Category Archive: Livia

Livia at Age 7

I love that, after we told you that you may not ask to hang out with our neighbor friend (a male approximately 22 years old), that you later sobbed to me, “It’s just that I’m so attracted to him!”

I love that you bring me flowers multiple times a day and that you delight in giving them to me.

I love that you asked if my throat hurt tonight—because if it did, you would only ask for one song. But since it felt okay, you requested two.

I love that, when I guessed the next plot point on tonight’s tv show, you turned to me with amazement and asked in awe, “How did you know that?” I felt like a genius in those few seconds.

I love that you call your daddy a genius and that you didn’t listen to me that one time I tried to tell you otherwise. Without fully meaning to, I was being a jerk. But you forgot what I said and you still call him a genius. And I’m starting to believe you’re right. He is a genius, our genius, and we love him to death.

I love that you wanted to see what I bought at the mall today. And that you oohed and ahhed and commented on the absolute cuteness of each article of clothing, even though one was a pretty basic white shirt. I think you noticed the subtle details that made it so cute in the first place.

I love that you slept in longer than me and your dad this morning and that, when I came to wake you up, you stretched out, long and lean, then curled up tight again and went back to sleep again. For a moment I could imagine teenage Livia doing that very thing. But then you stuck your fingers in your mouth, and that darned bad habit was briefly welcomed because it broke my vision of the future, a vision that had you getting big way too fast.

Oh Livia Raine, our lives would be so boring, so mundane, so colorless without you. We thank God for creating you because you have filled our hearts with more love than we thought possible. You, dear sweet kiddo, are amazing. And you are loved.

Happy Girl

She questioned the orange goo that had formed on the edge of the popsicle. I told her it was no big deal. She finished it off, no problem, and continued to pull leaves from the nearby bush.

Bring it on, summer. My sticky, popsicle-lovin’ girl and I are ready for you!

Saturday with Liv

On May Day

Livia likes to bring me something she calls “love gifts.” She’ll scour the yard—or any place we’re going on a walk—to find something beautiful to bring me. What can I say? The kid speaks my love language!

We have very few tulips in the yard, so I was a bit surprised when Livia walked through the door with a tulip in hand. I didn’t want her picking them as I was hoping they’d brighten up our rainy spring garden. But as it turns out, that one tulip did more for my spirit indoors. It was so lovely. And, as the sun came out, it opened wide each day, receiving all the rays with open petals.

Liv has the right idea, in so many ways. Showing love freely, enjoying beauty when she sees it, bringing joyful bits of the outdoors inside to cherish. I’m glad for her six-year-old eyes.

Mr. Furrzy

Livia accidentally described Shiloh as being “furrzy” (fuzzy + furry) and the new term has become a favorite of mine. In Shiloh’s case, it’s incredibly accurate: he is one of the furrziest dogs I know. See all the fluff on him? He’s really quite Chihuahua-like on the inside, the rest is all fluffy Coton fur. Besides his high state of furrziness, he’s also—as these photos prove—quite adept with his tongue.

Easter Sunday

Christ the Lord is risen today! We serve a risen Lord—praise God.

Happy Easter, friends!

M-o-m! Mom-my!

In the middle of the night I “heard” Livia’s voice calling for me, so I jumped out of bed, ran into her room and began asking her questions and patting her face before I realized she was sound asleep. Dead asleep, even with her mama’s hands groping her noggin in the pitch black at 3:00am. Niiiice.

The weird thing is that sometimes I think I’m hearing her when she’s not even in the house! She’ll be asleep in my parents’ extra room and I’ll sit up straight in bed after hearing her call for Mommy.

The most unfortunate consequence of getting up for a real call or imaginary one is that I can’t fall back asleep easily. I usually spend 20-30 minutes trying to relax again, my mind spinning with unsleepy thoughts. Curse you, adulthood, with your multitude of responsibilities!

My last thought regarding sleep and children and responsible parental behaviors is this: Friday mornings are only accomplished successfully because Saturday is just one day away. Friday comes around and it’s almost physically painful to rouse myself and Livia from bed. Get dressed. Get shoes on. Eat breakfast. Brush teeth. Brush hair. Get out the door and get into school on time.

But oh, sweet sweet Saturday. How I adore thee. I didn’t fully appreciate your beauty until school started—I was blind to your precious ways. But now? I can see clearly your benefits. Pajamas until 3:00pm. Lucky Charms for breakfast. Lounging on the couch until lunchtime.

TGIF.

Bringing the Party

Liv brings enthusiasm, or a party if you will, to pretty much everything she does. She lives with gusto and uses her arms to express her joy and excitement—and if there’s a glass of milk nearby, you can plan on cleaning it up off the floor. Those expressive arms are not only good for punctuating thoughts, they’re also remarkably good at spilling drinks.

Living with my six-year-old makes my life so much more interesting. I came home from running errands this morning to discover a toothbrush suction-cupped to the dining room wall. It *almost* made it back into the bathroom, but not quite. And I’m still laughing about her song of choice while she was getting ready for school: Iron Man. As in, the song by Black Sabbath. Granted, the only words she knew where “iron man,” but still, hilarious.

Last night while I was giving most of my attention to the red carpet at the Oscars, Liv entertained herself making movies on my computer. I kept thinking she was talking to me, but as it turned out, she was talking to Lewis. Lewis was the one foot tall servant whose chief task, as I understood it, was to push Livia around in her wheelchair (aka my desk chair). Oh, and her name was no longer Livia: it was Cupcake and she was royalty. So I made Cupcake a grilled cheese and carrots with dip, and Lewis obligingly pushed her to a location where she could eat. That Lewis, such a kind soul. What would I do without his help for my poor broken-legged Cupcake?

This is my world. I am richly blessed.

Valentine, You Rock!

For more Valentine’s Day ideas, check out this post from 2009 and these two from 2007.

File Under: Makes Me Smile

goggles

This was Livia’s chosen attire for a trip to the grocery store yesterday.