the many faces of lucy

She's mostly a very serious baby, but about a month ago she came up with this:


It's a smile that takes serious concentration. And though it may look like she's making all kinds of noises while she's doing this, it's actually a totally silent process with very serious faces in between the grins.

She does have some normal smiles in her repertoire as well…and though she is serious much of the time, it's a happy serious. She's quite content and seems to be thoroughly enjoying this process of growing up and discovering things. Like blocks! With letters!


Sometimes I think she's just so happy that she can sit up by herself. She just sits and smiles and waves her arms around for a while and it's all great fun for her.


It's nice, because I can sit her down in the hallway and do laundry and she's just happy to be there! I hope she's also learning how to take over this job asap…


We had some beautiful weather this past month and spent some time outside. She grabbed her first handful of grass…and didn't try to eat it!


She loves bathtime, and has discovered splashing. And rubber duckies. She likes them both.


We've tried various foods with little to no success. This picture is misleading, as it looks like she's really enjoying her apples. Actually, I think she did enjoy the apples…but mostly she just closes her mouth and turns away. No thanks, mama.


She does love her some daddy time!



And of course she loves to eat several things that are not food. Her safety straps being one of her absolute favorites.


Her sneakers are another.


I simply cannot explain how much I love this face.


And this one.


And this one.


Yummy block! C is for cookie!


And this is how she spent a good 15 minutes tonight, watching the fire. Comfy :)


This age is so much fun…we love watching her play as she discovers new things she can do. She loves to hang out in the kitchen with mama, watching me fix breakfast or empty the dishwasher. She will sit for increasingly longer periods by herself and play with one or two toys the whole time. She is sweet for other people who want to hold her and has started giving out smiles more and more to anyone who tries to get one from her. She has her screechy noisy times and when she babbles, it sounds more and more like words…dadadada being the primary sound, though I think she has yet to connect that to "daddy." She loves it when daddy comes home, and I had better be done feeding her when he walks through the door, 'cause she is totally distracted by him. She loves to play with the patches on his uniform. We have just this week been putting her to bed without rocking her to sleep first, and she's doing great…still cries a bit, but not for long at all. We have been so very blessed with this sweet girl, and we are grateful to God for entrusting us with her care and training. Seven months already!

another year gone

Sorting and organizing and trying to make sense of the chaos recently, I found a CD of images my mom had scanned and sent my way. Baby pictures of me. Some with her, some with my grandma, some with my big brother. Some with my papa, like the two shown above.

My own baby girl will be 6 months old next week. And I try not to spend too much time thinking about how she'll never on this earth know her maternal biological grandfather. My papa. 16 years ago, he went on ahead of us all to glory…and I wouldn't wish him back, really, for anything. God always knew the number of his days.

And it's not like Lucy is missing out at all in the grandparent department. My stepdad has been an accomplished grandfather for years, and I'm pretty sure he couldn't love her more if she was his own flesh and blood. I'm not worried that she won't know a loving grandpa…she's got one on each side of the family!

But I want her to somehow know my father, and all I have are some fuzzy photos and typewritten letters and imperfect memories. Imperfect memories of an imperfect man…from his inhuman cheerfulness in the early mornings to his fascination with new technologies to his bizarre attachment to microwave cooking to his thorough enjoyment of a good book or a bitter cold winter day. I think there are a lot of things about me that are very much like him.

Maybe I'd just like Lucy to know that her mother came by some of her oddities honestly :)

so fast

My baby girl is almost four months old, and these are the things I don't want to forget:

• The completely bewildered look she wore for the first few days of her life…
• The way she stretches when I unwrap her and she wakes up…bending almost backwards, with her little legs tucked up and her arms free of her swaddling, reaching for the sky…
• The sight of her perfect profile as she snacks and snoozes…
• The sweet look of total satisfaction when she's done eating…drunk on sleep and mama's milk…
• The peace on her sweet face when I finally lay her down…
• Watching her snooze on her daddy's shoulder…either with her nose squished into his neck so I wonder how she's breathing, or facing to the side, her mouth a lopsided triangle of contentment…
• Her pure, clear voice as she "ooo"s at me…
• Her full-faced smiles…
• Her "flopsy" pose at the end of a feeding and I attempt to burp her on my lap…head drooping towards her knees, arms straight out in front like she's about to fold in half…
• The conspiratorial grin she gives me when she's almost done eating and just wants to goof off …
• Her thorough enjoyment of having her face washed at bath time…
• Her delight in her Daddy singing her special "poopsie" song…
• The pouty lip quiver right before the all-out wail…
• The weight of her on my shoulder as she gives in to slumber…
• The look of delight she gives me when she's just filled her diaper…
• How she hooks her tiny arm around my shoulder when I'm carrying her…
• Her "whole body smile" she gives when she wakes up…

Over the past several weeks, Lucy's hands have found each other, and she's grasping things and pulling them to her mouth. She loves to suck on her blanket or burp cloth or bib or whatever cloth she can get her hands on. She babbles away to her mama and daddy, and touches our faces and gives us spectacular smiles. Her daddy cheers louder for her to roll over than he does for the football game…she's not quite there yet, but does go from back to side a lot…it's intense, this waiting for the complete rollover! She attempts crunches when she's sitting in our laps and can sit up with only a bit of assistance.

