Sweet Baby Morning

Sarah Kate got to come to Mommy's bed early this morning after a fitful cough. She slept soundly after that--a nice surprise since she often sits up in my bed and invites me to play . . . at 3:30 a.m.! And that snotty breathing was a peaceful companion since David was working.

Later in the morning, I sat in my brown chair, reading, when I heard, "Mommy, come lay for me!" (We have some issues with prepositions.) How can I resist that? I snuggled up next to my baby girl. She sweetly stared into my eyes for the longest time, smiling. We both seemed to soak up this moment, knowing there are not enough of these kind in our lives. This moment where there is nothing pressing, nowhere to go, no one or nothing else in the whole world has our attention. It is simply mother and child.

She giggled after a bit. I had to tickle her. She giggled some more. Then, she had a plan. "Let's wake up, Mommy! I want some breakfast!" How did my 10 pound angle grow into a little kid who can tell me exactly what she wants? It's nice that both of my children can now articulate their needs. I don't miss the days of incoherent crying (not much anyway). We also engaged in a banter over her name. I have labeled her "Sweet Baby." She will accept nothing except "Sarah Kate" (or one of the 15 variations we have of that double-name) or "Sweet Baby." I try "stinky poo", "big girl", "silly willy." She corrects me seriously and sternly: "I Sarah Kate Smef" or "I not stinky poo; I Sweet Baby!" May I declare now that my Sweet Baby has my heart?!

So, we headed to the kitchen to fix "honey nuts" for Sarah Kate, oatmeal for me (down, cholesterol, down!). This picture is from our little date. She ate her cereal, commenting from time-to-time, "watch this, Mommy!" A little trick she learned from her big sister. You yell, "watch this!" and then do something very non-impressive like squint your eyes or hold your spoon in the air. What is often an annoying routine became entertaining. I tried to make her feel like each move she made was fascinating. Because it was. She is mine. A gift from the Creator. So precious. I am thankful I had a morning to enjoy her in all of her two-ness.

Claire on Marriage

My baby sister accepted the proposal of a wonderful man tonight. Happy doesn't quite describe my feelings. Now comes the fun stuff--a dress, candles, and lots of giggles!!

Claire's eyes began to sparkle the minute she heard that Sissy (a.k.a. Jessica) and Maffew (a.k.a. Matthew) were getting married. In her mind, a wedding is when two people dance. She is always requesting that we marry, which means she dresses up like a princess and we dance to slow music. Her questions:

• Are they getting married tonight?
• Can we watch them get weddinged?
• Why will he be "Uncle Maffew"?

So, here's to Sissy and Maffew! May God bless you in the coming months as you plan your wedding, and in the coming years as you grow in love and in His grace!

ME-member

Sometimes I think I have to have something amazing to say here. But I think it is important to write a few random moments of normalcy for me to remember. I will call it my ME-member list.

ME-member:

• Claire wanted to send her "Get Well" card to the nurse at home (nursing home).
• Before leaving for school yesterday, Sarah Kate looked at me very seriously and said, "I look pretty." How can you not agree with that? The new addition to her wardrobe that morning: a cheap plastic headband. Made her day!
• Claire had her first "no one wants to be my friend" moment. It was totally her fault. She's bossy. She pouted, fussed, yelled at me because she was hurt. Then she drew her "she's not my friend anymore" Kaylie a beautiful picture of them being friends. Four-year-old friendships are beautiful!
• I'm terrified today of the many times I will have to lovingly counsel my head-strong child on the intricacies of friendship.
  
• When Sarah Kate gets mad, she shuffles her hands, looks down, then starts subtly kicking. Last night at dinner she got mad after being corrected for some minor infraction. I asked her, "do you need to sit on the green rug?" (our official cool-down/time-out spot). She looked at me and said, "yes." She got down and sat for about 3 or 4 minutes, then came back to the table. "I sorry, Mommy."
• I love her correctability (I know that's not a word, but it should be). She struggles with shame over breaking rules, much like her Mommy. I think that's why she tucks her chin and starts her little angry dance. But her heart turns so completely. Her instructions are to sit until her attitude changes and she's ready to apologize. She gets to set her own time. And she will sit there as long as it takes to cool down and steer her will back in line. She comes back to me, contrite. "Sorry, Mommy. Yes mam." Even if that "yes mam" is not appropriate, she does it anyway. That seems to be her 2-year-old way of communicating submission. It humbles me every time. That is how beautiful and raw my own confession and submission to my Lord should be. "Sorry, Lord. Yes Sir."
• We are done with diapers. I can't get Sarah Kate to wear the last one (she still has not conquered the nights). So, I have one diaper left. I don't know how I feel about that. I've been waiting for this moment for 4 years and 8 months. But, I'm a little sad. I don't have a baby anymore.

I'll leave it at that. If I travel much further on that train [of thought], I might just wake my snoring hubby!

(I wish I had taken a picture of them today!)

Exodus 3

I love that the Word of God is living and breathing. The things you've read over and over can all of a sudden become new and fresh. Today, Exodus 3 came to me new and fresh.

