Twenty-five months

My dear Ayla,

You are two now. Two and a month, technically.

Two (and too) is your favorite word. You worked so hard to learn how to show two with your fingers, and though you can say your whole name, when someone asks what your name is, you proudly say, “TWO!” I gotta admit, even with all the new challenges this age brings, it’s my favorite one so far, too.

Speaking of, you’re really into the word and concept of “too.” “Mocha go nigh-night too!” “Daddy eat too!” “Mommy go pee pee too!” (We’ll get to the potty training fun we’ve been having later.) You’re good at doing things by yourself, but if you can get someone (or someanimal as it often is the case) else to do it “too,” you’re thrilled.

When people were asking me what you were into for birthday present choosing, it was hard to answer. What aren’t you into? You love everything outdoors and moving, just like your parents. You love building towers with your blocks or tea set, throwing balls around and asking “where are you?” as you chase them, and jumping on mommy and daddy’s bed. You love to color, though coloring for you is mostly handing me the crayon and telling me what to draw. I don’t mind. I like to draw for you. I’m getting pretty good at the kitties and doggies you always “request.” You love animals, your toys and real ones.

You love singing and anything having to do with music. We get a kick out of you singing along at bedtime now and the repertoire of songs you know is growing daily. Now that Daddy has his keyboard set up, you constantly try to play the “pinano” with him (or by yourself).

You love to read. I am amazed at how fast you learn your books and it’s been fun to have you participate in the reading. We’ve consented to letting you have a book in bed with you when you go to sleep, and it’s the book that usually wins over the animals for cuddling when you finally conk out.

You’re a bit of an adrenaline junky. You build obstacles for yourself and your toys to climb over, and you’ve discovered about 15 different ways to get down your slide.

 Almost every day, you successfully convince your daddy to give you plenty of “weeee,” which can mean anything from spinning you around in a laundry basket, to throwing you up high in the air, to helping you do somersaults. We’re both cherishing these days before you get too big for this.

Oh, but you are a big girl now. We still have you rear-facing in the car, since you’re only 25 pounds, and you still sleep in your crib (though you are getting close to climbing out). But we’ve said goodbye to diapers (except for sleeping) and you always remind me, “no pee pee in panties!” when you’re getting dressed.  I am SO proud of you for learning how to use the big potty and for telling us when you need to go. I figured if you could learn to play games on my iPhone in less than 30 seconds, you could be potty trained, and I was right!

Right now you’re learning what “my” and “mine” mean and what they don’t mean. Play dates can get a little tense when you insist that your friends’ toys are yours, or when you’re not ready to share toys that actually are yours. Wise friends have reminded me that we all went through this phase, and some grownups are still in it, so I have hope you’ll learn that sharing and giving is more fun than keeping something to yourself. I can’t say that I mind too much, though, when you refer to us as “MY mommy” and “MY daddy!”

I don’t know if there’s a technical term for being mentally organized, but I think you might be that. You process information very well in lists. I often hear you reciting lists, such as the activities available at the playground, the friends you played with in various settings, the elements of a good birthday party, or the rules about spitting. This translates to physical organization too, as you are my big helper with putting toys away in the correct box. You keep this up and I’m going to put you in charge of my closet!

I can’t capture everything about you in words, and even if I could I probably wouldn’t want to take the time away from being with you to record it all. Realistically, I probably won’t be blogging about you for the rest of your childhood. You’ll have to share some of the spotlight with future brothers and sisters and maybe someday you’ll even have a blog of your own.

For now, though, I still find myself watching you in awe and gratitude. You are mine. Don’t you ever doubt or forget that!

How to tell it- Side Two

(See Side One here)

I am a hoarder.

Of people.

Seriously, I have more people in my life who love me and whom I love than any one person should be allowed to have.

Just for example, my thank-you list for baby gifts is 74 people long. I don’t know the average, (I could make something up) but that seems really high to me!

These are people who when I asked if someone knew a teenager I could hire to weed my yard, snuck over to do it before I even woke up (a colonel's wife, no less!). Who show up at church with a Starbucks frappuccino for me, just because they were thinking I might need one. (I did!) Who hear that my baby is sick and offer to make me some chicken soup. Who beg to watch Ayla for me so I can go run errands or go out with other people.

