Make new friends, but keep the old...

One is silver and the other's gold...

I'm so sorry if you now have that song stuck in your head! I think I learned it waaaaay back in first grade, but never in my life has it seemed to ring more true.

And there's nothing sweeter than being with dear friends and watching your kids eat cherries and smear the juice all over their faces.

Let's hope they always see each other as "old friends," too...

Lucy, in the middle, between sisters Avery (left) and Rayna (right) -- I'm pretty sure they don't remember life without each other.

Oh Hail!

We've had some frightful weather in Colorado this week. Every afternoon has brought thunderstorms and more: Friday was the only day without tornado warnings and sightings!

Thursday afternoon we watched the dark clouds move in. By 3pm we were turning lights inside the house. And by 4pm the hail began. It grew loud so fast that after throwing some pillows and sweatshirts down the basement stairs, I turned to see the kids crying, but I couldn't even hear them!

The backyard as it bounced off the deck and lawn:

The front yard and the river of flowing hail down the gutters of the street:
The trees suffered the most, as there were leaves down everywhere:

It shredded the covers we had on our deck chairs:
And our grill cover looked like it had bullet holes!:
But it taught Lucy the importance and comfort of being able to pray whenever she wants. She said, "It was really short, but I prayed that God would protect our house from the storm." And He did.

Apparently, my affections CAN be bought

Seems like life is bring lots of changes my way this year. One that I haven't been terribly fond of facing has been the idea of changing our insurance plan. I've now come to terms with the reality that as of July 1 we will be in the hands of an entirely new group of health care providers.

I kind of liked the ones we already had. *sniff sniff*

Ah, but who am I to complain? Thinking of so many around the world who don't have the easy access to doctors and hospitals, and many in our own country and neighborhoods who have lost jobs and therefore their coverage, I've come full circle to accept that any heath care is good right now!

So when we were invited to an open house at the brand new medical facility that we will soon call "our" doctor's office, I was on board.

Skeptical, but on board.

I think it was completely God's hand that we ran into our neighbor about 23 seconds after we walked in the door. She lives across the street and just happens to work for the health care company we are switching to. She mostly works with Medicare patients, but she was there for the grand opening and it was comforting to see her beaming smile.

We took the nickel tour, asked some questions, and even got to chat for a few minutes with the pediatrician our kids will most likely see. She was friendly, engaging, and she knew about Kawasaki's and immediately asked about Josiah's heart. She ensured us he would be able to continue seeing the same cardiologist, as they also network with Children's Hospital.

I liked her!

As we ended our tour, there were tons of free activities for the kids: they each got a balloon thingy made for them (I can't call them animals, really, as Lucy's was Sleeping Beauty and Joey got a fishing pole and fish), Lucy got sparkly cherries painted on her hand (they gave the kids their choices of fruits or veggies -- very health-conscious of them), and there were massive vats of plastic beads, pipe cleaners, glitter, paper, string, and googly eyes to make virtually any craft one could imagine.

We were facing closing time of the open house, but were nonetheless ushered toward the free food. We managed to happily scarf down huge fresh fruit and granola yogurt parfaits, but we took our croissant sandwiches to go.

On the way out, they asked if we wanted some free vegetables.

Um, yes, please!

One of the benefits of being the last out the door: a large reusable bag loaded with fresh green beans, fingerling potatoes, and a few radishes, all locally grown and straight from the Parker Farmer's Market.

So I walked out with a smile on my face, croissants for dinner, a load of fresh veggies for the rest of the week, and a renewed sense of confidence that even when change occurs against our will or desire, God still has us in the palm of His hand.

Matthew 6:26 "Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?"

There a First time for everything...and a Second...and a Third...

This past weekend, I mowed a lawn for the very first time in my life.

With my 25-pound son strapped to my back.

Yes, in 30-some years of living, I've never before been behind the bar of a lawn mower. As a kid, I was too young to use the riding mower on our five acres, even though I begged to try, and after we moved to a smaller yard as a teen, we sold the riding mower and hired someone to do it for us.

I've simply never had the chance. Sad story, huh?

So, on Sunday, not only did I get to mow a lawn, but I got to mow THREE lawns!

Let me tell ya, there's nothing quite like pushing a mower through a quarter acre of jungle weeds with a nearly-two-year-old strapped to ones own body to break a good sweat.

