On some of the sweetest words

Cora: I could snuggle you all day, without breakfast, lunch, or dinner.

Seriously, does life get any better? Her wild brother joined in and we had a quiet little moment Sunday morning. One moment like that gives purpose to everything else I do. I will never love doing the dishes or putting away laundry. I will never mark the day I clean the toilet with a smiley face on my calendar. But I can find joy and contentment in doing those things for my loves.

On the good things in life

My life is made good by the little moments

the closeness of my children and the nonsense we whisper in the early minutes before we're late for anything

the weight and warmth of the Bug in my lap, the softness of the yarn, the smoothness of the needles

laying in the floor with my Leaves, making anything we imagine with tiny interlocking bricks

the sound of singing from the shower

the sound of a light saber always

fingers in the flour and sugar, sampling each ingredient as it is made into something altogether different

soft curly hair sliding through my fingers into long braids

a nose being wiggled against mine

tiny popsicle toes tucked between my feet to warm them

love.

On the Best of the Bug

These are some of the reasons I think Cora is great:

She likes to curl up in my lap and knit.

She named her stuffed elephant "Fallulah Jones."

She is a strong little girl, handling more than most children with more grace than most adults.

She is inclusive.

She named her stuffed red panda "Sadie M'lady."

She is almost always smiling and singing.

She will do anything for a laugh.

She named her stuffed chihuahua "Ferocious."

She gladly plays Pokemon, and Star Wars, and whatever else Levi asks her to.

She loves animals and is always gentle with them.

She believes that God heals her every scrape and that He is healing her every day.

She dances.

She knows what she wants and has no problem asking for it.

She is beautiful.

She loves.

On the most influential woman in my life

When my daughter was 8 months old, she was diagnosed with Cystic Fibrosis. On the ride from the specialist's office in Atlanta to my parents' house, I called my mother to let her know. I don't remember the words I used, just that she had to decipher them through my sobbing. When we arrived at her house, she was in the driveway, watering her rosebushes. This image will stick with me for the rest of my life. I was certain before that second that my world had turned upside down and that everything I believed before that time had become untrue. But my mom was watering the rosebushes. Because they would bloom again. They would grow taller and fuller, there would be buds, and later beautiful, fragrant blossoms.

I never saw her cry about the diagnosis. I know that there were many tears shed, I also know that I didn't see them. Her strength empowered me to stand. I was raised by a strong, godly, powerful woman, and some of that must be in my bones, too. I see in her both soft femininity and resolute strength. And that's who I will be.

On the elegance of the Bug

My daughter loves bananas. I like that they come in their own wrappers. They require no preparation on my part before being consumed. How convenient.

But Cora does not like to eat them this way. Instead, she unwraps them, slices them, places the slices in a bowl, and eats them with a fork. How elegant.

On a messy house

I am a good mom. I know this because my house is a disaster.

Every pile of clean, folded laundry that never made it to the drawer is evidence of snuggles on the couch.

Every dirty dish left in the sink is proof that I chose to be a mom instead of a maid.

Every toy, book, or whatever out of place and on the floor (being stepped over a million times) represents time spent playing or reading instead of tidying.

Every mess is proof that I have given my "best" to my kids and saved my "what's left" for housework.

On staying young

Tonight we were watching the new version of "The Karate Kid." While being dropped off for his first day of school, the kid's mother says "I love you," and the kid acts embarrassed.

Levi: (incredulously) Why is that embarrassing? It's his mom. We tell each other "I love you" in public all the time.

I am not at all anxious for my boy to grow up. He still thinks I'm amazing, and pretty, and "the best mommy ever," and he doesn't hesitate to tell me so. I hope that even after my many faults are made evident to him, I'll still be his "tiny little mommy," and that I'll manage to somehow make it through his adolescence without too much embarrassing, emotional damage.

On winning literature

Each week, the first graders in Mrs. Guy's class write a few sentences about an animal. Last week, Levi's story was chosen by his teacher as the best in the class. Here it is:

The frightened pig was about to be cooked at the farm. The pig was very scared. He ran away. Why did he run away? He was about to be cooked into bacon!

This story is a) amazing and b) makes me wonder if the choice to remove meat from my son's diet influenced his narrative. It does seem as though he is in favor of sparing the pig and forgoing the bacon. (Although our vegetarianism has never been about animal rights) No matter the inspiration, I am super proud of my gifted and talented boy and his incredible creativity.

