foggy frost

Last Sunday we woke to the prettiest frost. I just came across the pictures and wanted to pass them along. They made the evergreens look fake. Like the frosted fake trees they sell at the store- the ones that make you think, "that is so phony!" But they were real!

"not a toy"

We have a Christmas Decoration Graveyard on our kitchen counter. It seems to grow each day. I never thought Ivar was quite so destructive, but clearly nothing is safe.

About a week ago I said to Rory, "I was in a great mood this morning. I can't figure out why I'm so crabby now." And he replied, "does it have anything to do with the beheaded angel on the counter?" Yes! That was it! Not to mention the wings, king's arm and robe and Joseph's staff.

I was really bent out of shape about the red ornaments with the wood curls that used to be inside of them, a very special decoration from my Aunt Jan and Uncle Don. I was sad about this until my sister said that her wood curls had been ripped out years ago by Mara and Sonna when they were each about two years old as well. And for some reason this brought me comfort. Maybe that's just how those ornaments look if you have little kids around.

dear elsie

Dear Elsie,
Today you are five months old. Oh my word, you are wonderful. I forgot how much I love the changes that happen after four months, but babies actually do get easier. Try to remember that when you are a mama. I forgot that even in the two years since your brother, but had even written about it when he turned four months. You never were too challenging, but something magical happens between four and five months. Life begins to feel less overwhelming again.

This month you took to your exersaucer and love playing by the christmas tree. You playing and laughing under that tree is the best gift to me. You're happy and I'm hands free. You squeal and squawk and hum to yourself, looking at the ornaments, pushing buttons to make music, spinning yourself slowly in circles with your legs.

You have lots of neck control, so I can hold you on my hip. This is so helpful for mama multitasking. You no longer love your rumblebuns (there is an actual name for this...is it a bouncer?) because you'd rather be sitting up.

Your sleep at night is getting longer and longer. This happened right after we started you on rice cereal. I think you just needed something filling your belly.

My very favorite moment of the day with you is when you wake up in the morning. You will talk and fake cough for a long time until I go into your room. And then when you see me you light up brighter than the sun shining in the window. You make me feel like I am the greatest woman on the planet. You smile and laugh and wave your arms and we gaze and giggle at each other.

You love your brother and he loves you. We work on being gentle and sharing and being gentle some more. But his favorite thing is for me to put you in his crib with him. I'd never leave you unattended, but boy does he love to snuggle with you and sing you songs. "Sing Songs Baby Elsie!"

I love you so much, Elsie. So, so much.

what do you say? (edited)

The morning after Elsie was born a nurse's assistant came into our room. The sun had just peeked over the horizon, and we were groggy and tired as she introduced herself. Then she asked if we had heard about the shooting at the movie theater in Colorado. And then she went on to tell us all about it.

It was too late to tell her to stop talking. And all day long people brought it up. I had no idea where to put this information. It made me want to throw up. It made me want to cry. It made me unable to sleep that night, watching the cars out on France Avenue waiting at the stoplight, some turning left, some going straight. I was afraid. I was tender. And that night as I held my tiny little baby who had just turned twenty four hours old, I tried to process the greatest joy of new life sharing the same world with the darkest evil. And I wept a lot.

In the early morning I watched the traffic pick up on France Avenue. It was a work day and the road was congested and full of people going to a job to earn money for their family, to care for the people they love. I watched the cars back up at a red light, speed through at a green light. Looking at the amount of cars made me remember that there are millions of decent men and women trying to do good in the world. And there are psychopaths too.

I remember asking Rory what I was supposed to do with the news of a boy filled with evil, entering a movie theater aiming at helpless human beings.

Later I would answer that question for myself: I don't think we are supposed to know everything that happens in the world. I don't know that we are wired to handle every heartache, every terror, every tragedy. That's God's job. That day in the hospital, my job was to welcome my little girl to the earth. My job was to swaddle her, tend to her cries and hold her close for comfort. My job wasn't to carry the darkness and demons in Colorado.

The news on Friday of another psychopath entering an elementary school in Connecticut brought me to the same, helpless, dark place. What do you do with this news? I wanted to throw up. I wanted to scream. I wanted to be very quiet.

But Ivar has been speaking some good words into my life this month. He's been piercing the darkness with his favorite part our of Christmas tree. On the very top we have a little angel. I'll catch him looking at her, and we'll talk about angels. So he knows what an angel says. And he reminds me all throughout the day. Angel says, "Fear Not! Good News! Great Joy!" 

He says it loud and staccato. Sort of in a rough, deep voice. It's adorable. Better than adorable, it's true.

It's the best thing he could say to his mama who wants to hug him tighter, keep him in my lap longer and never let him out of my sight.

***

On Sunday I told Rory I didn't want to put our kids in the nursery during church. I was afraid. I was scared to let them out of my arms. This is unlike me. I'm usually rational, and can see the bigger picture. But I couldn't do it on Sunday. So we stayed close as a family.

