Making Memories

Is there anything more delightful than the conversations that take place between an adult and a young child? The following are little snippets of conversations between Scott, me, and our grandson, Janzen.

Me-Me to J:  What would you like for breakfast?
J: Pizza.

J to Papa: Where is all your hair?
Papa: Your mommy made me lose it all.

J talking to himself: I need to put on my glasses so I can see. (Of course, J doesn't wear glasses he just hears the various grandparents say this).

Scene: J and Papa sitting side-by-side on the couch.

J: Say 'scuse me.
Papa: 'Scuse me.

Papa: I don't know how to play this game.
J: You just have to move the stylus, hon. (Said in his most patient 3 year old voice).

Me-Me: Let's wash you up.
J: I don't like being clean, I LIKE being dirty.

And randomly:   J: Can you help me get back to the main menu?

We had a wonderful week with Janzen at our house. My heart is full and I hope that J will have memories of it for a long time to come. He discovered our pool and spent a lot of time in it with his Papa. We read stories, J is a big fan of Dr. Seuss. We walked to the park where J made a new friend named Blaze that played on the equipment with him and Papa. We played with J's innumerable matchbox cars, made roads out of rocks on the patio and had a substantial excavation site. He is our first grandchild and such a delight to have around.

Kallista who is affectionately referred to as Bobber, Bobbi or any derivative you can think of,  is a water baby through and through. She floated around the pool happily for long periods of time. While she didn't stay with us we got to see her quite a bit and we were delighted to spend time with her. Though she looks a lot like J in many ways she definitely has her own little personality, mostly a sunny one. While she had a cold while she was here and was teething she was still a happy little girl. She loves her brother and works hard to keep up with him. She is just this side of walking and can get anywhere she wants to go without any trouble. Next time we see her she will no doubt be walking and giving J a run for his money! Kallista is a delightful treasure and I feel so blessed to have her in my life.

Sadly, our time had to come to  and end. Yesterday we drove Heather and the kids to the airport and said good-bye, I managed not to cry until we had left the airport. It was 1000 times worse when we got home because there were reminders of J in every room. Today has been a quiet day, too quiet. One grows used to the childish chatter and amazing laughter of a child very quickly and although Facetime is a wonderful thing it cannot replace the real presence of a child. We love you Janzen and Kallista, can't wait till next time! 

J and the Waterworks

                                   
This little guy is a real terrorist when it comes to the garden hose; He may not be tall but what he lacks in  height he makes up for with deadly aim. Once he figured out how to turn the hose on, there was no turning back. This particular day, he discovered the "mist" function and he had a blast soaking himself and anyone else who came within shooting distance.     

On another day he helped Me-Me wash her rig and it was toss-up who got the better wash job, Me-Me or the rig. At one point (AFTER he had soaked me) I turned around to find him in the suds bucket, sitting on the edge and scrubbing himself with the brush for the wheels. He's a very helpful and thoughtful little boy.

In the picture below you can see our other little terrorist, Maverick, our toy poodle. Janzen and Maverick are often partners and I am still unsure of which one of them plots their crimes.

And don't let this picture fool you, they both look innocent but looks can be oh-so-deceiving! This is probably immediately prior to their diabolical scheme to take over the neighborhood.

So, if you are minding your own business in your neck of the woods and you see these two coming your way, walk, don't run, to the nearest water shut-off or grab a large beach towel and prepare to have your second shower of the day!

NOTE: This is a blog post that I thought  I had lost! It is from the summer of 2010 and I thought it was worth posting.  =) For any of you who don't know this our grandson, Janzen.

A Mother's Love

I love the smell of freshly painted, well, anything. It took me the longest time to figure out why this was true.


I was the youngest of four girls when I was growing up. And no, I don't feel like I got the short end of the stick for being the youngest. Sure, I wore hand-me-downs occasionally, but I also had many clothes that were custom-made for me by my mother. Mind you, I wasn't smart enough to realize that at the time, but I have come to understand and appreciate it since then. But I digress. As a child growing up in a family of six with sort of four bedrooms, two things were true: Someone had to share a bedroom with someone else, and while my parents never seemed to mind sharing, we siblings were less excited about it. And second, the youngest child was the last one's opinion to be polled regarding bedroom choices (or anything else, for that matter). All that to say that when my two older sisters moved out a whole new world was opened up and I got to move from my less-than-coveted bedroom downstairs to the grown-up world of upstairs bedrooms. Trust me, this was a big deal, of course, I was still second in line for choices so my sister Kat, got the smaller room with the door that locked, which worked great for her. Unfortunately, she had to pass through my much larger, but less private bedroom, to get to her room, but that is a story for another time.

There are many things I could tell you about my bedroom, all of them cool, but there was no heat to the upstairs, so truthfully, it was far cooler than I would have liked. Back in those days I was still the recipient of my great-grandmother’s annual flannel nightgown (a tradition that my mom pragmatically continued) which was most useful for wrapping around the lower extremities to aid in the prevention of frostbite and least useful for the quick escape to the warmth of the downstairs, come morning. My room was not your typical 10 x 10 that you have in more modern homes and there was nothing square about it. It had alcoves where the windows were and most of the walls were sloped (which was murder if you sat up to abruptly in bed). Another big plus was that the walls were so old and beat up that my parents really didn't care what I pinned  up, so the whole room was a bulletin board, which was amazing (and cool), but not so pretty.

