she laughed today

I held her above my head, playing helicopter--down, up, side to side-- and she laughed, looking all around and then back at me. It was a tiny little laugh that could have been missed if we weren't looking for it; wondering when it was coming.

Nicky turns 6

We had a fun time celebrating our Nickyboy this past Saturday. He wanted an Angry Birds party, and we were happy to oblige. Ricky was a rockstar dad and built some fun launchers. Birthday parties are getting more chaotic as he gets older, but we all just pile in and watch the kids run around, and try to have a conversation here and there. Within moments, every toy is out and the house takes on a new energy. People pass babies around, give hugs, avoid running kid-packs. I love our friends, new and old.

Our kind and generous neighbors provided free face-painting. They don't mess around, as you can see.

Those who could stand to be still painted birdhouses (this is about as far as Silas got).

Piñata time is getting a bit more serious. Nicky asked if he could go first and it occurred to me that he's not one of the little ones anymore. So, he was the first "big kid" to go after the little ones. 

Strawberry cake, by request. Fun with fondant.

Nicky and Jude. They're at different schools this year, so getting together outside of church is pretty special.

testing out the launchers....

So, now we have a six year old. He loves building with Legos and other "click-blocks", dance parties, movie night, Power Rangers and superheroes, still. He's a champ of a big brother; really good at "cheering up" the babies as he puts it. He's still full of funny sayings, like calling his drawings/paintings "fridgers" or "wallers" depending on how good he thinks they are, telling Silas to stop "buffalo-ing" everyone, and insisting that his school friend's name is Samanthum, not Samantha :) He does chores for money now, and is learning about saving and tithing. He loves school and goes to a really good after-school program, and gets upset when we try to pick him up early....

He is still surprising, sweet and full of life. I'm so grateful for another year with this boy.

two stories

Open your eyes to the bigger story.

Because there are always two stories: the one that is right there, obvious, and apparent. The one that seems inevitable. The one you don't have to try very hard to see.

The other story hides. It hides under a scrunched up, crying little face, again. It hides under your heavy sighs as you bounce and rock, and try to not feel anything because you're getting weary of the rollercoaster. This is never-ending, you think in those moments.

But it's not. It will pass. See how she smiles, on her tummy, reaches her hands out to bright, colorful objects; stares at the bright turquoise wall you both painted a few weeks before she came? Things do change, but it's so slow that you can't see it until afterward. So look back, and see.

Remember when she slept 20 hours a day? When she was never happy, never calm, unless she was asleep? And now she smiles at people. You play with her, for goodness' sake. She doesn't awake with a start, not every time. Remember when Silas was always in her face, and you had to guard her from his curious, not quite gentle ways? Look at him now, how he pats her on the back and brings her bottle.

There is a hole in your heart, and so you feel it. You're grieving the loss of things that every baby should experience, in a perfect world. It used to be an hour at a time, now it's more like three, and soon enough you'll be looking back on it all. Telling a story is the reward for living it.

I'm not going to lie and say that everything will be okay, because I honestly don't know. All I can say, in sincerity, is that it will pass.

You can pray for the faith to believe it will be okay. There is that.

It's not any of the stories that swirled around in your mind before. It's so real right now, that you kind of want to sabotage it because it's scary as hell. Every day you have to lay down that fear, or it will eat you alive. You didn't know what a mirror this would be, but here it is.

Right now, this story is mostly about humility, and accepting help, and family. You don't do this on your own; neither does she.  It's a story about burdens, and dividing the load. It's a story about a different kind of love. It will be about more, but for now this is what it is.

So don't worry about things like bonding and visits and what-ifs. Just do the little things. Maybe she'll eat some banana again today, perhaps not cry when you do floor play time. Maybe you'll bite your tongue and count to ten when Silas is head-butting your legs while you make dinner. Maybe you'll take time to just lay with him while he takes his nap, to kiss his unruly little head. Maybe you'll listen carefully to Nicky while he talks about school, and maybe you'll notice again how Ricky's coming into his own as a father in a whole new way and smile with gratefulness for all of it.

