. No, not professional, I’m not professional, but it’s my favorite one to use when I’m taking pictures. I went into the bathroom and locked the door before I said or did anything unkind to my semi-innocent 17 month old daughter! It seems as though the camera lense is ruined. I’m still going to check with a camera shop to make sure that they can’t repair it, but there are broken pieces and I’m very doubtful of recovery.

Monday night I was working on editing Christmas pictures on the computer. After I was finished, I turned off the computer for the night and went to bed. The next morning I turned the computer back on, and the wallpaper was different. I was going online to print out coupons before going shopping (yeah, trying to get back into that again!), and noticed all my favorites in my favorites tab were gone.

To remove several unneeded paragraphs, my computer looked wiped clean – everything from favorites to files to documents to pictures. It was unbelievable.

After calling Husband, we both agreed that a computer repair shop was in order. After running into the bathroom, shedding a few tears, and putting on my face, I immediately ran over to the smokiest, stinkiest, dirtiest computer shop in town. After describing to the tech what had happened, I told told him I need a miracle worker.

I awaited in great suspense throughout the next 24 hours until the much-longed-for phone call. I had approximately 80-90% of my pictures backed up, but nothing since August, which is really really bad. And no files backed up for the Bible Study I’m doing. I was thankful I had backed up as much as I had, but the remaining 20% was enough to send me for counseling if it wouldn’t be able to be recovered!!

Throughout the next day before the phone call, I kept talking to God about this…
Telling Him how sacred my pictures are to me. That other than people, they mean more to me than almost anything else because they hold so many memories. That I don’t want the last 3 months of my children’s lives to be lost just because I didn’t back up my pictures.

And also telling Him that I don’t want my pictures to be my idol. And that somehow, if He chooses to allow all those to be erased, that He will get me through it. Without a mental breakdown. He will still be good. Wow, how my heart was tested as I thought of all this, and pledged Him my love regardless.

And finally the call came. Talk about stomach-churning when I realized who the call was from. After great gulps of air, I talked to Mr. Smiley (really) and he told me the amazing news that everything was INTACT; what had happened was that our computer had gotten 2 viruses that had moved and hid all the files/documents/pictures, but everything was still there.

I could not get done voicing my gratitude. The dirtiest, smokiest, dingiest computer shop in town was also the most wonderful, in my opinion. I didn’t know how to thank him enough!

He could not get done exclaiming how many pictures I had. “You have an astronimal amount of photos on your computer!” he said on the phone. And when I picked up the computer, he told me I have the most pictures he’s ever seen on a computer.

Which really made me chuckle to myself, and think what a small town I must live in. And that he must never have worked on a real photographer’s computer, like Marylou’s. :) And that most people in this town really must not take a lot of pictures. Just really tickled me.

So, the first thing I did upon opening up my computer at home, was insert my memory card and SAVE ALL PICTURES. That’s right. I think I’m going to be OCD about that from now on. I do need to get another card, because I wasn’t able to get quite all of them on…

So that was my scare and my happiness for the week…

—————————————————————————————–

After my previous post of talking about mothing, I’d like to say thank you for the comments and support! I think there are so many intentional mothers in my life right now, and I can’t even describe how encouraging that is.

Sure, we ALL have our bad days, with babies playing in toilets, where the house looks like a hurricane hit it, where it seems children cannot get along – you name it! We’ve all got our own nerve-racker, I’m sure! But what I want to hear from other moms is not, “My kids are driving me crazy!!!” [even if we wonder if we are about to lose it sometimes.]

Rather, I want to hear an honest, yes, this may be a really bad day, and this is the hardest thing we’ve ever done, and I might have been crying over the plate of oatmeal that Olivia threw on the kitchen floor TWICE this morning, and the cup of coffee that she dumped over the jute rug in the living room yesterday,
[yes, some of last week’s catastrophes continue on]
but it’s also the most wonderful work we’ve ever been given,
and that we’re going to encourage each other and we’re going to make it.

[little charmer who is so precious and so naughty [without realizing it] these days…]

We’re going to stand together, we’re going to run to God for ourselves, and for each other. We may have days where we feel like we completely blow it as a mother, but we’re not going to end on that note. We’re going to get on our knees, beg God for fresh mercy and strength, and try again. These may be some of the more weary years of our lives, but we’re going to take a day at a time, or sometimes one moment at a time, and try to find joy and delight in these days.

I love to hear from older mothers, those women who have done this before, and are willing to take the time to encourage us younger moms. Women who are humble and yet strong enough to admit their mistakes, and share those with us so that we don’t have to make the same ones. Women who have families I would like to be like when I grow up :) and who are humble and yet strong enough to walk alongside of those just beginning their own families.

Sometimes I wonder why a Ph.D. isn’t required before one begins the career of a parent. Because truly, it is a 24/7 job like none other on the planet.