(sounds like someone's primary love language has become acts of service)

The people who are related to me, either by genetics, marriage or choice (you know, the fremily type, not to be confused with frenemy) are the dream team of a family. They believe in me, encourage me and forgive far more than you can imagine. (well, several of you reading this are in this category, so I guess you actually can imagine)

This people-hoarder phenomenon became apparent to me in John’s absence. When he was here, after we'd spend time with friends, we used to look at each other and say, “We know the best people in the world!” I had no idea how true that was until this year.

I don't think you really know how good your friends are until you need them.

I think his absence also paints a sort-of target on me that makes me more visible to others, more a subject needing friendship and support. I haven't always been super comfortable being on the receiving end of that, but I am learning the joy of being receptive to such things.

Because he’s gone, I’ve been able to travel across town and across country with Ayla to visit lots of these people. I've stayed in your homes, eaten your food, thrown poopy diapers away in your trashcans. I marvel at the friendships that have seemingly bloomed from nowhere (like a Craigslist ad) and others that flourish under newly-available intentionality.

Every night when I put Ayla to bed, I start our prayer by thanking God for the people we've been able to see or talk to that day. And almost every day since John's been gone, one of your names have come across my lips. 

“Wait a minute!” you’re thinking. “Why is she talking about people when she’s supposed to be talking about the other side of the coin today?”

This IS the other side of the coin. On this side there is an image of me (still holding the drooling baby girl) surrounded by this great cloud of iron witnesses/supporters/cheerleaders.

I am not alone.

Oh, and I have an amazing daughter.

This may have been selfish of us, but we prayed for an easy baby. God went over and above that with her. I know He gave us the daughter we needed and threw in a bunch of features to bless others as well. She is healthy, sweet, funny, outgoing and pretty stinking cute.

I write about her more than anything else, so I won’t belabor it here, but my gratitude that I get to spend all day most days with this precious gift pulses through me as steadfastly as my own blood.

(Ok, maybe I will write just a little bit more about her)

I do dread the day in the future when she doesn’t think I’m the greatest thing in the world. When she’s too cool for me, when I embarrass her, when she knows more than I do, when I disappoint or fail her, you know, when she’s a teenager. I don’t think anything I do this year or ever will guarantee we will always have a perfect relationship. What I do know is that this is a special time. These days, even without John, are gifts. I feel like the luckiest person on the planet.

And of course, there’s God. 

(my atheist readers will just have to skip ahead)

At the end of John’s gospel he wrote that if each thing that Jesus had done on the earth were to be written about, the world could not contain all the books. I know he’s using hyperbole to make a point, but I can relate terms of recording what God is doing in me during this separated year. I don’t know how much of it I will be able to or want to write about.

What I can tell you now is that He is here.

He is loving. He is active. He is in control. He is generous and comforting. What I know most of all, though, right now, is that He is here.

So on one side of the coin there is Absence and on the other there is all this

Presence.

I can’t be thankful for just one side and hate the other. It is all the same thing.

Of course, what I have in Presence with me will remain when John is home. But my sense of these Presences is heightened because of his absence.

Joy and pain, gratitude and sorrow. These are not opposites. They are notes in a chord. Threads of a cord. They are inseparable and necessary for me this year.

This is how I am doing. 

I am okay. I miss John. I am blessed.

(Join me tomorrow for My Digital Marriage.)

How to tell it- Side One

Their eyes would find me. They’d stop what they were doing to come close.

Voices dropped, nearly whispered,

“How are you do-ing?”

You know the scene.  You were probably in it.

The first few weeks after John left, I started to dread this scene because it happened all the time. Several times a day, sometimes, when I was in a group.

In a group of friends. Who love me. Who were there for me. Who were there for me when I cried.

Which is what I did every time someone asked me that.

(Can I just tell you, I hate crying in front of people!)

It wasn’t that I was doing so horrible at that moment that tears just burst out. It was that talking about it, making the words come out--which made it even more real than just living it--was hard.

Hell, (can I say that here?) living it was hard. Trying to express myself in a soundbite was hard enough to make me cry.

“I’m ok. I miss him,” I’d choke out.

And then quickly laughing to break the sadness of the moment, adding “But we’re good. We’re so blessed.”

I get about here in telling this story and I vacillate. There are two parts of the story to tell. It’s a well-worn coin twisted round and round between my fingers, dropped on the floor, lost in pockets, but always there, each side as real as the other.

On one side is an image of me with empty arms. Well, one arm is actually full of a baby girl who probably has some piece of me or her in her mouth. 

(But, see, even there I am showing you part of the other side already.)

