We usually go to San Francisco sans Liv. ThoughtMatrix throws a holiday party each year, which gives us an excellent excuse to get out of town together minus the kiddo. Holiday party – babysitter = obvious decision to leave Livia behind. Does this make Livia particularly happy? No, and we’ve wanted to show her the city for years, so a quick trip west found her at our sides this year.

She’s been glued to me for five days straight now. All day, every day. Lots of family togetherness. (God bless my home with its individual bedrooms and doors that shut and the television that sits far away in the basement. My extroversion has its limits apparently.)

Enjoy the following images from our trip. The first few are snapped in Jeremy’s office and the rest are taken near the Ferry Building and Fisherman’s Wharf. Are those gorillas doing yoga on the street? Why yes, of course. And why is Livia feeding pigeons in multiple shots? You know Liv, she’s a miniature Dr. Dolittle. I stopped her from actually touching the birds and I managed to put the kibosh on the loud seagull noises she was making, so really, that’s a win in my book. Please note that neither Alcatraz nor rain will distract her from feeding the “poor pigeons.”

Taking care of a child in an incredibly diverse city was an interesting experience. San Francisco became simultaneously more gentle and more graphic. More on that later perhaps.

I told Livia yesterday that Halloween wouldn’t be so exciting if we trick-or-treated every week. As it is, it’s once a year. And it takes so very long for it to get here when you are eight years old. Oh, the agony! But when it shows up, the excitement about bowls you over and then suddenly you’re surround by butterfly wings and wigs and mascara and glitter hair spray. This year even the weather cooperated and—dare I declare it?—Halloween 2012 was my favorite Halloween yet.

Dressing an eight year old was simple.
Feeding the eight year old was simple.
Taking the eight year old to grandparents’ houses, simple.
Going door to door for over an hour in the dark with an eight year old, simple.

And fun. Lots of fun.

Jeremy and I managed to recall all nine of Livia’s Halloween costumes, and yet, I couldn’t quit commenting on how adorable she looked with her monarch wings and homemade antennae. At each door she was really sweet and very polite. And this year had the bonus of trick-or-treating in a fabulous neighborhood we’re blessed to call home. We ran into friends in the dark and just had a really great time together as a family. Thank you, God, for sweet memories like these.

Bumblebee, giraffe, ballerina, Husker cheerleader, Tinker Bell, Tinker Bell, tooth fairy, pirate and butterfly. There, all nine recorded.

Look at this happy and quiet scene! What’s going on? Hours and hours of pumpkin carving, that’s what’s going on.

We bought pumpkins really early in the season and my carvin’-happy child couldn’t wait to get started. Using the teeny tools from a store bought kit, Livia cut up two pumpkins and did almost the entire thing, start to finish, by herself. (I only helped when the stems presented a challenge.) Over the course of a weekend I’d say Liv spent about five hours pumpkin carving. Way to go, kid!

Know what’s scarier than a scary jack-o’-lantern? A scary jack-o’-lantern that’s molding inside. So yeah, neither of our carved pumpkins made it until Halloween.

One small hand closed on the letter beside him and he slept on, not knowing he was special, not knowing he was famous… He couldn’t know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: “To Harry Potter—the boy who lived!”

I have been waiting so long to read Harry Potter to Livia. It is time! While Jeremy is at a meeting we decided to crack open some play dough and get reading. Or rather, I decided to do this and Livia went along with my plans until…

She was done. And bored again. But Mom wanted to read more. So…

Face paints. Hoo boy, let the good times roll.

This is life with one child in the Tredway household. Harry Potter and play dough and face paints in the span of a two hour meeting on a quiet Sunday morning. You know what also happens with life with one child? Television. I think we set an all-time television-watching-record-of-shame yesterday, so today we’re trying to counter it with something more productive.

**As something of a postscript to my post: Livia would like you to guess what she is in these pictures. The second shot captures her in action.

Happy birthday to my husband Jeremy! The two people in this shot are incredibly precious to me—they make this life sweet indeed.

Canine photographer, I am not. Yes, I can certainly capture the cuteness of a pooch and I have lots of fun snapping pics of families with their beloved dogs. But it’s safe to say I’m not going to set up a pet photography studio anytime soon as I’m more passionate about people than pets right now.

The reason I’m showing an image of this pet above is because that’s pretty much all I can show from a photo shoot a few weeks ago. On a surprisingly mild day in August, my friends met me on another friend’s acreage for a family portrait session. It was beautiful. The kids were hilarious and super cute, and even as I edited the session, I found myself laughing out loud at their antics.

But you will not see these shots published online because the children are currently wards of the state. And, as you can imagine, their privacy is an utter necessity.

Spending time with foster families and taking family photos is a huge pleasure for me. I hope I get more and more jobs capturing the love of foster families across Nebraska. The only drawback is that I can’t share the shots here with you!

I’m putting this info on my blog for my own family as well. It’s no secret that we’re certified foster parents awaiting the placement of a child. When the day comes that our household grows a bit, I won’t be able to put his/her face on the blog. And that’s okay. Maybe Shiloh will end up getting more moments in the spotlight.

Lately I’ve been extra anxious about Livia at school. So when you ask me how the new school is going, you might get a blank stare before I cobble together something like, “Oh, it’s good. I’m just trying to figure things out.” I’ve been more shaken by the newness of it all than I’d like to admit. There have been lots of conversations with Jeremy and friends about what Livia needs, how to get it, and why I’m such a mess as I stumble through the process.

