Baby - goerge MacDonald

Where did you come from, baby dear?
Out of the everywhere into the here.

Where did you get those eyes so blue?
Out of the sky as I came through.

What makes the light in them sparkle and spin?
Some of the starry spikes left in.

Where did you find that little tear?
I found it waiting when I got here.

What makes your forehead so smooth and high?
A soft hand stroked it as I went by.

What makes your cheek like a warm white rose?
I saw something better than anyone knows.

Whence that three-cornered smile of bliss?
three angels gave me at once a kiss.

Where did you get this pearly ear?
God spoke and it came out to hear.

Where did you get hose arms and hands?
Love made itself into hooks and bands.

Feet, whence did you come, you darling things?
From the same box as the cherub's wings.

How did they all just come to be you?
God thought about me, and so I grew.

But how did you come to us, you dear?
God thought of you, and so I am here. 

 

George MacDonald, thank you!  From the get go, I knew Who my children came from and its always been fun entertaining ideas of their celestial flight here.  

If theres a mud pit, Cora can find it.  She enjoys wallowing her little piggies in the squishy mud.  Mud, one of many preferred mediums for children to unwittingly create their own happiness.

A neighbor has a pig in our hood and he is soooo cuuuute and ugly!  I think Gunther would fall in love.  There has to be some way for those two to become friends.  This afternoon, Gunther found a roach ( my hands shiver with disgust even as I type that disgusting word) and I couldn't figure out if he considered it "friend" or "play thing".  His clumsy paws were so gentle with the thing with cracker wings.  He would create a circular environ with his head and front paw and check on it every now and then to make sure it was still on its back.  Then Ender couldn't stand it any longer, "Gunther's friend is gross" he says and runs it over with his bike.  Crunch.

I closed my eyes and thought of me and I saw a huge ship, heavy laden with a predisposition, baggage, old dogs with old tricks,the girth of cold steel, cutting slowly across a vast ocean.  My bones creak and groan against the harsh sea winds.  I'm built to withstand an ocean that wants to catch me in its current.  In other words, its rare for something to come along and get me to change course.

I read this.THE ACHE

And it wasn't so much the call of adoption that affected me; I've always wanted that for my family, but that's another story.

I've been on this path of caring about my insecurities.
Caring that ender lets Gunther in the house with muddy paws.
Caring that I have no idea how to be a hostess.
Caring that I'm not trendy.
Caring that we can't afford preschool for our kids.
Caring that the walls of my rooms are painted  the color of a big toe.
Caring that Ender can be stand offish towards other people. 
All this caring left me angry and hateful.  Its been putting a strain on Ender the most.  His knowing eyes are innocently accusatory and rightly so.

This woman spoke of something other than me.  She put me on a rocket ship and launched me to such a height that I looked down and saw nothing of my selfish worries, cares or insecurities.  I did see the only thing that one can see at that elevation.  I saw people. I saw the only thing that matters to God.

I'm not certain how this translates from me to the rest of the world, but I don't care anymore.  I don't want to care.   All I want to care about is the people God has given to be under my care, namely my little ones.  Yet, even if I pass a stranger in the grocery store, they are briefly in the care of my words or facial expression.  I lay aside the messy house and inability to create pintrest worthy snapshot of my life. I take up the mantle of not caring, that is, not caring about my insecurities.   When something comes along that typically has the power to morph me into a wicked witch I say "I don't care about you" and poof! the spirit of the witch recoils. In terms Zander and every other "grown" man who still plays video games would understand, " I leveled up".  I acquired a weapon unique to my games's character that will help me fight in the battle of good versus evil.

And if it is only and all for my children, then so be it.

Littleness

Everything about Cora is tiny (except her personality and belly).   Her room is tiny, too.  I especially don't mind this.  I love small spaces.  Your hedged into your small world, protected from the giants that roam.  In the morning the light makes a grand, but gentle entrance.
Her small room is just one manifestation of Cora's small and bright life.  

Last night she was running back and forth between zander and I planting her cold, wet kisses on our lips. From this little vessel I drink of God's eternal love and joy.  She is only human, though.  I think of her like the small faucet that is consistently open allowing water to pour out and flood the backyard garden.  She is not the source of water, but a conduit.  To be such a lowly device , always having the streams of living water flowing through you.

haha what a  ham bone.  

Constant Companions

 Ender enjoys being apart of Cora's nap time routine.  Book, song, pacifier, then a nice long break from sister.   The other morning I put the kids in her crib to go to the restroom.  As I walk back, I am met by Ender who proudly announces "I put Cora down for you" .  Of course I don't believe him, but its true, she was falling asleep when I rudely interrupted.  Ender didn't mind doing her nap routine all over again with out me in the room.  That day he held his head high and was adamant about making sure Cora was well taken care of by replenishing her snack dish and interpreting her grunts and hand motions for me.

 Ender's shadow coloring,

 Cora's shadow stocking her prey.  She got him.  Tore his book and pinched his arm. 

"Mama, is Cora going to die?"

"No, why would you ask that?"

"Because she is a baby"

"Well, we don't have to worry about her dying"

"Not yet anyway..." he says with a side glance to sister who blinks innocently back at  us.


Not to worry folks!  His inquiry is only out of concern for her.

Trader Joe Stickers

In third grade, a group of girls had a Lisa Frank sticker club.  Gag me with all the pink ponies!  However.... your membership included a shiny green emerald of the sorts, probably plastic.  I reassured myself that indeed I did love pink!  I loved it enough to get my hands on one of those green gems those girls promised.  I joined, got my prize and like most clubs in the third grade, it dissipated and rematerialized into a pogs club or something.... I can't remember.

Anyway...I took the kids to Trader Joes and the cashier lady thought the kids would want some stickers.  She gave a set to Ender and one to Cora, who decided that she wasn't the sticker type so I was much obliged by her sharing ways.  So off beat and interesting, I think I'll hoard them for a while until I write a friend and use them to seal their envelope.  I'm big into sealed envelopes. 

the jean jacket

 I didn't think Zander could get much happier.  I married him (ha!) I bore him two of the orneriest children, but it was another female dog (thats right I can be one of those too)  who sealed the deal and made his family complete.  A dog, specifically Gunther, truly the sweetest, tamest German Shephard you might come across.  Yes, he has destroyed my lavender, thyme, black button beauties, ender's flip flops, eaten his poop multiple times, nips at tiny bits of my skin (I think him and Cora are in cahoots), muddied my pretty dresses, steals Cora's pacifiers or receives them as gifts from her (again, in cahoots), chews on outdoor furniture, paints our white doors brown, attracts flies, phew, I can keep going, but I know Zander is reading this and is getting a little peeved.  But wait!  After all is said and done Gunther is healing.  He gets me out of my head, out of the world I live in where I have crowned myself queen of selfishness and predictability.  He is a constant companion to my days at home.  Such a loyal friend and he's just 4 months old. 

 Zander looks on with concern...........for the dog.

Communication at its best.  I think she wanted an orange.  If I guess wrong she slaps me in the face.  I have become pretty good as guessing/dodging the corporal correction.

**Uh, Um, Oh my.  I just realized I called Gunther a she. haha.  I was getting caught up in the moment of calling myself a female dog.  Gunther is quite the boy, I assure you.