The Present.

I saw a comment recently on facebook about the week between Christmas and New Years being odd. I agree. It's kind of in a category all by itself. Not yet the new, but we are almost finished with the old and ready to move on in a way. It's like the year seems to drag out a bit longer than we expect. Some people are vacationing, while others are back to work.

It got me thinking about how often I'm ready to throw something away and replace it with "the new". Wasting, in a sense, what I've been blessed with. Greedily craving what's next before I've thoroughly used up, filled up, made memories of, lived out the present. I'm not being in the moment. I'm so ready for what may be next that I'm missing what's right in front of me.

I am really ready to learn to be present. To not make hasty decisions powered by discontent, but to wait, be still, and gingerly unfold the time I've been given like a gift so that I can fill up and flesh out each moment. Not in a crazy, over committed, over caffeinated way...but in a way that leaves footprints. I was here, and I'll be here, in the present.

“The facts of the present won't sit still for a portrait. 

They are constantly vibrating, full of clutter and confusion.”

/ William MacNeile Dixon

Glorious Mess.

Christmas is a lot of fun. There's so many warm fuzzies flying around...it's hard to resist. Some people do, but it's hard. I read a quote recently that said, "One of the most glorious messes in the world is the mess created in the living room on Christmas day.  Don't clean it up too quickly." / Andy Rooney

I think that says a lot I need to hear. Christmas is a glorious mess, in a lot of ways. My kids make a mess, I make a mess, you're surrounded by your family (who if they are like most families, can be kind of a mess psychologically speaking ;)...and for some reason we love that mess.







We've just finally finished cleaning up the Christmas mess over here. It made me think of that first Christmas, and what a mess we are without God, and what a mess He's cleaned up in me. He still finds a mess often, daily even, but thankfully He sees past all my mess, and calls it glorious. I want to see the "glorious in the mess" around me, too.

Check out more shots at Perceptive Perspectives, 

Sweet Shot Tuesday, Trendy Treehouse, and Simplicity 

(The last shot is my pick for this week)

Ice Cubes and Fortune Cookies

I know I'm infamous for hating snow (which we have several inches of right now...it's been falling for 3 years. Ok, about a day, whatever). But it is kind of fun being stuck at home with nowhere to go (for a limited time...the kids get way too crazy after about a day of that).

Yesterday we dug out (if you're from above the mason-dixon line, please stop laughing...I know it's not much) and drove to my mom's house. It was a long, dangerous, icy drive. Kidding, it was five minutes down the road...which was mostly clear, except for what I think were a couple of ice cubes.

We ate, played a new board game called "Last Word" (as if I need a game to make me try and get that. Ahem, I won. But that's beside the point, sort of.), we ate some more, got some Chinese food from the only place in the county that is open in this "blizzard", and then had dessert cuz we haven't eaten enough the last 3 days.

It was fun, arguing was at a minumum except while playing Last Word, and only one minor altercation broke out. (We mean business playing a board game) And as much as I hate snow, I'm kind of grateful for the chance it gave us to slow down and have one more "day off" this holiday season, enjoying some of our favorite things together..like, eating and being competitive.

Hope you were able to enjoy it too! What are some of your favorite things to do on a snow day?

Scraps of Magic

These are little scraps of magic & when you paste them together 

you get a memory of something fine & strong, she said. / Story People

Wishing each of you a Merry Christmas...filled up with your own scraps of magic.

 For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, 

which is Christ the Lord. / Luke 2:11

Check out more shots at The Paper Mama

The Light

We're surrounded with lights during Christmas. Christmas trees, candles, houses lit up from roof to yard, I even saw a lady at my church with a necklace of flashing Christmas lights.

I love all these lights, and periodically get fussed at by Merrick if the Christmas tree is not on and ready when he wakes up in the morning, We took the kids on the tacky light tour again this year, and thankfully this time everyone was tall enough to see out the windows. That led to much less weeping and gnashing of teeth. Mine and the kids. 

I'm grateful for the reminder these lights give me (yes, even my neighbors tacky flashing display that seriously makes me want to close the blinds and open them in January). It's pretty stinking dark out here in the woods without lights. It would also be pretty stinking dark in my life without the reason behind all of this Christmas celebrating.

"Hallelujah, we’ve been found
A child is born to save us now
Hallelujah light has come, 

A Savior who will set us free
A Promise for those who believe."

Don't Step on My Grandmas

That sounds like something you already know. It's probably not nice to step on Grandma. Depending on the grandma, you might get swatted. I wouldn't want to step on either one of my grandma's. One probably would swat me, the other can't really see well enough to know who might have stepped on her, so you might get away with it.

But in reference to "grandmas" we aren't talking ladies with walkers or who make knitted hats, or even one of those grandmas who spends her retirement in Florida. Definitely not one of the ones who gives the kids too many sweets or buys them toys they don't need. We're talking about Merrick's plastic nativity set.

Yeah, I was confused too. But apparently, nativity sets are called "grandmas". I figured this little riddle out one morning when I couldn't figure out why Merrick kept telling me "not to step on his grandmas". And then I was yelled at moments later for "picking up his grandmas". That finally clued me in.