We sat in church as a foursome, quieting our boy with cheerios and cookies, when a woman from the local crisis pregnancy center stood and spoke to the congregation about the work they are doing in our area and the needs they have for community involvement.

A surprise was waiting for her though. All month the church had been planning it. Money was collected, and everyone brought in brand new baby gear from Target. Four pack-n-plays rolled out before the director of this crisis pregnancy center filled with diapers, wipes, toys, baby baths, shampoo, bottles, formula, and sippy cups. And then strollers, car seats, exosaucers and high chairs filled the space in front of her. A check for $2,000 was presented and the woman was in tears. It was spectacular.

I've been thinking about the joy in that moment, the whole congregation giddy for the surprise we had for her, excited to be a part of something good, excited to give, serve, dig deep into our pockets and for a small one-year-old church, give generously. So generously.

I've been thinking about this moment and how good it felt to get involved. To participate. The news out in Connecticut leaves me feeling helpless. Our church in mission on Sunday left me feeling hopeful.

Light permeates the darkness. Everytime.

And that's the posture I want to be found in. Arms wide open, heart wide open. Ready to give. Ready to love and serve. No matter the evil and terror in the world. I have nothing to fear. My God is with me. And he brings Good News of Great Joy.

The whole thing fell apart when Adam and Eve wanted to know everything like God knows everything. But that's too much for us to carry. God begs for us to let him carry the load. His burden is light.

This world is not our true home. Don't you feel that? It's so obvious when we see evil so clearly. Our true home is waiting for us in Heaven, and we're all invited. The tiny baby who came to save the world invites us all to call him Lord of our life, and to live in the calming knowledge that our eternal home is our true home. That's Good News. Until then we are called to love and care for one another. That's Great Joy.

***
For more reading:

These two posts helped me as I continue to process all of this: 
Lisa Jo wrote raw words here.
And my preacher friend Meta wrote a beautiful piece here. 

my one thousandth blog post

I told Rory, "I think this whole blogging thing isn't just a passing fancy. I think I'm in it for the long haul." That was probably clear at post number three hundred. But I wrote another seven hundred posts just to be sure.

I started thinking about how cool it would be if I kept this thing up for another one thousand posts, and how technically, when I am sixty five, I could still be blogging. What an odd thought. Though I love having life documented like this and don't plan on stopping anytime soon.

Anyway, to commemorate my one thousandth post, I thought I would tip my hat to a few of my favorite blogs. These are the bloggers I look up to. These are the ones that inspire me to keep it up. I love the blogging community. Love being a part of others lives in this way. 

For example,

Elise Blaha is one of my favorite bloggers. She is full of imagination and diy projects. She makes me feel like I can try and accomplish anything new. I love that feeling. I have never met her, she doesn't know me at all, and yet I squealed when she recently posted that she is pregnant with their first. That is the crazy-amazing thing about blogging. The strange closeness you feel to the blogger after following their life through pictures and stories. I personally love this. 

Marta Dansie is another all time favorite. Marta is a stay-at-home mom and a graphic design artist. I read her blog long before Ivar was born and I so appreciate her happiness in being at home with her sons all day, her devotion to her husband and family and the way she paints homemaking in such a lovely light. I have learned a lot from her. 

Hootenannie. Love this blog. She is so funny, so adventurous and so, so honest. Can't say enough good things. Read this post if you're looking to laugh out loud. Funny, funny stuff. This post gives a good feel too.  I have never met Annie either, though just a few weeks ago I left a comment on her blog, she emailed and said she reads my blog and it turns out we have been following each others lives for years, while not knowing it. I adore her and her blog and was so flattered to think she reads this one!

The Forest Room is a blog that has actually transformed the way I see my future. I mean that. Sarah makes homeschooling look incredibly fun. And challenging. But so worthwhile. Her pictures are amazing, and the outdoor adventures she takes with her kids are inspiring. I may or may not home school one day (this feels far, far away) and we live in a great school district, but the creativity, imagination and intention she brings to her kids education makes me excited about teaching my kids, whether they go to public school or not.

Lisa Jo Baker. I am very new to this blog, but I can't get enough. Lisa has taken on the role of Cheerleader To The Mothers. She is a Christian who writes candidly about the hardships of motherhood, while shining a beautiful, encouraging light on how important and noble the call of the mom is. I feel understood when I read her blog. Like she's watched me in action and knows the parts of my duties that I struggle with. She's a good read.

And a quick word to you, faithful readers: I want to thank you for stopping by this blog so often. Truth be told, I would write on this blog if it was just my mom and sister reading (they had better read!) but it is so super fun to have such a great group of people reading what I write. I have always seen my life in stories, but since starting this blog Rory will often beat me to the punch saying, "oh, get a picture. this should go on the blog."

Here's to many more pictures and stories. Thanks for reading.