There is no getting off of work,
there is no calling in sick,
there is no vacation time stacked up,
there are no paid holidays.

It’s an always and forever job. And we have zero experience upon entering this career. Sure, we may have grown up in a family with a sibling or two or five or ten, which definitely cushions entering the field, and perhaps makes one feel more comfortable initially. But having a sibling, or being a nanny, or working in a child care center, is not even remotely like having your very own child.

But, I think the reason God allows us into it so green is so we seek Him above all else in raising our families. To where we don’t go to a manuel – we go to God. To where we don’t depend on logic – we depend on God. It really all comes back to God.

I read a book by Dan Allender a year or so ago, entitled, “How Children Raise Parents.” It sounds like a strange title but it’s an excellent book. His main point was that God uses children to point parents to God like nothing else can.

S. Gingerich said one time [not exact quote, but general idea], “Isn’t it crazy how a two-year old can get a full grown adult to completely lose their temper? How can a little child do that? Who really is the strong one in that situation?” Saying that most adults don’t know how to control themselves in the face of a child who needs discipline, much less control the child, and they’re respond in anger instead.

I’ve been there.

I look back at my initial theories of child-rearing as an older teenager and even as a young married women. “If they’re good, you kiss them! If they’re bad, you spank them!” Of course I had more ideals than that, but it was basically summed up in those two theories. Let me just say, I wasn’t into motherhood long before I realized this was something much bigger than me! Sometimes when a child is grouchy, what she needs is not a spanking, but a snack, or a nap, or a diaper change, or some tylenol, or a hug, or a story read, or….. I still haven’t exhausted the exception clauses.

But I still stick to my theory that when they’re good, you kiss them. :) And hug them, and love on them, and tell them how happy you are that they’re yours, and rub noses with them, and look in their eyes and say you’re proud of them.

So thank you, my own dear mother, my old friends from way back, my new friends from recent years, my online friends whom I’ve ever met but have been so encouraged from – you all bless me!! THANK YOU. Truly, we need each other. *I* need other women!

————————————————————————————–

And perhaps one of these days I’ll have a very short and sweet post again. :)

~clarita

November 8, 2010March 20, 2013

Weekend Sweetness

This was a truly beautiful weekend.

[mosquito-bitten feet in cozy slippers]

The first Saturday home as a family in two months.

[my latest read: The Scottish Chiefs]

The first fire in the fireplace.

[apparently not too far into my book.
and just in case these pictures speak “perfect day” let me just say this:
it was a truly beautiful day,
but
I had literally 5 minutes of time alone Sunday afternoon
in which everyone was napping at the same time
in which I documented it with pictures.
rare things mean picture documentation.
as much as I would like to say it was a3 hour stretch, I can’t say it was.]

A surprise package in the mail from a sister. ♥

Biscotti baking and pumpkin roll baking.

[my mantel-less living mantel, with teetering decor balancing on the edge]

Time change, which gave us an extra hour Sunday morning
[definitely a good thing. Sunday mornings can be rather harried here].

[this picture looks very strange to me.
yes, i’m in the south.
sweet tea,
woolly slippers,
and a fire in the fireplace, thank you.]

Happy little girls who were delighted with have several days with their daddy at home.

[headless child pausing a rare, brief instant to allow me snap a picture of her tights]

Ben’s parents and siblings at home that came for Sunday lunch of a Belizian meal.

Creative little minds who pretend they are making oatmeal on a Monday morning…

[little bed-heads whose mother failed to comb them]

I just want to re-live it again.

Please?

~clarita

September 10, 2010March 20, 2013

Dear Husband, Please Come Home

This is one day where, if it were possible, I would call Husband and ask if he could please come home from work at 10am, while I go and hibernate the rest of the day. Perhaps make the one hour drive to the nearest coffee shop and sit there. Maybe finishing my book, Cry, the Beloved Country and feeling like I’m really expanding my mommy brain. Something beyond child-training and husband/wife relationships. Which is good in its place, but somehow doesn’t feel very mind-stretching. I want to think outside of my world sometimes.

Not that I have a bad life. No, not at all. I really do love my life. Really.

But as we are all human beings, and as rather young human beings can be rather hard on a bit older human beings (read: children are unnerving mother), let’s just say that today is one of those days.

At the moment, life is quiet. Both girls are in bed for afternoon naps. I am sitting on the couch, still in pajamas (is that part of my problem, that I never truly started my day?), with a delicious broiled sandwich and a murky glass of lemonade. The murkiness is due to a certain 3-year old who was helping me in the kitchen one day during a baking project. And was mixing sugar into the flour container and flour into the sugar container. And as you well know, I’m sure, that sugar and flour are nigh to impossible to separate, I now have flour as well as sugar in my lemonade. Thus the reason for the murkiness.