I don't want to forget these things. Nor do I want to miss today because I'm longing for the way things were. She grows and changes so fast, and I feel like I can barely keep up…as soon as I think I've got some things figured out, she goes & changes on me! I'm loving getting to know the person she is…loving the time I get to spend with her…loving being her mama.

brief was thy stay

A year ago, some dear friends of mine got the worst kind of news. Their college-age daughter had died. It was an accident, no one was to blame. It was one of those completely out-of-the-blue tragic things that slap you upside the head and heart and make you wonder why why why why?

It was the kind of news that doesn't make sense when you first hear it. I remember someone telling me years ago of a young man who had died unexpectedly…I had to have the person repeat the sentence twice and then say it back to them before it actually clicked and I understood what was being said. It was something I had no frame of reference for in that moment…it was so unexpected that I couldn't hear the words.

So a year ago, I read the emails and the facebook status updates and the news reports over and over, hoping to see that there was some mistake. But it was true. And it finally sunk in, and I cried my heart out for my friends who's girl was gone.

She was sunshine, this girl.

Every memory I have of her is of her smiling or laughing. She was great at focusing on the person she was talking to, I think because she genuinely loved people. There was nothing fake about her. She loved the Lord Jesus and wanted nothing more than to do the things that would please him.


The weekend after I made the trip north for her memorial service, my husband and I went to Charleston, SC, where we encountered an old cemetery behind a church. I noticed the light playing with the remains of a tombstone, and went to get a closer look. I love the bits of the engraving I could read:

Died…
…brief was thy stay
…of Love
…have called thee away
…have borne thee above

Even without trying to fill in the blanks, these words made me think of her. 20 years on earth is a brief stay…but she was full of love and has been called away…borne above…to be forever with her savior. And even as I have grieved for her family, I have rejoiced for her. She is in the place of unending joy and satisfaction.

And even as her family grieves still…and will always, on this earth, miss her…one day there will be a reuniting that will last forever.

most successful

The day after we found out we've got a baby on the way, my husband and I decided to finish unpacking all the boxes that were piled in the baby's room so we'd have a place to put this kiddo when he/she arrives! Because apparently, these 8-pound bundles of joy come with about 800 pounds of stuff.

Some of the boxes in there were boxes I had retrieved from my mom's attic on my last visit to my childhood home. Amongst the "treasures" contained therein was a plethora of medals & ribbons & trophies & plaques…most of which had not enough information on them to indicate why I had ever received them. So I had my man snap this shot of me wearing ALL of my medals before putting them in the "donate" pile. I posted this shot on facebook with a caption along the lines of "who knew I ever needed this much affirmation when I was a kid?!"


Of all the trophies & plaques that I uncovered that day, however, the two below are my favorites. Click to embiggen and enjoy all of the retro/cheap award details.


Can you just see my five-year-old self dashing 50 yards…and possibly even passing other five-year-olds on the way? Part of me wonders if there were more than two contestants, though! I love the typewritten peel 'n' stick label on the block of wood that was probably cut and painted by hand in a teacher's basement.

The one that really makes me laugh, though, is the one that deems me "Most Successful." There is no specification regarding this success. I have no idea if this was a sports trophy, an academic trophy, a bible club trophy…or what.

At this point, it doesn't matter to me what it was for. I'm keeping it, and I'm going to display it prominently where I can see it.

If you know me, you know that I'm not anywhere near being a type-A, driven, accomplished person with huge goals and checklists and a clean desk and a filing system. I rarely feel "successful"…like I have my act together…like I've accomplished all that I could have today. (Remember when I said I was going to try to post every day this month? I only managed 50% of the days of the shortest month of the year. UN-successful!)

I have come to terms with the fact that I am not a very productive person most of the time…I make lists and then do things that aren't on my list. I wait until the very last minute to do pretty much anything. I'm not a planner, and I have total ADD when it comes to cleaning or organizing or running errands or even just gathering what I need before I walk out my door. I'm very easily distracted from my (loosely defined) goal.

But now I have a reminder that I was, at some point in my life, Most Successful.

At something.

summer in a cup

Nothing says summer like perfectly sweet strawberries with fresh whipped cream.