Moses is going about his day, rather mundane and normal. Then he spots the bush. Had he said, "I don't have time," or ran away out of fear, history would be changed. But, Moses took a moment to step out of the normalcy into the holy--shoes off, mind you.

"I must go over and see this!" Once Moses notices this act of wonder, God calls him by name. This event is intended for him. First, he had to notice the bush and turn away from his routine. Then he met God.

How many times in my day do I rush past a burning bush? Does God place "WOW!" in front of me while I run through my life with my eyes closed? Moments with my children, encounters with my patients, worship with the body of Christ, a sad stranger, the sunrise outside my window. If I stopped, turned aside from my rushed routine, would I hear him call my name? "Kelly! Kelly!"

A holy encounter with my God awaits me today. What will it be? Will I see and turn to it? Will I hear my name? Will I respond, "Here I am?" Open my eyes, oh Lord, to the burning bush you have for me today!

Precious Moments

I've included a few "everyday" pictures from our day off (MLK Day). They seemed pretty ho-hum when I took them. We had a little snow. David took the kids out. We spent most of the day in our pj's (or "jamas" as we call them at our house).

Then, today, those normal moments became a little more precious to me. When I went to school to get the girls for their dentist appointments, a teacher ran down the hall with a lifeless child in her arms.

She was frantic, "he's not breathing! He's not breathing!"

Claire's teacher assured me everyone was certified in CPR. Being the [nosy] health care worker that I am, I checked in on them a few minutes later to see if they needed any help. The little boy had most likely experienced a febrile seizure. He had stopped breathing in the classroom. The hero-teacher gave him rescue breaths, then ran to the office to call 9-1-1 when he started breathing again. I provided a little assistance in the way of vitals, positioning, and a "medical" presence. These ladies did an excellent job of managing the situation. I simply affirmed that they were following appropriate procedure. He was not yet responsive when the paramedics arrived. Breathing, heart beating, but not awake.

The sweet angel is doing OK, last I heard. I stopped in to commend the director and his teacher that they did an excellent job. His teacher saved his life today.

I couldn't escape the image of his little body dangling from her arms. Two classrooms down, my own blond-headed angel slept on her cot, cuddled in her pink blanket. What protects me from that dreaded call from daycare? "Your child is unresponsive; she has been taken to the ER!" Thank you, GOD, that it wasn't my child! How terrible I feel to pray that, but it's the honest cry of my heart. I am so thankful mine made it through today. . .

. . . Thankful for our last lazy day of cinnamon rolls, hot chocolate, and indoor balloon tennis. What if that was the last day we spent together as a family? Did I spend enough quality time with my kids? Did they know I loved them that day?

And what about today? Were my stern words too much? My patience too short? How many kisses did I give them? Not enough, I'm sure.

I am so sorry that little Carson had to go through that today. I'm sorry his teacher had to breath life back into him. I feel heartache for the mom who picked up her phone at 11:38 to hear that her son was so sick. Thanks be to my Perfecter who allowed me to be a part of that moment. It has given me added appreciation for the time I spend with my kids!

They are both sleeping; I think I will go check on them . . . one more time.

Claire LOVES the snow! I love how expressive her face gets! She can say a hundred words with one look. She can also say a hundred words in about one minute!!

One quick "she's growing up" moment:
"If I can just learn to handle these tangles, I can brush my own hair!"
(And, yes, that is a shiner on her left eye! She had a run-in with her bed rail.)

Slow Down, Mommy!

I am usually in a hurry. Hurry and get ready for work/school. Hurry and eat. Hurry in the tub. Let's hurry through this story. There is always more to do and not enough time to do it. The baby put it all in perspective for me today. We were trying to collect all of our things and family members after church, in a hurry, of course. This dialogue follows:

Me: "Come on, Sarah Kate! Keep moving down the steps. I still have to get the food out of our Sunday School room."

SK: "Slow down, Mommy! Slow down!" (with a knowing grin on her face, by the way)

OUCH!! She's two, but I think she has the right idea. Especially on this one day of the week that we have to re-focus and center our hearts and minds on our Creator. I think God had the voice of my child today. He says to me, "SLOW DOWN!" Enjoy your children. Watch for moments of grace and glory. Savor the time you have with your husband. Slow down, sit at My feet for a moment. I have so much to share with you. If you'd only take the time to BE where you are instead of always looking ahead to where you are going.

Thank you, Katie-bug, for speaking the truth in love. I'll slow down for you, baby girl!

It's Been a While (understatement)

After visiting insightful blogs from a few friends, I decided to visit my own. It made me smile to see my girls last spring. My how they have grown. Since the scrapbook paper and photographs sit securely in my craft-cabinet, this is my only record of the memories I'm too busy to remember. How will I remember the chocolate chips on the floor if I don't write it down?

Life is way too fast to file away those sweet moments you vow to never forget. My children are a precious treasure to me. Although this phase in life (4 1/2 and 2) often feels chaotic and insane, I'm sure I will look back longingly at the years of, "Mommy, rub my back," "read to me," "no! I do it my by-self!"

Here's to more updates. Not for anyone else, so much, as for ME!