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Karis never stops talking. Her lips simply don't stay closed long enough for her to take a break. She came out of the womb like that, her sobs deep and powerful. Her bedtime prayers are giant run-on sentences that start off reasonably with prayers for family members, then drift into prayers for random inanimate objects she can see in the room around her, digressing into a made up language with words like "tetch" and "ratcha", and then finally morph into questions such as, "Mom, do you remember the pink elephants we saw at Disney?" (Yes. And we're praying, remember?) Her friend's house was termed "adorable" yesterday, and when engaged in a discussion about God, she informed me, "We like sin." (Official family policy: We don't like sin.)

I never imagined I would be answering so many questions a few months shy of her 3-year-old-birthday. Most questions revolve around the names of people we come into contact with. What's the mom's name again? What's the babies name again? She rehearses the names over and over again, for days on end, until she remembers them. She just wants to know.

I'd be lying if I didn't admit I'm often exhausted by her constant interjections and nonstop babble from the moment her eyes open until...well, she even talks in her sleep. Truth is, I think she believes she's an adult like everyone else around her. She acts a little surprised when she looks in the mirror and sees a little kid standing in front of her. She'll even gasp a little bit and then say, "Cute!" (Confident.)

As we took our family walk last night, I watched her saunter down the street, too-long hair swaying from side to side, jean skirt bobbing playfully up and down with each step, and I was reminded of the awesomeness of parenting. Which awesome? Both, really. This is good and heavy stuff, parenting a little person with a big personality and zealous thirst for life.

But don't be fooled by her colorful vocabulary. No sooner will she use a big, made-up word like "unconstanable" to describe her nap than she'll turn to you tearfully and say, "Hold me." And I do.

Housekeeping

Just wanted to drop in and let you all know you can view the article I wrote for EU Jacksonville here. Scroll down to page 18 to view my article. For you locals, here is a list of Jacksonville establishments that carry EU monthly. I had so much fun writing this article, and I just finished writing my second!

As for that wedding, it was a great experience! It had its ups and downs, lessons learned, and knowledge gained. In a sentence: wedding photography is a tough gig! But the night was beautiful! It was a small wedding taking place in an old, southern plantation-style home. The ceremony was on the lawn under the oak trees, and after the sun went down, the reception took place in the quaint, candlelit dining room. So laid back and beautiful. Here are a few of my favorites from the night. Enjoy!

Aunt, ants, and anteaters

Aunt:
My bright-eyed, color-purple-loving niece turned 3 last week, and I took a little trip to fulfill my aunt-y duties. And when I say "duties", I am talking about a fun trip to sunny Ft. Lauderdale to eat, laugh, swim, and shop with my nieces, brothers, sister-in-law, and parents. It's a job I'll gladly fill anytime it's asked of me.

Ants:
Late spring has brought with it more than the typical humidity and sunnier evenings. Our home has become a haven to countless ants. Apparently, the initial scouters came to inspect and sent the word back to the whole crew beyond that our home was hospitable to their kind. So we've called in the cavalry to reinforce our shameless animal cruelty. My father-in-law kindly came to spray up and down, inside and out of our home today. It turns out that Karis and Me-Ma's intermittent sprinkling of ant killer on the many ant piles in our yard just wasn't cutting it. Though it did make for a sweet picture.


Anteaters:
Living a mere 5 minutes from the Jacksonville Zoo has it's definite perks. Just the other day I woke up and thought, "We should go to the zoo this morning just to feed the giraffes." Thanks to our annual pass, it would have been a great idea, and, in my ever-so-humble mind, I thought it might just make me the coolest, most spontaneous mom ever. Well, title not fulfilled that day. But we did go for a visit a few days later with our friends. We hit the highlights: the giraffes, monkeys, penguins (pictured here), and anteaters.

Regarding that last animal, my friend and I heartily agreed it might possibly be the craziest-looking creature on the planet. It's huge, awkward, and feeds mostly on ants. Weird, right? And yet I could totally have benefited from one roaming around my house over the last few weeks.

Free time, then and now

I walked past Karis' room yesterday and found her feverishly "washing" something in her play kitchen sink. I did a double take as I walked past, putting on the breaks to get another peek at the item. It looked too paper-ish and important to be in her hands. Sure enough, she had swiped my college journal from the bookshelf in the office and was playing with a piece of paper I stuck in there nearly 11 years ago.

It was a list describing the 10 weeks I spent studying abroad in Eastern Europe, each week containing a few notes on the highlights of that week. I stood there and reminisced over the details. Italy in week 2. The gorgeous countryside of Salzburg in week four. The festive, gypsy concert and awkward bathhouse experience of week six's Hungary trip. And how could I forget Vienna and all of it's gorgeous Christmas decorations in week 10? It was there that I tasted the most mouthwatering bratwurst sandwich at a Christmas festival in the park.

My daydreaming continued as I thought for a few moments about my 3 roommates. I won't soon forget our dancing parties in that old, communist-style, Slovakian dorm room, washing our travel-weary clothes by hand in a stand-up shower, or keeping the entire Slovak bird population fed when we left our perishable food out on the balcony one freezing cold night. I couldn't help but consider how we'd all changed since those days. Dianna is now mother to 7 children. Brooke traded in her dancing shoes to become an adopted mom to a beautiful, teenage girl. And Jessica went on to get her master's degree in nursing, marry the man of her dreams, and pass away after a long battle with cancer.

Along with the list of countries, I had also jotted down a few observations and lessons learned while traveling. The following are my favorites:

It is funny how a weary traveler will territorialize a space no matter how small and dingy it may be. It becomes home. No one can touch that 3 feet you have sealed off as privately your own.

You know it's time to go home when you rate a nice warm bed and a hot shower right up there with seeing a famous, beautiful, historical landmark.

Now please understand that I wouldn't trade my current stage in life for anything in the world, but I did enjoy standing there daydreaming about all of that single, college girl independence. How could I forget the incredible feeling of hopping on a train whenever the travel mood struck or climbing up an old, winding staircase to get to the top of an ancient stone castle? Those experiences leave a lasting impression.

But I found it funny that, according to the notes above, the footloose and fancy free, 20-year-old me would have traded a trip to a historic, European castle for a nice, warm bed. At that time, I envied something that the current me has plenty of: a home, plenty of personal space, a warm bed, and a hot shower. Granted, that personal space is littered with books, dolls, and miniature versions of Mickey Mouse. And certainly that hot shower only comes late into the night after everyone else in the home has nodded off. And a warm bed? I've got that too, so long as I've remembered to wash, dry, and put the sheets back on the bed in a timely fashion.

As I stuffed the note unceremoniously back into the journal and slid it back into it's spot on the bookshelf, I couldn't help but smile at the irony of the situation. Even if I tried, I couldn't have thought of a more fitting place to rediscover this piece of paper, a relic of my former youthful and independent days, than between the grubby hands of my 2-year-old daughter as she washed them down the drain. That might just be my favorite definition of irony ever.

Here I am at one of the many castles I toured, an experience that apparently I would have traded for a few domestic comforts. I think the look on my face says otherwise.

[Top photo] Taken atop the Untersberg Mountain in Salzburg, Austria following a hearty yodelling session with Jessica.