the finest man i know

I grew up listening to a Grand Old Opry record that had "Father's Table Grace" on it. It starts out with the words "my thoughts go back to childhood and the finest man I know..." That always makes me think of my dad.
I seldom share something as personal as my memories about my dad - it's just hard for me.
But Jeremy and I have been doing a parenting Bible study so I can't help but think about my parents parenting techniques as we talk about things.
And two teachable moments about my dad keep coming to mind.
I hate my chin. Always have. I was in grade school when I remember whining to my dad about how much I hated my it. And he told me, "A strong chin means a strong woman."
I don't know if he ever knew how perfect of a reply that was. It would have been useless to try to convince me it wasn't ugly. And now I've gone for a long time thinking that it's better to be strong than it is to be pretty. Someday, if Madeira has similar struggles, I hope I take the time to address her little heart with such good advice.
Then there was the ordeal of me being in Brownies in 3rd grade. I really, really, REALLY wanted to be in Brownies. So as I was begging my parents to let me, I started crying. And my dad caved. I got to be in Brownies for a year. When my siblings tell this story, they make me sound like a conniving little wench. When I think about it, it makes me think of a tenderhearted man who was moved by the want of his little girl.
Listen to your children. Care about the things that make their little hearts beat faster. Because some day those little things will turn into big things. And you'll still need to care and listen.
I'm so thankful I was given such a good man as a dad. Actually I can't be thankful enough.

What a man!

I have no idea how many books Dad read to us over time. And, those green shoelaces are awesome!

This is why he did such a good job reading to us.

year 2 for my deira

So this year I found a party on pinterest that inspired Mad's 2nd birthday celebration. I didn't get anywhere near as fancy pants as whoever did the original but it worked for us. :)

 Cake, candies, and snack set out on Wendy's amazing chevron table.

 Mad's fat little owl cake. A Dotterer owl apparently...

 Uncle Wes helping put on her new TOMs. :)

 The spread.

 A certain someone had a rather hard time with the understanding that it wasn't his birthday quite yet...
At the end of every party, I get a lot critical of myself and think that things weren't quite as perfect as I was hoping. And River got a fever the night before and was dosed on meds for the party. And my house felt too small and too loud.
So also at the end of every party, I have to remind myself of this - do I have a birthday party because I love my kids and want to celebrate their growth in a way that they'll enjoy? Or is it somehow weirdly about me and how great of a hostess/party planner/cake maker I am?
Clearly it's not about me.
Enjoy the party!

first class quirks

Before I forget too many little things about everyday life around here, I thought I'd share some of my children's quirks, singly and collectively and a few of mine as well.

His preference for sleeping somewhere other than his bed.

 Towers, bridges, race tracks, train tracks...

 Crowning the bears

 "Cooking" with fake food

 His friends (there are more than these 2 but when they're home - he loves to be with them)

 Macaroni & cheese

 His "target" gun, R cape, rocket shirt, and "broken" pants

 Hers: books

 Making herself comfortable wherever

 Coloring

 Wearing my glasses

 "Nacks"

 

Wearing head bands backwards, purses, and painted toes

 

 

 Cleaning. She loves getting a wet rag and going to town...this will probably last until she'd be pretty good at it.

 Theirs - gun fights

 Playing "hide and seek" in Madeira's closet. No one is either hiding or seeking but as long as they have fun and behave...whatever.

 Posing for me so well.

 

Anything for breakfast involving syrup

 

 There are fights, disagreements, and tears here at times. But they wouldn't know what to do without each other.

 Me: organizing, organizing, organizing...more info on that to come as I continue the process of purging my house of the unnecessary and cleaning things up.

 Pitching. I went through all my portfolios from school and while it was hard (hello, Lisa!), I made myself get rid of all that work I went to, typing up recipes and writing papers, etc. I haven't consulted them in 6 years so I figure I should let them go.

 Spring is on my mind. I've switched to mostly iced coffee by now.

There are more than just these things, of course. River has already informed me of what he'd like packed for his school lunch (butter and jam - meaning pb&j). Madeira has her favorite dresses and boots and shoes, etc. One loves baths, the other fights tooth and nail when it comes to being cleaned. They both reappropriate my kitchen tools and coins from the coin jar. River wants to be read the same 3 books over and over until I finally introduce him to a new one. Madeira loves to dance. They both tell me not to sing. :(
Life is a crazy little journey with both of them!

