Wednesday, August 25, 2010

The sound of (mockingjay) music.

Do you think that my kids will get teased at school if I dress them like the Von Trapp boys from The Sound of Music?

I'm going to keep my eyes open for a lederhosen pattern. (These suspendered shorts I found at a thrift store for 50 cents.)

I guess somewhere in-between dressing them in baby-blue matching-jumper-sets with teddy-bears (which seem to undermine their growing bodies and minds) and decking them out in smaller versions of their daddy's wardrobe (which ages them far too quickly) lies the lederhosen.

I'm feeling pretty passionate about this right now.

Maybe I can chalk it up to the lateness of the hour.

Or maybe I've snapped because I've been reading too much crazy stream-of-consciousness dialogue in the last book of The Hunger Games series.

Whatever the reason, I think it's time for me to go to sleep.

Monday, August 23, 2010

the man of my dreams.

When we were first engaged we talked of our future family. We spoke of what type of parents we would be and what type of kids we would have. Some of these plans have worked out the way we hoped, and others have worked out to be even better than we could have ever imagined.

Of course we have met discouragement and frustrations along the way, and I'm sure we'll meet more, but generally speaking we are living those united dreams.

One sweet vision we shared so long ago was a perfect picture of a whole family asleep on our bed with us, our kids having climbed under the warm blankets in the early morning. We imagined this much. We never imagined the joy of watching their bellies raise and fall to the sweet sounds of their breath... the feel of their cold, little feet tucked under our bodies for warmth... the serenity in their sleeping expressions...

Then the gleeful giggles when we all awake together. I'm so glad for a husband who wished on the stars with me so long ago, and stands by me, hand in hand, as those dreams are made real.


Happy Monday in a life worth the living.

Thursday, August 19, 2010

The eleventh hour reflection.

Ten summer loves that I will long for through the winter...

1. The way the sunshine makes me feel inside.

2. The sight of my boys in their underwear, running through vast fields of green.

3. The way my sister learns and laughs and loves when she spends her days at our house.

4. Buckets full of berries.

(Well, if not buckets full, than at least bellies full.)

5. The treats that are the product of berry picking.

6. A million excuses to spend time with friends.

7. Watching Duke rock at softball.

8. Counting their new freckles.

9. That ridiculous ring around the bathtub. (Photo by Margaret Jacobson)

10. Thinking to myself, as I ride my bike, that I wouldn't want any other life than the one I have.


I guess I sort-of lied about listing only 10 things... because I have one more to add. Although this summer love could have a sub-list of little, wonderful treasures that could go on for miles...

11. Our tiny baby.

I tell you, I never thought of myself as a mother-of-babies (deeming my love more suited for older children) but I fell so in love with tiny Fitz that I'm having a hard time watching him grow.

Next year I will have another summer full of new loves and adventures.

But he will never be that tiny baby again.

I've often thought that three months for a baby could be equated to one year for an older child, the way they grow and change. I count myself so blessed to have been anticipating his growth and sketching the precious moments into my heart.

The seasons to be most cherished are those that we only experience once.

I am beginning to see that life is too short to complain about the weather.

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

build a catapult and shoot things.

One of the goals from our live list.

My parents and two sisters have been out of town for the past week and we've missed them terribly! It's been a delight to have Emily over to play again.

(Sorry my haircut isn't as exciting as some of you were anticipating. Duke loves it long.)

Even the peanut gallery enjoyed this pursuit!

Who knew we could have this much fun lashing sticks together!

Life lived today? Check!

Monday, August 16, 2010

The disintigration of dance at a sleep-over.

This is quite ridiculous.

Off the wagon...

Well, Duke. I'm sorry. After two and a half years of life without cutting my hair, I finally couldn't take it anymore.

Don't worry, though. It's not like last time.

See you when you get home from work, Darling.

xo,
Megs

our family record.

Among the top memories I'd like to preserve from this summer...

Hanging out, wearing our pajamas in the empty swimming pool, drawing on each other with chalk.

And there it is, added to our family history. This blog really is such a blessing to me (and I'm sure it will become even more dear as the years go on). I've tried journaling, but I have all these empty spots in my entries where I intended to add photographs. Some folks are so gifted with words that they can convey the tiniest details as to paint a memory in the mind. I could never string the right letters together to describe my children's faces, lit with mischief. To tell a life story of emotion and truth, I rely heavily on my camera, making this a dream record.

