Kids and black keys

A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words - the right amount of fancy



What Grace Is Mine

~ Keith & Kristyn Getty

What grace is mine that He who dwells in endless light

Called through the night to find my distant soul

And from his scars poured mercy that would plead for me

That I might live and in his name be known

So I will go wherever He is calling me

I lose my life to find my life in Him

I give my all to gain the hope that never dies

I bow my heart, take up my cross and follow Him

 

What grace is mine to know His breath alive in me

Beneath his wings my wakened soul may soar

All fear can flee for death's dark night is overcome

My Saviour lives and reigns forevermore

So I will go...

Winter Wonderland

'Tis the season to be still.  'Tis the season to make fires.

'Tis the season of good will.  Charity the heart's desire.

I close my eyes, and return to my first snow.

The sky is white on this Christmas night, and I have no place to go.

It feels like my first snow.

'Tis the season to prepare, warm and sweet delicious things.

'Tis the season to repair, all our silly bickerings.

I close my eyes, and return to my first snow.

 The sky is white on this Christmas night, and I have no place to go.

I close my eyes, and return to my first snow.

The sky is white on this Christmas night, and I have no place to go.

It feels like my first snow.

"My First Snow"

Matt Morris

A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words - Baby it's cold outside



All I want for Christmas



Ah, Mariah.  Come Christmastime, I long to hear her breathy low notes as she propels her listeners into a joyfully upbeat version of "All I Want For Christmas" (much to my husband's chagrin).  It is one of my absolute favorite holiday tracks to play (loudly) and sing along to in our van as we travel about town.  Not surprisingly, this year our sweet ones have joined me in my slight musical obsession, crying out "Louder!" from the back of the van as they bee bop and scat their way through the chorus.  The doctor has requested that we limit the listening of this magical tune to the confines of our van. Apparently, it is a favorite among OR nurses and is played on heavy rotation.  However, being the gracious and loving husband he is, he recently purchased Michael Buble's version of the song, one that is less pop and more swoon.  All in all, one that is more tolerable.  

'Tis the season for creating lists, and waiting in hopeful anticipation for a certain package to find its way under the tree.  For my husband, I believe this year all he wanted for Christmas was the gift of passing his written boards.  And, yesterday as though a 100 pound weight had been lifted from his shoulders, he entered our apartment with the joyful news that he had passed.  It was an evening filled with waves of relief, sweet celebratory exchanges, and thanksgiving for he (at last) had his scores. 

I continue to marvel over the Lord's perfect timing in revealing this precious gift to us.  We enter this Christmas season with hearts full, acknowledging the Lord's faithful direction of our lives. 
 A very merry Christmas, indeed!

A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words - Season's Greetings 2011



The video we cannot stop watching...

Recipe for art

While playing in the family activity room at the Shaker Library this summer, the little lady stumbled upon the ever changing art table.  On this particular day, the children were creating art by dipping tennis balls in paint and then rolling them across paper that was contained in a cardboard box.  I fancied the idea; however,  recognized that if we were to recreate this fun activity within our own home it would need slight tweaking.  The idea of the little man rolling a painted tennis ball around in a cardboard box had "must have magic eraser on hand" written all over it.  And, so this idea was born.

Cast of characters:

washable paint, large Clorox/Lysol dispenser (empty and dried), blank paper, scissors (to cut paper to size), rubber ball (or any small ball), droopy poinsettia plant (optional)

1. Wrangle up a kid or two.

(Hopefully, one who appreciates the art of dressing oneself in layers and fine jewelry. Or, one that prefers to go through life shirtless.)

2. Insert paper so that it follows the natural curve of the dispenser.

3. Dip ball in paint colors. 

In all honestly, there might be a better way to execute this step as this way creates a bit of a mess, but we just went with it.  Having paper towels on hand wouldn't be the worst idea in the world.