It’s important to tell this, though. I doubt I’ll ever forget it, but this, as hard and not-awesome as it is, is part of the fabric. Like the tearful-but-beautiful years of infertility, this time isn’t something to be rushed through or just “hung in there.”

I do miss my John. Severely. I do feel quite empty without him.

My life is supposed to have him in it, he’s supposed to be here in this house, with me. He’s supposed to come home at the end of the day and kiss me. He’s supposed to help me unload the groceries from the car. He’s supposed to be standing by me at church and slip his arm around me and squeeze my shoulder and in that, tell me everything.

I clench and flex my fists, trying to work the pain of emptiness away. I squeeze my eyes shut tight, because maybe when I open them this will be over. I try to mute that track that plays over and over, screaming in my mind,

“I don’t like this! I want him here! This isn’t right!”

I hold our daughter and ache for him not being able to do the same.  

You can’t look at Ayla for very long without smiling, though, and as my mouth turns up, that coin starts its rotation again.

(Tune in tomorrow for Side Two)

A Letter from Daddy (Part 2)

(Read the first part here)

...

First, the comfortable, easy and safe road is not always the right one. To choose a path based on what feels best is to serve oneself – which is not how we are designed to live. If you serve only your needs, you’ll never grow, you’ll never experience God’s best for you, and you’ll miss out on many of life’s most precious rewards. This is as true for an individual as it is for a family. The rain is sweetest when you are parched. Being with those you love is more delightful when you’ve missed them dearly. 

Another twist on the same truth is to see the difference between peace and safety. This German guy I’ll teach you a lot about said this: “There is no way to peace along the way of safety. For peace must be dared. It is the great venture. It can never be safe. Peace is the opposite of security. To demand guarantees is to want to protect oneself. Peace means to give oneself altogether to the law of God, wanting no security, but in faith and obedience, laying the destiny….in the hand of the Almighty God, not trying to direct it for selfish purposes.” 

The second thing is this: I am not your ultimate Provider. It is true that I am a primary conduit of provision for you, for now. It is a magnificent and humbling privilege to be entrusted with your life. But I do not have within me all that you need. Though I will want to, I will not always be there when you need me. I will not always say or do the right things. But your heavenly Father will never fail you. He is your True Source and He is always enough. As long as you abide in Him, you will lack nothing. In fact, all that I have comes from Him, and so everything I give to you, I give from what He has given to me. (The same is true, as it turns out, between your mom and me.)

 This doesn’t absolve me of the responsibility to care for you, to be with you, and to teach you the ropes – and I pledge my life to do this with all that I am. But as we embark on this year on opposite sides of the world, I do so with the certainty that God will provide all that you need, and more. I even pray that out of our sacrifice, we will be blessed in ways that we cannot now imagine. 

You are such a precious gift. I cherish you and adore you and am so thankful for you. I hope you will understand, one day, all that I am saying. I ask you to forgive me where I fall short, and for the costly time we are apart. I pray a Father’s blessing over you. I pray your days, especially over this next year, are filled with the greatest joys and that you have all that you need. I pray that your body grows and develops as it should, that you are healthy and safe from all harm.  I know that you will do a great job taking care of mommy.

Don’t stop laughing and smiling, and bringing joy to everyone you meet. 

I love you more than you can now know.  I miss you and can’t wait to see you soon. 

Your Daddy

A Letter from Daddy

Dear Daughter,

I like the idea of being the first boy to write you a letter. That’s cool. I beat all them other suckers to the punch. (That aint all I’ll beat them suckers to either, if need be.) I have so much to say to you; so much on my mind and in my heart that I want you to know. About me, about life, God, relationships, your mom, your history and future. About boys and hunting and camping and guns (your mom can teach you about the girly stuff). About what’s right and wrong and good and fun and bad. But, we’ve got lots of time for all of that. 

Or do we? 

I pray we do. I dream of taking you on dates, just me and you. I can see us now, cruising down the open road on my Harley, or doing just about whatever you want to be doing – as long as we are together. I look forward to talking with you about the things in life that matter most, whether you are five for 15 or 25. I hope and deeply long for these rich days ahead, but I also know what I don’t know: what tomorrow holds. 

No one knows what tomorrow or this week or this month or year has in store. Life is full of surprises, unexpected twists and turns, challenges and hardships, mountains and valleys. I thought I would only get to be with you for one month after you were born. But these nearly six months of your smiles and laughs and not-so-smelly (yet) diapers have been just marvelous.  You are so incredible, more so than your mom and I could have ever dreamed. So chill, so fun to be with, full of smiles and cute noises and love for everyone.