The only reason I can figure he thinks a nativity is a grandma, is that he got it from his great-grandma. When you're 3, I suppose that makes perfect sense. And who am I to argue with a 3 year old? He's always right. ;)

Check out more shots at Perceptive Perspectives, Sweet Shot, Trendy Treehouse , and Simplicity 
(The last shot is my pick for this week)

Cup o' Christmas

This week I've already been really tempted to jump into a lot of activities, the hustle and bustle, the fun craziness of the week before Christmas. And not that the hustle and bustle are bad necessarily, but I don't want to run myself or the kids ragged, and not take the time to be still and slow down. Just enjoy the moment.

Christmas is such a fleeting thing. Something we look forward to all year. I want to enjoy it (and all the things that it means) and teach my kids to do the same. To sip it slow like a good cup of coffee, making it last and enjoying it to the last drop. Letting the warmth fill you up so you have it to share with the people around you.

This year, this week before Christmas, and all the days in between now and next Christmas, I want to give my kids/family/friends the gift of a mother/wife/friend who's at peace, present in their lives and ready to enjoy it with them.

You keep him in perfect peace
whose mind is stayed on you,
because he trusts in you. / Isaiah 26:3

Check out more shots at Lisa's Chaos and Allie Photography

The Upside

I recently posted about how I hate the white stuff. I don't want to mention it's name, I feel like it's kind of like a cold. If you admit you're getting it you're a dead man. If I admit it (*shhh...*) snowed, it might do it again.

I did realize that there are upsides to snow, however. My hubby got to come home from work early twice this week. And he brought me food. Always a good thing...I do like to eat. And it's always nice to have backup with the kids, who can smell exhaustion like blood hounds.

Also it makes for great pictures of the kiddos. One kiddo didn't mind the snow so much, the other kiddo kind of looks like she's not impressed. I think it was mostly these boots I put on her, which were ridiculously too big. Sorry kid. I'll try to find you some boots once we dig out of here.



Another good thing about the snow is all the goofy things my kids say as they learn about something new. I love watching them learn and grow, but at the same time? Ouch...just stop. You don't have to get any bigger, babies. You're already not "babies" anymore. I wouldn't mind if you slept a bit longer, but that's about it. ;)

Check out more winter shots at The Paper Mama 

(the first shot is my pick for this week)

My Grinch Feet.

I keep hearing the quote in my head from The Grinch that says "And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow...". No, I'm not the Grinch, but I do hate snow. *ducking* I mean, really, it's gross. I liked it when I was a kid, and I'm really not sure when I stopped liking it, but I did.

Don't get me wrong, I don't care if  you like it. I do wish people would stop praying/rain-dancing/begging with God for it to come our way...but I don't mind if you like it. That is until I see those little flurry fluffs of sky-dandruff raining down on me. Those deceivingly pure-looking frozen water monsters out to get my already cold toes.

I think I'm just bitter about it, if I'm honest. I'm bitter that I don't get a snow day. I've never gotten a snow day. (Someone please call a counselor, this is about to get ugly.) I was homeschooled, (which I loved, fyi) and my mom missed the memo about "snow=no school", I went to a university that shared my mom's snow policy, and now I'm a SAHM, Snow day for everyone else is code for "help me I'm stuck in the house and the kids tied me up in the closet". Ahem, mom if you are reading this...I love you. :)

I'm really being dramatic, but honestly I think me and snow might get along a little bit better if I hadn't been deprived of my human right to a snow day. Hopefully with a little counseling and a snow day or two I'll be on the road to recovery. But I'm not sure me and snow will ever be able to look each other in the eye again without some tension.

 

Dreaming?

Maybe I am just dreaming...or is it finally true that Tizzy's hair, all 5 strands of it, are finally long enough to do this with?

Before you judge my hairstyling skills, please remember I'm better at photographing the hairstyles, not the actual putting them on people's heads. And you should see my hair...I can assure you this looks like a prom up-do compared to my (just got back from a 5 mile run) ponytail.

I think it's ridiculously cute...but I thought those little headbands I always put on her were ridiculously cute too, only to have my dad make fun of them. So I can never be too sure. ;) I'm a little insecure when it comes to hair. Too much tom-boying it when I was a kid and not enough learning how to fix my own hair.

I'm hoping to right this wrong when it comes to Tirzah. Not that I'm encouraging the wearing of tons of make-up. She can be all the tomboy she wants (and I think with a brother who teaches her the latest wrestling moves, she won't be able to help it) but I do want to help her learn to fix her hair/do her make-up if she so chooses. With any luck she'll be really good at it, and can fix my hair.

Check out more shots at Shutter Love and Sweet Shot 

(The first shot is my pick for this week)

Seasons Greetings

I'm a big loser when it comes to Christmas cards. I love getting them, but do I ever send them? Negative. I always think I might, I look at photo cards online, I check out deals, etc. But never follow through. I'm a one-way Christmas card recipient. Shame on me.

