Dancing Queen

Any of you who are fans of Ellen DeGeneres will love these. I don’t watch Ellen every day, but yesterday Leah wasn’t feeling good, so we were having a pretty low-key day together, snuggling in the recliner for most of the afternoon. At one point, she started to squirm some; I put her on the floor and she went over to play with her toys. When Ellen came on, though…toys, shmoys! She loved Ellen’s monologue, but got distracted at one point by her ball laying nearby. (Babies aren’t known for their attention spans.) Once she heard the music start up, though, and Ellen started dancing, up Leah went. She stood and shook her little bottom while Ellen danced all over the studio. You wouldn’t know she had a fever! It was too precious – I’m thinking of sending these in to Ellen.

Sorry they’re so dark – I didn’t want to distract her with the flash.

When She Doesn’t Know I’m There

I love watching Leah when she doesn’t know I’m there.

When she sees me watching her, she sometimes tries to put on a show, or is too preoccupied by my presence to play and be herself. When she doesn’t know I can see her, though, she’s just her. She’s just Leah, completely natural and uninhibited.

She loves to play with her toes. Sometimes she lifts her legs high up over her head and watches her feet hovering above her, and sometimes she draws her toes up to her mouth and sucks on them. If she has shoes on, they are mesmerizing to her; if the shoes have laces, it is only a matter of time before those laces make their way into her mouth, too.

She loves to talk to herself and to her toys and to her feet…… She just loves to talk, babbling on saying, “Oooohhhhh,” and “Aaaaaaaaaaaahhhh,” and “Dapadapdapadapapadada,” and “nananananana.” Sometimes she says "Mamamamamamamamama," too, but I'm not completely convinced she knows what she's saying.

She adores tags. Tags on her blankets, tags on her toys, tags on her clothes…tags of any kind. She loves them. If I hear a simple, “Ooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhh,” repeated over and over, I can bet she has a tag in her mouth. I’m so thankful that I didn’t cut the tags off everything she owns before she got to this stage.

She loves to cruise around the family room. She’ll start at the big bumper pillow I have in front of the entertainment center and cruise along the length of that. When she reaches the end, she grabs onto her PackNPlay railing and cruises from there. From there she’ll often go to the bookshelf nearby. If she falls at any point along this journey, she makes a little frustrated noise and crawls back to the beginning. It’s like she’s testing herself.

Sometimes she gets completely focused and distracted by the tiniest things. There is a tiny piece of clear thread that is sticking out of the side of our area rug, and she always finds that little piece of fishing line and fiddles with it. She can spot a fuzz ball from 100 yards away. When we go outside, she spots the one bug on the sidewalk and makes a beeline. A tiny splatter of baby food on her high chair tray is enough to distract her from eating any more. To say she has a great “attention to detail” would be an understatement.

She often points to things…but looks at her finger as it points, rather than at the thing she’s pointing at.

She really seems to love music. Music on commercials on TV are mesmerizing to her, calling her attention from whatever she’s doing until it’s over. Sometimes she even does a little dance, bouncing on her knees and shaking her little bottom. Usually, she’ll clap, too.

I just love watching her. Every day she learns something new, and every day she becomes more and more of a little person. Her personality is so evident, and I can’t wait to see more and more of it emerge. At the same time, though, I can wait. I can wait and wait.

“When We Were Little” Wednesday: Halloween Edition

When I was little, I loved me some Halloween. Much thought was put into my costumes every year, though many years I landed on the traditional witch getup, pointy hat and all.

(I’m trying not to draw any connection between me being a mean ol’ witch and Ashley being the cute little clown girl….)

Another favorite and recurring costume was that of the cavegirl, which – I cannot believe – I don’t have a picture of. That one was done for several years in a row, I think, and it involved an animal print little toga looking thingy, black tights (because it was a little chilly and I was modest), and bracelets that looked like bones. Yeah. One year I was also a bunny rabbit (stark contrast to the other costumes, no?). Apparently, too, I was a clown at some point.

Who knows? That one might not have even been Halloween. =)

Halloween traditions in my family included: Halloween chili supper and carnival at my school (to which we got to wear our costumes!), hot dog supper the night of Halloween, trick or treating in the neighborhood. In some of my really early years, Mom and Dad really did the house up real fancy like, with lights and music and lots of creepy stuff.