4. Place the lid on (firmly) and give it a good shake, perhaps while singing a lil' ditty.

5. Remove lid and paper.  Marvel over artwork.

6.  Repeat.


7. Allow to dry, and place in envelopes addressed to grandparents. 
(One can only save so many beautiful pieces of art.)

As good as they come

Every now and then a weekend comes along that is as close to familial perfection as they come.   The moments shared as idyllic as an iconic Norman Rockwell painting.   For us, this past weekend was filled with memorable holiday activities that put us in a mood that could only be described as merry and bright (with just a smattering of impatience, back-talk, and whining.)  Jeff was on call; however, his pager did not make even the slightest of beeps, our first Christmas miracle of the season. 

Saturday morning started off with a bang as we enjoyed breakfast with Santa at one of our favorite local restaurants.  The fact that the place was not swarming with children, allowed us to enjoy our meal while our sweet ones minded their manners and chatted it up with the Jolly One (Christmas miracle #2).  

The little lady was not interested in taking her picture with the Jolly Bearded One, choosing to pose with her daddy instead.  She was; however, willing to accept the candy canes he was passing out before making our way to The Shaker Square Cinema, which was showing Christmas cartoons on continuous feed throughout the morning.  We were excited to introduce our children to the magic of movie theaters (free of cost).  The little lady found the bucket seats more than she could bear and found comfort in my lap, while the little man reclined in his like a true man, rolling his head back in laughter as the cartoons played on the big screen.

And, in my world the perfect weekend also includes a little bit of productivity.  It was all hands on deck as we covered our drafty windows with plastic in an effort to lower our outrageous electric bill.   We have yet to live in a house with proper windows; it appears that the seasonal covering of windows is becoming a Larson tradition.

Just before naps, the little ones and I enjoyed frosting and decorating Christmas cookies. The irony of placing large quantities of sugar in front of our children right before naps does not elude me.  Thankfully, the gobs of green frosting did not prevent them from cashing out all afternoon. (Christmas miracle #3) 

Saturday evening we attended Parkside's annual Christmas concert.  Jeff and I were especially looking forward to the concert as we have not attended an evening Christmas service since having children.  We thought the little lady would enjoy sitting with us with her love of music; however, the overcrowded sanctuary and noise level seemed to intimidate her and she opted to spend her evening in "high school" (aka her Sunday school classroom).  The night was filled with spectacular music as the large choir and orchestra filled the sanctuary with inspiring and uplifting choruses proclaiming the good news of the season. 


Sunday morning we returned to church, followed by a light lunch of corn chowder.  The little lady and man were clearly overtired, and quickly settled into naps.  I ventured out for a few errands, and enjoyed driving about town in a quiet and peaceful van.  I returned home to the Packer game blaring and quickly joined my crew in cheering on our beloved Aaron Rodgers.   That evening we shared a pizza dinner with our friend, Laura and her adorable daughter Ruthie,  who we have enjoyed getting to know this year.  Laura is also a fellow at the Cleveland Clinic, and Jeff and I enjoy looking for opportunities to encourage Laura and her daughter while her husband (also a doctor) finishes his naval tour of duty.  Spending time with them always reminds me how blessed I am to have a husband who returns home each day to care for me and our children.  

I'm so thankful for the rest and refreshment that comes from the weekends, especially weekends such as these. 

As it gets chilly

Temperatures have turned frigid, and as a result we find ourselves huddled inside the apartment looking for fun and creative ways to spend our time.  Lucky for me, the little lady is full of ideas and the little man is a willing participant in most of her schemes. 

Getting crafty. 

Hibernating.

Playing school.

(There is a new teacher in town; it appears that I am officially retired.)

Assembling a killer look.



A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words - Shrinky Dinks



Here With Us

For so many, this is truly the most wonderful time of the year.  I would say this rings true for our household with the NCAA college basketball tournament coming in a close second.  This morning as I look out our window taking in the beauty of freshly fallen snow against a grey sky, my heart stirs as I reflect on all that is beautiful about this season.  It is a season defined by mystery and awe, twinkling lights, ribbons long, packages pretty; a season of thoughtful giving, joyful receiving, gathering, preparing, waiting and anticipation. 