On likes and dislikes

Likes:

Levi and Cora (loves, actually)

Movies that make me think

Yummy (vegetarian) food

Laughing

Tolkien, Lewis, Rowling

Movies that make me laugh

Creating

Mockumentaries (e.g. Spinal Tap and The Office)

People. All kinds, we all have the "divine spark" and should therefore all be valued.

Summer, sunshine and warmth

Truth and Beauty (which, for me, are inextricable)

Dislikes:

Hidden motives

Romantic comedies

Snootiness

Most reality television (Top Chef is the exception and one of my favorite shows)

Being cold

Doing laundry

Adding "licious" to words to make new words

Criticism and judgement

Triteness (especially when used by those who are completely clueless about that which they are speaking)

On the funniest people I know

Levi: (pointing a lego star wars storm trooper holding a tiny gun at Cora) It's loaded.

Cora: I'm not scared of you.

Levi: (in the highest, squeakiest voice imaginable) peuw

Me: hysterical laughter

Seriously, those two monchhichis make me laugh harder than anyone else.

On blobs

Me: Ugh. I look like a blob.

Levi: I think you look like a cute blob.

Me: Awww...thanks, Leaves.

If I have to be a blob, at least I'm a cute one.

On the dangers of equipping a small girl with long pointy things

Cora: I want to learn how to knit.

Me: I'm not quite sure you're old enough.

Cora: Mom, I'm five.

Me: Ok.

Levi: I'm not so sure about this.

Me: About what?

Levi: Cora knitting. She could poke something.

She didn't poke anything. And she did successfully knit about an inch of a scarf (I held the left needle, but she did all the work.) She is very proud of herself. Her mom is a little proud, too.

On the very best way to wake up

Early this morning, after getting the call about the 2 hour delay, crawling back into bed, and just beginning to drift off to sleep, I was visited by a beautiful bug.

Cora: I'm the one you're looking for.

Me: For what?

Cora: For snuggling.

truth. love.

On the wisdom of little girls (a beautiful one in particular)

Me: Ugh. I hope we don't get any more snow this year.

Cora: Mom. (slight sigh of exasperation) If God wants it to snow, there will be snow. If He doesn't want it to snow, it won't.

Duh. It could be so simple. I wish I was more like the couple in C.S. Lewis's space trilogy. They "like weather," all of it. I do not. I like the sun. And that is probably wrong. After all, "The fruit we are eating is the best fruit of all.*" And I've been told repeatedly by one of my favorite people, that the snow deposits nitrogen in the ground which will make the spring blossoms even more plentiful. (Silly me, I thought it was April showers that did that).

I, once again, need to emulate Cora, and accept whatever gift is sent to me, even if it makes me shiver.

*I didn't really mean to reference the Space Trilogy twice in the post, but what I've read by Mr. Lewis has a way of sneaking into my head and sticking there.

On veggies

Levi: Mom, you should be on Top Chef.

Me: Thanks, Levi, but really I'm not a chef.

Levi: Seriously, Mom, you would win.

How sweet is he? Tonight for dinner I made cous cous and roasted sweet potatoes, new potatoes and brussels sprouts. For the kids I also cooked a chicken breast in some butter and a garlic herb blend. Guess what was left on their plate...the chicken. They scarfed the cous cous, but really, who wouldn't? It's delicious. Both types of potatoes and even the brussels sprouts also disappeared from their plates. The only thing Levi wanted seconds of was the brusselss sprouts. Maybe the chicken was disgusting. I don't think it was; it smelled really good. I obviously didn't taste it, but I do know that when I cut it up, it seemed juicy. Yet it was left behind. And I don't care. I didn't want to force my vegetarianism on them. But I'm not sure I'm going to continue cooking meat if it's just going to end up in the trash.

On the new year

I love the word "new." It conjures feelings of pure freshness, like a downy chick, and a crisp apple, and a piece of white paper with no mistakes yet. I realize this is slightly Michael Scott of me, but I love the potential of an empty page of cardstock. I am incredibly inspired by the clean slate that each new year brings. So, here is my to do list for 2011:

Learn to play at least three real songs on my guitar, instead of just randomly playing the five chords I know.

Clean out my basement. This might actually take all year.

Eat more fresh, healthy foods. I always forget how much I love to cook until I make myself do it, so I'm determined to find lots of tasty recipes to try this year.

Dream with God and find the courage to follow those dreams.

Learn to hula hoop.

Finish all the knitting projects I've started.

Be a good mom. Listen to my children. Help them find their strengths. Encourage and build them up. Make sure they know exactly how amazing and wonderfully-created they are.