You see, our expectation for tomorrow or next week is based on our very limited and incomplete perspective. Most people aren’t that aware of this fact most of the time. We like to plan things out, to know (and decide) what’s next. Not knowing (or not controlling) the future makes most folks uneasy. But actually, we have no idea what is next whether we think we do or not, and we can learn the beauty in this Arrangement. We are Designed to trust the Maker of Days to arrange for life. He is good, and trustworthy, and kind. Together, I hope you and I can learn to truly abide and have full Joy in the each of our days: never presuming for tomorrow, but always in expectant hope for His goodness. 

With your half-birthday just two weeks away, I am about to leave you and your mom for a little while. Gulp. A year to be exact, minus three glorious three-week vacations. Though I don’t think you’ll remember missing me, I know you will. I know I will miss you. Oh boy do I know.  It hurts to leave.  Even now, I already have a tinge of regret for the precious days of your first year that will pass without me.  Your first words, first steps and so much more. You are growing so much day-to-day, week-to-week.

Why? Why does your daddy have to leave? Why can’t someone else go? Why can’t we have a normal life in an average town and just be together? These are good questions, and ones that I ask in some of the more frequent wavering moments I’ve had lately. Some days, I don’t want to be who I am. I don’t want to leave. I just want to be with you and your mom. Sure, this journey is full of adventure and travel and challenge and gratification, but it comes with a heavy dose of hardship and heartache, mainly from missing you and your mom. 

The answers to these "why" questions pull me in two directions. On one side, I long to be a faithful dad and husband. I must provide for you physically, emotionally, spiritually. I am supposed to teach you many things, and raise you to love people and God. On the other side, it seems, the path in front of me is taking me away from you, and from my ability to do these things. There’s important work to be done, and someone has to do it. This world you are growing up in is a mess, and I have the opportunity, in some small way, to help make it a better place. To do this, requires sacrifice not just for me, but for our family. This position between the two ends is not a comfortable or easy place to be.    

It boils down to two things that I hope one day you’ll understand. 

(To be continued...)

One Baby, Two Parents, Three Grandmas, Four Generations

Ayla has now had the fortune of meeting all of her living great grandmothers. When she was five weeks old, we took her to Texas, where she met John's paternal grandma, "MeMa"

and John's maternal grandma, "Great Grandma."

Then, last week, my wonderful mom took me to see Ayla's third great grandma in Arizona.

This is extra special because she is not my mom's mom. (Ayla will have to wait till heaven to meet her.) "Bubbie Min" is my dad's mom. Even 20+ years after my parent's divorce, my Grandma Min still calls my mom "Karen Darling" and introduces her as her third daughter. 

I am blessed to be related to all these amazing women. They've lived long, hard lives. They've loved strongly and lost so many. They've prayed over their children, welcomed their children's children and now they have spread their love over my daughter, too. 

I wonder if my mom was thinking the same thing I was? If she'd be posing for a four generation picture with my or my sibling's grandchildren? Will I be fortunate enough to meet Ayla's grandchildren? Time will tell, I suppose, but if I do, I will have to find some technology to pull up these old pictures and show them their heritage.

{Embrace} Seven Years and Cherry Blossoms

Dear Ayla,

The meaning of this moment is probably lost on you for right now, especially since you slept through most of it. But just as my participating in the Embrace movement is a way to record for you what your mommy looked and lived like when you were a baby, I want you to know your whole story, going back to how Mommy and Daddy fell in love.

Seven years ago this week, I was visiting friends in Washington, D.C. Two people I usually spent time with while here were Michael and John. This particular weekend Michael was busy, so John and I found things to do. (Now, I was not one of those girls you will meet who has more guy friends than girl friends, I just happened to get along well - in a strictly platonic sense mind you - with these two guys.)

One of the things your dad, (oops, getting ahead of myself here) John and I did was go for a motorcycle ride. That night we met up with a group of friends for dinner. After dinner, John said goodnight to me with a "holy half hug" (I'll tell you all about this later) and told me, "You're such a blessing."

(Yeah. Exactly!)

The next day, a beautiful spring Sunday, during church I noticed what an amazing smile John had.

(Anyway)

Since Michael was still busy that afternoon, John and I decided to go for a run around the National Mall.

