Moonlight

Kendra is here.  We get up to leave avec littles in T-4.5 hours to drive and see our sister and her family for a couple of days.  A check mark on a summer list of fun-to-be-had, for sure.  But so much more for me...

I am terrible at keeping in touch with those I love.  People become so dear to me, threads of their lives weave into mine, becoming impossible to ever remove them from my life's tapestry. 

I wouldn't be who I am without them.  Friends who steadied my hand in major life decisions.  Family who accepted, forgave, and loved, no penance required.  We've laughed and cried together.  We've dreamed and failed along side each other.  We've listened to Mazzy Star on back country roads and John Denver around campfires together.  We've rolled up sleeves and worked side by side. 

And then life shifts; forks in the road separate our close-knit lives.  Different destinies, experiences, friendships.  And as distance grows, I let those I love slip away into the night with thoughts similar to a song I sang in elementary school choir:

I see the moon

The moon sees me

Down through the leaves

of the old oak tree

Please let the light that shines on me

Shine on the one I love.

I wish them well, these people I love.  I quietly keep them close to my heart, loyal to the grave.  But it's time to do more.  To do more than wish them happy and fulfilled in their parts of the world.  It's time to make some noise.

It's time to write letters, dial phone numbers, skype with family in New Zealand and California, set up play-dates, plan road trips to Indiana and Iowa and Georgia.  'Cuz people we love?  They aren't replaceable.  And they matter more than the time and space that has weeded over hearts.

Much more to be said, but I'm approaching T-4 hours now and my body is screaming at me for some sleep. 

Edie and Si playing "go na-night."  Edie gives kisses before tucking Silas in.

So good night Moon; good night. 

Spectrum

When Jon and I first got married our home was...beige.  Antiqued white apartment walls, tan couches, espresso coffee table, cream and flax dining table (though calling it a "dining table" is a definite exaggeration - think one up from t.v. tray...)  Our bathroom towels, dish rags - tan.  And our duvet?  Our bedding to scream newlywed-ed romance?  Yep, you guessed it...oatmeal.  Oh, yeah, I did have a few red pillows.  Annnnd our carpet was blue. 

I'm half laughing as I write this; the other half is somewhere on the I'm-mortified-I-just-said-that-out-loud scale.  Back then, I would have told you that I just wanted something I'd love in 10, 20 years.  'Cuz obviously...oatmeal is timeless.

Retrospect whispers, as it often does, that I was afraid.  I was afraid of committing to a color and hating it.  Afraid of mistake.  Afraid of driving my husband crazy with my indecision.  So I played nice...safe...tan.

I'm not sure when the blues and greens and yellows and oranges bled through.  Maybe the tides of color rolled in with our kiddos, who's laughter and adventure and spitfire are anything but beige. 

Maybe it's the women I call friends who've taught me so much about living in a home, and letting that life show, dirty kitchen, trail of toys, and all.  Maybe it's that I have changed - far less worried about mistakes.  Far more concerned about the alternative, which is to never try.  Whatever it is, I'm so glad I embraced the change and the color wheel.

Can I just say how much this applies to life?  We can choose to befriend those like us.  We can choose to view the differences between our spouses and ourselves negatively.  We can squelch the uniqueness in our littles, expecting them to conform to miniature versions of ourselves.  But wouldn't that all be very...vanilla?

Once again, Jon and I find ourselves surrounded by antiqued white walls of rented space.  It's where we are for now, but that's okay - color finds a way.  Trim added to curtains, dining chairs recovered, furniture painted are all on the list of to-dos.

Fabric for 2 of our 6 chairs.  Each chair gets it's own fun pattern.


First on the list of furni-paint is this new-to-us piece I found on Craigslist.  We needed more storage in the kitchen; this fits the bill perfectly.

Map of India, momento my grandpa brought back from a trip; string of birds, World Market.

I'm thinking mustard, fresh green, maybe even teal.  I might hate and change it; that's okay.

Farewell beige, tan, flax, oatmeal.  Hello color.  Hello mis-step.  Hello different.  Hello life.

Eden Lael

(So does "I'll be back tomorrow" mean, "I'll post another blog entry before I go to bed tomorrow"?  If it does, than I so made my deadline. 

I hope that's what it means.)

Birthdays are precious.  They mark a day in time, and each year we celebrate it's anniversary - the anniversary reminding us that life is a gift and that this particular life is special to us.

Our kids begin their day with banners and balloons, mini M&M pancakes, and their birthday song,  (Si's is Birthday by The Beatles; Edie's is Happy Birthday by The Innocence Mission.)

This year our girl turned 3 and, being the very big three-year-old that she is, was helping in the kitchen.  Each M&M was carefully and methodically placed. 