I don't remember how it all came about but eventually my parents decided to remodel the upstairs. My favorite color at the time was lilac and I wanted everything to be lilac. We had a huge lilac bush that I loved to pick bouquets from, I had a lilac solid-perfume, pens with purple ink, I even had a pair of purple and lilac striped pants, and yes, they were cool. Needless to say that room was going to be lilac or I wasn't the youngest daughter-with-her-daddy-wrapped-around-her-little-finger. Unfortunately for my mom, my dad wasn't the one making my dream come true. Those walls were old, beat up, and had several layers of wallpaper that all had to be dealt with. It was a monumental task that my mom took in stride and I certainly never heard her complain about it. I have no recollection of how long it went on, what I do remember is the day it was completed. I came home from school and my mom couldn't wait to show me. We went upstairs and the most beautiful lilac bedroom was revealed. The walls were perfectly smooth and painted in the most beautiful shade of lilac that you can imagine, mom had made matching lilac sheers for the windows and I can't tell you what was on my bed, but I know that it matched. Permeating it all was the smell of fresh paint.

 Since that day I have always loved the smell of fresh paint because I understand that the smell of fresh paint is equivalent to a mother's love and sacrifice.

NOTE: This isn’t my bedroom but the color is pretty close. As far as I am aware, there are no pictures of my beautiful Lilac Bedroom.

Pray

I made this sign recently and no, I didn't knit it. ;) I wish it was a better picture so you could see the antique finish I put on the (already antique) piece of wood. One wonders about that, doesn't one? Anyway, another thing you can't tell from the picture is that the piece of wood is actually curved which made it very interesting to figure out how to hang without it looking, well, dumb.

The wood is unique in that it used to be part of an old chair (which hopefully explains the odd shape) that has been in my family as far back as I can remember. Despite that, I deemed it no longer usable as a chair but definitely salvageable for my newest endeavor, making signs.

I spent quite a lot of time attempting to make the finish look antique and then it was just a matter of how to paint the letters on. This hobby is definitely in it's nascent stage and I am excited to see how I improve and progress.

I already have a large stash of antique wood, most of which used to be furniture just waiting for me to have the time and inspiration. Scott is starting to have some nagging worries about our remaining furniture.

 I wanted to start with a one-word sign so that I could work out the bugs that are inevitable with any new project. Because of the various issues that were unique to this piece of wood, I may do another one-word project on a more typical piece of wood. Then it is on to something more ambitious which I will be sure to share when it comes to fruition.

I am thinking it would also be cool to use old shingles or fencing.  Right about now Scott is very grateful that we have a block fence...

"Lord of all creation
of water earth and sky
The Heavens are your Tabernacle
Glory to the Lord on high

God of wonders
Beyond our galaxy
You are holy, holy
The universe declares your majesty
You are holy, holy




Early in the morning
I will celebrate the light
And when I stumble into darkness
I will call your name by night

God of wonders
Beyond our galaxy
You are holy, holy
The universe declares your majesty
You are holy, holy

Hallelujah to the Lord of Heaven and Earth"

There aren't words adequate to describe the emotion of witnessing your grandchildren, flesh of your flesh, come into this world. Both times I have been awestruck, overwhelmed, and truly humbled that I was allowed the privilege of being an eyewitness to this very private and joyous moment.

This is my second grandchild, Kallista Wakely-Rose, baby sister to her big brother Janzen Seth. I can say with complete confidence that there is nothing on this earth that compares to being a grandparent.

When you live in Washington you take the sun when you can find it. On this particular day in January the sun came out first thing in the morning never to be seen again that day.



And that is how the small joys in life often come to us, fleeting, and if we aren't paying attention, they are gone in a heartbeat.  When life deals you periods where grief seems all encompassing it is especially important to find those little bits of joy and sunshine and hang on tight,
because those are what will help bring you through the darkness and back into the light.

 The name of my blog is French and means "joy of life," and despite all of life's difficult seasons I really want to find those moments of joy in life. I want to deliberately choose not to stay in those painful places longer than is necessary to heal. I want to revel in being part of the plans that God has for me.
 
Joy may come in forms that we don't always recognize. It can be seen in: the unadulterated  laughter of a child playing a simple game of Peek-A-Boo, the discovery of the first flower of spring, in hearing a favorite song on your iPod, in the random smile of a stranger, in a compliment, in a job well done, and sometimes it may be something as simple as that first cup of coffee in the morning. You never know what form joy will take but one thing is certain, if you aren't looking for it you probably won't find it.

Relinquishing the Past

 

On the day that you give birth to your child there are no future peeks into the future, no way for you to comprehend the joy of watching them grow into adulthood and the painful wrench of watching them spread their wings and fly. It is, of course, the point of all your hard work and yet somehow, it comes upon you out of nowhere and you find yourself completely unprepared and incredibly sad.

 
I had the amazing privilege of having both of my daughters live at home until the their wedding day and it has been the delight of my heart.
 
Now I have come to this new place in life and when it came combined with the loss of my mom, I find myself not knowing exactly how to deal with it or if even want to. Somehow it seems like it would be easier to brush it all aside and move on, which is incredibly easy to do when school is so intense.

Just so it is clear, I am thrilled for my baby girl to be fulfilling her God-given destiny with the man God planned for her in His infinitely tender way; but there are times where it takes my breath away to realize that she won't ever come walking through my door in the same way as when  she lived here.

I know that with time acceptance will come, I just have to ride out the storm.

Meanwhile, enjoy the picture from the day she became Carlie-Rose Danielle Chrystella Geneva Scarbrough Madrid.