Now, here's where it gets good. I had just trained for and run a half-marathon, so I was in pretty awesome shape. John, on the other hand, hadn't been running so much. Let's just say, I kicked his butt!

That, and the beauty of the in-full-bloom cherry blossoms surrounding this city's beautiful monuments and memorials, made this one of my favorite runs in my entire life. Afterwards, John and I rested under one of the trees and told each other our life stories, neither of us having any idea that soon and forever after this day our life stories would be intertwined.

(Photo taken March 28, 2004)

I told John on our way home that this was the kind of day to fall in love. I meant fall in love with Washington, D.C., of course, but we have to watch our words, baby girl!

Young John in his old Jeep Wrangler (Photo taken March 28, 2004)

Two weeks later we started dating, 16 months later we got married, and nearly 7 years later we were blessed with you.

So you see, my precious jewel, this is why your mommy and daddy will always try to take you to see the cherry blossoms. You never know, maybe you'll meet your own love there someday!

One thing I love about... Sundays

I go to a mom's group every other Monday.

I go to a women's Bible study every Thursday.

In both of these settings, I get to see my lady friends interact with their and other's children. And I love this and learn so much from them.

But here's one thing I love about Sundays:

What do you love about Sundays?

Now is later

I have been reminded that I promised to show you what we got each other for Valentine's Day.

And I will remind those people (moms and sisters mostly) that I said I would post it later, and later is whenever I say it is. And I say it's now.

 

I got John this Willow Tree figurine, because we have the couple, the pregnant mom and the mom with new baby, and he needed some representation up in our collection! Also, I had to get it because it looks like it was modeled after one of the pictures we love from Ayla's newborn photo shoot (even down to the colors!):

John got me this Lisa Leonard necklace. 

"Immah" is Hebrew for mother, the lesser known counterpart to "Abba." It also can mean, "with her," which takes on multiple meanings for us this year.

Ayla got her daddy the picture frame and picture you see in that first picture above. I'll be posting more pictures from her photo shoot in future blogs, but you can see several more on our talented photographer, Ryan Zook's, website. 

God got us all a new stroller (you can read the story here), so we all did pretty well!

Did you get or give anything fun or meaningful?

The gift, the puzzle, the story

Every day, I unwrap a new present. Every day, I start working on a new puzzle. Every day, I start reading a new story.

I watch her eyelids flutter open, tiny eyelashes on the verge of curling. Her mouth starts making its rounds, readying her tongue to bring breakfast in. Then, as I peel off her swaddling, her long arms jolt perfect hands to action. Unknowingly (or maybe just unknown to me), she starts conducting the beautiful music we'll sing and dance to together today. Her legs, so humanly frog-like, direct feet, once planted firmly in my ribs, in a rhythm all her own.

I pick up my precious gift and we start our dance of this day together. Like a video game outdated by the time she's old enough to play it, the dance is as much a game, a puzzle even, as art.

How long will you eat this time, baby? Which side will be your favorite? Are you really finished or just taking a break? Where is that burp, princess? I need to hear it before you get more. This worked yesterday, are you already that different? This morning you were snuggly, now you're acting like you drank 5-hour-energy. Will you want to be changed before you go to sleep, or will the cold air wake you up too much with hiccups and sobs? Will you sleep flat, roll to your side, demand to be held or just keep your beautiful eyes on me or your dad? How long will you sleep this time, my dear? Do I have time to take a nap or a shower, start some laundry, finish a meal snack bite? Yes, I'm laughing at your snores. Is there anything else to do about them? How did you get even cuter since lunch? Apparently, kissing your cheeks only makes them sweeter.

She answers me in coos and grunts and squeaks, and, yes, sometimes even cries. She tells me her story as best she can.

This story is both new and familiar. The characters, the plot twists, the adventures of the princess. All of them shifting slightly like the shadows of nursery curtains swaying to the fan's beat. It's all I can do to remember yesterday's version, which is already overgrown with the daughter of today. The end of each story is the same, a wonderful same I will never tire of.  She drinks me in and I eat her up. We change each other. Connect each other to life, now and to come.

This is life. A gift, a puzzle, a story full of love and mystery.

Mother-in-L(ove) - A Special Guest Blogger

{I had the great fortune to have my mother-in-law here for a week. I know many people who don't feel that way about their spouse's parents, but if you've ever met Cheryl, you know I won the mother-in-law lottery.

