I’ve long said Livia reminds me of Jackson Pollack because she’d roll in paint if she could. The physical connection of paint and canvas makes her very very happy.
Our holiday break has been, well, luxuriously quiet and slow. Translation: things are getting boring around here. When Livia asked to do face paints tonight I let her. You can see the results. Some of the paint is so thick she can’t open an eyelid all the way.
Liv wants me to ask blog readers a question: What am I? (I think we played this guessing game once before and she was entertained by it. Have at it!)
Final note. After finding face paint on the floor, walls, several light switches and at least five pieces of clothing and/or towels, Livia’s mean parents have banned the substance from the house for a time. Whew.
Today we wake up with a child eager to open the presents under the tree. We watch her and claim her excitement as our own. We help tear the gifts from their boxes, cut tags, unwind cords to she can play with the things we’ve given her. We wear silly hats, rush out to the last dregs of snow in the yard to make snowballs with the new snowball maker. We take pictures and smile and then lay on the couch for a Christmas nap. We look forward to ham and potatoes, green beans and another celebration yet to come.
Jesus’s birthday. God incarnate, God come to earth as a tiny baby boy, prepared for an eventual death to free mankind from their sins. This is the reason why our family celebrates of a day of gifts and good food. Jesus! Behind the physical manifestations of a party is this supernatural reason for the party—eternal life with our God, made possible by the perfect life and sacrificial death in our place. Today we celebrate with joy the birth of our Savior knowing full well that we’ll celebrate with grief in a few month’s time his death on our behalf. It’s all more than a little mind-boggling. And it requires faith to see what we cannot see and to listen to God’s whisperings in our hearts.
Praise be to God for the gift of Jesus today. We are grateful. We long for the day we see him again face to face and faith becomes sight.
21 Now I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away. Also there was no more sea. 2 Then I, John, saw the holy city, New Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. 3 And I heard a loud voice from heaven saying, “Behold, the tabernacle of God is with men, and He will dwell with them, and they shall be His people. God Himself will be with them and be their God. 4 And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes; there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying. There shall be no more pain, for the former things have passed away.”
5 Then He who sat on the throne said, “Behold, I make all things new.” And He said to me, “Write, for these words are true and faithful.”
Revelation 21:1-5
When you’re nine years old and you’ve had a long day of working hard, it’s nice to snuggle with your Nana while you wait for dinner.
Sometimes I just want to bottle up Age Nine and savor it forever because these years seem to be moving by faster and faster. Ten is right around the corner—it’s a big deal because it uses up ALL fingers on BOTH hands. Double digits.
Today she is nine. And cuddly still. And I love her to the moon and back… so does her Nana.
Exactly how committed am I to my challenge-within-a-challenge? Um yeah, only kind of committed apparently!
It is COLD outside, friends. Ridiculously cold. Last night Jeremy and I briskly walked the three blocks from a downtown parking garage to the movie theater and I almost died. Our car used it’s magical powers to tell us it was 1 degree outside, which meant the windchill was something heinous.
That’s my sob story and that’s my explanation for why today’s image was taken in my warm basement. Livia’s been dying to do crafts, so we cut paper into snowflakes, colored them when desired, and watched the Grinch on tv.
Oh the weather outside is frightful…
I needed a break. She needed a break.
First pumpkin spice latte of the season was almost a spiritual experience, though I’m embarrassed to admit it meant that much to me.
Homework sits, undone, on the kitchen table while she plays in the rain for HOURS.
I’m thankful for the rain, for the clouds, for the stream overflowing behind our house, for the little neighbors so happily playing together, for the hummingbird moths fascinating my daughter, for pumpkin spice lattes, for friends that call and text, for a husband who sent me to Starbucks even though we’re trying to save money, for a clean countertop, and last-but-not-least chocolate chip cookie dough.
I have not forgotten the date—no, I woke up with it on my mind. 9/11. Somehow it seems fitting that it’s a rainy day.
Commence the debate as to whether it’s still summer or not. Summer, the season, came to visit us again yesterday (and I hear it’ll show up in full force today as well), so even though we’re in full swing at school, summer still reigns.
A quick note about photography and motherhood. Sometimes photographers who happen to be mothers get tired of documenting every event. We do this for work and are keenly aware that sometimes you need to put the camera down and simply *live* life, without documentation. And yet, I describe my cameras as being almost like a body part of mine—I want them with me pretty much all the time and feel something less than whole when I don’t have one at my disposal. But yesterday, while the kids were playing outside, I was somewhere between laziness and living in the moment, and had this ridiculous internal dialogue going. This light is wonderful… Look at these little faces… That’s okay, just enjoy it and enjoy chatting with Renae… But the light! Aaaa, the light! And that’s when I got up and shot a few images.
I’d say my efforts were entirely worth it in the end. I love these precious kids and I’m glad to make art from some of their last carefree summertime moments in 2012.
My next personal essay will be entitled, “The Role of the Trampoline in Respite Care” or “How the Trampoline Saved My Bacon.” Stay tuned.
Father God,
Watch over your beloved Livia today on her first day back to school. Be her strength and her stronghold, her solid rock while the rest of her world is changing and still unsettled. May she know that your spirit is with her all day long and that you comfort her. Please bless her with a quieted mind that is eager to learn, a heart of compassion for befriending others, and a spirit of joy that is contagious. Give her at least one friend today, Father; one person who understands imagination and creativity and exuberance. I am so grateful that you love her far more than I can even fathom. May your grace mark our household and your love bolster us to love others today.
In Jesus’s Name, amen.
