On one of the best gifts I was ever given

My Senior year of high school I was editor of the school paper, and making straight A's in everything from AP Calculus to my fourth year of French. So my generous father allowed me to enroll in one "easy" class. I chose Clothing Design. It was in that easy class that I learned the basics of threading a bobbin, sewing a straight seam, and following a pattern. I loved it and actually wore the things I made. For my 18th birthday, my parents bought me my very own sewing machine and a gift card to buy some fabric and a pattern. Although I hate to admit it, that was over 13 years ago. And I am still using the same machine (I don't think they paid more than $100 for it). With that machine I have dressed my windows and my children. I have turned Leaves and Bugs into a dinosaur and a butterfly and a princess and even Luke and Leia Skywalker. I've made Christmas gifts and covered pillows and I even made my dog a Miami Dolphins hoodie. I've turned sketches and ideas into real-life, tangible objects. What my parents gave me was a tool to create. They didn't give me something that would be used up, but something that would be used to make new things: a perpetual making machine.

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.