Watch out for pictures of Leah’s first costume, coming next week. It’s just too cute.

Synchrony

Recently Scott and I went to an air show here in town. Scott, having grown up around airplanes and different aspects of aviation, was less enthralled by the stunts of the pilots than he was at the childlike enthusiasm of his wife, who had never seen anything like that. I loved it. I stared, mouth agape, as the planes zoomed overhead and dipped down low. My stomach would leap when the pilots’ planes rolled, and I would gasp during each nosedive as though I had never seen it before.

The most phenomenal part of it all, though, was the amazing synchrony of the pilots and their planes as they flew in formation. The planes moved as though they were one, zipping and dipping and plunging and racing through the sky together. We spectators didn’t know what was going to come next, but because of their synchrony of thought and the infinite hours of practice that had gone into making the routine become second nature, the pilots didn’t have to think much about how to pull it all off. The communicated with each other through their on-board radios, but they were one in their thinking; their actions reflected that, forming a beautiful display for everyone watching.

As I thought about it all later, I was struck again by what I had seen and thought about what it must take to become one in thought with another person in that way. The pilots obviously had spent hours together in practice, but most likely, their relationship doesn’t stay on the airstrip when they go home at night. In all likelihood, the two share meals together, talk about their wives and their families and their day jobs, and enjoy other pastimes together. They put effort into their relationship because the display, which everyone sees, depends on it.

For those of us who enjoy the blessing of marriage, there is a lesson here for us. We have united with another person in a covenant relationship that is about more than the two of us. Our marriages are bigger than ourselves. The relationship of marriage is a demonstration of Jesus’ relationship with the church, and the strength of our marriages is crucial for conveying the Lord’s love for the world. As other people look at our marriages, they see God, and it is up to us to make sure that what they see is accurate.

A caveat, though: this is not something that can be faked. Just like the pilots could never fake the synchronization of their actions, we cannot fake the unity we experience in our marriages. We cannot create a perfect facade if the underlying relationship is far from ideal. It simply is not possible, so please do not gather from what I am saying that we should “fake it” so that people think we have wonderful marriages. Rather, we all need to realize that marriage takes work, and that none of us – none of us – is exempt from the effort required to make our marriages an accurate reflection of God’s love for the world. We must put time, effort, and energy into them if we want them to be beautiful. Beauty simply cannot be faked. Beauty reflects what lies under the surface. Is your marriage beautiful from the inside out? Can the word “beauty” describe what people see when they look at your relationships with your husbands? What do you need to work on to make it so?

For this reason a man will leave his father and his mother and be united with his wife, and they will become one flesh. (Genesis 2:24)

Invisible

“You can’t see me!”

“You FOUND me!”

Sunday Afternoon

I think there are few things as frustrating to me as a Sunday afternoon.

On Sunday mornings, I am overwhelmed with emotion. I am inspired and clear-minded, full of ideas to write about and specific prayer and praise themes to address in my personal time with God. I squirm in my seat during church not because I want it to end, but because I have so much going on in my mind and in my heart that I cannot possibly sit still. In those moments, I am not as much Scott’s wife and Leah’s mom and Linda’s daughter (and on and on) as I am simply a daughter of God. The Father speaks to me, and I long to speak back.

And then it does end. The benediction is spoken, the band plays its “outro” music, we are wished a blessed week…and life comes back. Suddenly, my role as a child of God is replaced by my role in life on this planet, and it all rushes back in. The inspiration lingers, though faint, and I maintain hope that I’ll be able to get my ideas expressed – in prayer or on paper – before they disappear completely.

But then we have lunch.

And I have a meeting.

And the drive home.

And things at home need to be done before Monday…and before long, I realize that it’s gone. The clarity of thoughts in my mind fade as quickly as the sacred music that filled the worship space. The beauty is replaced by clutter, and again Scott’s wife and Leah’s mom wait for Sunday morning and the clarity and sanctity of time as God’s child.

That is why I fast: to bring a little of Sunday morning into my every day. I have to believe that it is possible.

