4.21.2012

It's The Little Things

Nothing makes my heart swell with love more than these two munchkins lovin' on each other.

4.10.2012

Enjoying the Sunshine

This weather has been crazy, bipolar, epic, outstanding, frustrating--> and ALL of the above. It's been incredible. Never in my 26 years have I experienced a spring like this one, hopefully it's a warm reflection of summer. :-)

The girls have immensely enjoyed this weather as well and now that Ada is big enough to pull the wagon, hopefully we'll be having many more walks with the shared burden of stubborn-walk-when-I-please-Nellie-duty.
And this video will be painfully boring for anyone other than family members--and probably for them too. But since I am so smitten with this little thing, I'm posting it here for prosperity. (Nellie that is, not the wagon.)

4.05.2012

Ada's Third Swimming Lesson



First, I should say that I am insanely proud of Ada. She's progressed with her swimming so much just within three days! She's conquered her fear of getting her face wet and has even begun bobbing without prompting, on her own accord, for...fun! 


Sometimes I step back and look at my big girl and am in awe. Where did she get this courage? Where did she get this intense curiosity for life? And I am proud. And I am a little embarrassed by how corny and sentimental I have become since her birth. 

But I am. Awed. By this perfect, wonderful, intelligent little being that I am blessed to have been given. Everyday she shows me something new, explains to me the most mundane (and yes, they are mundane) things as if they were worthy of an Oprah exclusive, and I am reminded about how quickly she is growing. And about how many things I have yet to learn in order to raise her and just to be a better person for her. 

Nellie is still all smiles, gurgles, and tempestuous mood swings. But she too is growing far too quickly for my tastes. I am so thankful for modern technology's advancement--I curse it some, most days--but  I also realize how lucky we are to live in a time where cameras of all kinds are at the touch of a button in the most minute of devices. 
Mama and Nellie hamming around poolside:
And there's no better day than Good Friday to be reminded of the blessings that I have been given. 

Lord, 
Thank you. My heart feels overwhelmed with the love that you showed us, for the ultimate compassion that you poured out for us. I'm struck by the agony and the despair, the brutal pain that you felt. Physically but even more so emotionally. Thank you for your sacrifice so that I would have the chance, the opportunity to delve deeper into love with the Father. So that I could raise my daughters to know You and so they could experience ultimate love. It's times such as these when I reflect on the relationship of a Father sacrificing His only Son that I am brought to my knees. In embarrassment, in repentance, and in compassion. I pray that my life reflects the deep gratitude that I have for such a gift and that the love that brought us here and gave us new life would flow through me into my family, enriching our lives together and showing others your beauty. 
Amen. 

An Emo Hipster

4.03.2012

Ada's First Swimming Lesson

 Ada started swimming lessons this week at UND. She's a "Bobber" or rather, she's a first level swimmer. I was nervous because by definition this girl was going to have to bob or submerge herself under the water, even if for a second, it seemed awfully daunting for a girl who comes up gasping like a dying guppie when shampoo is rinsed out of her hair.


Seriously. I don't make this stuff up.


But I took her because I want her to feel confident getting wet and because I want her to have the basic tools of swimming staying afloat.

She was so excited that afternoon she was bouncing off the couch. Literally. Here she is all sass before her lesson.
This first video is of the first minute Ada got into the water. (Disclaimer: These videos are pretty boring to everyone and anyone but me and Dylan. And maybe a few others. You've been warned.)


There was a lot of jumping this first lesson because Ada wasn't ready to commit to the full bob. But she loved it and was so excited to go back tonight with Grandma Sheila.


I really should've had Sheila take some pictures/videos of her because I guess tonight she bobbed! Nine times according to Ada (picture "this many") AND she "chop-chopped" like a tree and jumped into the water. I've got a fish! <><

4.02.2012

The F-Word (The 3 Lettered One)

There comes a time in almost every girl/lady/woman's life in which she battles and struggles with the f-word.
Fat.
F-A-T. Round, short, and stubby, blunt and sharp at the same time. Cutting.
I read this article today and felt that I had to share it for the others out there with daughters, sisters, aunts, moms, sisters-in-law, girlfriends, and the like. We all need to be reminded that we are imperfectly perfect and created within the image of THE Master Creator. We also need to be reminded that what we fixate on, what lies we buy into--our daughters see, the next generation of women that we raise will be plagued by our fears and insecurities. 