I asked assigned her to write a guest post for my blog, but when she first handed it in, I didn't want to post it. As you'll see, out of all the things she could've written about -- being a grandma, her son, her granddaughter, her grandson, being an educator, how much she loves Texas -- she wrote about me. 

After some thought, though, I decided to go ahead and post it. I realized, that despite her best efforts, this still says more about her than it does about me. It shows her generous, loving heart. It shows her continual desire to learn and grow. It shows her gift for remembering and celebrating details and uniqueness in other people. These are all qualities I love about her son, and I pray her granddaughter inherited too!}

I have been given an assignment.  As a teacher I am used to giving assignments, not getting them.  Anna has requested (with a deadline and a consequence)  that I write a guest blog.  This is my first experience with blogging, so if the “professional bloggers” out there will cut me a little slack, I will do my best to complete my assignment. 

It is a little overwhelming to think about writing something that many people will be reading.  I have been pondering about what to write for two days and the one thought that keeps coming back to me is that this is my opportunity to share with Anna’s readers’ things that I appreciate about her.  Many of them you already know, but as John’s mother and Ayla’s grandmother I feel that I have a unique perspective.  So that is what I have decided to do. 

From the moment that John called me and said, “Momma, I got a girlfriend!” until today I have been getting to know this very special woman who has brought such joy to my son.  The more I get to know her the more that I am convinced that she was hand-picked by God for my son John.   There are many things that I appreciate about Anna.  What I love the most about Anna is her love for our Father.  I love that she continually seeks Him and listens to His voice.  She has a heart for people and reaches out to her friends and family.  Anna is a thinking woman and wants to walk in truth. 

I love to get in conversations with her about current events.  I always learn so much.  Of course my favorite subject to talk about with her is the Lord.  She always has a perspective and insight that I hadn’t thought of before.   I love Anna’s  creativity which shows up in her writing and her many projects around the house.  I love her world vision. 

Anna is  at home on the back of John’s motorcycle, canoeing down the river, as well as dressed up and off to a formal event.  Anna loves to plan special events for her guests.  A good example of this is when my daughter Kimberly, my grandson Jaden and I went to Georgia to see John’s graduation.  She planned a very special evening at the restaurant where she worked.  We really enjoyed it. 

Anna has a great sense of adventure and she is a strong woman who is able to work through the bumps in life that come her way.

Having said all that, (and I could go on and on) the greatest gift that Anna has given me is the privilege of being Grandma to her little Jewel, Ayla.  For those of you who have not yet met our princess Ayla, you are in for a treat.  She is the sweetest!  So, I will add being a great mom to Anna’s long list of things that I love about her.  It is such a blessing to know that your granddaughter is in such good hands.  I am one blessed grandma.  Ayla is my second grandchild, but my first granddaughter.  Thank you Anna and John for such a precious gift. 

So, Anna, here is your guest blog.  I love you and thank God often for bringing you to our family.  You are the best!  I know that you are going to be a great Mom, and Ayla is super blessed to have you for her mother.  I am praying for you, John, and Ayla as you enter this next phase of your journey together. 

Love,

Mom

{Thanks, Mom! I have been so grateful for you since I fell in love with John and I love continually discovering the treasure you are.}

In The Moment - A Special Guest Blogger

{While my mom was visiting us to meet her newest grand baby, I gave her a homework assignment. Here is her first (but maybe not the last?) guest post.}

Sitting, holding, rocking, weeping, watching, cooing, enjoying, loving

How privileged I am to be able to come to Virginia and meet my newest grandchild, Ayla Jewel. Yes, it happened again - my heart is enlarged and my love is multiplied!

Ayla is perfect, beautiful and everything one could pray for. She does all the things a newborn is supposed to do - she sleeps, nurses, makes faces, fills her diapers, makes "ohs" with her lips, looks into my eyes, and sometimes even smiles (No, Walter, it is NOT gas!).

It is hard, though, for me to stay "in the moment." 

I look at her and I remember holding her mother in my arms. She, too, was a perfect, beautiful little girl. After two wonderful boys, I was blessed with my A.J. - Anna Joy. I remember the feelings, tears, hopes and prayers. I remember knowing my dependence on the Lord and being humbled with the responsibility of raising a daughter.

April 1979

 I am also remembering my mom. How she loved babies! She would have been so thrilled about Ayla and so happy for Anna and John. What a legacy! Mom loved to say we come from a long line of  God-fearing, strong women. I would like to say we come from a lon line of strong, godly women.

