Spring in Photos

This spring has been about putting one foot in front of the other for me.  And the thing about that is - no matter how painful it is, no matter how sloooowly you move your feet, no matter how little it seems you're moving, you actually do move.  It's just that you can't tell while you're heaving that left foot four inches, and then struggling to do the same with your right.  But four inches is forward motion, people, and forward motion (eventually) builds on itself.

This post is a mini photo book of all the sweet forward motion our family has managed to enjoy this past spring.

Moments of sibling sweetness.

Lots of seize-the-moment snuggling with my not-really-a-baby-anymore.

Impromptu family adventures. (Wooden Shoe Tulip Festival)

Breaking the routine with a mid-week beach trip.

Busting at the seams with pride over my two martial arts belt-testers.

Community service as a family.

Surviving way more hours in the car together than ever before.  The joy of three kids who can entertain themselves with a pen and paper.

Toy airplanes in the sunshine.  (Thanks Grandma Sara!)

Charlotte's delight over her "big girl" dress.

Wyatt teaching Charlotte how to unload the dishwasher.  The gift of kids who know how to work.

Reading party in the park with a bag full of library books.

Books to Consider: April 2013

Note:  This post contains affiliate links, which means (at no extra cost to you) I may receive a portion of any purchase you make via links within.

Today I am introducing what might actually be a regular thing here, or even *gasp* a once-a-month series!  We'll see; you may recall my complete lack of blogging consistency.
But anyway!  Friends who know me in real life know that I read a lot and I'm always good for a book recommendation.  This blog is pretty much a mash-up of all things running through my head, and, on any given day, there's a book or two in there as well.  So I give you: What I Read: April 2013.  This seems a little bit of a non sequitur when you consider my last few posts, but I needed to change my focus for a little while.  Or at least try. . .

To avoid spoilers and make these reviews unique, I will include a short comment about each book, and one or seven of my favorite quotes from the book.  I am the kind of person who doesn't finish books that stink, so I'll be sure to let you know if the book was chucked returned to my library in excellent condition prior to completion.  Check your local library if you're stingy like me, or rather, if you've spent all your grocery money on books for your children instead.

When You've Lost Heart

Note:  This post contains affiliate links, which means I may receive a portion of any purchase you make via links within.  Also, this post was mostly typed on a decrepit laptop, with a small child on each side of me, one poking buttons at random, and the other putting his feet on the keyboard and saying inexplicably, "No mocha!  No mocha!"

Photo by Richard Lowkes, flickr creative commons

We've had a lot of illness in our home in the past few weeks.  Not surprisingly, I came back from my friend's graveside service completely wiped out.  I woke up that next morning and realized I was. so. very. sick.  And I had pink eye.  Yuck.

mama hands, tiny undies, and soul strengthening

When I became anxious (read: very impatient) waiting for my first daughter to be born, I would go into her room and sort through her little clothes.  There was something very soothing about stacking up little onesies, hanging little dresses, smoothing sweet blankets into neat folds.  This became a sort of ritual for me, preparing for each baby by purposefully organizing their clothes.  (It just hit me again, that I really do organize whenever I'm trying to control stress.)

Orange-Fringed Bikinis: How to Survive a Deep Loss

I got this email in my inbox today, telling me about the "8 summer obsessions" from Piperlime.com.  Number four: orange-fringed bikini.  Technically the color is paprika, but whatever.  For some unknown reason, this struck me as completely ridiculous and hilarious at the same time, and so you get the gift of bikinis in the title of this post.

I get really stuck when I'm beginning a post sometimes because, though it's much easier to title your work post-composition, Blogger wants you to choose a title first.  If you do leave the title bar blank, your post url will be part of the first line of your post, which I suppose is fine, but it seems untidy to me.  That sounds like rambling, but actually brings me nicely to my point.

My dear friend Stacey passed on into heaven just after noon yesterday.  What does one do the day after something like this happens?

the astounding power of prayed scripture (part 2)

Part two of my post on praying specific scriptures over your children.  Find part one here.

Here's what I really want to tell you.  The verse I chose for Wyatt was Psalm 119:2, and I wrote it on his traced hand like this: Teach Wyatt the wisdom of keeping Your statues, Lord, and let him to seek You with all his heart.

As I said in part one of this post, I started praying this over Wyatt at night during his tuck-in time, and whenever I had specific prayer time for my kids.  Lest I sound more disciplined than I am, this specific prayer time usually happens between the time the alarm goes off and I drag myself out of bed, or between the time I collapse in my bed and then fall asleep.  I'm a work in progress, for sure.

I recorded what happened with Wyatt in the journal I keep for him, and this is the abbreviated version:

the astounding power of prayed scripture (part 1)

Note:  I started this post a few weeks ago, but was derailed when a dramatic stomach bug descended dramatically on my darling daughters.  Dramatically.  (Alliterate much?)  So now, I bring to you part one of sweet story about more Unseen Things.

During my last round of extended depression, something that came to light was my lack of prayer over my children.  Oh, I prayed for them - randomly throughout the day, when they would fight, when I didn't know what to do, at bedtime, and desperately in the middle of the night when a little one showed up at my bedside.