in defense of traditional values

There was a blog post shared on Facebook recently titled "I look down on young women with husbands and kids and I'm not sorry". The post got a lot of flack from stay at home moms and moms everywhere, understandably. Jeremy thought I was fuming because, according to her, I have "no real accomplishments", "don't take care of myself", and I don't "work". All these things could be and are insulting. Like all a mother or stay at home mom does is park her bulk around the house and do nothing while her children raise themselves and her house cleans itself and her marriage maintains itself and meals make themselves... But the real problem here is her disdain of traditional values - marriage, children, and training them. I probably shouldn't be surprised, but I don't know how she can think maintaining a marriage over x years and rearing children that are Godly, kind, servant hearted, and hard working is not an accomplishment and doesn't take work. Where does she think that engineers, doctors (clearly the only careers that are worth something...), etc come from if they aren't raised and trained and loved by their parents?
I actually did bother to read her whole post (very short) in which she claims that marriage and having children are so ordinary as to be average. (She is neither married nor a mother.) She is right - they are ordinary things and yet so beautiful and amazing and truly miracles from God. I could look at finding a partner for life as boring - and yet, I wouldn't have gotten married if God hadn't put Jeremy & I together. I could look at children as an unplanned burden. And yet, seeing that children don't just "happen" to everyone, they feel like a precious miracle to me. They were born and born healthy through no work of my own.
She also says that laundry will never be as important as a being a doctor or engineer or building a business. True. If I found my value of being a SAHM by my ability to do laundry, I would be thoroughly depressed. But laundry = taking care of my family. Taking care of my family = love. Therefore, although laundry is boring and tedious, it's just part of my service to my family. And what does she know - I could be raising a doctor, engineer, a business owner, a child who grows up to have a life of service to others.
She might think backpacking through Asia, landing a dream job, or a golden promotion are worth far more than what I do every day. I say, big deal. I've worked outside the home. I had jobs I endured and jobs I liked and I can tell you what I'm doing now feels like the first thing I've done that's really "worth" something. I'm doing the Lord's work here.
Chin up, ladies! What we do has an eternal contribution to the world unlike anything this woman will ever do at her job.

clouds in my coffee

 I had a conversation with a couple friends with young children one time. We were probably surrounded by shrieking children who were fighting/getting into the toilet/eating chapstick or crayons or whatever they could find and bite. One of them said, "Do you ever dream of sitting down in peace and just eating a sandwich?" I understood completely what she meant. Quiet, blissful silence.
I, however, don't really care that much about eating sandwiches, and more important, my kids don't. They would be highly unlikely to bother me while I was eating.
My dream is to sit down in the morning with a cup of coffee and just enjoy it. No little girl begging me for a sip (yes, she will drink it black or with creamer, just not piping hot). No little hands tugging on the arm that is bringing the cup up for a sip to spill all over one's self or the couch or the floor.
There's a coffee stain on my living room carpet now. Jeremy couldn't believe I was dumb enough to drink it in there. Was it really too much to ask to drink on my own comfy loveseat? I guess.

I have to remind myself that there will be plenty of time for quiet coffee drinks in the future. A day coming when my kids will probably think they'll get an infectious disease from drinking out of the same cup as me. They won't want to sit on my lap or beside me on the couch, begging for my attention or one more book to read.
I want them to grow up. Seeing them gain independence and strong personalities is one of the things that brings me true delight.
But I was looking at some old pictures the other day, and while I wouldn't want to go back, I already miss the little people that they were once.

They are growing up ridiculously fast. Again, a good and sad thing at the same time.
I just want to know that I enjoyed the time I had while it was mine.
Days with you, my sweet little kids, are so bittersweet.

the ballad of two

Two kids is awesome. Sometimes annoying or frustrating but mostly pretty cool, as I see them get to be good friends and watch them share and look out for each other, at least some of the time.
This isn't even a fraction of the amount of pictures I've taken of the two of them together, more so as they've gotten older and started playing together.

But as they say, all good things must come to an end. The days of the ballad of two are numbered.
Two kids is awesome. But I'm sure three will be better. :)

I know some people are weirded out by sonograms but in spite of all the evidence, I don't really "feel" pregnant until I know my baby is alive and healthy. It's just nice to know.

Some of you have asked if the kids are excited. Madeira is clueless. I told River I was having another baby, and he looked at me with a small amount of irritation and asked, "Why?" in a withering tone. So no, neither of them seem to care, at least at this point.
Jeremy asked me last night what we were going to do with 3 kids. It seems so far away that I can't really be worried about it yet. I have no idea. We had no idea with 1 or 2 kids, and we limp along. I'm sure 3 will be the same.
If you are curious, I'm not sure if we'll find out what we're having or not. Jeremy informed me a while back that if we ever did find out the gender, we weren't going to be telling anyone. I don't know if I'll be able to keep a secret...
Anyway, I'm excited about a May baby. My dad is the only one in the family with a May birthday and I was kind of hoping that I'd have a baby on his birthday at some point for some reason. But just having a baby in May will be good enough. Why push my luck, right?
On a final note: Everytime I'm pregnant, I have the thought that this time I will be both cute and comfortable. Cough. So again, wish me luck.

what i wanted

Some of you probably don't agree with me, but I give a lot of thought to what I name my children.
Years ago, when I came up with the name for my someday daughter, I imagined that she would be strong, tough, confident, sassy, sweet, charming, and the cutest little girl I could ever imagine.
I'm amazed. Today I have a little girl who fits the name I gave her like a glove.
Those gorgeous grey eyes, that sweet little grin, her fun personality, the way she says please and thank you, her shared habit of getting two of something so she can give one to her brother all have me wrapped around her little finger.
Lady M, you are my sunshine.