Fall Family Fun

Black Box

Several weeks ago on a Saturday morning, Scott and Leah were playing in the kitchen when I, seeing the opportunity to check my email and blog, grabbed my laptop and sat down at the kitchen table. As we often do (and soon will not have to do any more), Scott “spoke for” Leah, saying, “What’s that, Mama? Daddy, Mama’s got that black box again…” He meant nothing by it; he was only attempting to verbalize what seemed to be on her little face as she curiously watched me. However, what he (she?) said made me think, and it has haunted me ever since.

My computer is my biggest “time suck,” as I call it. When I look back over my day and wonder where the time went, the answer often enough lies on my computer. Blog posts, comments on others’ blogs, emails, random web searches, edited pictures…. It pains me to admit it, but my preoccupation with my computer is unhealthy and, perhaps, detrimental to the other things in my life that should take a position of priority.

When airplanes go down, leaving few or no survivors, those investigating the cause of the crashes search for the black boxes. These black boxes record the last few minutes of the plane’s flight time, showing all stats and figures of the aircraft and, usually, revealing what went wrong and caused the plane’s downfall. I fear that my computer – this device that occupies a position of priority on my lap – could be the little black box of all that is important in my life. If Leah grows up thinking that Mama always had something else to do rather than spend time with her, the reason for her feeling that way could be found in the black box. If my marriage to Scott never becomes all that God would have it to be, the black box would probably hold the answer to that mystery. If my book never gets written and I never fulfill the purpose I feel God has placed on my life, the black box could explain why it never happened. If Jesus becomes a casual acquaintance rather than a beloved confidant, the black box would show why.

Friends, I don’t want my life to crash and burn, and for those left in the aftermath to look to the black box and nod in understanding. I don’t want my computer to be nurtured and filled with my devotion while the other areas of my life suffer as a result.

One night in cell group, the question was raised, “If someone from another world were to observe your life, what would they assume your dreams are?” The question, in other words, was, “Are your actions reflecting all that you want your life to be about? Are you spending time on what’s most important to you?”

For me, the answer must be a resounding and shameful, “No.” What about you?

If someone were to take apart your life and investigate why you were never all that you could have been, or why things fell apart, where would they find the answers? Is your time spent on what’s most important?

Because the honest answer to those questions, for me, is not pretty, something must change. Because I must get serious about what is important, I am going to utilize a three-week period of fasting in my church to refocus. For three weeks, I will do my very best focus on 4 things:

1 – My relationship with the Lord.

2 – My marriage.

3 – My daughter.

4 – My writing career.

It is my hope that by doing so for a few weeks, this will become a well-ingrained habit. I must focus on God first, and I suspect that the others will fall into place after that. My marriage, right now, is wonderful, but let’s be honest – there’s always work to be done as I seek to be the wife God needs me to be for my husband. My daughter is still very little, and the time I spend with her now is crucial to her growth and development. My writing career is in its infancy and must be nurtured carefully or it will not survive.

During this time of refocusing, I will continue to write here, as I consider this a big part of my writing career and pretty important to my sanity. However, you will notice a shortage of my comments on your own blogs, as I will not be allowing myself to wander into the vortex of the internet, getting lost and forgetting what I’m supposed to be doing. Please, friends, don’t think I don’t care about what you have going on in your lives, or that I won’t miss you. I do and I will. I simply have to refocus. I'm going to shy away from TV and email and anything else that might pull me from these focus points. I have to do this.

If you think of it, pray for me as I take this little “praycation,” as I’m calling it. This is going to be a test of my strength and will. Hopefully, though, it will also be life changing.

To Mamas With Babies:

Wondering what to do with your little one this Saturday?

Get that baby to a pumpkin patch! We’ve visited two already this week, and I have a feeling we’re not finished yet….

We’re both having too much fun!

(I spared you. I have 200+ pictures, but opted not to include them all. But oh my stars….they’re so good….she is a darling.)

(And a note to the grandparents.....all 200+ pictures are available on disk. It's coming soon.)

Sharing

“Hmm….what’s this?”

“Oohhhh…..it’s a COOKIE! It tastes good. I like cookies.”

“Hey, look! There’s Kitter! I’ll bet Kitter likes cookies, too. Hey, Kitter! Kit-ter…!”

“Hey, Kitter…you wanna cookie? You want some of my cookie?”

“No? Okay then….how ‘bout you, Mama? You want some of my cookie?”

“Nobody wants any of my cookie. That’s okay.”

“More for me.”