And it was fun! (Don't tell my husband I said that or he might hand over the reigns to our mower at home, too!)

Our church canceled our regular Sunday activities to go out and "be the church." We participated in a service project in a Denver neighborhood close to downtown. We partnered with another church through a local organization called Extreme Community Makeover. No, there was no Ty Pennington and no chanting crowd behind a bus, but there was a lot of fun and a lot of hard work to help a neighborhood with some much-needed upkeep and renovation.

John and Lucy and I worked with several other families on one particular neighborhood block doing yard work. Josiah was quite content to observe from the safety and comfort of the sling carrier. Across the street an entire house got painted (in about three hours!). And spread across several city blocks, about 60 adults and many kids from our church, plus about 200 from another, showed the love of God to these people by meeting some practical needs.

The kids had some fun, too. One gem of a resident cut up a watermelon for us and brought out a dozen hoola hoops for the kids to play with (on her newly cut lawn, ahem).

(Lucy is in the back wearing a bright green shirt.)

But the kids also pitched in by picking up trash, hauling away branches, painting and washing brushes, and keeping us laughing.

It was such a joy to work with these families from our church, and it was especially great to have both of our kids with us as we served. We value serving as a family, and are so excited to be part of a church community who does, too.

(The Newton Street crew)

Reflection

This week marks six months since Josiah spent some time in Children's Hospital, giving us all a good fright. In some ways it doesn't seem like it could have been that long ago, and in other ways I feel like it is so far behind us!

But six months is a long time when you are only 21 months old...

I spent some time earlier this week looking at our November photos at marveling at how far he has come since then. From those first few days when his mysterious fever had my instincts on edge, to my four nights by his side in the hospital, a long recovery at home, seeing him smile again, and finally reflecting on God's goodness through that painful time.

Not a single day goes by -- and I mean that in the most literal sense -- that I don't thank God for his little life, and for entrusting Joey to our care for as many days as He sees fit.

Perspective

Thursday night was really good for me. I'd had a difficult 24 hours emotionally, and I was looking forward to some time with the ladies in my church Bible study, but I was also dreading the how-are-you-doing's and are-you-okay's.

Let me back up for a minute.

On Wednesday afternoon we got the letter from Lucy's soon-to-be school informing us of her Kindergarten placement. I hadn't truly prepared myself for the idea that she might not get into the afternoon class, which was our first choice. I was hearing from so many people that we were a shoe-in, that surely we'd get her into the afternoon class because everyone else wanted mornings. And the fact that we were one of the first in line for registration back in January helped boost my confidence.

We waited three long months for this news. Three months of making plans, being hopeful and praying for the perfect placement.

She was placed in the morning class.

Suddenly I felt my plans and ideas for this whole next year come crashing down around me.

Sounds pretty dramatic, huh? That one little X on a line was to me a shattered dream.

One of the biggest reasons for preferring the afternoon class for Lucy was so that I could continue to take her to BSF with me next year. Her Wednesday mornings for the last three years have been a phenomenal experience for her, and I wanted that to continue for one more year before she would be in school all day until adulthood. The morning that we got the letter, she had said on our way home, "Mommy, it's going to be so much fun to have Joey come with us to BSF next year!" (The program starts for kids when they turn two years old.)

There were other benefits, too. Like being able to do other activities in the morning with both kids, having Lucy in school while Joey naps (which would give me a break, too), and just feeling like I was able to have her home with me for just one more year. (I believe I mentioned the dread of adulthood already.)

Well, needless to say, I was sad. Sad that she will have just two more days of BSF this year, then never be able to come with me again. Sad that she will miss out on the amazing Biblical instruction and learning next year that have impacted her so much already. Sad that our other fun plans for the mornings would no longer be possible. And sad that I only have a few more months until she starts school (which already seemed a hard hurdle!).

So I went to my Thursday night gathering and started crying pretty much as soon as I walked in the door.

But as the night progressed, I became aware through conversations and prayer requests that there is really so much to be thankful for that it outweighs the sadness. And in my heightened emotional state, this recognition made me cry even more, of course.

Why am I thankful? Some states have all-day Kindergarten, and I need to be thankful that Lucy will only be gone for three hours a day this next year. And just the fact that we live in a nation where our children are educated in a healthy environment -- or at all! Some people are dealing with the death of a child, and wow, am I grateful to have a nearly-five-year-old who is beautiful, happy, healthy, and alive, and heading to school!