And if you can buy a cup like this from a street vendor, then listen to a really fun jazz band while sitting on a curb with your best friend (whom you happen to be married to), enjoying a cool breeze and the softening light of the setting sun, well, I'm not sure there's a more perfect evening.


Throw in a liege waffle (we need to try them fresh…these were not all they had been touted to be)…


a beef rib for my man, a chicken kabob for me…


and a fantastic bunch of kids making music with buckets and garbage cans…

and you've got just a few reasons I'm loving west coast living!

by the way, am I really old enough for the (really awful) fashions of my youth to be making a comeback?? I totally wore purple skinny jeans. My parents wouldn't have let me do the safety pin thing…way too edgy.

this I recall to my mind, therefore have I hope.

Jesus said unto her, I am the resurrection, and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live:
And whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die.

Let not your heart be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in me.
In my Father's house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you.
And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye may be also.
And whither I go ye know, and the way ye know.
Thomas saith unto him, Lord, we know not whither thou goest; and how can we know the way?
Jesus saith unto him, I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me.

But I would not have you to be ignorant, brethren, concerning them which are asleep, that ye sorrow not, even as others which have no hope.
For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so them also which sleep in Jesus will God bring with him.
For this we say unto you by the word of the Lord, that we which are alive and remain unto the coming of the Lord shall not prevent them which are asleep.
For the Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God: and the dead in Christ shall rise first:
Then we which are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air: and so shall we ever be with the Lord.

Wherefore comfort one another with these words.

I'm remembering my papa today. It's been 14 years. I wish he could have met my husband and walked me down the aisle and all that. But I'm grateful that we'll have eternity to catch up!

Scripture portions are from the Gospel of John and I Thessalonians.

backyard fireworks

I'm so glad I live in America the free.

Many thanks to my husband, my brother, my grandparents, my father and many dear friends who have served in our military to keep us free!

And thanks to my husband for the private backyard fireworks display!!!

sputter

like a car that hasn't been started in ages…the cough, sputter, groan, whir of the engine…the driver (author) bangs the heel of her hand on the steering wheel, partly in frustration, partly in encouragement, straining to hear the full roar of life coming from under the hood…c'mon, girl, let's get moving!

back when I first started to discover the wide world of blogs…when I was just reading others', with no thought of starting my own…I would find one that I enjoyed…read backwards for a few posts, then just settle down with the archives and read the entire blog in a sitting or two, getting to know this stranger and her kids and her daily life and her creative inspiration. Once I had caught up, I would visit the blog every day or so, hoping for more tidbits…maybe of a life that I wished I had, maybe of a life that just fascinated me for whatever reason. Sometimes there would be thoughtful essays that would make me ponder deeper things, sometimes it would just be a photo of a loaf of bread and I would try to imagine a life that would have me baking loaves of bread just because I wanted to.

What would frustrate me, the inveterate lurker, was when a blogger would simply cease blogging. No explanation, no visit me at my new site, no hint of impending doom in the last post…the last sentence trailing off in screams… She would just not post anymore. And I would get annoyed. As if she was posting for me in the first place. And as if I had every right to know the details of her baby's birth, her new job, her move cross-country, her garden wedding in New Hampshire, her book being published…or just if she got the haircut she was thinking about eight posts ago and if she finished the quilt she was working on and could I see it, please??

Now I get it.

And after three huge life changes all at once, I'm back.

For me, mostly.

Though I hope you enjoy the ride as well.

where God proves once again that there is nothing too hard for Him

For the past year, Kim had been praying for no rain on her wedding date so the ceremony could be held outside. I hit the road in Rochester for the hour-long drive and drove through visibility-impairing rain much of my way there. I arrived around noon to a light misty drizzle.


Kim showed me the verses she had printed out…with the statement at the bottom that "God is in control and He will choose the weather." We spent the next 3+ hours checking the windows, judging the intensity of the rain and hoping for breaks in the clouds.


Here we are, testing the lighting for having the ceremony under the roof of the veranda. The chairs were set up inside, ready to go.


But wait! Is that sunshine I see?


Decision time. The coordinator said they'd haul out the outside chairs and set them up, in case it clears.


And then, the God who asks Jeremiah "is there anything too hard for me?" and of whom the disciples exclaimed "even the wind and the waves obey Him" steps in and holds back the rain. He held it off for the ceremony and all the photos afterwards…even for a trip onto the golf course.

When we got back to the lodge, it started raining again.

What have you been thinking is "too hard" for God?

