Sunday, June 19, 2011
Father's Day {Part 1}
I could write a novel on how much I love my dad. But at the same time, word's can't possibly express what he means to me.
The card I found for him this year said this:
The card was simple, but it's sentiment represented my dad to his core. You could describe the way my dad loves as...simple. The way it should be. It's uncomplicated, unconditional, and sometimes undeserved. But it is always there, steady and unwavering, never effected by the actions of others. And yes, the words are exchanged frequently. But his love has always been expressed by his actions.
Growing up he was a fully present dad. From coaching our teams, to filming our made-up dances and plays, playing airplane on the bed, to being a human jungle gym outside...he was there. He laughed and played and he listened. He listened to a little girl talk about how she would be a rock star when she grew up. He listened to a teenager passionately argue about why it was vital that we do something about saving the whales and trees and orphans of the world. He listened to a college student ask questions, frustrated with politics and religion. And now he listens to a grown woman talk about learning to be a wife and a parent. He listens and then responds from his heart.
He teaches right and wrong by how he lives his life. I don't have one memory of him raising his voice at me. But maybe that's because I was such a perfect child ;) But I do remember how much I did and still do respect him. When you're loved that fully and without conditions, you don't want to do anything that would hurt or disappoint.
I've learned a lot from my father and I still have much to learn. Anytime I've been hurt by someone or am frustrated, I call him. His advice is always about taking the high road. He can give that advice because that's the road he takes in his own life. He understands that anger only keeps you captive. You can't fake things like love and peace and contentment. When those dominate your heart, it flows through everything you do and how you treat people. And that's my father. People enjoy his company. They want to be around him. He loves.
So thank you Papa. Thank you for encouraging educated passion, inspiring me to do what makes me happy, reminding me to keep life simple, and for loving the way you do.
Maybe one day I'll write that novel...
The card I found for him this year said this:
They say a man's actions speak louder than words, and your actions have always spoken of love.
The card was simple, but it's sentiment represented my dad to his core. You could describe the way my dad loves as...simple. The way it should be. It's uncomplicated, unconditional, and sometimes undeserved. But it is always there, steady and unwavering, never effected by the actions of others. And yes, the words are exchanged frequently. But his love has always been expressed by his actions.
Growing up he was a fully present dad. From coaching our teams, to filming our made-up dances and plays, playing airplane on the bed, to being a human jungle gym outside...he was there. He laughed and played and he listened. He listened to a little girl talk about how she would be a rock star when she grew up. He listened to a teenager passionately argue about why it was vital that we do something about saving the whales and trees and orphans of the world. He listened to a college student ask questions, frustrated with politics and religion. And now he listens to a grown woman talk about learning to be a wife and a parent. He listens and then responds from his heart.
He teaches right and wrong by how he lives his life. I don't have one memory of him raising his voice at me. But maybe that's because I was such a perfect child ;) But I do remember how much I did and still do respect him. When you're loved that fully and without conditions, you don't want to do anything that would hurt or disappoint.
I've learned a lot from my father and I still have much to learn. Anytime I've been hurt by someone or am frustrated, I call him. His advice is always about taking the high road. He can give that advice because that's the road he takes in his own life. He understands that anger only keeps you captive. You can't fake things like love and peace and contentment. When those dominate your heart, it flows through everything you do and how you treat people. And that's my father. People enjoy his company. They want to be around him. He loves.
So thank you Papa. Thank you for encouraging educated passion, inspiring me to do what makes me happy, reminding me to keep life simple, and for loving the way you do.
Maybe one day I'll write that novel...
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Summer Storm
I have always loved storms. They have never really scared me. There's something about them that is actually peaceful and calming. And humbling too.
One of my favorite storm memories is from a backpacking trip in Alaska. We were getting ready to cross a river but had to stop because a storm popped up and the river was rising and quickening faster than we could get across. We each found a perch to wait it out. The lightning was straight out of a mythological legend of an angry Zeus. The thunder was shaking the earth and knocking boulders loose into the water. I should have been terrified. But it was amazing. I was in awe. I couldn't help but marvel at how teeny tiny I was, helpless in the hand of One who is bigger and greater then I can even comprehend. But I was getting this glimpse of Him and suddenly remembered the words to a song...My Lord is near me all the time.
I have a new favorite storm memory. It's a little less dramatic.
While on the back porch under a tin roof, we felt the wind pick up.
And watched the clouds roll in.
And the rain start hitting the deck.
And then it came on down.
Thunder boomed and lightning cracked all around us. I was holding my sweet baby girl. She wasn't scared. She never even flinched. Eyes wide and in my arms, she just took it all in. I am thankful she feels the same peace and calm that I do, even in the midst of a storm.
