Happy Birthday, Ella!

My baby, Ella, is one year old today. The idea of having two children bewildered me throughout my pregnancy. DeLaynie and I were buddies, and I couldn't imagine having that kind of relationship with two people. Friends said that it wouldn't be that weird. I would love them equally, but differently. Then she came.

Her entrance into this world was just as uninteresting as any other. She wasn't pristine upon her arrival, but she was still lovely, just as all babies are, in their own way. She won the heart of her sister, but she didn't need to win anyone else's. We were hooked from the moment she grabbed the curtain that separated us from the doctors at work performing the C-section. (Yes, she physically grabbed it and tried to pull it down. That's my girl!)

She started growing right away...

And she hasn't slowed down since. (As she's grown bigger, she's also grown less patient with the stroller :).

The year has been incredibly fast, and incredibly sweet. I have watched my two daughters become two friends, and I have witnessed a tiny newborn grow into quite the big girl.

Ella, my darling baby, you are a treasure. God is working in you, and the results will be spectacular if you allow Him to be Potter, and you accept the wonderful position of clay. Although a part of me is anxious to see the results, most of my heart just wants to sit and watch it unfold. I am honored to be here for the journey, with all of the ups and downs that come with it. Never, ever doubt how much we, Mommy and Daddy, love you. Never question the love of your true Father, either. His plans are better than ours, and His ways are higher than ours. Trust Him, and He will make you into the woman that I long for you to become... just not too soon.

Birthday Party Reality Check

I'm really late in writing today's post because tomorrow is the big birthday party. It's not really that big as far as guests go. I was ridiculously late in getting invites out, and it's spring break, so not a lot of people are available. The bigness is derived from the fact that it's Ella's first birthday party, and it may be our last stateside party for a while.

As I was thinking through all of the preparations, I sat down and turned on the t.v. for a minute. The news was on, and after a few moments, a story segment came on about, of all things, birthday parties. There are more and more kids living in homeless shelters due to the recession, and many of them go through their birthdays without any celebration at all. There is an organization that goes to homeless shelters and throws birthday parties, complete with cake, goodie bags, crafts, games, and gifts, for the children whose birthdays were in that month. It's doesn't seem like that big of a deal when faced with homelessness, does it? But being young means celebrating each and every year. Having that day come and go without any recognition is a low-blow for a kid.

As my girls celebrate tomorrow, it's going to be easier to be thankful that God has provided us with a home, the money to throw an enjoyable birthday party, and two healthy little girls whose births we can celebrate. We could be in one of those homeless shelters. We could go to bed hungry. We could struggle with the decision to pay our power bill or our water bill. Instead, I struggle with eating too much, and Edwin struggles with waking up to the screams of a preschooler with excessively healthy lungs. Those struggles aren't struggles at all.

All of this philosophy has gotten me worked up. I think I'm ready to party!

Artistic Time Wasting

Mom took the girls to the zoo yesterday, along with a very helpful teenager. This left me and Edwin at home. I wasn't totally sure about what to do. I needed to clean and get ready for the girls' birthday party that's this Saturday. I did some of both after Edwin and I had a nice lunch date at the local Mexican restaurant. I have to admit, I didn't do very much of either. I ended up spending a lot of time trying to understand the finer points of focusing my camera. Here are the results of that excercise:

Yes, it was a colossal waste of time when there were so many other things to get done. But look at the pretty flowers... Maybe you'll forget how incredibly lazy I am if you stare at them hard enough?

Segregated Dirt

Last night I was outside taking pictures of the girls. DeLaynie and Ella were playing with the rocks on the driveway.

"Look Mom! Isn't this a neat rock?"

"Um, Mom? Is she eating that rock?"

