Woodland Fairies

Tinkerbell and the Water Fairy scatter their magic dust in the fields. Body glitter, mascara and flowing dresses make them feel like a million bucks. They look it, too.

Lucky to have these little beauties!

Someday my prince will come...

Jake's sister Aliza and I went to take photos of Lillie. She wanted me to "teach her a couple things" about shooting in manual mode, exposure, shutter speed, aperture, etc. It was so fun to see these photos that she got. She has the ability to precisely capture my baby and me. I was amazed. I love these, since I'm not usually in very many pictures, they're priceless to me. Also priceless because, well, I spend 30 hours a day with this little thing (or so it seems), and I like when it's recorded now and then.

Oh, and she really is the most beautiful child in the world. Ever.

It's nights like tonight, when Lillie climbs up onto the kitchen chair next to me and throws dirty socks into my bowl of spaghetti. It's nights like this I sigh a lot. I sigh when I see the huge mountain of laundry piled on my bed (at least it's clean). Or when I survey the need for dinner, baths, homework, chores, phone calls, cleaning, kids' individual time, clipping their fingernails, and realize with a big weight that there is no way I can do everything.

There's always a bright side. That silly run that Lillie does down the hall, her legs hardly bending, drool seeping out of her gaping smile, her shoulders scrunched up toward her ears and her chest out, no part of her prepared to catch her body when she falls. There's nothing funnier than seeing her run.

I have no photos tonight, only a picture in my head of all my girls in the grocery cart, meandering down the aisles. They were all in one place, concentrated in a four foot square, sharing space and brushing up against each other like it was normal. This is their world, every waking moment spent with their lives revolving around each other, sharing a room, arguing about food, noticing unfairness in everything.

I think when they're older I will long for the ability to concentrate them into a small space again like that. Have my lanky-six-year-old feed my baby part of her free supermarket cookie. I may not even miss their ages quite as much as I'll miss our closeness, our daily battle for survival. It's hard, but I love it.

Self Awareness

"Take some pictures of me looking pretty, like this, and can we upload them on the computer? Can we take some and then upload them, and I can look at them with you, me and you can look at them and I can just try this with my hands? I want to lean against the couch like this."

A hand me down tank top from who-knows-where and a french braid must have sparked her inner bouquet of beauty and it came alive all of the sudden. She started to swagger down the hallway and the photos were her idea. I love a kid that wants me to take pictures! It's a welcomed change!

My gorgeous Ruby.

Bathing

In love with the rainy day today and looking forward to the weekend.

Sharing

3 Bussly Little Things

Another week is done and I'm left with a few blurry remembrances of the weekend. Shiny little eyes danced and weaved through the house, onto the soccer field, through a grocery store and gas station, onto our church bench. The girls with their delicate little wrists grabbed my hands as we retrieved popsicles from the freezer and stomped on some fire ants.

All but completely lifeless, Jake and I sat on the couch tonight finishing our 9 o'clock dinner. Girls came out one by one to tell on each other for doing that and that, and explain the unfairness of that. We both agreed that their growing intelligence, reason, communication, and logic is beyond our ability to absorb.

You can watch them talk, see their mouths moving, and all you hear is this melody, the sweetest song, coming from their deepness, filling the air. You see yesterday, today, tomorrow, stretching into something unknown and far away but you can feel it coming. An older version of themselves. Independent, knowing and strong.

Soon they'll know us, inside and out. And I'll feel as exposed as my mother probably felt. No one will know me like they will, and likewise. I can't believe these little gifts I've been given. I shake my head every day in disbelief. They're mine. At least for now. And I love it.

Car Wash

Problems.

So do you want to hear something super duper lame? The lamest ever? Something happened to my computer. It got some sort of virus, or I accidentally blocked an important program (but let's not point fingers)... And I can't log in to Google. I can't post from my computer or comment signed in as me, or check all the blogs I follow (and don't know the links to if I don't sign in). I also can't read private blogs from this piece of junk. I know, everyone take in a big gasp for me. It's horrible. But I have to make do. We may eventually have to buy a new one (this time, an Apple). Posting may be light, but I want to keep up on photos I take of the kids in the meantime.

My computer can take its dumpy behind and go belong to someone else. Unless it gets fixed and then of course, it's welcomed back with open arms.

Here are a few photos of Ruby's soccer game on Saturday. She runs after the ball just as intensely as she stands still chewing her nails when she should be running after the ball. We love her. Even though within the first five minutes of the game she is begging to go home. What a wuss!

Jake coaches Grace's team, Ruby plays on a team in the same league, and I try to keep Lillie occupied in the stroller, rushing back and forth between games on a grassy dewy soccer field, at 8a.m. Saturday morning. While I try to take at least a few photos.

Anyone that has the ability to sleep in on Saturdays, sleep an extra couple hours for me.

Sicky

This week, I took Grace to the doctor and she has pneumonia. She's been on medicine and happily skipping out on soccer practice and P.E. at school.

She's feeling better and we have been saying nightly prayers for her lungs.