Friday, January 29, 2010

Snippets From Syd; Sneezy With a Chance of Meatballs

And it came to be, on a cold, cloudy day, a sneezing fit came over eight year old Sydney as we were seated at the table eating a lunch consisting of hamballs, parmesan pasta, and salad ~

aaaa-choo! #1

aaaa-choo! #2

aaaa-choo! #3

Sydney ran to the other room, retrieving a hankerchief and USING it, leaving the rest of us to finish our lunch.

And with each of us, taking a bite from our perspective plates, we heard ~

"Oh man, I have meatballs coming out of my nose..."

And the rest of us, simultaneously, laughed, shook our heads, and chalked it up to it simply being Sydney

Thursday, January 28, 2010

A Letter to Ladybug

My Dearest LadyBug,

You are eight years old right now. My how you're growing. Sometimes more quickly than I would like you to (or care to admit). It looks like [at this point] you will be our second and last baby and although you will continue to grow, I will never stop thinking of you as my "baby". However...
Recently you had a very restless night sleep. Up and down all night - back and forth, back and forth to your room I traveled through the dimly lit house. One o'clock am, two o'clock am, and finally at three o'clock am I decided I would simply stay in your room with you - to save myself, yet, another journey to and fro.

I gently prompted you to move over and squeezed, comfortably beside you in the small twin bed. I quietly prayed in your ear and whispered the words of Jesus Love Me and Amazing Grace. You whispered [sang] it with me for quite some time (my how you love to sing), but finally you fell fast asleep curled up next to me, holding my hand tightly.

As you slumbered, I watched you. I watched and remembered. How tiny your hands used to be. So tiny that your entire fist couldn't muster enough girth to embrace my one finger. But now, you've grown ~ still growing. You no longer need me to nurse you. You no longer need me to lace your shoes. You no longer even need me to help you write your name. And as I lay there next to my "baby" and stroked the still soft skin of your hand - I was taken back in time and for a moment you needed me as much at that moment as the day you were born.

Your hand didn't, at that moment, seem as big as it usually does. Your nose was still a cute little button decorating your face, and your lips - still the shape of a petite little heart. And right then - I felt God slow the clock for me - to bask in remembrances of a time that I thought I'd allowed to slip away - to be forgotten.

And it was at that moment that it occurred to me - you ARE still my "baby" and you DO still need me - only in differing ways. Yesterday I kissed boo-boo's all better, today I look at the toads you catch, and tomorrow I'll hold the blessed child that will so remind me of you when you were a baby - your daughter, my grand "baby".

I fell asleep that night resting in the love that I have for you and thanking God that He gave you to me. That I was allowed the privilege to be your Momma, to teach you the things of Him. And for now and evermore - I'll love you just as if you were my "baby".

I love you.

Friday, January 08, 2010

What it Takes to Be a Real Indian

To be a real, true to life Indian it takes the ingenuity to fashion a bow and arrow from an old wooden coat hanger that was headed to the burn pile, sharpies, stickers, and a stick found on a nature hike last summer.

The dedication to head out into the cold, cold, cold winter weather to be one with nature ~ feeding all the birds by way of a homemade bird feeder suspended from one of Dad's bungee cords :o)

The new cute-as-can-be haircut, purple unicorn pj's {with matching sequined arrow holder}, blue robe, and red wagon only adds to the authenticity of it all.

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