Waiting

Mine is a story familiar to many suburban mamas of school-aged children, I'm sure.

With three kids in three different schools, much of my life is spent waiting. Waiting for a school bus, waiting in car line, waiting for grades to come out, waiting for a kid or two to get ready or to finish their homework. Waiting for music lessons to start and finish, waiting in lines, waiting for our name to be called up on the "choice school" waiting list, waiting at red lights from one thing to the next.

We all need an abundance of downtime, so I am very intentional about our family not overextending ourselves. Each kiddo gets to pick one extra-curricular thing per season (if anything at all). Also, I try not to schedule more than one event per day for us, for the sake of my own sanity. Sometimes I'm great about that, but other times it can't be helped. However, there are still the end-of-school events and project presentations and honor roll assemblies, class programs and concerts and volunteer lunches to attend and field trips to chaperone.

Today, Parker had state testing for reading comprehension. Since he's in Virtual School, I had to bring him to the school board across town, to test in a classroom there. A couple hours of testing today, a couple more hours tomorrow, a few hours next week and again the week after that.

So. Many. Tests.

Is it summer yet??

Until then, I sit and wait for my kids. And wait a little more. I work in between dropoffs and pickups and lessons and dinnertime. I schedule sessions while I'm at bus stops and I plan my month out during the few hours of alone time I get each week. It's just the season we are in right now. Shifting tides, balancing acts.

Life is fluid like that. 

After Parker's testing ended today, we had lunch and then sat at a coffee shop to finish his school and my work. He wanted to sit in the sunshine, I wanted to sit in the shade. So we both got a bit of alone time. It was such a nice day and I almost wish that we could have stayed longer. 

But then again, we still have tomorrow to sit and wait. And next week. And the week after that.

Heirloom Peonies

Peony season is quite possibly my favorite. It reminds me of slow summer days in Kentucky and the smell of freshly cut grass. It reminds me of our green house on Damron Branch with the big yard and the peach and apple trees. It reminds me of my sisters, playing between our mom's four peony bushes in the backyard. Slender stems holding heavy, snowball-shaped blooms that dipped toward the ground due to their weight. Dad would mow them down every Fall and I'd be so shocked that he was mowing down Mom's flowers. I remember running to tell her what I saw happening, sure that she would be angry. I didn't know that was what made them come back next year. 

Peonies remind me of all of my grandmas. Momaw Bertie could grow them beautifully, and so could Momaw Jiggs. Momaw Jiggs had these gorgeous blooms (below) in the corner of her property. This particular plant belonged to my Momaw Grace before that, and the roots came from her mom, my Granny Houck. Who knows how many generations before them started this beautiful thing. 

What is even sweeter is that my two sisters now have this dark pink peony plant that you see above. They divided it last Fall, and it's blooming in their gardens this year. Five generations later, or more. Nature is amazing! And so is my Popaw Deb for taking this Polaroid for us in the 1980s, so that we could reference all these years later.

Unfortunately for me, peonies won't grow in Zone 10. But I watch my local Whole Foods (Countryside Mall for my local friends who want to fight me over their supply, haha) and grab up as many bunches as I can. And then I photograph them so that I can enjoy them on my walls the rest of the year.

If you'd like a peony print for your own walls, you can purchase them HERE. If you'd rather have one from this blog post, just let me know and I'll substitute for you. xoxo! 

The Window

Every morning I stand at this kitchen window to make my coffee.

While the water boils, I admire the African violets that remind me of Momaw Jiggs, that also grow in her very own planters. When the coffee is ready, I drink it from my Momaw Bertie's cups. I think about things that they used to say and do. And I pray for my Popaw Deb and Popaw Lucian who are missing them fiercely, but pushing forward.

It's sacred time for me.

I used to marvel at how this corner window was the only place in my house where things would grow well.

Now, I don't wonder anymore. It's growing me, too.

Nammie Bird's Cup

October 6 marked one year since my Momaw Bertie (short for Roberta) made her trip to Heaven. The second of my grandmothers to leave us. It was a sad day down here for us, and I miss her so much. 

Charlotte calls her "Nammie Bird" whenever she remembers her. It makes me smile because I guess she thought we were calling her Momaw Birdie. Don't you just love the way kids interpret things?

After she passed away, my mom brought me a few things that belonged to Momaw. She brought my girls a china doll apiece, because Momaw collected them. I let the girls admire their pretty dresses and their shiny curls, and then I put them up carefully out of reach, for when they're a little bit older. Parker got a few things that belonged to her too. I didn't want anything in particular, just a little something that belonged to her that was also useful to me and had a special memory associated with it.

So my mom brought me a few of her coffee cups. They're the perfect gifts, and they are the perfect memories.