It is also hard to stay "in the moment" because I look to the future, of course not knowing what it holds. My "mother/grandmother" heart wants it all for my kids and grandkids...

Happiness, peace, joy, success, fulfillment,and love.

No sorrow, pain, hurt, or loneliness.

A wise woman told me when I had my babies that I could prepare not only them, but also their children for their roles in the world. I prayed (oh, how I prayed!), read, studied and tried to raise my children so they would know God, serve Him and find their places in His world.

I know Anna is also looking back and toward the future. And we are both soaking in this blessing --

Being in the moment with Ayla, our Jewel.

Bonus points if you can identify the real "blueberry" in this picture.

{Thanks Mom! You're the best!}

I have a daughter

If I had told you that with my actual voice (as opposed to my written one), there's a 97% chance that's as far as I'd get. I'd either get too choked up to finish and just look at you with tears in my eyes, hoping you'd fill in the rest, or actually start crying mid-sentence and try to finish but you'd still have to figure out the rest.

So, to keep this blog authentic, I'll leave it there for now.

I won't leave you with nothing, though. As part of God's amazing gift of the entire story of Ayla, He brought me two blogs I don't usually read with words to get me through the labor and delivery process and shape the way I raise my girl.

Ann Voskamp is the new "who I want to be when I grow up." Here's a portion of her blog posted Monday:

“Remember?” I whisper it gentle. “You’re a bag of sand and there’s a hole in your toe — and the sand just keeps trickling out. Just let everything that comes on, trickle on through. Don’t hold on… Just breathe and let go.” All the torn places in a life show us to how let go.

And the work of birthing a child is the work of raising a child –  knowing how to let go. We breathe slow together, letting what He gives in this moment fill us, run through us, move on out into the world.

I don’t know how many times a day I still midwife myself and these children, “Just take a deep breath… Breathe.“ The beautiful labor over a child never ends. Our every breath is a murmuring of His name, YWHW.

These words couldn't have been more timely or more essential for me getting through the hours of labor, both naturally and medically induced.

Then, on Wednesday, shortly after I gave birth to a daughter who, by overwhelming popular opinion including my own, looks just like me, my friend Emily posted the link to this blog from titled Own Your Beauty: When Your Girl Looks Like You:

I know that she's a girl, and oh, girls are so good at being so hard on themselves. I want her to be really, really bad at that. I want her to always see what I do when I look at her. I want her to keep peering into the mirror with satisfaction, saying in the sweetest voice you've ever heard- "I look so pretty," and believing it. Not just when she looks at herself in certain light either, at a certain angle, when her hair is having a particularly amazing day. 

Although those days are nice.

I've read it at least 20 times and still can't get through it without tearing up. I'm sure you'll hear more from me about this, or I will say something like, "You know that blog I linked to about having a daughter that looks like me? Yeah, I'm working on that."

Finally, because I'm feeling very mushy gushy right now, here's a sweet pic of my angel to close out your Sunday.

Belated

I realized with shock and dismay yesterday after I hit publish, that I had omitted a very important joy of the day. So today, it's all about #16 (not the one I hinted at yesterday, that will have to be later).

Seven years ago, I met this incredible guy.

He is Josiah Israel, and he is my 2nd of 8 nephews. As most nephews are, he is one of a kind. My sister found out she was pregnant only a few weeks after her husband deployed to Iraq. At the time, the Army was only deploying people for 6 months, so we all expected he'd be back in time for the birth. Not so.

They extended his deployment to a year, but he was able to work out his mid-tour break to be when Josiah was due. I took 3 weeks of leave at the same time, so I could go help out with my sister's first born, Judah.

Judah's first snowman, Dec 2003

Those 3 weeks were some of the most precious times with these little guys. I mean, I love love love all my nie-neps, but Josiah was the only one for whom I was in town for his birth. I don't know if I should, but I have a special bond with him, and I'm very proud of him.

From almost the minute he was born, he looked around, saw his older brother and was determined to catch up. He was such a serious looking baby, we were all so relieved when he started to smile! He started walking at 8 months, taught himself to read at age 4 and now in 1st grade he is very bored (but a great student, nonetheless)! He has a great sense of humor, is a chess master and loves to dance (robot style)!