(stay tuned for more pics of the wedding soon!)

we interrupt the long, drawn-out silence on this blog to announce…

yep. mmm-hmmm. that's my hand.

this is what it used to look like:


notice anything different?

maybe this will help:


and really, he's happy about this…this is his happy face.

great advice

…for so many situations…

up close

I got a new lens recently, and am enjoying getting some shots with this speedy guy. I can get shots in much lower light than I could get with my kit lens. It's this one here, if you want to know more.

my dad bought me my fist slr camera when I was 15. It's a Pentax K1000 that I still use occasionally to this day. (now ask me the last time I had a roll of film developed from it!) I had always intended to collect some lenses for it eventually, but never moved past the 50mm that came with it. I'd have to check to see what the f-stop is, but I know that I loved to keep it wide open to get a real shallow depth of field pretty much all the time.

you'll find a lot of people who think that if they just get a bigger, better, more expensive camera, they'll be able to take better pictures. More megapixels must mean better pictures, right? Actually, more mp just means more information, and if the camera is pointed at the wrong information, you're still going to get a bad picture. I can take some pretty terrible pictures with my great camera! And I've seen some fantastic photography lately coming out of old polaroid cameras.

It's really more about the eye than anything. Mind you, I'm not saying I've got the best photographer's eye out there. I'm FAR from it. But when I see a photo that draws me in, I more want to know what drew the photographer's eye than what kind of equipment they are using. It's about seeing things differently, and capturing what you see in the viewfinder…whether that viewfinder has a three thousand dollar lens attached or if it's a hundred-dollar point-and-shoot with a 2-inch screen as a viewfinder.



There's a verse in the Bible that I've always thought a little odd & mysterious:

"The light of the body is the eye: therefore when thine eye is single, thy whole body also is full of light; but when thine eye is evil, thy body also is full of darkness." (Luke 11:34)

What we look at both affects who we are and is a reflection of who we are. I think when this is talking about a "single eye" it's talking about focus, and purpose. One thing is needful.

What am I looking at? What am I focused on? Is my eye full of light? or evil?

I'll let you meditate and see what you come up with on this verse!

A couple of definitions I found of single:
Uncompounded; pure; unmixed. [1913 Webster]
Not deceitful or artful; honest; sincere. [1913 Webster]

a great day for a walk

If I could order up a day of perfect weather, it would probably be like yesterday. I love the chunky clouds carrying rain around while deciding where to drop it. The bright white clouds that make the sun shine brighter. The blue blue sky. The cool breeze.

I snapped these shots on my walk back to work after lunch at home. Have I mentioned how I love working this close to home?


either the artist's initials were RRR or this was a sound effect added to each of his drawings (can you see it at the top?).


I was brave. I didn't even carry an umbrella.

stretched :: challenged :: stimulated

A couple of weeks ago at work, I had a crisis. I was asked to do something that I felt I truly could not do. I wasn't capable of this task. It was out of my realm of training and experience. It was something I had not ever done before, and something I had said "I can't" to in the past.

This time, however, I was not given the option of saying "I can't." It was something that had to happen, in whatever way I could make it happen. It was so hard to take the step and try. I was close to tears one day, afraid that I wouldn't be able to do it, afraid that I was going to let the whole team down, afraid that my fear was going to put me out of a job. I knew I had to bite the bullet and just do it.

I had to sketch.




Sounds real scary, doesn't it?

You see, when I was in college and was taking the one drawing class required for my major, I had a teacher who erased one of my drawings and redid it, while not even looking at the girl who's profile I had been drawing. I was so upset I was shaking mad. And right then and there was planted a seed of "I can't draw."

I'm not the kind of person to blame each of my failings on some event in the past that scarred me. I know there is more to my fears than that one incident with that one teacher. There is that in me that resists trying harder, attempting new and challenging things and overcoming hurdles that seem too high.

It's largely pride…this fear of failure. I don't want to be humiliated by what I cannot do, so I continue to do the things I know I can do.

But lately, I have not been allowed to just keep on plodding at the same level. I am being stretched, forced outside of the safe, successful boundaries I have lived within for so long.

I'm glad I've been stretched. Because, you see, I have learned that I can sketch. It may not be as good as many others can, and I have a long way to go before I can look at a scene or an object and get all the perspectives correct, but I can do it. I can do what needs to be done for this process. I can do the thing I truly thought I could not do.

Now what else am I claiming I can't do? How about you?

some living beauty

since there seems to be so much concern out there about the fact that I am receiving dead roses (!), i thought i'd post some photos of the live ones that surprised me on Monday.





the lilies are fascinating…watching them open and seeing how the pollen creeps up the stamen (is that what those things are called?) and then detaches itself. amazing how God has designed so many individual flowers to bloom and reproduce in such unique ways. there is so much to learn about creation and the Creator. i need to do some more research on my meet the artist thingy I want to do.

such a beautiful gift.

and I'm so grateful.