Serious perspective. It really put my so-called drama in its place.

I understand that I'm allowed to be sad for the changes in my plans (even as I type this, Proverbs 16:9 comes to mind -- "In his heart a man plans his course, but the Lord determines his steps"). But there is really so much more that I need to be thanking God for.

Thanks, friends, for your listening ears, your sympathetic hearts, and the perspective you bring into my life. I am beginning to wrap my mind around this new thing and am having more peace as each hour goes by...

And thank You, Lord, that you've given me these five years to care for and teach and nurture my beautiful baby girl. Thank You for the three wonderful years that Lucy has had the privilege to come to BSF with me, and the loving teachers who have taught her so much more than even I thought she was capable of learning at her tender age. Thank You that You know better than I do what is best for us, and help me to rest in Your will and Your plan for this next year and beyond.

I'm sensing a trend here

Thursday, 12:00pm:

Friday, 12:00pm:Early to bed and early to rise makes a boy... tired, apparently.

By lunchtime.

Two days in a row, now, he has fallen asleep in his highchair with untouched food in front of him.

This is not a good pattern. (But it is pretty cute!)

A new form of torture called 'Easter photos'

The kids were dressed in their Easter finest, and of course we wanted to take some precious photos to remember how sweet (Lucy) and dapper (Josiah) they looked on this day.

What possessed us to believe they would cooperate is beyond me.

But looking at these now brings back the memory of a room full of family and friends laughing til our tummies were sore, and that alone brings me more joy that a perfect photo.

Sitting in the rocker was apparently not an option...

...though Mommy, Lucy, and the Easter lamb all tried...

...and Daddy's foot didn't do the trick to keep him put, either...

Okay, so one sitting and one standing isn't so bad, if only they would both smile. Let's try having them both sit...

Yeah, that didn't work either...

Ahhh, there are those sweet smiles! Close enough. :)

We may not have a photo we can frame on our wall, but what's more important is feeling the joy and love in our home...

My favorite time of day

I am soooooo happy that both my kids are good snugglers! I don't know what I'd do if they weren't. But as they get older, those times of snuggling become less frequent, more brief.

I'm starting to see this with Josiah. My baby is becoming a little boy. That's why bedtime has become my favorite time of the day.

At 20 months, he is a very active boy, but he still has his moments when he wants to snuggle. It usually starts with his thumb in his mouth and his spare arm raised for me to pick him up.

And then he puts his head on my shoulder.

When he's hurt, he points to the rocking chair, which apparently is the healer of all wounds, bumps, and bruises. When he's tired, he points to the hallway where he knows the stairs are, so I will take him up to bed.

And when I'm lucky, he points to the big blue chair in his bedroom. That used to be his request to nurse, but recently it has come to mean, "Mommy, I'm not ready to be done snuggling yet. That looks like the perfect spot for us to sit together for just a few more minutes..."

*sigh*

It's usually over all too soon (for me), when he picks his head up and points to his crib to be laid down. But those few moments of peace, quiet, and snuggling are the best. That's why it's my favorite time of day.

Branching out

I love to bake, and I love to eat, but as for the food preparation in my own kitchen, I'm not typically very adventurous. I can follow a recipe, and the kind with just six ingredients or less are just my speed.

I also have two relatively choosy eaters under my daily care, which often makes me steer clear of anything but the norm. My kids both eat a pretty good variety for their ages, but they are kids, and they generally like to stick to what they know.

If it ain't broke, don't fix it, right?

Needless to say, when it comes to lunch, I don't like to be a short-order cook, so we generally all eat the same things each week: shells and cheese, quesadillas, PB&J, grilled cheese, and deli sandwiches (turkey and cheese with mustard and sometimes cucumbers).

But this weekend I felt somewhat inspired when I dragged out the sandwich fixings, and I reached for a few extras. Here was the result:


I started with honey wheat berry bread and spread it with ranch dressing, then sprinkled crumbled bacon before adding shaved turkey. Then I covered it with colby jack cheese and toasted the whole thing. Topped with thinly sliced cucumbers, it was warm, crisp, and a welcome change to my mundane lunch routine.

I can't say I've ever taken a photo of a sandwich I've made before, but I felt this very small victory in my personal life and wanted to document it.

I know. You don't have to tell me. I need to get out more often...