And that same song from the Alaskan valley, was in my head again. This time I got to sing it to Lucy.
In the lightning flash across the sky
His mighty pow’r I see,
And I know if He can reign on high,
His light can shine on me.
I’ve seen it in the lightning, heard it in the thunder,
And felt it in the rain;
My Lord is near me all the time,
My Lord is near me all the time.
When the thunder shakes the mighty hills
And trembles ev’ry tree,
Then I know a God so great and strong
Can surely harbor me.
I’ve seen it in the lightning, heard it in the thunder,
And felt it in the rain;
My Lord is near me all the time,
My Lord is near me all the time.
When refreshing showers cool the earth
And sweep across the sea,
Then His rainbow shines within my heart,
His nearness comforts me.
I’ve seen it in the lightning, heard it in the thunder,
And felt it in the rain;
My Lord is near me all the time,
My Lord is near me all the time.
One of my favorite storm memories is from a backpacking trip in Alaska. We were getting ready to cross a river but had to stop because a storm popped up and the river was rising and quickening faster than we could get across. We each found a perch to wait it out. The lightning was straight out of a mythological legend of an angry Zeus. The thunder was shaking the earth and knocking boulders loose into the water. I should have been terrified. But it was amazing. I was in awe. I couldn't help but marvel at how teeny tiny I was, helpless in the hand of One who is bigger and greater then I can even comprehend. But I was getting this glimpse of Him and suddenly remembered the words to a song...My Lord is near me all the time.
I have a new favorite storm memory. It's a little less dramatic.
While on the back porch under a tin roof, we felt the wind pick up.
And watched the clouds roll in.
And the rain start hitting the deck.
And then it came on down.
Thunder boomed and lightning cracked all around us. I was holding my sweet baby girl. She wasn't scared. She never even flinched. Eyes wide and in my arms, she just took it all in. I am thankful she feels the same peace and calm that I do, even in the midst of a storm.
And that same song from the Alaskan valley, was in my head again. This time I got to sing it to Lucy.
In the lightning flash across the sky
His mighty pow’r I see,
And I know if He can reign on high,
His light can shine on me.
I’ve seen it in the lightning, heard it in the thunder,
And felt it in the rain;
My Lord is near me all the time,
My Lord is near me all the time.
When the thunder shakes the mighty hills
And trembles ev’ry tree,
Then I know a God so great and strong
Can surely harbor me.
I’ve seen it in the lightning, heard it in the thunder,
And felt it in the rain;
My Lord is near me all the time,
My Lord is near me all the time.
When refreshing showers cool the earth
And sweep across the sea,
Then His rainbow shines within my heart,
His nearness comforts me.
I’ve seen it in the lightning, heard it in the thunder,
And felt it in the rain;
My Lord is near me all the time,
My Lord is near me all the time.
Friday, June 10, 2011
The Third Month
Dear Lucy,
You're 3 months old. It's only been 3 months but yet it feels like you've always been here. Which I guess in a way you have been. I carried you in my heart, then I carried you in my belly, and I now I carry you in my arms. And no surprise here but I love you even more. I no longer feel like my world has turned every which way. I feel me again, only better. I still enjoy all the things I did before, but now I have the joy and honor of introducing it all to you. You are my ultimate muse. The beauty I have always found in the little things all around me are now magnified by 1,000 by imagining the view through your eyes. I watch as your eyes widen on our walks and you soak up the contrast of the silhouetted trees against a clear blue sky.
And I swear you are already trying to imitate the birds. Like I've been telling you since you were in my belly...
Last week you smelled,
for the first time. And I got to introduce those to you. There is so much more.
My time spent during the day with just the two of us is no longer quiet filled with just my racing mind. We sing to each other and carry on the most intriguing conversations. And your laugh! I could listen to that sound every second for a lifetime. You love it when we read books. You hang on to my every word and usually talk along with me. Your little hands are so much more deliberate. When you reach out and hold my finger or rest your hand on my arm or rub my side while you're eating or curl your fingers around my neck when I'm holding you, it feels on purpose now. Sometimes you even sigh, as if you can relax knowing you're with me. I love it.
We do pause for the occasional cat-nap. Where I gladly stop everything and be still so that you can lay on me and rest. I promise to do this for as long as you desire. There will never be anything more important then when you simply need me.
I still can't believe you sleep around 10 hours every night. Snuggled right in the middle of your dad and me. Funny that since you've arrived our household has never felt so rested. I didn't think it was supposed to work that way. But Lucy, you are such a peaceful baby. You have brought that peace and this incredible sense of quiet calmness into my life. Thank you.
