to barclay on your 8th birthday

My first born baby,

Today you are 8.  This year has been one of the most stretching years of our lives and I have seen you rise to the occasion and grow so courageously.  

This is the year I finally broke down and let you cut your beautiful long hair, after years of you asking.  I was so sure my baby would go away with the locks.  As the locks fell to the floor your beautiful, handsome brilliant face shone through, and you were still there.  

This year you became the neatest person in the house.  Your room is always immaculate and you love being up there in your space.

You've played several sports this year and you are focused and intense as you play.  For such a goofball most of the time, sports are not the time you act out.

Daddy and Emi and I took you as a surprise to New York City this summer.  It was your dream.  Being with you those few days and seeing all the wonders of the city in your eyes was such a gift.  You would walk miles and miles with no complaining and once we were up till almost midnight.  It was FUN.  You weren't in our way or burdensome, you were FUN!  It gave me a glimpse of a lifetime of the fun we will have with you.  

This summer we also took you to have your brain scanned at the Amen Clinics.  Ever since you've been here in this world I've sensed struggles you have and it was wonderful to get clarity on how to come along side you and help you thrive.  You have severe ADHD and ODD.  We are learning all we can and finding all sorts of ways to make life easier for you.  There are also signs that I have passed on my disorder onto you.  I promise you, I will work all my life and keep fighting so that you can have your best shot.  Through it all, you have been so gentle and precious.  I'm so glad I got a peek deep inside into the inner workings.  

You love writing.  I find handwritten letters to dozens of friends and family members all over our house.  It's really hard for you to keep friends, because you're so intense, but your ability to love is just captivating.  Anyone is lucky to be your friend, in my eyes.

I love your freckles, I love your sparkly eyes.  I love your smirk.  I love the way you bend down and gently wrap your arms around your sister. I love the way you belly laugh.  I love when your small arms wrap around my neck when I bend down to give you a kiss at bedtime.  

Despite our magnetic pull and push, I know you love me and I sure hope you know I love you.  

I ache for you to know my love.  How could you ,though, when I can't even put it into words?  I love you so deep and so pure that I'm positive it would blind you if you could see it.  

Being your mama is my greatest honor.  Thank you for being patient with me as I stumble and fall.

I am so proud of you.  So very, very proud of you.

Happy birthday my love.

Mama

to lucy miller on her 3rd birthday. . .

My Darling,

The snow is heavy outside as I write this, just like the day I went into labor with you-the coldest day in decades.  It was so cold but you brought and continue to bring the greatest warmth to anyone who knows you.

I can't believe it has only been 3 years with you, I feel like you've been with me almost my whole life.  This year brought all kinds of beautiful growth for you.  You now have very strong opinions about what you wear.  You will only wear et-it-go dwessess (let it go dresses)...this means they must have a spin factor for you to even consider them.  You are known for your squeaky shoes and we all know when you are near.  This summer Sullivan started school and it's been just us girls till school lets out.  You go to preschool 5 mornings a week.  I thought it would be sad to see you go every morning but when you excitedly run (squeak squeak squeak) with your little backpack in to play with your fwends, I just can't stop smiling.

One of my favorite things you say is " I'm not yedy" (I'm not ready).  

You love your babies and are a devoted little mama.  You've always got a babe on the breast. Speaking of, we nearly made it to 3 with our sweet nursing relationship.  You still ask to nurse every day but when I say my muyk muyks are broken you happily go on your way.

You potty trained for a brief summer and then on our road trip out west we got lazy...so you're still in diapers.  You recently left your crib for a big girl bed and you are so so proud.

Your smile.  Lucy Miller, your smile is pure magic.  It's not even just your smile but the smile in your sparkly squinted eyes that fills my heart right up like a cup that overflows.  Anyone who knew me in high school/college can tell you how strong my desire to have an asian baby was. You are pretty darn close:-)  In fact, when we were in Banff, Canada, you were constantly swarmed with asian tourist who wanted a picture of you and a picture with you!  It was the funniest thing!  

You are kind and sweet and at the appropriate times you are a force.  I will in one 5 minute period see you twirling sweetly and then suddenly you're playing war with your brothers.  Speaking of, you love them and talk about them constantly.    

You delight me.  You delight me.  You delight me.  I can't say this enough.  Every part of you just delights my soul.  Your life is a gift that gives and gives and gives.  I can't wait to grow old watching you blossom into the beautiful force you are.  

Happy 3rd Birthday my girl.  I can't believe I get to be your Mama.

Our trip to the Pacific Northwest

It's been nearly a month since we have arrived home from our 2 week adventure to the Pacific Northwest and Banff, Canada with our three children (7,5,2).  I had originally planned to furiously edit these photos and write all about it immediately but it was too sacred.  I truly have needed to just sit and processes before having the words.  

I keep comparing this trip to labor and childbirth.  It is powerful and wonderful and sacred and yet it is something you do NOT want to do again or think about doing again immediately following.   Give yourself a few weeks and suddenly you'll remember so fondly something that was so hard and painful. 

I know you saw the pictures on Instagram.  The beautiful mountains and the rocky coasts, my children dressed in adorable mismatched clothes and boots.  I know it looked picturesque and maybe even sent a pang of jealousy into the pit of your stomach.  Even though I tried to keep it real with several posts of crying car rides, that did not even scratch the surface of how hard this trip was.  

As hard and painful as this trip was, it was equally needed and healing.  

Our children are very similar to feral animals.  They run and play in the open air and the second you put them inside they go crazy.  So more than 3,000 miles traveled via car was hard for everyone.   Having just received a concrete diagnosis for our oldest of Severe ADHD/ODD a few weeks before the trip, and trying out some medications and new dietary restrictions for him, it just really added to the painfulness of it all.  

For every moment of pain there was a tiny glance or hand hold or a pause and a drawing in.  

You see, ever since our precious first born was born and something was "off" with him, I feel like I've started separating from Noah.  Because when it gets hard...or stays hard all the time, it's just so much easier to go off on your own, lick your wounds and return to try again.  

The hard part, the hardest part is drawing in.  It's not pretty.  It's not idilic picnics on the beach and romantic gestures, it's standing firm, it's lifting one another when they are too weary to go on.  There was a lot of awkward and painful moments on this beauty filled trip.  Too many times to count I was just paralyzed with fear of how to move on, how to address one more hungry child who was tired, how to calm Barclay down after another fit, how to dig deep down and give grace to my husband.  We were stuck together for two weeks and we did it.  We grew and we healed a bit.  

I feel so unworthy to be the mama of this tribe.  I feel so ill equipped, so lacking in patience, so childlike myself.  But grace is daily extended to me and it is restoring me.  

I can see the beauty here, in this family of mine.  This gift of people that are my people.  Every one precious and unique and wonderfully made for a purpose.