Four

This is how I want to remember these early days of her fourth year of life: napping in her super-girl costume, old enough to put up a good fight for every nap, yet still young enough to fall asleep cuddling "Dolly" and "Baby Keller", staple companions of her sleepy-time routine pretty much since birth.

I'm not sure just how often Matt and I look at each other these days and sigh in either frustration and/or amusement, saying "She's so four". Her eagerness to learn is mighty, asking followup questions about everything she hears and sees (scaaaary!). She's eager to produce, content to sit at the dining room table and "art" for a while. The dress up bag is dragged out daily, yet mostly just the ballerina outfits are donned in regular rotation based upon which one Mom has not snuck away for a much needed cleaning.

Tantrums are frequent, although I've found that in quiet, gentle moments they can be soothed with patient reasoning. She wants to comply and often distances herself from what she calls "fussy Karis", mimicking what her voice sounds like when the tired alter ego appears.

Questions about deeper things in life seem to come up once she's gloriously tucked in bed, the lights are turned off, and I'm headed straight for relaxation-ville. "Mom, do some people not have food to eat?" I heard her belt out in dark silence from her bed the other night. I sensed a tone of genuine contemplation that told me this was important. I went into her room, and she followed up with, "So when are we going to take them food?" Good, good question, dear. She proceeded to look around the room naming all the things we could give to people who are in need, stopping only at her cd player to deem it off limits because, as she said, "I like music." And that she does.

She's eager to make a new companion at the playground. Her habit of calling new playmates "friend" despite their repeated telling her their name is something we're working on (but secretly love and makes us giggle when we hear it). We're prepping her for school which starts in a few weeks: practicing raising our hands, listening to others, starting conversations with new people, respecting authority, asking for help, etc. She's the kind of kid that thrives on organized activity, so I know she's just going to love it.

Truth be told, she's just so four, and we couldn't be more in love. Happy fourth, little one.

Farmers market

 

 

Thankful Friday

The little bits of sun peeking through the dense smoke clouds have been a welcome change today compared to the last few days. It's felt a little bit like the end of the world around here lately because of the nearby wildfires burning hard and fast. Still I remind myself being home-bound because of smoke certainly pales in comparison to being homeless due to a fire.

My pepper plants are cranking out jalapenos and datils every few days. I'm loving growing these hardy plants as they boost my confidence in growing food, something I've had little luck with in the past. My own tolerance for heat in food is growing respectively as well. A whole, fresh-sliced jalapeno thrown on a fajita, seeds not removed? Yes, please.

I'm thankful for the wishful eyes with which my daughter pleaded with me yesterday after her bath to pretend she was a "wedding bride" and to throw pretend flowers on her as she walked through her bedroom doorway, wrapped in a towel and hair still dripping. I have not encouraged this sort of girl-y dreaming and wistful fantasizing about getting married. Somehow it's just in her DNA, and I love that about her.

Summer snapshots

I unloaded my camera today, and I noticed things are looking quite summery around here. What do you think?

 

The cold, sweet leftovers from making homemade coffee ice cream. Her favorite part of this process is most definitely the clean up.

A table full of stickers, crayons, colored pencils, and art projects. Karis says she is "art-ing". I think it's a useful verb.

 Bug-bitten legs in plaid shorts. Summer essentials for any almost four-year-old.

Hatching butterflies and curious onlookers. The painted ladies weren't as fun to watch transform as last year's black swallowtail butterflies, but it was fun nonetheless.

What's not to love

A husband who gives up 30 minutes of his Sunday afternoon to fulfill a promised guitar lesson to a neighbor.

A young neighbor who remembers the promised guitar lesson and shows up with guitar in hand, eager to learn (and quite quick at learning, I might add).

A 3-year-old girl who watches and listens quietly with her guitar in hand only to insist upon having her own private lesson once the neighbor leaves, complete with music worksheets she can't read.

A husband who, persuaded by tearful pleading, gives up 30 minutes for another guitar lesson.

A dog who insists on sitting in the middle of a mess of chair legs, dangling feet, and music stands, just to be where the action is.

Body slams, rhythm, and parenting

Matt has an wonderful ability to parent out of who he is and his interests. I took note of this yesterday as he and Karis moved from one activity to the next. First they "wrestled" for a good 30 minutes, while he showed her wrestling moves to defend herself. Side note: He loves to watch UFC wrestling on tv, and the first few times he watched it around her I was nervous that it was too violent or inappropriate for her. I walked by a little later to find her snuggled up to him as he explained the ins and outs of professional fighting. She was very intrigued by the sport.