These are the little things that make up a bigger story.

a shifter's prayer

God, i used to think you were packageable.

i used to be able to say to others, to myself "this is exactly what God is like."

when i read the Bible i used to feel comfortable and right, affirmed in my belief

now i sometimes feel bothered by what I read, and oh so tired, and still thirsty

oh, how i miss being sure about you-

but God, i’m trying to lean into the present, to experiencing you in new ways.

i see you in the faces of children

i feel you in a sudden cool breeze when the sun is blaring down

i hear you in laughter and honest conversation, in the vulnerable

i smell you in an unexpected rainstorm, in the fresh morning air

i touch you when i touch the difficult, the messy, the un-explainable

thank you for these gifts. 

despite all the things i don’t know, i can still cling to this….you are full of compassion and mystery, and oh so 

unpackageable

and for that i, too, am thankful.  

God, please keep sustaining me in these shifts.

i do want more of you in my life.  

amen.

{This is another exercise from Kathy Escobar. She's my internet pastor, I've decided.}

right now Silas is.....

• "reading"--mostly about animals and their sounds
• 21 months old
• sporting some long curls that I love
• talking up a storm

• very attached to his Mama 
• obsessed with the Beethoven movies ("doggie? dogg-eeeeee?")
• coloring on the walls, and on paper occasionally
• trying to get away with riding in Nicky's booster seat instead of his own carseat. He climbs in, sits in the booster and tries to buckle himself in, all the while saying "yes, okay....ummmm" and avoiding eye contact
• having a much easier time with bedtime and taking naps. He's used to his big boy bed now, and seems to really enjoy being in the same room as Nicky

• telling Penny to sit, then giving her his snacks
• bashful around people he doesn't know well, even other kids. He'll just freeze and look down. And yet, he says Hi! to every person we see at the store if he's safe in the basket.
• quite the collection of emotions; very much a toddler
• so excited to see big brother when he gets home from school
• very sweet with Little Miss
• waking up really early. One morning this week, I set my alarm for five (five!) so I could have some quiet morning time and he was awake before it went off.
• starting to enjoy helping and picking up. The other day he handed me clean dishes from the dishwasher, one at a time, saying "here" loudly with each one. It took forever of course, but it was so cute. 

This little guy has been such a blessing from the start. He just melts my heart. I can't believe he's almost two.

today's things are for today

faith-full or faithless

numb or still

kind or angry-to-my-core

and I am always tunneling, toward or away

contradiction-

grace the biggest one of all:

every day i need

you to step in and save

me

from myself

today's things are for today,

they will expire

but I still try to stack them up in a closet, so

tomorrow I can just be needless

but

I am here, and so, still is my anger

my not-enough feelings

my humanity

and the grace-filled moments look

different that I thought they would

Still learning.....

still, learning.

We don't do this alone.

You incline, and hear my cry

every day I call out, in some way

every day you answer, in some way

I just stand and watch my babies, amazed by

all that hope running around

little rib-cages, arms reaching up

the weight slowly settles on our shoulders;

you reach down and lift it off

every day, glory.

*Psalm 40 inspired

disquieted

This week I am going to do things that are good for my soul. Things like:

• checking facebook a whole lot less
• setting the alarm and finally trying out that cycling class that scares me
• going outside in the evenings, taking an honest-to-goodness walk
• reading a book that's not criticizing or recommending anything, just a good book
• speaking kind words to myself more
• speaking kind words to my family more
• taking some time to make eye contact
• prayer and meditation (the practice of lectio divina has intrigued me for some time now)
• taking time to be creative
• breathing more, sighing less
• writing down ideas before they float away
• planting something for fall
• cleaning out closets and drawers, just for the feeling of it afterwards
• loving my littles exactly as they are, right now. Holding them close.

....and maybe at the end of it I'll find some things that have gone missing.