Teaching Uncle John how to play chess

 I have enjoyed many special moments with Josiah in the past 7 years. This summer he made his 3rd trip to visit me in D.C. (the first was in-utero, which he says he remembers. The second was 2 years ago, which I know he remembers!) Part of me can't wait to see what he grows up to be. Last time I asked him, his top three choices for what he wants to be when he grows up were: 1) a chef 2) a sidekick 3) a karate (his words).

But then part of me doesn't want him to get any older. I want to freeze him in time for his innocence, curiosity and sincerity.

I guess if he does have to get older, my hope is that he stays the strong and sensitive, sweet and silly, loyal brother and cousin, doting nephew and grandson, independent, talented and perfect Josiah that he is today.

Happy Birthday, one day late, buddy. I love you!

A Warning for Blueberry

Dear Blueberry,

You should know that your mommy is a goof. You are going to figure this out someday, but I just don't want it to come as a big shock to you, so I'm giving you fair warning.

Case in point: The way I get when I can't stop laughing (especially when your daddy is the cause).

Here's a tree I thought was beautiful, so I was taking pictures of it. (I will often do this when I see trees or flowers I like. You'll get used to it.)

Then I thought, this would be a great backdrop to get some pictures with some of my favorite friends (your Aunt Liz and Aunt Mary- you'll love them!)

Mary's baby boy is just 10 weeks younger than you!

Then Aunt Liz says, "You should get a picture of you and John in front of this tree," and proceeds to say to John "Can I take a picture with your wife in front of the tree?" To which he replies, "Sure, go ahead," and walks away.

So, I get really tickled that he thinks she's really asking permission to take my picture and by the time he is informed that the request was for him to be in it, I have lost it. (And I'm laughing again now, typing this)

And of course he takes full advantage of my inability to stop laughing and keeps telling me to be serious so we can take this picture in front of this tree.

He's a cruel, cruel man.

I'm finally able to keep a straight face, but it's not even worth it.

One day, you might also discover that your daddy is a nerd, but most likely you'll always think he's a superhero (which he is). But just remember, if you inherit his ability to make me laugh and enjoyment in egging me on, you have been warned!

Book of Love

All my Christmas/Holiday decorations are finally put away. That's right. On September 29.

You're probably thinking that I'm either 1) a big procrastinator or 2) a big Christmas lover. Yes on the first, not so much on the second.

But with holiday decorations now for sale in all the stores and musicians tweeting about the release dates of their Christmas albums, and even having to make some Christmas plans already, this is on my mind. I may do a separate blog later about how I feel about Christmas and why, but today I will tell you about something I love about Christmas.

Getting photos and cards from friends and family!

In this age of electronic everything, I treasure getting an envelope in the mail with a real photo of someone I love (or at least am mildly interested in). And there's no time I get more of these than the holidays. As you've seen from previous posts on the roses and letters, I tend to keep things people give or send me. Along with holiday photos (I don't keep just cards, only the photos), I keep baby announcements (with photos), wedding invitations (from people who send photos along with or after), and just recently (as a true sign of getting older), graduation announcements.

From the arrival of the first holiday card, usually from my friend Shannon in November, through mid-January, my refrigerator is decorated with the smiles, creativity and thoughtfulness of friends and family from all over the world.

I actually took this picture in January, when I intended to do this project and blog about it!

They are usually put away towards the end of January. By "put away" I mean organized and placed into a photo album. This year, though, they sat on a shelf in a growing pile until today.

One big pile of love

Organized by relationship or event

I started this album in 2005, the year we got married. It's full of stories now. The stories are mostly of families' changing dynamics, from the wedding invites to the baby announcements to the holiday pictures with one, two, then even three new faces added in these five years. For some, the narrative of the years shows heartache and redemption: one year a happy couple and their babies, the next the split-up couple and their kids separately, and maybe the next a new face in the happy couple with an extra kid or so. There are also the rare ones of single friends, celebrating the adventures of their unbound lives (I do not keep pictures of friends' animals only... eh hem, you know who you are).

I love flipping through this album from time to time, reading the stories in these faces. I remember days with some when the faces in their pictures were the substance of things only hoped for.

One of my favorite pages this year, my grad school girls' lovely girls! (and also a good reason for Blueberry to be a boy!)

I look at others and imagine what new faces will be added in the years to come, what other's answered prayers will look like.

Today, as I finally added almost an entire year of new entries, I used the last page in the album. And I got just a tiny bit excited about the holidays coming, which means, in part, the start of a new album! I want to run out and buy it right now, but it's raining and I'm still in my pajamas, so I probably won't until sometime mid-2011!