Later last night I walked in the office to find her sitting in his lap as he pounded on the djembe (African drum). She shares his love for music and drumming, and together they were drumming along to Cee Lo Green. Then, without skipping a beat, they stood up and finished with a spirited dance party. Hands in the air, feet moving to the beat, they danced around in circles in a small corner of our cluttered office. I can take a few cues from this guy's parenting style.

In the last 5 weeks...

 

I turned 32. Matt arranged weekend babysitting, and we took a day trip to Savannah. It was fun roaming the old streets, popping in and out of adorable home design shops, and stuffing our faces at the mouth-watering Zunzi's. We'd like to go again soon and stay longer.

Karis and E experienced their first sleepover. E stayed the night with us, and everything went so smoothly. Her father and I both had visions of late night phone calls over a homesick 3-year-old. Well, nothing of the sort. There was dinner, play time, a car ride to get ice cream in their pajamas, a little giggling before bed, then uninterrupted sleep all night. Success by any standard.

I have taken over the doing the finances for Matt, and there has been much weeping and gnashing of teeth from this creative and disorganized right brain girl. Sure, there have been some insufficient funds transfers and one late electric bill, but I'm proud to say it's finally starting to make sense. By golly, with Quicken and coffee, I'm getting it.

Karis is growing up before our very eyes. She's asking deep, honest questions about the world around her. Yesterday we talked about heaven and honeybees. Today was cows and the milk they make. "Why" is never a single question. It's guaranteed to be followed up with further investigation. To my delight, she is becoming a much more willing photography subject. I pulled out my camera today, and she zoomed right up to me, stood straight, and smiled. I would have given anything for that willingness a year and half ago.

Their first jam session

We gave Karis her first guitar this past weekend. To say she was excited is an understatement. In no time at all, she scooted a chair up next to Matt. They each tuned their instruments and began singing and strumming to Karis' song of choice, Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star. They followed up with Row, Row, Row Your Boat and finished with It's a Small World After All.

When Karis woke up the next morning, the first thing she told Matt was: "I had a dream about my guitar. We were playing and singing together. Then we saw baby Jesus and Joseph at the end." I don't exactly know how to interpret the dream, but I'm pretty sure she loves the guitar.

My grandfather would have found this interesting

Buddy, my dad's dad, was an archaeologist and avid collector of antiques. His home was a musty, ranch style home with a rock garden in the front and the beautiful, wide Caloosahatchee River flowing in the back. It was filled with treasures from his years in the military and many foreign travels. I remember hearing him tell stories throughout my childhood about where he found and purchased his treasures over the years. Ornamental pots from Asia. Rugs from Persia. Stuffed alligators from his beloved home-state of Florida. Two hundred year old books in his library. Paintings of native Caloosa Indians in his bathroom. I miss him, his stories, and his home. I hope to write more about him one day soon.

I bring up Buddy because the older I get I realize how much alike him I am in my love for studying people.  One silly way I see this is in my observance of Karis and the random piles of toys I find throughout the house. I wonder what goes through her mind as she plays, and sometimes I find I can learn things about her by looking at the evidence of her play. I first blogged about this here in a humorous way, but I realized today how many photos I've taken of her things over the last few weeks. My memory card on my camera is filled with photos of random collections of her toys that I have observed and thought were funny. Though at night I'm less than thrilled to have to pick up so many toys, I love this girl and the crazy things she leaves laying around.

P.S. Sorry for the spacing issues. Anybody else having formatting issues with blogger?


I found this shrine of sorts parked in front of the kitchen stove the other day. It consists of a step stool with some bowls, a plate, a stuffed elephant, a few napkins, a cup, and, strangely, a Gideon's Bible.


A horse eating a giant piece of cake and a pink water bowl.


A horse on window sill. Sure--where else would you store your horse after playing with it?















This is a scene I often find in her room. All of her farm animals lined up in circles having a "carnival" as she calls it.






A couple of weeks ago she was sick with an ear infection and a throat infection. I found her lining up all of her animals in a row. She told me they were all sick. I'm not sure if they were lined up to go to the doctor or what exactly was going on, but I have to admit I was excited to find my imaginative, creative (read: often flighty) child actually organizing something. :-)

Pokey the puppy attatched by string to a princess. The string is wrapped around the princess neck, and it makes me wonder who was walking whom.