This morning: not so quiet. The girls are beginning to have “sisterly competition,” to put it mildly. Let’s just say that big sister and little sister aren’t having such good days with each other, which can result in not-so-good days for mother as well. Little sister seems to be the main culprit, and loves to tease big sister to the point of tears. This morning was the occassion of many such tears. And at one point, having had enough, big sister pulled little sister off the couch by her feet, resulting in little sister landing squarely on her head, wailing loudly. Well, I would wail loudly too, if I were her.

I, the ever-wise mother (please read that very sarcastically) promptly rapped big sister on the head so she caught a small taste of what she did to little sister. Which was really a very bad idea, because then they were both wailing at the very same time. Well, I would wail loudly too, if my mother had just rapped me on the head. That was definitely not the love and tenderness of Jesus coming out just then.

And that was just a small glimpse of this morning.

Yesterday morning a bowl of cereal exploded in the kitchen, after someone accidentally dropped the honey bear into it from 2 feet above. I thanked the Lord that Zoe had vehemently requested a PLASTIC cereal bowl that morning, or else we would have shattered glass amongst the milk and granola that had landed up to 8 feet above the floor level, and spread in a 8 foot radius around my previously sparkling kitchen. Oh, and landing in my hair and eyebrows and face.

Oh, and did I mention the someone was not my daughter? No, it was, in fact, myself.

This house is full of imperfect people today.

I’m just so glad my PERFECT husband is coming home in a few hours! And will be home for the weekend!

Dear Husband, I’m so glad you’re the kind of man that I know will always come home to us…

And yet, in the midst of days that seem like “bad days” like this, I’m reminded of how precious life is, the lives of children who can have me so exasperated one moment and laughing the next.

With living across the street from the best children’s park in town, both of the girls frequently ask to go and play there. Well, Olivia points and jabbers incoherently. But they both love to go.

On Saturday, when I was outside with both of them, Zoe frantically yelled at me, “OLIVIA’S ON THE ROAD!!!” I look over from working in the flower beds not far away to see her completely crossing the street BEFORE MY VERY EYES.

I raced over to her, as fast as my legs in go in a dream-like state, where you want to run so badly but just can’t quite go fast enough, and scooped her up. Holding her tight as I could. Realizing that on our street, with a lot of fast through-traffic, I might not have ever held her again if…. Heart pounding. Mind racing.

I had nightmares all night and weekend about that incident. Waking up and seeing visions of things that didn’t happen, but could have happened. Realizing that on Sunday, instead of having people over for lunch as planned, we could have been planning a funeral. Sounds terribly morbid, I know, but I would wake up with a jerk thinking of what could have happened…

And I’m reminded once again of God’s Sovereignty, and am so thankful that He protected the life of our little girl. He would not have had to, but He did. And I am so grateful…

So today, I’m reminded of how sacred it is to hold them in my arms and rock them, singing lullabyes… Even though some days it feels like all we do is climb walls and write on white pillows with pencils and colored chalk. Today is sacred.

Even so, Dear Husband, I can’t wait until you come home…

~clarita

August 16, 2010March 20, 2013

Celebrating 5

Wow, it’s been a good past couple of weeks.

-Celebrating our 5th wedding anniversary (this was more like 2 months ago!).

– A 10-day trip back home (I still think of Pennsylvania as “home,” even though Georgia is “home” to me too. But Pennsylvania is “back home.”). Just so great. I came back feeling so blessed and overwhelmed by the family and friendships God has given me. It’s not a matter of if I have family and friends to see when I go back, but rather how much time I have to see people – which is never enough, and there are always people I wish I could have seen that I wasn’t able to, and the people I did see I wished to have seen more of.

– Celebrating my husband’s 30th birthday! This is what really made my weeks fly by, because I felt like I was planning his birthday for months! Maybe more on this at a later date.

– Olivia is walking! It took her a while to discover she really could do this, but now she is toddling all over the house. I love the word “toddle.” It sums up wobbly baby legs, balance challenges, and baby grins all in one. And lots of bumps and bruises. Don’t forget those.

It’s been a busy but happy time. This morning I thought to myself, “I am just so happy to be alive today.”

Part of that had to do with the fact that my girls slept in until 9:30 (!!!!), and I was able to have a few HOURS (hours, not minutes) alone before they awoke. That definitely is a reason to be happy. :) [And I wish I knew what I did right, so that they could sleep in again like that!]

And then, because I had some time alone with my God, I felt ready to greet them. Happily greet them, as I heard little feet pattering on the hardwood floor. Ready to greet them with long hugs and snuggles, and say, “I’m so happy to see you!” and really mean it, rather than thinking, “Oh, why did you get up so early today??!” :)

And now, at 2pm, they are just recently gone to bed because of sleeping in so late. And I have a bit of quiet once again… I love quiet.

