(building a rolly-polly house)

“Hey Logan, today is going to be a ‘Jonah day’ for you. You know why? ‘Cause I’m going to play with you all day long and be nice to you and make you breakfast and get you your me-me if you get sad.”

“I love you, Jonah…”

(spring hike at Charleston Falls)

Brace yourselves for a lot of photos.  We spent this most beautiful of beautiful spring days at Cox Arboretum.   It was, quite frankly, a selfish excursion because I have been on the hunt for a magnolia tree in bloom that I could get right up close to and draw, and since I haven’t found one conveniently in my own neighborhood I thought I surely would not go wrong there.  And I wasn’t.

But, the baby wasn’t as excited as I was about sitting in one place a drawing pictures.  I had to unstrap him and let him explore.

Can you see the maze wanderers?

It was such a beautiful day.  Things like this make me as excited as I would be at Disneyland.  Not that I’ve ever been to Disneyland, I’m just saying, I get very happy when I see wild animals basking in  the sun, posing for my camera.

Or, better yet, letting my kids join in the fun.

I must say that this has to be one of the single most beautiful things I have ever seen.  I cannot even put into words how excited I am about these 4 beautiful eggs, and I can’t think of a better farewell gift than a nest full of beauty right where I can spy on it.   I think I will probably have to print this photo really large and hang it in my house in Denver.  Thank you robins.  I will sorely miss you and my haven of trees.

I spoke in church today for the last time before we move.  Here’s my talk if you want to read it.

  to-see-things-as-they-really-are.pdf

I love Ohio in the spring.

Look what we’ve been watching be built at the end of our driveway:

We’ve seen the silly, scraggly, often muddy robin working and working on this nest– at eye level right in the best foot hold on one of the best climbing trees along the front side walk.  For her sake, and ours, I hope no one climbs the tree.  Hopefully we’ll have a robin  family to spy on!

hoary redpoll
Alaska, 1896

(photo from Audubonmagazine.org)

I can’t stop looking at these. There is something so magical and beautiful about a bird’s nest– so resourceful and intricate. And then there’s the eggs, the subtle colors, the perfect shape that are full of even more magic. Watching our bird friends visit our window, the sparrows shoving huge beakfuls of grass through the tiny door to their house, has really got birds on my brain. Stephani and her chicks are no help either, of course. All this has led Brenna and I on a chicken researching frenzy. As I prepare to turn our nest over to new inhabitants and daydream about setting up a new home for my own little brood, I can’t help but dream of having a few of these, and maybe this to keep them warm and snug.

This guy had a birthday on March 23rd. He’s six. Get that? SIX. My round faced, blue eyed boy has graduated from being a little kid to a just plain kid. I know it’s cliche, but I have to say it– they grow up so fast!! Was it really six years ago that my whole world got turned upside down by a rolly polly bundle of chubbiness that screamed and had to be held every second and ate like there was no tomorrow? Was it really six years ago that I learned that, no, I was not the world’s greatest parent because I had a bag full of tricks to get my one little child to behave and go to bed and say very cute things to strangers when I wanted her to– because NONE of those tricks worked anymore. No siree. Jonah came to humble me. He came out insisting that he get his way. He is strong willed and completely committed to the way things should be. He’s taught me that routine and structure are so helpful– like a skeleton to build a life on– that when we put first things first and work hard to make things go right at the get-go (instead of trying to fix problems when they arise) that there is peace, there’s fun, and we can live more in the moment.

I remember the Sunday right after he was born. Barry, Brenna, and my mom all went to church while I stayed home with my hungry little baby. He screamed for quite awhile and I snuggled and rocked him and looked into his familiar face. I knew he was mine and had been mine before. I sensed the peace and security of the place he had so recently come from– the familiarity of his Heavenly Father, the intense and perfect love he had been so accustomed to there in His presence, and now he was here with me. More than anything I felt keenly my responsibility to make him feel as safe and comfortable and loved here with me, in our home, as his spirit had felt not long before in the presence of God. And I looked at his helpless little arms flailing, looked in his gray, searching eyes, and I sensed the power of his spirit, and I sensed how shocking it must be to figure out this new little body. And then I thought of the Savior, the Creator of the world, of the universe, of worlds without end– that he, in his infinite power and glory, was born in a little body with blurry eyes and flailing arms. I cannot adequately describe all those feelings as my mind was opened to the wonder of a baby, of an eternal spirit in a new body, of my part in this whole miraculous thing. I can’t describe it, but I’ll never forget it– that experience of rocking my new sweet Jonah and knowing that more than anything else I needed to love– to be love, to be the embodiment of love for this little boy so he could remember where he came from and who he was meant to be. That was the gift of Jonah.

I just love him beyond description. I love all my children, but I love Jonah with a hard fought, hard won love– a love of growth and learning. He is strong and tender, and that is just how I feel about him. And love to grab his little face in my hands and look in his eyes and tell him, “I am so thankful to be your mama.”

(He had a ‘Mad Scientist’ birthday party. Here’s some pictures of the foaming monster experiments from his party.)

Over and out.

Well, last time I wrote we were just at the beginning of our puking diarrhea festivities.  I’ve had many days to deliberate over which is worse– washing gross cloth diapers or washing every single outfit the baby has after paper diapers have leaked all over them.  By the end of the week I decided the poop-keeping-in qualities of my cloth diapers far outweighed the convenience of throwing the disposables away because I had to do gross laundry regardless, and that way at least my baby had some clothes to wear.

Anyway, I think we’re really in the clear now.  Barry is in Denver with my camera, so by the end of this week we should be back to regular programing!! (knock on wood)