I value stability. I value intimately knowing a particular place and understanding how my family fits into it. Once nicely settled, I’m as spontaneous as the next person, but until that point, I’m apparently a bit of a mess. School, and the challenges Livia in particular faces at school, is a battle ground. Sure, the educators and I are on the same side, but it takes awhile to figure it all out.

Enter the Moms in Touch prayer group. Now called, simply, Moms in Prayer.

Yesterday I met with a new set of moms (for this new school we’re now in) and we remembered that our God is FAITHFUL. He is constant, loyal, reliable, steadfast, unwavering, devoted, true and dependable.

Amen. I could end there, with that reminder that my shaky ground isn’t really all that shaky. No, in fact it’s rock solid because Christ is my sure, steady and always-faithful foundation. However, I was struck most by the time of intercessory prayer. Each mom prayed for the woman to her left by reciting the following verses with her child or children’s names in the blank spots. I usually get teary during this part as I have such worry in my own heart that I’m overwhelmed with how much God loves my child. I’m also overwhelmed that someone else would pray so intimately for my child.

We have lots of needs in this house. We have a lot to pray for. But as my husband so gently reminds me, the biggest need our child has is for a loving Savior. And she’s got that, because He has got her. Thank you, God, for caring for my daughter far better than I even know or understand. Thank you for the blessing she is to me.

We all need to be reminded that God is big enough to care for all our needs. Feel free to insert your child’s name—or your own—in the blanks below:

Lord, show _______ that your ways are perfect and your word is flawless. Be _______’s shield as s/he takes refuge in you (2 Samuel 22:31). Let _______’s heart be good soil, that _______ might hear your word, retain it, and persevere to produce a crop of godly character and effectiveness for your kingdom. Don’t let the worries, riches or pleasures of this life choke your word and make it unfruitful in _______’s life. Let his/her roots go down deep, so s/he can stand firm in times of testing (Luke 8:11-15). Do not let _______ merely listen to the word and so be deceived. Let _______ do what it says (James 1:22). Let the word of Christ dwell in _______ richly as _______ and his/her peers teach and admonish one another with gratitude in his/her heart toward God (Colossians 3:16). Make your word a lamp to _______’s feet and a light for _______’s path (Psalm 119:105).

Jeremy moved from Columbus, Nebraska, to Lincoln for second grade. I moved from Augusta, Georgia, to Fresno, California, halfway through second. And Livia Raine continues the tradition by moving across town at the start of her second grade year.

I’d argue she has the easiest transition of all. And yet, as her mother who knows how hard transitions are for her, I am grateful for a small move rather than a big one.

Last night we took our first steps through Livia’s new school and the differences between two elementary schools in the same city were pretty obvious to me (though I don’t think Livia noticed them much).

Size. This school is big, almost 200 more students than the last one. Parents and children were flooding into the halls and, as another mom pointed out to me, moms and dads were in attendance.

Color. There was a lot of white goin’ on last night. Liv would say peach, or pink if you’re talking about her dad. The rest of us see it as white. White white white. Now, I like white people just fine but this change is the hardest one for me. And yes, I know it’s not even *my* school so whatever. Our last school was such a mix of ethnic backgrounds—it was rich in that sense—and this new place is quite homogenous. I’ll adjust to it eventually, but you can bet I’ll be on the lookout for diversity in the meantime.

Parents. Parental involvement in this new school is huge. Everywhere I turned last night I was confronted with a sign-up sheet for something. Sign-up for an email list (or three, I really think I signed up in three different places). Sign-up to volunteer in this classroom or that. Sign-up for fall conferences. And spring. And here’s a sticky note for a reminder because goodness knows you won’t remember that spring conference date once you leave the room. I’ve heard the PTO is really active (which scares me a little) and I’ve been given notice that fundraising here is alive and well. Friends, you’ve been warned. Come to me—I mean LIVIA, cough cough—for all your wrapping paper needs this fall. We’ll hook you up.

No matter where you go, some things are the same. Academics and school staff. All across this town there are professionals who go to work each day for the sake of you and your kid. I cannot express how much I value the employees of the Lincoln Public School system and how grateful I am for the work they do. Not only did I graduate from LPS (Lincoln Southeast Class of ’96, hello!) but I’ve also had great interactions as a parent with the Early Childhood Intervention folks and the staff of Livia’s first elementary school. I have been surprised time and time again how much these professionals care for my child and how committed they are to her success as a student. One thing is clear to me: we’re all in this together. And I couldn’t be more pleased.

So here we go, diving headfirst into the 2012-2013 school year, training little people to love learning. It doesn’t get better than that.

I told some friends today that I was the creme filling in a very affectionate Tredway sandwich. I told this to them to explain why Livia came back for one more kiss on her way to swim lessons—it’s just how she rolls. And it’s how her daddy rolls, too. These people I live with? They love the physical lovin’, which is how I came to find myself smooshed between their hot bodies on our master bed today. I believe there were eight-year-old legs flung over my hips and an eight-year-old arm around my neck while I spooned with my hubby on the other side. Not only do I need less physical closeness than these two do, I’m also a tad claustrophobic. The creme filling eventually oozed away from the two cookies in order to save herself.

If getting squished by two lovable characters—and one with that precious face above—is my lot in life, well then… I have a good lot indeed.