So it's kind of funny that I've been shooting for people's Christmas cards this season. In a wierd way I kind of feel like a traitor. Like the chef who won't eat his own cooking, or the mechanic who won't drive his car. Well, that may be extreme, but it's just ironic I guess. And makes me feel even more guilty. ;)

Obviously, this isn't me, or my kids in these pictures. These are of a sweet family I got to shoot on Saturday. This little lady was not impressed with my camera, and gave me a very serious stare for about an hour. It's ok. I have it coming...my kids (when I can get them to look at my lens) love to cheese. I told her mom I needed someone to make me work for it. And she's pretty stinking cute without the smile anyway.

So maybe this time next year, I'll be posting about how I actually sent my own Christmas cards...but probably not. I know how I am. ;)

Check out more shot at The Paper Mama and Allie Photography 
(The first shot is my pick for this week)

The Bucket List Cat

Yeah...that title didn't make any sense to me either, really. After a day of puke, not much makes sense. I wasn't the one puking, however. It was the 1 year old. (Who ironically isn't pictured in this senseless blog post.)

She's such a good puker...which probably makes even less sense. She just pukes and goes about her business. I guess she's gotten the hang of it. She's been doing it since she was born. (he had reflux as a baby) She seems to get kind of carsick...because it happens a lot in the car. Which is a whole extra round of puke-smelling fun to clean. (Have you ever cleaned puke out of a carseat? Ohmuhgosh.)

I say all of that to explain to you why the title of my blog made me laugh till I cried. I know, you're thinking, it's not that funny. After several pukes, and temper tantrums from the 3 year old, we finally were able to settle down for the evening and just hang out at home. (No more puking) Merrick is starting to play imaginary games, but isn't to the stage yet where he's embarrassed when you catch him. Which added together is pretty much hysteria.

After he had a very long and serious chat with Buzz Lightyear about how he needed Jesus in his life and told Buzz his attitude was "not neccesawy" (and no, I'm not making that up) he proceeded to pretend he was one of my mother's cats. He curled up in this bucket, and meowed and pretended to snore for a good 10 minutes. He said his name was "Frankie". My mom's particularly fat cat. I assumed it was safe to call the being in the bucket Frankie, but I was wrong.

I asked "Frankie" was he ready for bed and he snapped, "I'm not Frankie. I'm (wait for it...) THE BUCKET CAT! Why aren't you laughing? I guess it's just exhaustion on this end...but I laughed till I snorted. Which, admittedly doesn't take much. The older I get the more I snort when I laugh. Cute, huh? Anyway...that's all I got. Hope none of you has to clean up any puke today.

Tangible

So much of our lives around here is documented. Funny thing, I'm a fairly private person, in person. But have no qualms with tweeting information that makes my mom cringe. (I can't count the times she's told me "don't tweet that!) When it comes to "documenting"...I'm not a scrapbooker, or a journal-er, or a baby-booker. I'm a photographer. I'm so visual with our memories. Apparently too much so for my mom's tastes. ;)


As much as I love how easy it is to tweet, blog, snap, flickr, etc...it's still sweet to hold those freshly printed shots in your hand. To see how your hard work looks outside of a computer screen. To look at those memories in 3D.

I'm glad for all the digital memories I have from our life...but it's nice to have something tangible, too. Every once in a while I actually print out something I've shot. And I still act like a kid who just developed a roll of film from summer camp. I love showing off my kiddos on the walls of our home, instead of just on my facebook wall.

I hope to keep up the habit of printing off pictures. I'm awful about photo albums, picture frames, etc. (Ironic in a family where my camera is our third child, huh?) I want to be able to give more than just a pile of DVD's to my kids (or who knows what else we'll be using to save stuff) one day.

I love the memories that we are making together everyday, and there's something special about holding those memories in your hand, passing them on your way down the hall, or carrying them around in your wallet.

Wild Memories

Not sure what it is about the holidays, but they always have you reflecting, remembering, looking back at years gone by. I don't think that's a bad thing...as long as you aren't living in the past and are enjoying the here.

This year is no different. I'm remembering this time last year, and thinking about how fast my little ones have grown and changed. Last year we were just coming out of that newborn stage, barely through that sleep-deprived stupor that characterizes new parents. Add the pertussis scare to that and all we wanted for Christmas was a good night's sleep.

This year...Tirzah isn't a newborn anymore, and Merrick is even wilder than last year. (I now realize Dennis the Menace isn't fictional, and he lives in my house.) We're getting more sleep this year, when the kids are that crazy all day they have to sleep good. Well they dont have to, but don't tell them that.

Even though everything's changed...there is one thing that hasn't. They still scream and run and resort to unimaginable tactics when I try to get pictures of them. Well, two things haven't changed...Tirzah still doesn't have any hair for me to play with. Maybe by the time she is going to senior prom?

I kid about my wild kiddos all the time (but I'm really not kidding about the wild part...), but honestly I'm glad they haven't changed in that respect. They are so full of life and laughter, and remind me to be the same way. If nothing else at least they keep me in good shape running after them.

Check out more shots at Perceptive Perspectives and Sweet Shot Tuesday

(The first shot is my pick for this week)