A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words - smitten with my kitchen

(Two) Spoonfuls of sugar

This morning I woke with a sinus headache and stuffed nose, that by mid-morning had turned into a constant drip.  Having a drippy nose is not at all compatible with being a hands-on mother.  It is difficult to contain one's germs, between the obnoxious fits of sneezing, blowing, and wiping, when equally germy (but precious) hands are pawing at you all day. 

By early afternoon, with nose raw and red ("What happened?" said the little man with scrunched face of concern) I had had enough.  Sensing I was on the edge, the little lady offered me the following advice.  "Mommy, why don't you lie down on the couch and rest.  That is the only way your nose will stop hurting."  For a moment I hesitated thinking of the looming dinner hour; however, the couch was calling my name, and it would have been a shame to disappoint the lil' lady.  So, with our sweet ones content at the table, I laid my head down momentarily to rest.  And, that is when I heard the following exchange. 

Little lady - "Joey, you need to be quiet so my mother can rest."

Little man - "Oh...OK!"

Little lady - "Mom, you just need to get cozy.  I will make you a picture, so you will feel better."

Within minutes, the little man had brought over one of my many devotional books, and propped it by my head.  He then very lovingly covered me with his two favorite blankets, and tossed on his beloved giraffe just for good measure.  I was then presented with my artwork.   

My rest period lasted all of five minutes, but it was just what the doctor ordered for my weary body, mind and spirit.

Still, My Soul Be Still

Still my soul be still

And do not fear

Though winds of change may rage tomorrow

God is at your side

No longer dread

The fires of unexpected sorrow

God You are my God

And I will trust in You and not be shaken

Lord of peace renew

A steadfast spirit within me

To rest in You alone

Still my soul be still

Do not be moved

By lesser lights and fleeting shadows

Hold onto His ways

With shield of faith

Against temptations flaming arrows

Still my soul be still

Do not forsake

The Truth you learned in the beginning

Wait upon the Lord

And hope will rise

As stars appear when day is dimming

- Keith and Kristyn Getty

A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words - meeting of the minds



Second born

Well, the inevitable has happened.  After uploading our latest flip camera videos onto the computer, the husband noticed a significant gap in film footage - like six or seven months missing. 

Husband - "What do you think happened?"

me - (busy cleaning kitchen) "Um...life?"

Husband - "Does it make you sad that six months of Joey's life have not been documented?" (spoken with an edge of sarcasm)

me - (scrubbing a tad more aggressively) "Yes.  It had occurred to me that I had not been filming as many things."

Husband - "Well, OK."

Note to self.  Locate flip video camera.  Immediately.

It is true.  We have failed  to capture our son's every move, our second born, the very one who will carry on the Larson name.  Long ago, I stopped printing pictures, attempting to maintain current photo albums for each of our children.  But when I look to the shelves that hold the evidence of projects started and abandoned, there is the proof - her five albums to his one.  One, that is not. even. half. full.  Our flip camera library contains video after sweet video of the little lady's life, each giggle, squirm, hiccup, nap, and milestone.  The amount of hours Jeff and I spent just starring at our dark-eyed beauty alone might number in the, oh...I don't know...hundreds. 

 Older and wiser parents caution you that it will happen.  They joke that with each consecutive child born, less pictures are snapped, less video recorded.  However, deep down you baulk at their warnings, knowing that surely you would never let that happen to your child, no matter what their birth order. But alas, here we are, only two children in and already we have shown first born pictorial favoritism.  I'm guessing Joe is not the first child to fall victim to milestone chronicling failures.  It makes me wonder how many photo albums the Duggar family has lying (or not lying) around.

When your second child comes along so much of their precious life is wrapped up in the life of their older sibling.  You attempt to separate their moments, but unavoidably their moments blend together, creating a harmony and chemistry that is uniquely theirs.  You do not intentionally reach for your camera less, your hands are just busier now, holding not one but two tiny hands.  Your first priority is not capturing an image, but living in the moment. 

My dear little man,

Forgive me for not reaching for the video camera all those many months.  In all honesty, I believe it was your beautiful, bright eyes that captivated me, causing me to forget.  You have been my constant companion since your birth, where I am, you are.  I have studied your face, each curve, each expression.  Your sweet song-like voice is one I know well, and will never forget.  Please know that while your sister's big personality has been featured in countless family videos, you are in no way a wall flower.  Each day you surprise us with your humor, animated expressions, curiosity, playful manner, and dynamic display of emotions.  You probably know this by now, but you have a very special and prominent place in my heart.  You need me, and I, you.  Because of you, Charlotte's life was forever changed.  You are her best friend, cheerleader, playmate, and confidant.  You balance our family in so many ways.  And, lest you think we threw away our video camera upon your arrival, please know there are many precious videos capturing your growth.  Just remember it's quality over quantity.

From this day forward, I will make every effort to pull out the camera more, because you are really something, and it would be a shame to miss six more months of your growth.   And, just to get things started off on the right foot - proof that I really do take pictures of just you every once in awhile.

I and love and you.



A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words - just because



Prediction

On my way out of the classroom this morning, one of the little lady's teachers smiled and told me, "Charlotte is so expressive; I see musical theater in her future."  I smiled back thinking, "You see it, too?"



As a mother, there are few things more encouraging and comforting than knowing someone (outside of your immediate family) "gets your child." That they see your beautiful babe for the precious and unique individual they were created to be.  That they are sympathetic to the particulars that can make or break your child's day.  That they marvel, in the same way you do, over little achievements unique to their developing and maturing mind.  That they accept your child's natural speaking voice is loud, and are eager to hear each amplified word that is spoken.  That they understand your child's need for routine and order, and are not put off when said child voices a concern over changes in the schedule or attempts to correct them on her own.

As mothers, it is easy to get caught up in the modification of behaviors, so that our children fit a particular standard or mold.  Heaven forbid they stand out in a crowd.  Yet, in our efforts to correct, refine, and refrain our children, we may very well be missing the opportunity to reinforce, esteem, and encourage all that makes them unique, for they were fearfully and wonderfully made. (Psalm 139)

It has been said that it takes a village to raise children, and thankfully the inhabitants of my village happen to be extremely thoughtful, encouraging, supportive, funny, honest, and affirming.  Not long ago, after our little lady's storytelling incident, I received an email from a friend.  In it she wrote, "Charlotte is such a unique young lady.  Her imagination and creativity reflect God's own image...as we all do, but it's so special to see it come out in certain people in such dramatic ways."   My dear friend could not have known how her words would impact me then, or how they have since come to mind, serving as a reminder of how precious and unique a gift our little lady is.   Furthermore, how precious she is in the eyes of her Creator. 

Each night when I put our little gal to bed after a long (and typically dramatic) day, I am reminded of Olivia's mother's words to her own piglet, "You know, you really wear me out.  But I love you anyway." To which Olivia responds, "I love you anyway, too."  Such a beautiful and honest exchange that chokes me up each time I read it.  I look forward to the years of wear our little lady will bring, for I could not imagine loving a little thespian more.