I never remember my Momaw having anyone over without a fresh pot of coffee brewing. I never drank any of her coffee, strangely enough, because I didn't drink it much back in those days. But I remember the way she tucked her cup between her hands. Her cups weren't fancy. She picked them up at yard sales and Kmarts and the Goodwill. But they were hers. They were small, teacup size. And I use these beautiful gems every week. I think of her every morning and hope she's having a wonderful time in Heaven. 

I remember spending the night at her house many times, and waking up on her overstuffed pillows in her tall cushy beds, covered in quilts so warm, yet cool to the touch. There were always unforgettable smells of bacon frying, her famous biscuits baking and coffee brewing. She and Mom would be in the kitchen talking, sipping hot coffee out of milky white mugs. Popaw Lucian would come in, covered in lawn clippings or sawdust, always working first thing before it got too hot outside.  

I served my mother-in-law coffee in one of these precious cups when she was visiting us last month. Charlotte smiled up at her Grandma Nancy and said, "Dat was my Nammie Bird's coffee cup. She wivs up in Heaven wif Jesus." 

Do you think that there is coffee in Heaven? God is a good God, you know. :)

Not because we'd need the caffeine, of course, nor because we'd ever be thirsty. But because it's enjoyable and warm and it brings folks to the kitchen table (or the counter, at Momaw and Popaw's house) for another serving of warmth and laughter and togetherness.

I can't wait to enjoy Heaven with my Nammie Bird someday. I hope she will have a fresh pot of coffee ready for me.

On Turning Four

"I'm faw-uh now! Dat means I can go to pweschool and stay aww by mysewf!" ~Charlotte

Four years old. Oh my word. Friends, it seems like I just brought our last baby home in my arms. Now she's a big girl, so fiercely independent in all of her "lemme do it mysewf" business. She is fearless and sweet and compassionate and kind. She's spunky and friendly and makes us laugh constantly. 

She loves to dress herself. Many times, actually, over the period of a day. Girlfriend creates more laundry than the other two kids combined. She is not afraid to scale the pantry shelves like rungs of a ladder and scare me half to death. She asks politely for "water ice" instead of ice water. She thinks poptarts are miraculous. She is so kind to animals, and Crookie and Ace (mostly) love her because she will fill their food bowls without prompting if she notices that they are empty. (Ace sticks close to her at lunchtime because he knows she will toss him her bread crusts.) She despises naps but loves storytime, and always asks for "two stories at nap, three stories at bedtime". She loves for me to paint her nails, and has ruined at least three pieces of furniture by opening bottles of my nail polish without permission. (Motherhood is sanctifying, amen?) She swears her baby teeth are getting loose because her sister's are.  She can play Minecraft like a boss, if it involves spawning hundreds of animals all over the place and dropping lava on her siblings' houses. She is our butterfly, flitting and skipping as she runs. She is our tiniest girl, at just 26 itty bitty pounds. 

But this "tiny girl" marched right into preschool this morning and hugged her teacher (we are so blessed to have Miss Cloutier again, for the third time!). She hung up her lunchbox inside her cubby, put away her naptime blanket, washed her tiny hands, and went to play with her new friends. She is a big girl, after all, and she is so ready.

As for me, well, I may or may not have cried all the way home. :) 

Maybe you're sad or "just sentimental" today, or maybe you're doing handsprings over having a quiet house for the first time in years! Or maybe you're just looking ahead at future school days while you still hold your little ones in your laps. 

No matter what stage of life we're in these days, we can be so thankful. Here's to being inspired by our kids. Let's all be brave, fearless, excited for what may come, ready to show the big world our gifts. Let us be compassionate and kind, open and willing, and ready with a smile for whatever life holds for us. Let's laugh and walk right in.

"She is clothed with strength and dignity, and she laughs without fear of the future." -Proverbs 31:25

Endless Summer

This summer has flown by. I say that now, but then in the next moment it feels like we've done so many things and have spent so many mornings and afternoons and nights together.

I still don't want summer to end.

June held the end of school for the two older kids, a bit of finishing up for me, Lila's first ballet recital, her seventh birthday, the arrival of her long-awaited mermaid tail and then exciting pool days, lazy mornings together, all the peonies, playtime with neighbors, nighttime hide-and-seek (the boys call it Manhunt), and video games and Minecraft until I'd get frustrated and confiscate all the screens. (I know I'm not the only mama to do that!)

//

July brought a trip for Parker and Lila to North Carolina and Kentucky, and lots of one-on-one snuggle time for Charlotte. We hosted visits from both sets of the kids' grandparents, visits from neighbors and friends, and visits of fleas for Ace. July marked the start of gymnastics classes for the girls, and rain every day of the month except six. Honestly, we trekked through rain everywhere we went, and lightning scattered us from our neighborhood pool on several occasions.  We ate ice cream, played board games, watched movies, read books, went to the zoo and splashed in puddles. 