Although I think it might be wise to have my blog converted to a book. Has anyone tried it?

Friday, August 13, 2010

Wade in a stream.

An adventure from our live list.

Iggy threw shoes in the water when I wasn't looking just so he could watch me run down the stream after them. I secretly think he's super funny but I'm trying not to let on.

Sparky is moving past his fear of water and now he has been asking to learn how to swim. He really is growing into a charming young man.

Fitz was so jealous that everyone else was playing in the water that he decided to rocket his-self from his car-seat and make a break for the stream! The picture is blurry because I was running to grab him. Witnessing his little personality become manifest over the last couple of months has been a real treat.

Yes, lots of personality in that tiny body.

Adventure highly recommended!

Cheers, all.

Thursday, August 12, 2010

A story about prayer.

Disclaimer: This post is self-indulgent and most entirely for my personal benefit.

I prayed and prayed and prayed to find my camera battery.

This may be a foreign idea to many people, but I almost always pray when I lose things, and as I pray I am almost always 100% certain that I will get an answer.

The origin of my confidence:

When I was about 8 years old, I was looking for my favorite skirt to wear to church. I looked for a very long time and exhausted all my mental facilities looking. I was about to give up when I thought to myself that I should pray. (I probably had recently attended a Sunday School about prayer.) I knelt in the middle of my messy room, asked Heavenly Father for help, and the moment I said amen I knew exactly where it was. It was somehow squashed in-between my night-table and my bed, hidden from sight.

I cannot tell you how many times I've received answers, but I can tell you that I lose things a lot and the first thing I think to do is pray, and as I kneel I believe I will get an immediate answer.

Well, when I prayed about my battery, the first thought I had was, "You are not supposed to find it." What? Surely, no. Pictures are important. I tried again and felt the same thing. So, supposing that the Lord was saving my camera from an untimely demise (since we were going swimming) I stopped praying and looking.

Surely, I thought, I would get an answer tomorrow.
No response. So I moped.

And I moped.

Then I deep-cleaned the whole house and couldn't find it anywhere. I prayed again, feeling absolutely sure that I would get help. Absolutely sure. Nothing wavering. At amen I thought "ask the kids."

Asking toddlers if they've seen something, or if they know where something is, can be really obnoxious. They mean well when they answer "yes" and then parade you around the house for ten minutes and eventually tell you that they have no idea what you are even talking about; they just want to help.

By this point I was getting grumpy. I thought of all the reasons that God could have for withholding things from me (which is really a stupid thought to have). I wondered what I was supposed to be learning from all of this (which was a much better thought to have). I realized that I had developed a sense of entitlement, and that I needed to be humble. And then I thought (possibly the dumbest thing ever) that now that I'd learned my lesson that I could have what I wanted. Very humble of you, Megan.

One evening the boys could not sleep so I read them a story called "Thunder in the Night" from a children's magazine, which turned out to be about prayer. Then I had an idea. Yes, I asked the boys to say a prayer to find my battery. They said a prayer, my oldest told me he wanted to go downstairs to look under my bed, and then while I was looking the other way, they escaped bed-time. Sneaky buggers. Serves me right though. Not that I think it's bad to teach children to pray, but I had such an agenda on this one.

I prayed more, each time believing that it was time to get an answer (though it didn't come), and I kept working on getting the house in order. Finally, looking at a tiny, wooden elephant statue that had been sitting in a corner, something said, "you did it."

"No way." I said back to that little impression. And although I felt a slight inclination to pridefully refuse to look, I knew it was behind my pachyderm friend.

This is the scripture that Duke turned to randomly and read that evening:

"And it came to pass that after I had prayed and labored with all diligence, the Lord said unto me: I will grant unto thee according to thy desires, because of thy faith. " (Enos 1:12)

In reflection I realize that I wrote previously of my quest to persevere through discouragement, and of my past failure to do so. At one point I prayed for help with this aspect of my character.

Perhaps the granting of one request required that He ignore another.

I am thankful that His ways are not our ways.

I am thankful that He is trying to keep me from becoming spoiled.

I am thankful that along the road I had the chance to clean my house and invite a better spirit of peace here.

I am thankful that I was given an opportunity to teach my boys more about prayer.

I am thankful for a chance to prove myself... to myself.

I am thankful I did not drop my camera in a river.

Who knows exactly why He does what He does, really.

All I know is that He does it because He loves us.