Nothing says “let’s paint!” like last year’s Easter hat, eh?

Coming up with fun summer activities isn’t hard. Implementing them, on the other hand, is a challenge. By the time I pull out all the paints, newspaper and other necessary materials, Liv is knee-deep in the activity. By the time Liv’s mommy is knee-deep in creative pursuit, Liv is DONE! and she’s moving on to the next thing. Still, I love doing crafts with Livia and I’m glad my kiddo enjoys stuff like this.

On this particular morning we grabbed some new white tanks from the previous summer and turned them into wearable artwork for my niece Madeleine.

One of my favorite pics of Liv napping. For more info, read my Flickr description.

Naps have amazing, restorative powers.

Livia gave up napping at 3.5 years. I nearly wept in despair and wondered how I could possibly fill our days with activities and not perish in exhaustion from the effort. Yes, we did institute a quiet time before she gave up naps. (It was something that we worked into our days with persistence and a fair amount of battling; quiet times definitely didn’t come naturally around here!) I found myself nodding off during an afternoon movie or pushing for a brief respite during those supposedly “quiet” times. And though it was obvious to anyone around us that Liv would benefit from a nap, the kid just wouldn’t do it. I think the saying “You can take a horse to water but you can’t make it drink” fits perfectly here. I could enforce a room-only policy, but there was no way I could make my daughter close her eyes and relax.

The strangest thing has happened this summer, though. Livia has started napping again. She’ll go into quiet time, mess around with toys for awhile, and then the house grows oddly quiet. No tambourine clashes blast through the door, no storytelling to dollies, no dawdling trips to the bathroom, nothing.

Aaaaaaahhhhh.

Naptime. Sweet, sweet sleep, available to Liv, to me, and to Jeremy if he’s on his lunch break.

Napping has it’s rewards we’ve since learned. Liv is much gentler, less dramatic, more enjoyable and friendlier after naptime. She tends to avoid the pre-dinner meltdown and also has energy for a late-evening walk around the neighborhood. The real kicker is, if we keep the naps to an hour or less, she’s still ready to go to bed at a decent time. It’s a win-win situation.

Now if only we can convince American businesses to commit to siestas… I think it’d be a positive cultural change, don’t you? : )

One day last week Livia wasn’t looking so hot, so I asked her how she felt. “Crumbly” was her response. (I told her I was crummy the other day. Ha!)

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Liv, explaining why she used the word “butt” in a conversation (when she knows I like the word “bottom” better):

I used “butt” because I like it. It starts with a B and has an S. And [shrug] it’s kinda funky.

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On when she’ll be allowed to light more dangerous fireworks. Short answer: when she’s an adult. Liv’s answer? A little more complex:

When I get big I’ll marry Seth, have a ball, and then light them on the Fourth of July.

Everyone who gets married has a ball, right? To which I say, thank you very much, Disney. To be honest, I don’t know which thought scares me more… the lighting of fiery explosions or my girl getting married.

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Final note. We’ve been talking about the birds and the bees quite a bit recently. Milo and Otis shows puppies and kitties being born (after which Liv asked for clarification, “Did she just poop kitties?”). So we picked up National Geographic’s Dogs & Cats in the Womb and, boy oh boy, did Liv get an education. Since then she and I have discussed eggs and “swimmers” (her term, not mine), menstrual cycles, miscarriage and locations of female body parts. My favorite Livia quote was when she referred to her “tiny womb” on a grocery store outing.

I love exploring life with this kid!

Sidenote: I used the fast-forward button at the start of that National Geographic program. I am so not ready to discuss the entirety of procreation with my five year old.

Another week, another tooth!

Liv LOVES having her teeth pulled. My girl will dramatically wail at the very possibility of falling on the sidewalk, but she’s super tough when it comes to losing teeth. We worked on tooth #2 for a few minutes. Wobbled it with our fingers, pulled on it with floss, then yanked away with a damp rag and there it was, a gigantic whole on the bottom gum for tongue and straw alike to fill.

I love the visually awkward stage that I know is coming. Sweet baby teeth are filled with giant adult ones that don’t quite fit small heads. For years kids look kinda silly, but I think they are adorably cute. Bring on the big teeth!

Last winter Liv’s dentist predicted our girl would lose her baby teeth soon, at “age five” she said. On Livia’s fifth birthday she worked and worked at that baby tooth, convinced it would fall out that day. This morning a little floss and a damp cloth did the trick! First tooth down, many to go. We’re pretty pumped around here. One of us in particular is eagerly awaiting the Tooth Fairy’s visit tonight!

In light of the last post on the frustrations of infertility (thank you, by the way, to everyone who commented), I have to point out that this photo captures the grace of God in my life. He gave me Livia almost five years ago and for that I am a kind of grateful that words can’t accurately describe.