So far, August has rained every single day, and has flooded our little neighborhood as well. Our retention ponds overflowed, and our neighbors with full-to-the-brim pools had to drain them into the street to keep their homes from flooding. Parker saw a duck swimming across our street. Frogs and tadpoles were displaced onto the grass, the sidewalks, and everywhere you looked. Tadpoles swam down the sides of the road where the puddles were deepest. There were even catfish walking in the cul-de-sac. Crazy. Town.

Waiting for the sun to shine

My early bird. My happy girl. Charlotte is up with the sun, always cheerful and always hungry. 

This morning she opened our door and said she couldn't find Baby. So I stumbled around bleary-eyed, looking under her covers, under beds, in their closet... until I remembered that she had fallen asleep in my arms last night before our guests left. I had carried her to bed and covered her up, sweet girl, and pulled her mosquito net around her, without remembering to tuck Baby in with her. Luckily, I found Baby "playing hide and seek" behind a couch cushion, and we averted tears and a crisis. She even snuggled back in between Chris and me and we all dozed off for a few precious minutes. Hallelujah.

When Chris kissed us goodbye this morning, Charlotte was still snoozing. She woke up just a minute after he'd gone and immediately asked for him. I told her that Daddy had kissed her cheek before he left for work. Darling and literal as she is, she felt around for his kiss on her cheek but couldn't find it. :)

She saw light coming through the blinds and asked me to open them so she could watch the sunshine come up over our neighbor's house and the big oak tree out back. So we watched. And waited. In her beloved little orange polka dot dress (thank you, Laura) that she has worn for the past five days in a row. I choose my battles wisely, folks.

This girl is such a gift. Unexpected as can be, she is beautiful proof that God knows what He's doing, even when we do not. 

It is such a pleasure to have this bit of alone time with her this summer, while my older two sleep the morning away. I may not always be happy to be awaken before the sun rises, but this little gift of ours is just so darn sweet, that I can't help smiling at her every time she climbs into our bed. 

Have a wonderful weekend with the ones you love, my friends.

Miss Macy

My sister pretty much rocks. And so does her family.

Their strength is inspiring, their faith amazing. It was a treat to photograph them during my trip to Kentucky this summer, and my privilege to share their images with you here.

Sweet When They're Asleep | What I Love About Being a Mama

"God gives us kids so we'd know how He feels about us."  - Bob Goff

Do you ever wonder if God looks down on us throwing our "tantrums" and disobeying Him, and instead of getting angry with us, He just thinks, "but she looks so sweet when she sleeps."  And then He is merciful to us, and forgives us when we ask Him to.  He shows us grace instead of the justice we deserve.

I don't always show grace and mercy to my kids.  Sometimes consequences are necessary.  They do receive their fair share of discipline and guidance, and I am quick to throw out the "no screens for a week!" card when the rules are intentionally broken or one kid is picking on another.  But I yell too loudly, and too often.  I lose my patience more quickly than I'd like to.  Sometimes I forget to return a permission slip, or I have to break a promise.  I don't always have it all together; in fact it's a rare day when I actually CAN say that I have it all together.  I let them play electronics more than I probably should.  I nag them about their chores and I expect far more help around the house than they ever want to give me.  Sometimes we have to say, "sorry, no company today," or skip a class birthday party.  (Speaking of which, I did not send in cupcakes for Parker's birthday last month and we didn't throw him a big party, and I did not feel guilty about either one.)  I'm not always attentive, my iPhone is in my hand far too often, and I do not bathe them every single night.  Poor Lila has been asking for gymnastics classes for over a year now, and I've yet to sign her up.

But.  BUT.  I open my arms to them when they creep into my bed in the middle of the night, scared from a bad dream or that monster under the bed.  I hold her like a baby because she asks me to.  I show him how to stick up for himself and how to be polite and how to respect women and teachers and grandparents and adults.  I know each one of their unique love languages and use them to lavish affection upon them as often as I can.  I pray with them and for them and in front of them.  I read an extra chapter at bedtime just because.  I love their Daddy absolutely to pieces and try to set an example for them for how a strong marriage should be.  I teach them good manners 24/7 it seems (oh little boys, you are so gross).  I tell them about God's love for them and about Jesus' sacrifice and about Heaven waiting for us someday.  I encourage sharing and respectfulness and kindness and asking nicely and thinking of others and not spending your allowance all in one place.  I am real with them and show them that I am human as well, and I try very hard to explain truths to them in ways they can best understand them.  I chaperone field trips and help with homework and shuttle them to school and soccer practice and birthday parties.  I pack Lila's gluten-free school lunch every single day and I bake gluten-free brownies and buy gluten-free cookbooks and make homemade granola bars because they love them and eat them all up within a day.  I nurse fevers and administer Tylenol and hold cold washcloths on their foreheads and pour orange juice and hold their hands and say extra prayers.  I change wet sheets and find missing blankies and dolls and I French-braid hair over and over until it looks like Elsa's.  I "holdju" and help them clean up their messes, and I fix endless meals and snacks and cut off all the crusts.  And I love them, fiercely.  With all my heart and then some.