By good providence, the Youth Dude, Youth Dude's Awesome Chick, and their three boys pulled into the church parking lot (our yard is adjacent to the church parking lot). It's a good thing that they did, because Ella had almost eaten all of the rocks out of the driveway. (No, not really. She never actually swallowed any, though she might have gotten some of that yummy dirt flavor off of them. :) We went over to the parking lot to prevent the Youth Dude family from getting any actual exercise, which was the reason that they came in the first place.

DeLaynie and Ella, being the oh-so-feminine little darlings that they are, instantly gravitated toward a pile of sand, dirt, and pea-size gravel. The eldest Youth Dude boy plopped down and joined in on the messy fun with DeLaynie and Ella. Unfortunately, DeLaynie is a little, um, stingy with her dirt. After a few minutes, the six year-old Youth Dude boy deserted the girls' pile.

He went from this pile...

to this pile. His brothers joined him after a couple of minutes. This left one dirt pile reserved for the ladies, and the other for the gentlemen.

Here I was, thinking we had come so far, but we can't even share a pile of dirt. The future may not be as bright as I had once thought. Granted, it was the fault of my own sex. My own daughter's selfishness has deepened the gender gap to a point that could possibly be beyond repair. We can still hope that it is possible to get past such a trench of distrust and selfishness.

Just 'Cause Everyone Else Does It...

So, here's the problem: the girls are going to have to share a room for at least the next year. Families all over the world have multiple children in one room. I know that it can be done, (Just deal with it, Hannah!) but we stayed at Edwin's dad and step mom's house for a couple of nights, and I find myself wondering how, exactly, that little arrangement is going to work. Every time one child was calm, the other struck up the ol' vocal chords and got to screaming.

They had as good of a one-room arrangement as we're ever going to get. It wasn't a problem of us sharing a room with them. It was an issue with them sharing a room together. Yet again, I know that this is really a non-issue in the long run. It will be good for them. All that jazz. Still, I'm rather fond of sleep. The lack of it seems to make everything else impossible. They kept the entire household up until sometime in the a.m. on Sunday night/ Monday morning.

I'm sure that this is just one more thing that God will take care of, even if the solution includes a lot of blood-shot eyes and tears. We begin the transition this week. It should be, a, um, growing experience for all :).

Why Is That?

Why is it that the second you get a toy picked up and put away, it suddenly becomes interesting again? I have put the same teas set away fifteen times. After a few minutes, DeLaynie gets distracted and goes to something else, but the second I put it away... that's right. She wants it back. It's not that she fights against me when I ask her to clean up, but once it's up, it suddenly begins crying out for play time.

Is there something in children that longs for disorder? Is it a secret plot to take over the world by driving us adults crazy? I don't know why, but I know that it is one of the few things that remains the same through time.

Happy Birthday, DeLaynie!

Three years, come and gone so quickly. When you first arrived, so tiny and pink, I knew that you were precious, but I didn’t know you yet. I held you. I fed you. I waited on your personality to emerge.

You became more and more lovely as the days went on. You became more and more of a daddy’s girl, too. I wasn’t sad. Or jealous. Okay, maybe a little. But I love it because I love you, and that’s who you are, my little one.

We brought someone else into your world. At first you weren’t happy, but she grew on you. Then it seemed a little like you were physically growing on her. You are a great big sister, and very proud of it, too.

You grew bigger. You grew smarter. You grew so fast. So often, you wiggle away from me. There’s just too much to do. Too much to see. There isn’t much time to sit and be held now. Every once in a while, you’ll show mercy, and allow me to squeeze you tighter, hold you closer, breathe you in deeper.

Very soon you’ll be a teenager. You’ll grumpily exhale the popular form of “Whatever!” as I cry the first time you say that you hate me. You won’t understand why a word would hurt so badly, just as you didn’t understand why an “I love you, Mommy,” meant so much the first time that I heard it.

For now, just let me sit here with you. Just let me take in each moment. Let me watch you as you change and grow. Let me be the one to comfort you on the days full of pain. Let me celebrate with you on the days full of joy. Let me be your mommy.