A messy kitchen

There is more dirt in my kitchen these days. Up until now I have taken for granted the bath food receives before being placed on the shelf at the supermarket. So when I first signed up for a weekly produce and egg delivery from a local CSA, I never considered how messy this endeavor could be. I now receive sandy strawberries and gritty cauliflower. And those beautiful eggs? Covered in bird waste. It's not glamorous but true.

My hands and counters have gotten quite dirty in this process. But it's a fair trade-off in my mind. The farmers don't wash the produce before delivering it to me, but the food is harvested by the farmers' hands and, within days, delivered straight into mine. I'm learning I can live the mess.

Self

Karis drew her first self-portrait the other day during art time at the library. The teacher placed mirrors in front of each child and instructed them to "draw what you see".

I was very skeptical at first, figuring this was kind of a lame, last minute exercise that 3-year-olds really couldn't grasp. Was I ever short-sighted in my thinking! I watched in amazement as Karis drew her first stick figure and recognizable object. A large (nearly perfect) circle for a head, two legs, eyes, ears, hair, and a few extra features I wouldn't have expected such as her forehead (in red) and a "little" stomach (the blue patch under the mouth).

To be honest, I felt guilty for doubting her abilities. Sometimes I think as a parent I am both the most and least qualified person to say what my child is capable of. Spending literally every waking hour with her makes me an expert in what she's capable of doing right now, but I think it also creates natural blind spots in my faith in her ability to handle the next step. I think it's an honestly-fought struggle and something I hear lots of parents battle within themselves.

One thing I know for sure is that I have insisted Karis show off the picture to everyone who's entered our home since then. And if I keep bragging at this rate, that large circle "head" is only going to get bigger.

Spring-like

The Japanese Magnolias in our neighbor's yard are in full bloom. For two weeks out of the year, the tree explodes with pink-ish lavender blooms all over. Matt and I aren't fans of this tree ordinarily, but we've just about agreed that these two weeks make up for the other boring fifty.

The water oaks are shedding their leaves, leaving piles of yellow leaves pooling in the street. Good neighbor Bob was out front yesterday sweeping up the leaves in piles and bagging them. I remarked to him on the backwardness of a tree losing it's leaves in the spring, and he informed me "the sap is rising and pushing out the old leaves to make room for the new."

This morning I noticed Miss Libby's potted geraniums and rabbit's foot fern have been put back out on the front steps in the wake of recent warmer weather. No sooner did I see that than I heard her lawn mower crank on and my eighty-six year old neighbor slowly pushing the shiny green machine down her driveway to the front yard. I waved to her as I put Karis in her car seat, and she waved back. When Karis asked who I waved to, I responded, "Miss Libby, my hero".

I like getting to know the seasonal calender of my neighborhood a little bit more every year.

Snapshot

This is how I want to remember these days...

I am busy, busy caring for Karis and her friend E (whom I watch full time). My house is littered with play clothes, blankets, toys, dolls, play dough, art supplies, snacks, a pack 'n play, puzzles, so on and so forth. I'm tired but I wouldn't have it any other way right now.

After a few years off, Matt is reentering the world of leading worship for church. His music stuff is scattered throughout the house, and Karis inevitably finds alternative uses for each item. His guitar case makes a fabulous "horse", for example.

Karis is growing in her affection and care for Keller. She can now fill Keller's dinner bowl, instruct her to sit, and then gives the "ok" command for Keller to begin eating. Karis is so, so proud of herself.

Keller, always patient and kind with her young master, sometimes can't hide her annoyance on her face.

Lately

I spent some time photographing this cool little guy with his very cool parents. He is the kind of baby that makes a mom want another baby, despite years of saying otherwise.

I've been reading the Little House on the Prairie series the last few weeks, and I'm really enjoying it. I've taken to referencing Ma and Pa a lot lately as if they are personal acquaintances. Matt's initial amusement has given way to annoyance.

My fridge has been invaded by mounds of kale, cabbage and other fresh produce from a local CSA, Fresh Harvest Farm. I'm thrilled with our experience and the affordable prices, but I'm finding that there is a learning curve involved in this sort of commitment. I found myself literally sweating in my kitchen today as I tried to figure out how I was going to use and not waste any of it. I know we'll get into a rhythm eventually.

In a new wave of independence, this little lady bug/ballerina/princess is helping herself to a lot more in our kitchen these days. She is just tall enough to see what's resting on the counters and just long enough to reach those goodies. I found her parked in front of a ramekin of kosher salt the other day, licking her salt encrusted fingers. I guess that's better than the candy jar?

Thursday mayhem