She Laughs at the Days

I thought of this post a few weeks ago on my first return to the mall since this event a year and a half ago. No one vomited this time, but were were sucked into the vortex nonetheless. This is a repost from the archives. It has come to my attention of late that the bras I bought a year ago are no longer doing the job for which they were fashioned. That job being to prevent my breasts from doing what nature intended, hang around my belly button. When I commented on this fact to Aaron he informed me that he had observed the same. If your husband notices the stretched out sags in your dormant bras you can be sure that it is time to get a new one. I said, "I have been waiting for a good time to spend the $30 on a new one but it hasn't come." "There will never be a good time," he responded, "just go and get one." To motivate myself I threw the no longer useful items away. What would I wear instead? Why, an old demi-bra from my lingerie shower befo

If you don't follow me on twitter or face book you may not know that since I wrote this post in October things have changed. My parents bought tickets for the other three kids and it all goes according to plan we are right now in the air on our way to Canada. We will be gone three weeks! I'm really excited. I get to show my kids my side of the family. I can take them tobogganing on my favorite hills and skating on the pond I grew up skating on. I hope my dad still has my skates hanging in the stairway of the basement. Mt sister and her husband are building a big snow cave in their back yard, just like we used to when I was little for the kids to play in. Our little wussy California butts will be freezing, but I'm looking forward to it. Aaron is staying home to work. That part is sad. We will miss him. Last night all the kids camped out in our room together so they could sleep with daddy before they leave. But, we have friends who suddenly needed to move back to C

I still stare at you, the long skinny girl in front of me and wonder where my chubby little baby girl with the rolls on your thighs that met all the way to your knees went. You taped your stick horse and scooter together all by yourself to pretend you were riding a horse. Now you are tall, beautiful, intuitive and articulate. I often think you aren't paying attention at all and then you surprise me days or weeks later by pointing at some plant or animal and telling me what it is and all sorts of details about it. You love animals, of all kinds. Kittens, dogs, birds, rodents, horses, you like them all. You will fearlessly pick up all sorts of bugs and make houses for them. You spent the summer catching butterflies. You actually caught quite a few. You are, however, afraid of spiders, because you know some are poisonous. You actually got him to sleep here.  You are an excellent big sister and a baby holding pro. I love having your help, and the way you run up and ask if

Actually, this is from the night before, Little's real birthday. I'm trying to make the actual day special even with a shared party by cake and presents then. This is the party. little princesses. :) Older pretty princess. She doesn't need a dress. Now I have to go and make a strawberry angel food cake for the Girl's actual birthday day tomorrow. and wrap her present. One day left before we leave for Canada.  Must find all their socks, and mine, it's snowing there.

Four years ago this time I was staring at the rug in our apartment trying to decide whether or not to vacuum or lay down because I was going to have a baby sometime soon. You surprised me you see. I thought I had 3 more weeks to get ready before you appeared. They were a busy 3 weeks too. The Girl's birthday, Christmas, Hannukah at your Beema's, New Years, and then a baby. But you had other plans. You wanted to be here for all of those things I guess. So December 17th, 2006 I found myself walking to Target, in labor. I needed diapers, and birthday present for your big sister. And in a misguided moment I blame on labor hormones I bought an awful Hannukiah that I later returned. I've been scrambling to keep up with you ever since. Now you are 4. You are a big sister. Though you are still very Little. I like your chirrupy voice, the way you come to hug me in the morning and say, "Good morning Mama." I like the way you are excited by simple things an

We sit and sort through tiny beads, searching for the right ones.  Stringing letters one by one we name the nameless, the forgotten, and abandoned, and beaten child . They are known. We know them. We send them proof. Cards and letters written specifically to each of them by the youth group at our church. Bracelets that say their name. A personal touch that reaches across oceans and around the planet and says, "We see you. We know you. We love you. We care." The staff at our local Trader Joe's donated art supplies to send to the kids at the Charis Home . This is how we prepare for the birth of Christ. Our table glitters with scattered beads. The den overflows with envelopes half stuffed with socks and hairbrushes, toothbrushes, glow sticks and art supplies. We sort and package treasures for children who think a simple balloon is a really great treat. We are sending children their first Christmas present. Ever. We labor toward the bi

It feels like you have always been here. It feels like time is going too fast and you are growing so quickly. You laugh now. We pivot around the sound, all pausing to listen and watch as the sound breaks from your little chest. We stop everything to make you do it again, and again, and again. You seem to like it best when you are startled. A sibling popping close to say "boo". A towel or pillow case snapping in your field of vision. You stiffen in surprise, consider for half a second, and then giggle in a way that almost sounds like a hiccup. But you also laugh for people when they are just silly. It's like you already have a sense of humor and can tell the difference between regular interaction and silliness for your benefit. You are getting stronger. You can lift your head off your car seat. You arch your back, and kick your feet and I'm sure rolling over is not that far away. You kick, and kick. It's so exciting. One night I was talking to you about

dried hydrangeas and a miniature teacup a sprig of oak from a nature walk So I'm taking a short break from telling you all about the kids in Thailand that need your help . Even though they do still really need you help. We've had 3 new supporters sign up in a week, which is awesome. It's a little short of the 300 we're hoping to get by the end of this month though. Normal people are probably trying to finish baking and gift purchasing and I'm trying to figure out how to feed, clothe and house a bunch of orphans for another year and package up the donated Christmas gifts we're sending. Is this, or is it not, a first world problem? I dunno. Anyway, I digress. We're talking about my kitchen. This post is inspired by Leila of Like Mother, Like Daughter, and her series on the reasonably clean house, and kitchen . She invited everyone to share their pretty sink and how it works in their kitchen. Aaron bought me this in Bali. I love it. It's

This is Suchart. He is 11 years old. When he grows up he would like to be a doctor and give treatment to kids who have burnt heads like him. Suchart was burnt by cooking oil with a heating pan, he can't see clearly now. His step-mother, who has since passed away, was violently abusive. Many step parents are where he comes from. Now he lives at the Charis Home and we are taking care of him and getting him medical treatment. Ashley was at the home this September. She met Suchart and said this about him. He has that story (of abuse), and then he's the kid who laughs and runs around more than any of the others. He chased me for an hour. I tickled him. When I began to get tired I made a lot of outrageous motions and he was one of the first kids to mimic me. The new game was mimic every move Ashley makes. He has an incredible smile when he laughs, very playful. We can't do this without you. Please consider giving just $10/month for 2011 to support The Charis