Valentine's Day

It's been so long I can hardly remember how to log in and blog...I did notice the other day that people actually still check here, so thought I'd send out a pulse, especially in honor of one of my favorite days of the year (and this blog's 7th anniversary!).

Thanks to everyone who still visits here, sending lots of l-o-v-e.

Recital weekend!

This weekend we had back to back recitals for yes, the oldest child. I tried my hardest to get Elsa enrolled in ballet with Heidi the moment she was officially housebroken, but it was too late in the season and they would not allow it.  However, I did order two costumes, and on recital day Elsa also enjoyed receiving a tutu and wearing it to watch her sister.  Next year, Elsa, next year!

Why are we doing this?  I often ask myself this when we look at the time, money, and effort we are putting into these activities.  She is young.  She is supposed to be outside playing, entertaining herself, analyzing the movements of roly-polies and blowing bubbles. She does plenty of that. My original parenting dream was to have my kid involved in one music and one sport for at least 5 years to develop discipline and expertise in on area over a sustained period.  I didn't expect us to start so early, but Heidi sort of led the way when she showed so much interest in ballet at age 2...we started violin because even with all the play, I needed more for her.  She is inquisitive and needs projects and challenges; she has an ear for music, and I like to try new things, so this is where we seem to be.  I don't really know where it will take us or if it will actually last, but it's a lot of fun so far. 

Thanks to husband for filming these, for encouraging and believing in this, and for the hard hours he puts in to give our children the blessing of music and dance.  None of this would be possible without him.  And thanks to my folks and precious Grandma Mil for coming out and supporting us!

The kids are still winding down.  And next will be wedding week!

Elsa Turns 3

Just dashing off to worship God, but couldn't help sharing one of His best gifts to me:  Elsa Joy who turned 3 this week!  Suddenly she is all grown up, using words like "impessed!"  and dashing us all with her quirky cuteness and fighting spirit.  A consistent theme of her life has been a strong (not always gentle, but very strong) love for little creatures and animals of every kind.  Since seeing Toy Story 3, she has been all about the cowgirl, maybe because it's probably the anti-thesis of princess and being a little sister is all about finding your own identity....we went out to a pony farm yesterday to celebrate her birthday--all props go to Nana on that, I promise to get a picture of the cake!

Ever Striving:Repentance

I've had trouble this year sitting down to blog. It's not that I don't want to, it's just that I have forgotten what else to say besides admitting to being constantly exhausted and overwhelmed, in short, complaining. I feel like I don't deserve to blog, don't deserve to have thoughts other than what needs to be done and feeling shame for what hasn't been done. I've said here before that this past year has been hard, I think every blog post has touched on that and I know that this time of life is just plain hard, in very physical ways.

But the truth is that often it is just my sin that makes it hard. It is my own refusal to accept the Gospel, that I am free from the inner chorus of condemnation, that my song is to be one of praise and thanksgiving rather than guilt that I don't have it all together and never, ever will. That's right, I never will.

Lent for me began with good intentions, giving up certain things to focus more on Christ, and for the first two weeks, it worked great. Then, I failed. The spirit was willing, the flesh always weak. Then I think, I am not alone. Perhaps that's what lent reminds us of--that we will probably fail, and that if we do not fail, the failure will be found in our pride that we did not "fail." And when I failed, the Gospel set in, reminding me that we will never keep the law perfectly, and that there, in my failure, is where the reality of Christ's victory becomes true For Me. That is what lent teaches me, and that is why, as Easter approaches, I am more ready than ever to shout "He is Risen!"

But this year in particular I received a special gift: our computer memory was getting too full, and so we had to go into emergency filmmaking mode, so over the past few days I've been looking at our cinematic records. I'm stunned at how much time has past since we crossed the threshold into parenting. I have gone from being the expert at marriage and family to knowing full well and shamelessly that I have failed at both, repeatedly. And that I will continue to do so.

I asked Oliver recently what my biggest issue is and he said it perfectly, exactly what I know in my heart: I have these ideals, these perfect pictures of how I want things to be and when reality doesn't match I go off into the dark side. I need to start going to the Cross instead.

But when I look at what I have been given, the greater reality is that He continues to give, continues to pour out blessing after blessing, regardless of the state of my heart or even my awareness of what is going on.

I'm so thankful for these videos. Because of the nature of my line of work, there is very little that I can remember or ponder deeply from day to day, it's hard to think clearly during those few moments I might have with the Lord or my own heart, or even with a dear friend. But as I view the footage, I can see His good gifts, so many of them, and even more, I can see that I saw them. I'm so thankful for every moment that I was compelled to pick up the camera and celebrate my family, my precious community. I don't remember deciding to take most of these videos, but somehow as things were happening, I knew it was a precious moment, a moment worth living for because He found me worth dying for.

And I want to take hold of it all even closer, love harder, laugh more, and give more thanks. Here is another old video, one I've posted before, but as I watched it again, celebrating my sweet middle child, it seems symbolic of the things I am thankful for, what has been given, and also where I feel so often that I am. Tottering onward and upward, ever striving, ever more thankful for what has already been Won.

He is Risen.

He Crawls

Well, sort of...

Waking Up.

Last night I got six hours of sleep. Like in a row. I did wake up at 2:30. I heard no baby crying. A two year old joined us, as she has been since her brother was born. She has a certain way of coming into our bed, stepping right up over the foot of the bed in the center, like she is stepping onto a platform, marching through us and flopping down on her back with a contented sigh. Last night in particular she was whispering. Fervently. Not too loud, but present. I tuned into what she was saying: "And please help Mommy, and Daddy, and Peetah, and Heidi....and Una, and Nana, and Gamps."

Little soul was praying.

On my bed I remember You, I think of you through the watches of the night.--Psalm 63

It's nice that my little one is on a prayer watch.

I digress. So I got six hours of sleep. Peter has moved into his own room, telling me loud and clear that he was ready. It was so easy, but I miss him already. I know a lot of people don't sleep with their babies. I know it's each to his own, etc. I know that probably much of the reason I fell into the habit was because of my firstborns' surgical birth and the difficulty of moving the weeks after.

But really, a major reason that I sleep with my babies? I don't want to miss a minute. The rest of their lives I know I will be daydreaming about those silent (oh, yes, silent) moments when all we could hear was our breathing, when my hand rose and fell on your back, when we spent whole nights with you just there under my chin, just breathing. When feeding and sleeping were part of each other and our own tiny universe that lasted all night long. I love waking up to a little smiling face instead of a distant cry, I love this time. I miss it already.

But wow, those six hours of sleep felt like a week of vacation. I had no idea how sleep-deprived I was. Because really, when I thought about it, pregnancy doesn't allow for great sleep either--so really last night was the best night I've had, maybe in about a year. This explains so much.

Once again, I actually have some energy to blog.

We'll see.

Christmas Cheer

A gift to our most dedicated readers. The usual disclaimer goes here about way too long video length and minimal editing. Just a few moments in our daily life. Merry Christmas!