Morning dance

As the sun rose this morning, I walked by Karis room and spied her dancing with all her favorite stuffed animals, each in turn. I ran and got my camera to capture the moment. (I think everyone could see that coming.) I've been in a bit of a creative slump lately, and I'm ever so grateful for these beautiful, candid moments in my day.

I miss narrative writing, but I have been so busy with life lately that I often don't have the energy left by nap time or bedtime to sit down and be disciplined enough to write. No, those quiet moments are reserved for pre-recorded episodes of Anthony Bourdain: No Reservations, a few good books, and a dwindling bag of Ghiardelli 60% cacao chocolate chips, stashed high in my cupboard to avoid easy reach. I easily reach.

I recently heard somewhere, someplace, by someone with good thoughts (busyness induced memory loss?) that the job of a writer is to create art out of almost any subject. In other words, I can and should strive write (and photograph) creatively and artistically, no matter what the subject. I take comfort in this whenever I fear I might be becoming a one-note song, only blogging about my child or parenting.

I love the relationship between photography and writing in my life. When I write, I'm inspired to photograph, and, similarly, when I take a pleasing picture, I'm often spurred on to write. So, when I'm too tired and undisciplined to sit down and create written stories, I turn to picture stories, hoping for some inspiration.

The most readily available subject these days is, of course, my child. Children are wonderfully unselfconscious and uninhibited in their actions. Karis is no different. She is a walking and breathing story, acting out what's going on in her little mind, not caring who is watching nor posing for the camera. I find it refreshing to photograph her, so I often point my camera in her direction. And usually, just like this morning, it provides just the right creative nudge needed to get me writing again.

Around the table

Chicken fricasse: 3 stars

Dinner conversation: 4 stars

Smile on Karis' face (as her crazy mother walks away from the table to take a photo to savor what "normal" looks like at this moment in our lives): 5 stars

She said

:: Daddy, Tie me up!
It may sound like a strange thing for a little girl to request of her Dad, but he's been learning how to tie knots lately, and together they have come up with a practical use for some of those knots. It makes me cringe a little bit to watch her body go flying between the kitchen cabinets and stove, but she giggles the whole time and yells "Woo hoo!"

:: Mom, I want some ketchup.
We went to the allergy specialist today, and we got some great news. She is NOT allergic to tomatoes as I was previously told by her doctor. Her skin is sensitive to certain foods, a condition called perioral food reaction, and hopefully, within a few years, she will outgrow this.

Before her nap this afternoon she told me she was hungry and followed it up with, "I want some ketchup." I protested, for obvious reasons. She replied with, "But the doctor said I could."

I'm thinking maybe we should have a tomato extravaganza for dinner tonight.

Pumpkin patch-y

Florida children are raised on the notion that a pumpkin patch consists of pumpkins lined up on wooden pallets and stacked on long church tables under a tent, on the lawn of a Methodist church beside a very busy highway, and, most likely, on a sweltering hot day. It's not exactly my romantic vision of driving to a farm and picking out a pumpkin from a literal pumpkin patch on a brisk fall day. But it's a tradition, nonetheless, and it's fun. So we'll take it.

This weekend I learned...

Weekend trips to visit family, though short in length, are very sweet.

Grandpa makes an excellent playmate.

Aunt Jenny teaches fun games like cart wheels and ring-around-the-rosy.

My brother and sister-in-law (not pictured here) make beautiful children.

Roses and Poses

It's been one of those weeks where the days slip by, full and and varied. The good moments, as well as the bad (and everything in between), all jumbled together.

There was the circus on Sunday, a wonderful treat for Karis and her grandmothers, complete with salty popcorn, sticky cotton candy fingers, and pricey pony rides. Karis responded EXACTLY how we thought she would during the performances, getting up out of her seat to dance and pose for the audience the whole time. Lasting memories.

A trip to Bob's house yielded good conversation, two sugar cookies, and a couple of roses snipped from his front bushes. He loves his roses, calling them by their varietal names "Hello Dolly" and "Chrysler Imperial". I like how he pronounces the latter one, slowly and deliberately.

I wrestled throughout the week with what it means to follow and be loved by Jesus--my judgments, anxieties, imperfections and all. Still wrestling.

Dinner at the Landing proved to be the perfect spot to unwind. A walk along the river, a tasty meal, a slice of peanut butter pie, and a few ballerina "poses" in front of the main street bridge--essentials for a good family night, really.

Fall favorites

:: Iced pumpkin cookies
The first batch of the season. These cookies make the short list of things my family invariable consumes way too much of once autumn rolls around.

:: Giggling children
A harvest party in our neighborhood brings out races of the three-legged and sack variety. Fun, fun.

:: Glass bottles
An October birthday for Grandma calls for a present in the form of her all-time favorite beverage, "Coca Noah" (as Karis calls them).

Greener grass

Seeing the back of my daughter's head and the heads of her friends as they bounded through the green grass of Memorial Park yesterday caused me to turn to my friend Nikki and utter words not often heard escaping my discontented lips: "It really is a privilege to be a stay-at-home mom." Of course Nikki knows me better than to trust my sudden burst of optimism and questioned if I weren't perhaps experiencing a sugar rush from the pumpkin spice lattes we were downing at a good rate.

I often struggle with my current job of stay-at-home mom (SAHM). I happen to know a lot of SAHM's who love it, even relish it, and wouldn't have it any other way. While I love my child and the comforts of home, I also desire to have a foot in the working world and the rhythm, structure, and adult conversations that come with having a job. But this stage in my family's life requires that I put those desires away on a shelf, to be taken down at a later time when my family doesn't need me as acutely as they do now. And I'm at peace with that, most of the time.

But yesterday I was more than at peace with it. Throughout the day I caught glimpses of the privileges that come with being a full-time mom, wife, and house manager. I was aware of the time, space, and freedom Karis and I both have as a result of me not working right now, and I felt grateful.

:: Doing laundry on my bed as Karis woke up from her nap in her usual groggy, cranky state.

:: Playing a quiet game in the clothes hamper.

::Visiting MeMa next door (a.k.a. Great Grandma).

:: Boiling chickpeas to make homemade hummus, a time-consuming process.

:: Reading Karis a bedtime story (my hat goes off to mom's working the night shift!).

This week in review

It rained alot.

I made corrections to my recipe for the perfect "gray sky" beverage, vanilla chai latte.

Karis used the term "otherwise" somewhat appropriately in a sentence.

The car wouldn't start. It was fixed, and then, within an hour, the dryer broke.

It rained some more.

Matt fixed the dryer with his own two hands and a ton of ingenuity. What a man.

I learned that Gerbera daisies prefer cool, rainy weather (take note, Seattle gardeners).

The skies cleared, the laundry dried, and I drank a pumpkin spice latte. Vanilla chai latte who?