It hardly seems like a day of marked significance. The end of an entire year counts down with the tick of my kitchen clock while I sit at the living room window enrobed in a fleecy jacket. It is a cold afternoon, though the pale sunlight highlights the beauty of the season. I am glad to see its face today.
Andy is working. He was up and out early and in his absence a little girl with tousled hair and a pink unicorn crawled up in bed beside me to finish her sleeping. "I saw the kitchen light on so I knew dad was up," she mumbled as she snuggled under the covers. I relish these sweet moments, yet I was awake and could hardly let the morning hours waste away. They are my favorite.
Evie chose this morning to dream long and took a great deal of coaxing to be awakened. I snapped a picture of her sweet sleep before I leaned over to whisper in her ear. She did not stir, this for the girl who normally wakens at the drop of a sock. There is something about a morning with a scheduled appointment that invites children to sleep more deeply. We celebrate sleep around here.
It feels much like a normal day. Much like the 364 that preceded this one. Yet, in the normalcy of the days there was much that marks this year as a quite significant. God did great and mighty and miraculous things right before our very eyes. We made changes. We saw changes. Life was good. Life was hard.
We made it.
In some sense, the triumph comes not only in the highlights of joy but also for the victory of making it through the darkness. Life is a celebration. Even if only to raise your hand to acknowledge that you haven't been swallowed up...celebrate that.
God is blessed by our joy.
The tick of the clock and the fading of the sun behind the bare armed trees remind me of things yet undone.There is dinner to be made and my little artist begs to paint in swirls of vibrant hues across the kitchen table. I must bid my haven of words au revoir.
There are memories to be made before the year is over.
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
Monday, December 30, 2013
"I-love-you-so-much-I-can't-stand-it" hair
She is a little fairy of joy. Her feet dance to the tune of the songs on the radio and the songs in her heart. Her joy is contagious and sometimes a little bit dangerous.
She is the wild sort.
Overwhelmed by joy or a surge of 4 year old energy, she nearly bursts with excitement at times. To those who are in her path, beware. You are in a danger zone.
Often it's a head severing neck hug. A giant leap onto a poor, unsuspecting seated or standing individual. A dancing leg hug that knocks a person to the ground.
It's dangerous.
One day last week we were sitting on the floor downstairs in the middle of a pile of matchbox cars, dollies and plastic animals. My little playmate and I acted out the stories of flying horses and girls on sunny vacations. There was drama, there was excitement, there was a lot of make believe.
I was unprepared.
Little figures went flying as my bright eyed companion exploded from her seat with a shout, "I LOVE YOU SO MUCH I CAN'T STAND IT!" Little arms circled my head and neck. I may or may not have screamed, feeling as much loved as I felt scared. Scared for my life and yes, a bit scared for the state of my hair.
She may be small but she is a wiry one. I closed my eyes to protect them. Her grip on my head was strong and she jumped while declaring her sentiment with joyous abandon, her lung capacity fully engaged.
We fell over, crashing into a pile of plastic hooves and car bumpers. My attacker let go and we laughed. I was thrilled to have survived and she was thrilled with the state of my new coiffure.
It was exactly then that the kitchen door opened, and my weary man returned from a long day at work. He looked down the stairs and saw us. He inquired about the state of my much teased locks.
"I-Love-You-So-Much-I-Can't-Stand-It," I offered.
He understood. He knows a joy-splosion when he sees one.
In case you were wondering, we do not condone these violent expressions of affection. In fact, we are trying to teach her a gentler way to express herself.
Overwhelmed by joy or a surge of 4 year old energy, she nearly bursts with excitement at times. To those who are in her path, beware. You are in a danger zone.
Often it's a head severing neck hug. A giant leap onto a poor, unsuspecting seated or standing individual. A dancing leg hug that knocks a person to the ground.
It's dangerous.
One day last week we were sitting on the floor downstairs in the middle of a pile of matchbox cars, dollies and plastic animals. My little playmate and I acted out the stories of flying horses and girls on sunny vacations. There was drama, there was excitement, there was a lot of make believe.
I was unprepared.
Little figures went flying as my bright eyed companion exploded from her seat with a shout, "I LOVE YOU SO MUCH I CAN'T STAND IT!" Little arms circled my head and neck. I may or may not have screamed, feeling as much loved as I felt scared. Scared for my life and yes, a bit scared for the state of my hair.
She may be small but she is a wiry one. I closed my eyes to protect them. Her grip on my head was strong and she jumped while declaring her sentiment with joyous abandon, her lung capacity fully engaged.
We fell over, crashing into a pile of plastic hooves and car bumpers. My attacker let go and we laughed. I was thrilled to have survived and she was thrilled with the state of my new coiffure.
It was exactly then that the kitchen door opened, and my weary man returned from a long day at work. He looked down the stairs and saw us. He inquired about the state of my much teased locks.
"I-Love-You-So-Much-I-Can't-Stand-It," I offered.
He understood. He knows a joy-splosion when he sees one.
In case you were wondering, we do not condone these violent expressions of affection. In fact, we are trying to teach her a gentler way to express herself.
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