I'm not the perfect mama, because there is no such thing.  Repeat after me, THERE IS NO SUCH THING.

But I'm the perfect mama for my children.  And that is enough.  Because He says it is.

I'm convinced that Bob Goff had it right when he stated the quote above, and I am trying daily to view my children the way God sees them. I want to parent them the way God parents us.  He's not always gentle (after all, even natural consequences do sting), but He always cares for us and even His discipline comes from a place of love and protection and guidance.

Being a mama is a full-time, exhausting, rewarding job, no doubt.  And if I do all of those things above and more, can you just imagine all the little things that God does for us, day in and day out?  And even after we've been disobedient and rude and disrespectful, He still thinks we are worth saving.  That we still look sweet when we're asleep.

Just like our babies.

xoxo,

Stacey

A little break, and some recognition too. | Mother's Day Photo Sessions

You deserve a break.  You deserve a little recognition too, for all you've accomplished.

Whether you work from home, at home, or away from home, I know that you are busy 24/7, and that you have a BIG JOB no matter what.

Just think about the roles you play on a daily basis...

• You're a mama.  And maybe a wife, a fiancee, a sister and a daughter.  And maybe you play the role of Daddy most days too, which means that you totally win my award for Parent of the Year.  Hats off to you, my sweet friend.
• You're dependable, and you're always the friend with diaper wipes on hand or a safety pin in an emergency or the number for a fantastic hairstylist / dermatologist / family photographer (ahem) and your friends just adore you for it.
• You're a full-time nurse, and the most fantastic splinter-surgeon with the coolest band-aids ever.
• You're a nutrition expert.  You are a sous chef for picky eaters and kids with three different food allergies and a gluten sensitivity.  You're also a server.  (And the entire clean-up staff, most times, if we're being honest.)
• You're a taxi driver to ballet classes, a baseball coach, a cheerleader for your son's soccer team and an expert time manager to just keep up with it all.
• You're a housekeeper, a lunch-packer, and a laundry specialist. (My most favorite made-up title to date, ha!)
• You're an infant-sleep-expert by now, and a toddler-tantrum-diffuser as well.
• You're a psychologist.  (Even mamas of the youngest babies have to know a little "sly-chology" from time to time.)
• You're still in school, and will be for as long as your kids need help with homework and science fair projects and book reports and learning how to write cursive.
• You're a stylist for your family's wardrobe, your little girl's hair (and your own), and a master at finding tiny lost shoes under beds at the last minute.
• And let's be honest.  (I already know anyway.)  You're a photographer too. :) You've got thousands of photos on your iPhone, your point and shoot, or your dSLR.  Your Facebook timeline is peppered with photos of your children, and who could blame you?  They ARE adorable, we all agree.

However.  YOU are rarely in the photos.  And if you are, it's just a quick snapshot taken by Dad or a passerby at the beach.  (Sorry, Dad, we know you mean well.)

But guess what?  That's not enough.

You deserve more.

You deserve a professional photo shoot with you and your little ones snuggling and singing and holding hands and swinging and laughing and hugging and tickling each other and giving Eskimo kisses.

That would make the perfect Mother's Day gift, wouldn't it?  Either from someone else, or even as a gift you give to yourself (and indirectly, to your children as well).

And my whole reason -- my very heart's desire -- for this special event is that it might just give you a little encouragement to pull that mini-album out of your purse during soccer practice or week's they're away at camp.  It might make you stop and be grateful for these fleeting moments when you look at that sweet framed photograph on the wall, after dropping them off at preschool (or middle school) on the first day.  It may make your celebrations sweeter to be able to flip through photo albums with your children each year, as you reflect on how much they've grown, and they see through your photographs just how much they were loved, even way back then.

Photographs of my children are my most treasured material possession.  They are what we will grab in an emergency, only after each other.  They cannot be replaced or duplicated or substituted.

And you deserve them on this special day... the day that reserved just for hardworking, well-intentioned, sacrificing Mamas like you.  No matter if your children are still babies or if they are teenagers already.

It would be my honor to give you such a gift.

Session availability is extremely limited, and mini-sessions begin tomorrow.

Friday morning, April 11th Friday evening, April 11th Saturday evening, April 12th

Several sessions have already been booked, but there are a few openings left.

They are waiting for you.

Reserve your Mother's Day Mini-Session now by calling 727-698-0344 or by replying to this email. Your Session Fee will be required to book; all major credit cards are accepted.

xo, Stacey