Jeremy and I walked into Jewish Family Service in Omaha about seven years ago in order to get approved for adoption by the state of Nebraska. Our social worker expressed a bit of surprise at my age—and I laugh now thinking of it—because apparently it was a rarity to interview a 24 year old for a homestudy. No kidding! Adoption is usually the second option compared to the first, which is pregnancy. But I praise God that he had prepared my heart for adoption years before, and that he gave me a husband who was willing to adopt as well. I mean really, I cannot imagine my life without Livia Raine. As many times as I say “no” and she says “yes,” as many times as I have to tell her to PUT THE DOG DOWN!, as many times as I stumble mentally to find creative ways to entice/encourage/promote obedience within her, Livia brings unspeakable joy to my heart.

Two years after the homestudy was completed, a baby girl needed a home. After so much wondering of the future (on my part, I don’t know that Jeremy felt the same way), after lots of tears and the greatest doubts of faith I had ever experienced, we received a simple email that sent us well on our way to parenthood. God is good, all the time. All the time, God is good.

Thank you, God, for the joy you have given me.

Shiloh is fun and sweet. Livia is fun and sweet. Baby birds and springtime are fun and sweet.

But Shiloh also requires extra work on our parts.

Mostly he requires extra work because Livia isn’t handling the new addition quite so well. Our sensitive kid, while fun and sweet, has been a pistol of naughtiness recently.

I’m freaking wiped out by her bad behavior.

I post pics and brief descriptions because I like the subject matter, but life isn’t always fun and sweet. Sometimes life is stressful and ugly.

My world doesn’t look the way I want it to. I never planned on having my child turn five without having a brother or sister to share life with. I never figured Jeremy and I would have just one child. And when people ask if I have other kids, my mind flits to the baby I lost over two years ago before I say in a fake cheerful voice, “Nope, she’s our only one!”

Many beloved friends are pregnant right now. It’s an incredible challenge for me to express excitement for them while still grieving the fact that I’m not pregnant. I’ve realized it’s okay to both hope and mourn at the same time, yet it’s hard to do both in a practical sense.

I’m not always sad about infertility. And I’m not always hopeless. But today I’m feeling the sadness while I wonder about the future. Will I be pregnant again some time soon? Will we adopt more children? Only my sovereign God knows.

(Quick, someone post of a picture of something fun and sweet.)

Happy birthday, dear Livia! Happy birthday to you! May you always love small creatures, chocolate, your parents and Jesus (not in that order). We love you dearly, big five year old.

Hard to believe you were this small at one time. I’ve been getting teary today thinking of how blessed I am to be your mom. God gave us a huge task when he called us to be a family—He is good and has sustained us through the last five years of you!

We’ll love you forever and ever, Livia Raine. Happy birthday.

Love,
Mommy

Like most four year olds, Livia is learning her alphabet and beginning to read. The other day she told Jeremy she wanted something that began with the letter G. (I think it was ginger ale.)

Yesterday Livia wasn’t satisfied with her lunch; apparently, she had other things in mind for eating. I asked her what she wanted and she told me, “Something yummy.”

“Oh yeah? What?” I asked

“Something sweet…” [drawn out pause] “…and it starts with the letter CHOCOLATE!”

By the time she explained, with such a funny little grin on her face, that she wanted chocolate ice cream I was lost in laughter. Most days, and perhaps most hours, I too want something that starts with the letter chocolate.

I had grand visions of how life with a child would be before, of course, life with the child actually began. One of my objectives was to never be one of those moms who hovered nervously in the house after putting their baby to sleep. You know, the ones who talk in hushed tones so that any visitors feel guilty for speaking above a whisper. I had heard friends say, “Oh, during naptime I run the vaccum, talk on the phone, do whatever just so my baby gets used to sleeping with noise!” I prepared myself for a child that would sleep through the loudest storms of a Nebraska spring, a baby that would catch all her zzz’s while guests partied loudly one floor below her nursery.

And it kind of worked that way, for a little while.

Livia took easily to a schedule and even easier to sleep when she was an infant. But around age three everything changed. She became very particular about her surroundings (no more sleepovers at Nana’s) and even began to wake up for hours on end in the middle of the night. Fast forward almost two years and I realize how easily patterns are set. Our rituals today look absolutely nothing like those fantasies I had in my pre-mom days. And while I sometimes value those notions of late night guests, friends staying over until all odd hours for food and games and chatting, I have to admit, I like the way things are now.

I’ll chalk up the change to very active days. Our daytime schedule involves answering the ever-present question, “What are we going to do for fun?” Whether the the fun is play-dough, baking with Mommy, or a playground visit, I’m ready for fun of my own by 8 o’clock every evening. Apparently my definition of “fun” has also changed since pre-mom days. It’s now expanded to include alone time, something I used to consider very un-fun. While I still enjoy having people over in the evenings, I kind of need them to leave by Liv’s bedtime. After exuding so much energy in taking care of her, I usually don’t have a lot left over to dish out. And that’s okay for now.

Besides, when I do want to interact after 8:00pm (that is, with folks other than my husband who is perfectly content to curl up on the couch with a good tv show) it’s a special night out. Leave the kid with a babysitter, put on something sparkly and hit the town. It’s a reminder of who I am apart from Mommy, and boy does it feel good.

So I guess I’m saying, yes, it’s true, I’m something of a hovery, whispery mother come the moment my child’s head hits her pillow. Forgive me… It’s just that I don’t want her to wake up because I’m having so much FUN.