Eliana Sleeping

A blanket soft and pink
But cheeks pinker and softer still
Wisps of hair smell sweet around your forehead
You know I'm here somehow
And sigh a sigh-sigh-sigh that whispers peace
My baby girl
So little and so big  

A Different Kind of Thursday

I have officially started math with Eliana and she has been enjoying it! Kindergarten math is fun, you know.

Today she was sorting pattern blocks by color. She knows how to sort already, but I'm following the book, loosely. We are doing the calendar work and I'm combining lessons as I go since she has been exposed to a lot of what is in the beginning, especially. It was fun to watch her, and she totally understood that the hexagons are made up of two trapezoids, three rhombuses, and six triangles. You know, I'm not even entirely sure that those are the right designations off the top of my head, but it's late and I need to clean up the hallway before I go to bed. That is a whole separate blog post, the hallway is. 

After sorting, she picked two colors to make a design with. She made several designs instead of one. She's a rebel. 

Christian stayed home today, for a couple of reasons, and so he was along for the ride. He had a scenario going, and I never was quite sure what was going on. The bears were either hiding or buried. I couldn't get a straight answer. (I'm pretty sure I've written a very similar paragraph in another post before.)

She designed. 

And designed. 

I like watching her toes. They are very wiggly. 

She liked having Christian around (mostly). 

And she wanted her picture with her design, of course. 

What was fun is that Christian looked at what she made and exclaimed,"It's a person!" Which it was. 

I can't say I got much schoolwork done with them today beyond that. Christian was home and it changed the dynamic. And while there were a couple of times that I had to send them to their rooms just to settle down and let me have some quiet for ten minutes, there were also peaceful moments. 

I'd say at least two! 

So while I abandoned the idea of getting schoolwork done, I tackled Mission: Impossible the project of cleaning Michaela's room. I dragged (drug?) everything out of there, except for large furniture. Then I only put back in what belongs in there, and only in its proper place. Her desk is still a disaster, but everything else looks quite good, and she gave me helpful input regarding what could get tossed and what she wanted to keep. We came up with reasonable and logical storage places. Score! 

And now to attend to the hallway. It's still reeling from the indignity of being turned into a closet. Or worse, a dumpster. 

The Bottom Holds

From darkness into light,
Slipping, gasping, flailing, 
A breath, and here we are
In someone's arms-
Fresh and wrinkly.
Minutes pass, days and weeks go by;
Years fill up the spaces in our
Minds and hearts.  
Love and tears and laughter
Have a name-Life.
The world is a place we like:
Oh, joy! Life is a happy thing.
When we are young,
The years keep on, keen on growing
Us up, and we do grow up.
Love and tears and laughter
All the same, but oh so different.

My grown-up eyes are not
Just like my younger eyes,
Which took in the world hungrily.
Now they are wary.
But still,
Maybe there is hope for those eyes,
And mind and heart too.
The world is not always a place I like,
But the miracle is I am not alone.
The ring attests to that:
There were vows, a covenant.
I stepped up, stepped in,
And then we were hand in hand,
And in His hands,
Our solid ground and firm foundation
We didn't even really know we'd need.
And so those grown-up years are good.
And hard!
Sometimes slipping, gasping, flailing years,
But we breathe and maybe quake or
Get really still sometimes.
For we can be uncertain;
The testing comes and shakes it all around,
Or tears it all away.
We are robbed! The losses knock us down.
Where are our feet? 
It seems a shifting of what is beneath us.
Is it just sand?
The answer rings out loud and clear.
The earth may tremble but
Those hands are strong.
We find the bottom holds. 

-Inspired by words spoken by our pastor's wife at the first of a series of gatherings to discuss Tim and Kathy Keller's The Meaning of Marriage. She said,"The bottom holds." As I've said before, she and her husband would know. I'm grateful for the opportunity to learn with them, and to do it with Mike, together. 

Dear Dan Stevens, (DOWNTON ABBEY SPOILER *SPOILER *SPOILER ALERT)

Well. What can be said that hasn't already been said? You have been throroughly boxed on the ears, haven't you? Apparently, hell hath no fury like Downton viewers who lose beloved characters. 

I want to add something a little different though. 

First I will say that I watched Season Three's finale literally sitting on the edge of my seat. I had been avoiding the Internet for two days because I had not yet seen the last two shows, but finally my husband and I were able to sit down and see the final two hours. In spite of my highly choreographed avoidance dance with Facebook and the blogs I read, I knew something sad was going to happen. Throughout the entire episode, I played out at least 57 scenarios: Who would it be?! What would happen?! 

Bates and Anna?

Thomas in the fight?

O'Brien gets poisoned?

Mary loses the baby?

Ms. Patmore and Creepy Grocery Guy?

Little Sybil drowns?

Matthew gets shot while hunting? (But certainly not, because KILLING OFF TWO MAIN CHARACTERS IN ONE SEASON? NO WAY!)

Nanny...where is she anyway?

And so my mind raced, and my heart pounded, and I shook from the inside out as I watched anxiously, anticipating the awful scene...but not knowing what on earth it could possibly be. 

When Matthew is driving down the road, after his blissful encounter with Mary and his beautiful baby boy, smiling and radiating joy, and the scene changes to the oncoming vehicle, yes, at that point it was clear what would happen. It was, indeed, like watching the proverbial train wreck...except with old-timey cars. No seat belts, no air bags, no sides to the vehicle even! Nothing to stop what was now inevitable.

And what was inevitable was not just the death of a beloved character, but also the heartbreak of a million and more fans. But here is where I will veer from the path of the enraged and disenfranchised Matthew-lovers. 

I want to say thank you. Thank you for bringing the character of Matthew Crawley to life in such a way that I, along with many, many others, fell in love with him. He was charming. He was handsome. He was kind. He was not snobby, and yet he came to understand and, dare I say, love all that he found undesirable when he was first introduced to Downton Abbey. I will never forget the scene when Matthew asks Molesley to help him dress. It brought tears to my eyes; Matthew's sensitivity was giving Molesley purpose in that very moment. Matthew at war (well, the whole war part) broke my heart. Matthew making mistakes made me sad, but it was good because we all know that no one is perfect, not even the noblest of English gentlemen. He was on everyone's side, but it didn't seem to me that he had a wishy-washy, never-take-a-stand kind of stance. He was willing to give the benefit of the doubt. 

Empathy. Compassion. Great love for Mary.

It says a lot for your ability to give us a character that we can't help but like, who is so endearing without being a weenie (in many ways, Matthew was just beginning to find a strong footing in regards to Downton's future and having a firm say in the matters at hand...I'm sorry that he will not get to see the fruit of his labor) (although I am so very glad that he was able to see the fruit of Mary's labor...that was beautiful beyond words). So thank you for Matthew, and for what he was for Downton. He will be sorely missed. 

I hope your career is fulfilling and that you get to spend time with your real-life family. You were an important part of a wonderful story, a story that dealt with issues that are most certainly not a thing of the past: familial relationships, brokenness, joy and sorrow, redemption. And for that, I am very glad. I've always loved a good story. 

Christina

A Good Ending

Sometimes, for the sake of happiness, I want a different ending to the story. This is no small thing; it's what we each want.

We want the happily-ever-after.