The DPP is back! Beginning December 1st, I’ll post one picture each day through Christmas. I’d love to have other bloggers join me in exploring the Christmas season through photography. If you are willing to step up to the challenge, leave a comment here and I’ll link to you during the month of December.

And folks, this is indeed a challenge for me this year. The Prairie Box has been woefully neglected recently. Let’s see if it can get a little lovin’ for 25 days straight.

**A post about a photo project should be accompanied by a photo. So here it is… three generations of Tredway, all with happy-silly grins before Thanksgiving dinner. LOVE it.

The subject line has been my motto for many years. So I truly don’t know what got into me when I decided it would be fun to get up early Friday morning and join the crazy masses on a shopping spree.

The alarm went off at 5:30 am. Dad was out back, headlights blazing into my kitchen window, by 5:45 am. And we were off with warm McDonalds biscuits in our hands for an early morning adventure.

My goal was to avoid sections of stores that appealed to me — afterall, I was aiming to Christmas shop for others — so I consider it lucky that I came home with only one item for myself (hey, boots were marked down by 50%!). Sears was handing out doughnut holes to keep patrons fat and happy. Target was insanely busy, but as Dad pointed out, we enjoyed a lovely sunrise through their front windows while waiting our turn in the checkout line. Bath & Body was an estrogen extravaganza with my father as the lone carrier of male hormones in the shop, whereas Penneys was full of shoppers of every sex and ethnicity, most looking a bit brainwashed and weary by all the “doorbuster” items blocking the walkways. Or perhaps that was just the way I felt; Penneys was our last stop.

Dropped off at home by 8:45 am, I was giddy on a shopping high and gushed over my savings and purchases to my sweet husband who fulfilled his husbandly duties by nodding along and attempting to feign enthusiasm.

The coolest thing about the morning was that I got to be with my Dad. There’s not a lot of time these days for us to hang out alone, without the Wee One in tow, much less to head off for an adventure together. I realize that my Dad is the ONLY person who would have enjoyed this early morning hustle-and-bustle with me… and that made Black Friday even more fun.

Maybe, just maybe, this will be the one day of the year I can stand spending my morning hours in something other than my favorite pasttime, sleep.

Eric Carle
Margaret Wise Brown
Sandra Boynton
Dr. Suess

If you have a young niece, nephew, cousin, cousin’s grandchild from his fourth wife, or whatever, run (do not walk) to your favorite bookstore and buy the child a book by one of these authors.

**I’ve linked each author to one of his/her books we’ve enjoyed reading with Livia during her infant and toddler years.

Problem: No Dora videos in the house.

Solution: iPod, outfitted with Dora and Blues Clues from our vacation last month.

Oh, to be two and a half in 2006…

Is there ever a good time for something bad to happen?

Today I was thinking about all the rough patches I’ve been through in 2006 and, one could say, I’m not very happy about all of it. And yet, there’s never a permissible time for suffering to enter my world! I developed rheumatoid arthritis about ten years after becoming a type 1 diabetic. This health development found me saying stupid comments like, “What’s going to happen when I turn 36? Cancer?” And even if I hadn’t miscarried a pregnancy this year, but had experienced one next year I would’ve had a terrible attitude about it as well: “2006 was shot, and now 2007 is too!”

The funny thing is that I should expect suffering. The bible says as much, and frankly, I don’t know of a single human being that hasn’t suffered in his or her life. We all go through rough patches. Loved ones die in sudden car accidents, friends deal with affairs and divorces, we’re diagnosed with diseases and challenging conditions, our children struggle with school and relationships, our mentors and heros fall off their pedestals. Life happens, suffering happens.

And still, I’m surprised by the bad times.

But, a day is coming where there truly will be no good time for a bad time. I’ve said before that I look forward to Glory, to the day where I meet my Creator face to face and find myself wholly redeemed by Christ. I’m not sure how others get through the suffering they face, but I know that I find hope in knowing that someday this life of difficulty will be replaced with a life of complete fulfillment. One day I won’t need my insulin pump in order to survive. One day I won’t need to take medication in order for my joints to work properly. One day my soul will quit struggling for joy and all my relationships will work harmoniously.

One day. Someday. No more bad times.

Jeremy: I love you, Livia.
Livia: I love kitties!

******

After I use the restroom…
Livia: Good girl, Mommy, good girl. [hug] I so pro-oud of you!

******

Livia stops every few feet on our way to the car and every time utters:
Fix hat. [fixes hat] PER-FECT.

******

Livia: I bizzy, Mom. I bizzy.

Mommy thinks this is the cutest phrase the world has ever heard.

Jeremy: Dizzy. D-izzy. With a D.
Liv: BIZZY.
Jer: DIZZY.
Liv: Dizzy. I dizzy!

Yesterday can only be described as a “Two and a Half Year Old” kind of day.

We started the day strong, with minimal toddler fuss at the grocery store and some good outdoor playtime in the beautiful morning sun. From there we moved into playdough fun in the highchair where Livia displayed a new skill: snorting small bits of playdough. I didn’t even notice what she was up to until she began sniffing heavily. And then I was forced into full Mom Mode, “Don’t put anything up your nose, ever!” Check that phrase off my list of Things a mom must say.

Several weeks ago Liv moved into a big girl bed and boy are we grateful because she loves sleeping there. She had not once tried to escape from the bed, until yesterday afternoon. On a day where I was exhausted by lunchtime and desperately looking forward to some rest, Livia made her move. Out of the big girl bed, to her closed bedroom door, where she knocked loudly and cried for her mama. Suffice to say naptimes might be on the decline in coming days. She was still exhausted enough to fall asleep during an evening car ride, but I’m not sure how to convince her that she still NEEDS an afternoon nap. (For another fun story, I should have Nana blog about how Livia snuck out during naptime several days ago and helped herself to many of the no-no’s at Nana’s house.)

Instead of sleeping we then went outside to enjoy the bee-u-tiful November day. We walked around the block one direction, then walked it again the other direction. Liv drew with chalk, I pruned some of the garden. And then I dragged my noodle-y kid back into the house to complete a few chores. (My daughter has perfected the art of turning strong muscles into puny ones in an act of rebellion. I pray it’s a phase that will soon expire. Otherwise I’m seriously going to lose my mind.)

Just as I was starting to go stir crazy and desperate for some alone time, things really heated up. Let’s just say that Livia used a private moment on the potty to have a water fight, only not with water but with urine. I’ve noticed recently that I’ve been saying a ridiculous statement to my 2.5 year old: WHAT WERE YOU THINKING??? She was probably thinking, Boy was that fun! Argh. Off to the bathtub we went.

The final touch to our day (before picking up Jeremy from work) was a fall down half a flight of stairs. We store our shoes on the landing between floors and I thought the loud bump noise came from one of Jeremy’s heavy shoes flying down the carpeted stairs. The cries at the end of the bumping sounds convinced me otherwise and I about had a heart attack running to see the results of the fall. She was fine, wanted a bandaid, but fine.

I, on the other hand, cried, complained and vented on the phone to my husband.

Some days, especially these “Two and a Half Year Old Days,” I just don’t think I’m going to make it.

**Note: If I wasn’t an ESFJ would I be less frustrated with this type of day? I’m a strong F (feeler), so my day feels longer when I’m pushed emotionally. The structured J part of me isn’t a huge problem, but I can’t help but wonder if strong P’s make more laidback parents. Just pondering…