As our children grow and their understanding of Christmas develops, we find ourselves embracing the spirit of the season through their eyes.  Each strand of light hung calls for celebration, each tree decorated deserves pause and appreciation, holiday music blares loudly as our bodies move to and fro celebrating each drum beat, bell and chorus.  More importantly, as they grow we find ourselves considering the many traditions of the season, and as parents we are deciding which ones we will highlight and embrace as our own.  This year, more than ever, my heart swells as I look into the eyes of our sweet ones and desire above all things for them to know deeply the profound miracle of Christmas, its meaning, and significance.  How the gift of a baby born in a lowly manger is beyond any perfectly wrapped box they will discover under the tree.  How even the brightest and most intricate display of Christmas lights would seem insignificant compared to that of the heavenly host proclaiming the Savior's birth in the night sky.  How the adventure of driving across state lines bound for Wisconsin is nothing compared to the journey of wise men following star bright.  How the faith, obedience and humility of a young couple resulted in the greatest gift ever given, a baby born to save the souls of men. 


It's still a mystery to me

That the hands of God could be so small,
How tiny fingers reaching in the night
Were the very hands that measured the sky



Hallelujah, hallelujah
Heaven's love reaching down to save the world
Hallelujah, hallelujah
Son of God, Servant King,
You're here with us
You're here with us


It's still a mystery to me, oh,
How His infant eyes have seen the dawn of time
How His ears have heard an angel's symphony,
But still Mary had to rock her Savior to sleep


Hallelujah, hallelujah
Heaven's love reaching down to save the world
Hallelujah, hallelujah
Son of God, Servant King
Here with us
You're here with us

Jesus the Christ, born in Bethlehem
A baby born to save, to save the souls of man
Hallelujah, hallelujah
Heaven's love reaching down to save the world
Hallelujah, hallelujah
Son of God, Servant King
You're here with us
You're here with us

sung by Joy Williams

Wise Words

A gentle reminder to live life in the moment.

Shaker Heights welcomes St. Nick

After bailing on a holiday party this past weekend that promised lunch, Santa, and presents (purchased by parents to be delivered by the jolly bearded one), Jeff and I decided that St. Nick's would be the perfect occasion for our sweet ones to receive their fifteen dollar presents.   In seasons past, the 6th of December came and went without the successful purchase of a small present to help ring in the season, so I was looking forward to what I hope will now become a yearly tradition.

As the children soaked in a bath full of bubbles, excitement mounted as Jeff enthusiastically retold the story of St. Nick and playfully questioned his impending arrival.  With their presents in place, and a quick jingle of bells the little lady and man were escorted to their room to get into their pj's.  As I listened to their anxious chatter, I could not help but smile as I awaited their joyful entry into the living room. I'm not sure who was more excited, the children experiencing their very first St. Nick's or Jeff and I as we encouraged and fueled the mystery and magic of the season.

The little lady was delighted to receive her very own mini Christmas tree with decorations, something she had been requesting since eyeing a friend's.  With each ornament that was carefully hung, her smile grew.  

The little man was very pleased to receive a toy ATM with an assortment of noise producing buttons to push. (I may already have buyer's remorse.) He is a button pusher that one.  He enjoyed swiping his tiny ATM card for all of five minutes until he dropped the minature card into the wrong slot, trapping it in the locked safe.  Thankfully, I was able to pry open the safe once he was comforted and put to bed.  

From playing secret Santa to successful bank robber, my night was filled with many memorable moments to cherish. 



'Tis the season

for The Polar Express 

Since renting this fanciful and adventurous tale three weeks ago, the little man requests to watch it and it alone morning, noon and night.  If left to his own devices, I believe he would view it continuously stopping only to rehydrate, feed, and sleep. 

Simply mesmerizing.

And, while he gazes on, the little lady prances about singing along to each song, repeating dramatic dialogue and interrupting the action with a constant stream of questions, which you would think after three consecutive weeks of viewing she would know the answers to.

All aboard!