Her birthday party will come later; we opt for the quiet of home on the actual day, so her day continued on simply, filled with family stopping in and the little things our girl loves: a trip to the store, time outside, tea parties, chicken nuggets, mac-n-cheese, melon, and of course cake and candles - the only thing she said she wanted for her birthday this year.  (Did we luck out or what?)

I cannot believe I've been a mom for three years.  Am I old enough for that?  Wise enough?

It felt like it would never happen.  After 9 months of pregnancy and planning and 17 hours of labor, I couldn't wait to meet our daughter, to hold her, to see the face of the child that I already knew. 

Photo by Kenna.

And then, just like that, she was born: Eden entered our world on July 9 at 7:45 p.m.  And for such a tiny person, she sure took up a whole lotta room in our hearts.

Jon and I do not wear the label "parent" lightly.  We believe these littles, these precious souls that sleep under our roof, have been entrusted to us.  But they do not belong to us.  They will always belong to the One who dreamed them up.  The One who formed them and shaped them as they grew inside of me.  The One who painted them with personality and tendency and weakness, unique little people that grace our beige home with color and life.

You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body

and knit me together in my mother’s womb...
You watched me as I was being formed in utter seclusion,

as I was woven together in the dark of the womb.
You saw me before I was born.

Psalm 139.13,15,16

Photo by Kenna.

Photo by Kenna.

Photo by Meiks.

And so we named her Eden Lael:

EDEN (EE den)

(Hebrew)

Paradise; delight.

LAEL (LAY el)

(Hebrew)

Belonging to God; of God.

a daily reminder that she is His garden and that we have been trusted to weed and water, prune and plant, to enable her to grow and become who she was created to be. 

Thank Heaven indeed. 

Our lives would be incomplete without you, Eden.  We love you so.  May our Good God always be delighted with you and may you always be delighted with Him.

Three

Our first baby turned three.

We debated over gift options.  I researched customer reviews 'cuz I'm a nerd like that.  And you know what gift she loved most?  Which gift she kept coming back to?  The Target dollar bin dry erase board I bought on a whim today so we could work on letters together.

And in this place where we so often define ourselves by our occupations, hobbies, and all the busy ways we filled up our weekends, I'm once again learning from this little person to enjoy the simple.  To relish the little nothings that add up to a whole lotta somethings.

I'll be back tomorrow to share more about this little girl who made us parents, about her name and why we chose it, about what we hope for her future, about how we celebrated her life today. 

Happy Birthday to our Edie-Bird!


P.S. Bit of family history: Three Little Birds was Eden's favorite song as a baby.  Cured many a fussy night.

P.P.S. Welcome to my new followers: Lauren, Nicole, Heather & Caroline!  So happy to have you all walk with me in this journey of becoming...

A Thousand Words

Our week...in (mostly Instagram) pictures.

Summer Table



Anthropologie's Aloha Orchid...J'adore.



Shopping with Daddy is fun!  And can I just say how these take me back?



"I'll do my hair all by myself, Mom."



Dinner with Jon's work at P.F. Changs.



Holla!  I'm back to taking walks with the kids!



Little garden helper #1.



Little garden helper #2.



Saturday we set out to do some exploring in our new city, no set destination - just jumped in the car and drove off in search of an artisan coffeehouse to frequent as a family.  Thunder and lighting argued above us, but we didn't mind. 

We ended up in The Short North.  Let me tell you, it took me by the hand, spung me around a couple times, and won my heart with its boutiques, Victorian architecture, and weathered brick.  I was swooning - a few hours was not enough time spent.  Didn't find "our spot" but the coffee was good and the time together was fun.



A little window shopping...  "Ball," says Si.



Sunday we set out to check off one of the items on our summer list: a drive-in with my family, a summer tradition growing up and our kids' maiden voyage to the silver screen under starry sky. 

The overnight did not go as planned.  Half an hour into the movie, Eden was running a fever and I left with the kids.  My travel toothbrush tasted like perfume.  We nixed our splash pad and fireworks plans the next day and headed home for a quiet, just-us-Happy-Fourth-of-July celebration. 

Jon scavenged the locals stores for sparklers.  Not an easy feat on July 4.  But he came home victorious.

And though I have no photographic evidence to show you, Si added two words to his vocab this week: "roar" and "choo choo".  He roars all the time now, even at thunder.  LOVE.

In the aftermath of this holiday weekend, I'm thankful.  Thankful for long weekends together, for summer fun and for the men and women that continue to protect our nation's freedom.  Thank you Armed Forces.  And a very special thank you to the families (many dear ones I know) that sacrifice their loved ones and family time for this land that, though imperfect, we love.



Happy July, all!