Even with all that sleep, sometimes you still need help waking up. You start squirming with your tush in the air and you start smacking those lips and sucking on that hand. Your body is telling you to wake up and eat, but you just can't quite do it. I roll you over and you stretch with all your might and when you finally start to peel open those eyelids, the whole world gets a GOOD MORNING! With a giggle and the prettiest full gum smile I've ever seen. I just start laughing at you, my well-rested, happy, content baby who knows she's about to get breakfast in bed before we go out to the porch and start our day listening to those birds singing..for you, of course, Lucy Pearl.
You are so stinkin' cute I could just pinch your cheeks all day long. Maybe I will...
Love,
Mama
You're 3 months old. It's only been 3 months but yet it feels like you've always been here. Which I guess in a way you have been. I carried you in my heart, then I carried you in my belly, and I now I carry you in my arms. And no surprise here but I love you even more. I no longer feel like my world has turned every which way. I feel me again, only better. I still enjoy all the things I did before, but now I have the joy and honor of introducing it all to you. You are my ultimate muse. The beauty I have always found in the little things all around me are now magnified by 1,000 by imagining the view through your eyes. I watch as your eyes widen on our walks and you soak up the contrast of the silhouetted trees against a clear blue sky.
And I swear you are already trying to imitate the birds. Like I've been telling you since you were in my belly...
Last week you smelled,
for the first time. And I got to introduce those to you. There is so much more. My time spent during the day with just the two of us is no longer quiet filled with just my racing mind. We sing to each other and carry on the most intriguing conversations. And your laugh! I could listen to that sound every second for a lifetime. You love it when we read books. You hang on to my every word and usually talk along with me. Your little hands are so much more deliberate. When you reach out and hold my finger or rest your hand on my arm or rub my side while you're eating or curl your fingers around my neck when I'm holding you, it feels on purpose now. Sometimes you even sigh, as if you can relax knowing you're with me. I love it.
We do pause for the occasional cat-nap. Where I gladly stop everything and be still so that you can lay on me and rest. I promise to do this for as long as you desire. There will never be anything more important then when you simply need me.
I still can't believe you sleep around 10 hours every night. Snuggled right in the middle of your dad and me. Funny that since you've arrived our household has never felt so rested. I didn't think it was supposed to work that way. But Lucy, you are such a peaceful baby. You have brought that peace and this incredible sense of quiet calmness into my life. Thank you.
Even with all that sleep, sometimes you still need help waking up. You start squirming with your tush in the air and you start smacking those lips and sucking on that hand. Your body is telling you to wake up and eat, but you just can't quite do it. I roll you over and you stretch with all your might and when you finally start to peel open those eyelids, the whole world gets a GOOD MORNING! With a giggle and the prettiest full gum smile I've ever seen. I just start laughing at you, my well-rested, happy, content baby who knows she's about to get breakfast in bed before we go out to the porch and start our day listening to those birds singing..for you, of course, Lucy Pearl.
You are so stinkin' cute I could just pinch your cheeks all day long. Maybe I will...
Love,
Mama
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Mini Excursion
I love those plans that pop-up last minute and end up being so refreshing you go to bed exhausted and smiling at what a great day you had. We headed to the Wildflower Cafe and Desoto Falls with our good friends Keith and Kristin. Lucy soaked up every minute. Well, except for the falls. That, she slept through.
I always reminisce on my backpacking adventures, but there are times when those memories rise up so strong inside me that if I don't get back out there I feel I may bust. Even more so now that I have Lucy. We already have a hardcore trail carrier and she'll be ready for it this fall. Until then, I will continue to enjoy our mini excursions.
As me ol' pal John Muir has said, "The Mountains are calling and I must go."
I always reminisce on my backpacking adventures, but there are times when those memories rise up so strong inside me that if I don't get back out there I feel I may bust. Even more so now that I have Lucy. We already have a hardcore trail carrier and she'll be ready for it this fall. Until then, I will continue to enjoy our mini excursions.
As me ol' pal John Muir has said, "The Mountains are calling and I must go."
Friday, June 3, 2011
Meal Time
I have to share something. A story I want to remember when Lucy is trying to convince me why she has to spend her last summer before college backpacking in the Alaskan wilderness and that she'll be perfectly safe and can take care of herself.
Lucy was in her baby wrap belly-to-belly with me and we were working out. Lucy stays pretty content and entertained any time I wear her and was giggling through the first set of squats and lunges. The giggles quickly turned in to her hunger fuss and I knew if I didn't stop soon...well, that fuss can escalate quickly. I was trying to at least finish one more set when I noticed something. Lucy had stopped fussing and was bobbing her head around like she does when she's trying to find me to nurse in the mornings. I decided to just be still and see what happens. With her eyes closed, she freed her arm and eventually pulled down my tank top and continued to bob around until she found what she was looking for and latched on, sighing as she began filling her tummy. After I finished cracking up and hollering for Steven to come look at what his genius daughter just did, I almost teared up in awe.