_____________________________________

But now, here’s to celebrating 5 years of being married!

The Man.

The Lady.

This post is looking back over the past 8 years. Remembering when the love first began between Ben and me. This is going to be a nutshell version of a very veeeeery long story. :)

I was 19 when I first met him. He was hardly 22.

I was independent, loved being single, and wanted to be single until I was 30 because I loved where I was at so much. Marriage was NO WHERE in my near future.

However, I was fascinated by his crystal-blue eyes, easy-going personality, and slow southern drawl. He first noticed my curly hair and long eyelashes. :)

We had never met before, but were thrown together in a group of about 60 Bible School students for 7 weeks. We interacted, became friends, but he was seeing another girl at the time and I thought that was that.

Meanwhile, I was mapping out my next five years,which included mission trips to Africa, Colorado, Asia, as well as furthering my education. And was I ever excited. However, God started speaking to my heart and softly telling me not to view marriage so adamently. Asking me to surrender my dreams for the future, and to trust His plans, even if they were different from my own. This was such a difficult thing for me, because I really did not want to get married soon at all. But my answer to God, through much wrestling and struggle, was, “Yes, Jesus, I will do what you want me to do, whatever that is.”

Several months later, Ben asked my dad if he could date me, and after a few months of dad com municating with Ben, Ben and I had som contact through phone calls and emails. This is a really reeeeeaaaallly long story, one that I’m not going to go into detail now, but after some months my answer to Ben was “no.” Interestingly though, my heart was opening to the idea of romance , and even of marriage sometime in the future! Even though I did not think this would include Ben.

We parted ways, heartbreaking to both of us because of our friendship, but my heart was not ready for him. Over the next year, I dated another man, thinking Ben was a person of the past, and excited about where God was taking me.

But for unknown reasons, God did not give me rest with staying in that relationship. It was mysterious to me, and had nothing to do with the man himself but only the way God was leading me.

Heartbreak again. I wanted to make a vow of celebacy for the next two years just so I wouldn’t have to even think about love again! My parents refrained me, much to my (then) chagrin. They did allow me to make a 6-month commitment. Looking back, I think they really wanted me to get married! Ha!

Shortly after that, I spent two months in Central America with my sister, Jana, and two friends. Antigua, Guatemala, was where we studied Spanish, and central point from which traveled all over the country! Great times!

During those months in Central America, my heart was strangely drawn to Ben again. Wondering why, wondering how, but my heart was restful that if God had something for us in the future He would bring it to pass.

Ben asked again, brave man. And this time, almost two years after we first met, we began dating. This time my heart was ready for him, and delighted to be entering a journey alongside him!

I was 21, he was 23.

We dated long-distance of 800 miles, seeing each other about once a month for a weekend. He shocked me when proposing after only 8 months of dating, but my answer was “Yes!” Our engagement was 5 months long, two months of which I was away from home living with my widowed grandmother in Florida and then on a mission trip to Africa.

[In Africa on a mission trip, 3 months before our wedding. So neat that we were both able to go!]

Funny FUNNY looking back at these pictures! Makes me laugh, like, did we really both change so much?!

[He joined my extended family campout while we were dating.]

I was 22 when we wedded, he was 24. Such a happy happy day…

[working on our first house, tearing wallpaper off…]

And now, it’s five years later. A lot has happened in those five years. We lived in Pennsylvania, we moved to Georgia, Ben and I taught school, we had a baby girl, Ben taught another year of school, I had another baby girl…

And before we were married, people would talk about the work that it takes to have a good marriage. I would listen and politely nod, but think to myself, “They must not have the kind of relationship that WE have!” Five years later, I can honestly say that a good marriage DOES take work – hard work, and lots of it.

It’s been a wonderful, crazy, mysterious, fun, scary, beautiful, frustrating, amazing journey together! There are challenges we’ve faced that I never would have imagined, yet glad that I didn’t know about beforehand. This journey together is one that I wouldn’t trade for the world, and yet one that makes me need God more than anything in the world. This is a sacred journey, one of commiting my life to one man, until death do us part.

Because it’s in that covenant that God is revealed. We don’t bail out when it’s tough. We’re in it together, thick or thin. Easy days, fun days, hard days. We’re in this for life, and we’re going to give it our best shot. We’re going to love each other, forever…

Really cool/funny thing about this photo shoot a few weeks ago: It was taken very impromptu after a day at the beach, and my sister Claudia Barkman took the pictures. She overheard an older couple talking as they walked by. “Wedding?” asked the man [did he not see the BROWN dress?]. “No, engagement,” said the woman. We had a laugh about that later. And thought, “Awwww, we still look like we’re engaged!” while wondering what the couple thought about the two babies playing in the foreground…! :)

I’m the lucky woman who gets to be with this man!