I am sitting, cross legged, on the bathroom floor trimming my five year old daughters’ toenails.  My nine year old son showers his muddy body as I lean against the tub.  My three year old daughter wrestles herself into pajamas in her bedroom.  My eleven year old son bursts in from football practice and hollers upstairs about reheating leftovers and having a sore throat.  My husband is out dropping our minivan off for a tune up.  The sun has set and we’re putting another day to rest.  In the confusion of this typical weeknight, I glance up from the floor at my seven year old daughter, standing on the step stool, completely undressed, brushing her teeth.  I don’t like the way she is looking at herself in the mirror.  I don’t like the way she pokes at her belly and frowns at her profile.  I watch her for another minute and step in.

“What’s up, girl?”  I ask.  “I’m fat.”  she responds without hesitation.  I’m instantly weak.  She continues, “My stomach jiggles when I run.  I want to be skinny.  I want my stomach to go flat down.”  I am silent.  I have read the books, the blogs, the research.  I have aced gender studies, mass media, society and culture courses in college.  I have given advice to other mothers.  I run workshops and programming for middle school girls.  I have traveled across the world to empower women and children in poverty.  I am over qualified to handle this comment.  But in reality, my heart just breaks instead.  I am mush.  Not my girl.
I rally some composure and stay cool.  “You are built just perfect – strong and healthy.”  And she is.  But this doesn’t soothe.
I flounder.  This child – my first and wildly celebrated daughter – was breastfed girl power.    I read picture books with only central female characters, I insisted she wrestle her big brothers, demanded family call her words like smart and brave as much as cute and adorable.  I tell her we are all different – straight and thin to round and plump and millions of ways in between.  I tell her it’s what makes us all beautiful.  Unconvinced.
I send all the other kids away.  I shut the door and we sit face to face on the floor.  There is more here and I need to see it through.  I tell her I looked just like her when I was seven.  I tell her she will grow to be tall and strong and fierce, like me.  Not good enough.  I reach and scramble.  I tell her how fast she runs.  Remind her of the goal she scored in soccer.  What an expert she is on her bike and the amazing balance and tricks she does on her scooter.  I remind her of her high level reading, her artwork, her mastery of math facts.  “Fat.”
I grow desperate.  “Child!  What is the first thing everyone tells you when they meet you?”  She sighs, “I’m beautiful.”  Beauty is not helping me here.  I’m failing.  Pleading, I ask her why.  Her blues eyes meet mine.  She tells me on two different occasions friends have called her “kind of fat” when they were talking about bodies this summer in their bathing suits.  And she felt sad.  But she also felt good because finally she confirmed that what she thought about her body was “mostly true”.
I think a few bad thoughts about her peers and their mothers and wonder what messages are being sent.  I am out of tools.  And now twenty minutes later, I’m out of patience too.  I feel powerless to what seems certain to her.  And I cannot understand how she does not see all of life’s perfection in her reflection.
I stand her up on the step stool in front of the mirror.  I strip off my yoga pants, my tee shirt, my bra and underwear.  We are side by side completely naked together.  She laughs.  I start singing a song that I’m making up as I go.  It’s rap meets Raffi with lyrics like “We are perfect, just the way we are.”  It’s wild and silly, but I cannot be stopped.  We’re shaking everything, and she’s belly laughing and totally thrilled.  I pick her up.  We are a ridiculous and magnificent pair.  The other kids hear the commotion and barge in.  They are confused and horrified.  I carry her to the bedroom raving about all the ways we are powerful and naked and women.  We settle into comfy pajamas and read a story together.  Fat is not mentioned again.
On this night, I have no idea if I have succeeded.  I’m not sure if what I said and did had an impact, if I fixed anything, or even if I changed her mind.  But I do know that I must continue to infuse myself and my children with bold confidence.  I must check in, ask questions, take the time.  I must build and undo.  I must be open and genuine.  I must but willing to dance naked in the mirror, resist the urge to see all the ways five babies have changed me, and stare straight into my reflection with love.  Then together, with a twinkle in our eyes, we only see radiance shining back.


(I love you girls--you are imperfectly perfect in every way!)

Riding Bike with Grandma

My parents came up to spend some time with us since we won't be seeing them this Easter. Dylan picked up Ada's bike from the bike shop and she was thrilled to get to ride it (unfortunately we did realize she's outgrown this one and we'll have to invest in another).

4.01.2012

Palm Sunday

Ada sang in the Hope Childrens' choir for Palm Sunday. There were two services so I got some video from both, you can tell that the first video shows when they first got on stage just by her demeanor.



So obviously this next video she's been on the stage for a bit...


Hope you enjoyed and have a blessed Holy Week!