Nursing did not come easy for me, something I did not expect. At three weeks, Lucy had done so much damage I was instructed to pump for however long it took to let myself heal. As much as I wanted to feel better and even though Lucy was still going to be getting breast milk, it devastated me. I was so worried that she would get confused and not understand why her boob was taken away and then have a hard time going back. I now see that my hormones might have still been playing a part in the incessant worrying and need to overreact, but at the time it felt like this awful, horrible, legitimate, HUGE DEAL. I cried and cried and prayed and prayed. I wonder if it was a first for God to hear so many prayers and pleas about healing nipples and preventing nipple confusion?
In the end, Lucy was 8 weeks before I was fully healed and we got a hang of it. For Lucy, it was like she never skipped a beat. For Mama, breastfeeding will go down in my book of challenges. Right up there with camping on frozen lakes in -40 degree weather, working with juvenile delinquents, learning to snowboard in the Rockies, and my own backpacking trip across the Alaskan wilderness.
Which brings me back to the wonder of what I witnessing. All that worry when I should have been remembering who created Lucy. You know, that same God who feeds the birds and dresses the flowers, numbers the stars and grains of sands and the hairs on our heads. With as needy and dependant as babies are, they are born to survive and thrive. It was so impressive to see my sweet baby girl not worrying about her next meal, she was given the innate ability to get what she needed. Smiling, I thanked God for the opportunity to provide my baby with the nourishment she needs. I thanked Him for the lesson in patience and perseverance, one I hope will make me a better mother.
Then I basked in the brilliance of my little 11 week old go-getter. Lucy continued to eat. I got to finish my workout.
Lucy was in her baby wrap belly-to-belly with me and we were working out. Lucy stays pretty content and entertained any time I wear her and was giggling through the first set of squats and lunges. The giggles quickly turned in to her hunger fuss and I knew if I didn't stop soon...well, that fuss can escalate quickly. I was trying to at least finish one more set when I noticed something. Lucy had stopped fussing and was bobbing her head around like she does when she's trying to find me to nurse in the mornings. I decided to just be still and see what happens. With her eyes closed, she freed her arm and eventually pulled down my tank top and continued to bob around until she found what she was looking for and latched on, sighing as she began filling her tummy. After I finished cracking up and hollering for Steven to come look at what his genius daughter just did, I almost teared up in awe.
Nursing did not come easy for me, something I did not expect. At three weeks, Lucy had done so much damage I was instructed to pump for however long it took to let myself heal. As much as I wanted to feel better and even though Lucy was still going to be getting breast milk, it devastated me. I was so worried that she would get confused and not understand why her boob was taken away and then have a hard time going back. I now see that my hormones might have still been playing a part in the incessant worrying and need to overreact, but at the time it felt like this awful, horrible, legitimate, HUGE DEAL. I cried and cried and prayed and prayed. I wonder if it was a first for God to hear so many prayers and pleas about healing nipples and preventing nipple confusion?
In the end, Lucy was 8 weeks before I was fully healed and we got a hang of it. For Lucy, it was like she never skipped a beat. For Mama, breastfeeding will go down in my book of challenges. Right up there with camping on frozen lakes in -40 degree weather, working with juvenile delinquents, learning to snowboard in the Rockies, and my own backpacking trip across the Alaskan wilderness.
Which brings me back to the wonder of what I witnessing. All that worry when I should have been remembering who created Lucy. You know, that same God who feeds the birds and dresses the flowers, numbers the stars and grains of sands and the hairs on our heads. With as needy and dependant as babies are, they are born to survive and thrive. It was so impressive to see my sweet baby girl not worrying about her next meal, she was given the innate ability to get what she needed. Smiling, I thanked God for the opportunity to provide my baby with the nourishment she needs. I thanked Him for the lesson in patience and perseverance, one I hope will make me a better mother.
Then I basked in the brilliance of my little 11 week old go-getter. Lucy continued to eat. I got to finish my workout.
Thursday, June 2, 2011
I couldn't resist.
It seems like every where I look there's another baby being born with thick gorgeous locks. It's adorable! Well, Lucy is starting to notice and keeps asking me why she doesn't have any and if she'll ever be able to have a drawer full of bows. I definitely don't want her to feel self-conscious over her precious blond peach fuzz that I could rub all day long, so I decided to make her something we could tape to the bathroom mirror for her to see every morning...
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