Happy Mother's Day

Brett & Relyn

I think this picture of my brother and me is a perfect Mother's Day picture.  It shows exactly how my mom has always made us feel.  Look at those happy, smiling, laughing faces.  Notice the book. Pay attention to the stylish home: the cool phone, the plants, the stylin', comfy sofa.  See the joy?

Motherhood in one simple snapshot.  At least, my own mother's version of it.  The ingredients she mixed are simple enough to write about.  But, they are not so easy to live out.  It takes courage, passion, compassion, intelligence, dedication, energy, prayer, faith, and so much love to be a mother like mine is.  But, oh, when you have a mother like mine...  life is nothing short of magic.

My Mom's Motherhood Recipe went something like this:

Laugh:  Give your children a happy childhood.  Laugh with them.  Play with them.  Listen to them.  Don't argue.  Teach your family that home is a place for friendship and joy.
Books:  Fill your children's lives with books and stories.  Read to them at night. Talk about what you are reading.  Listen to them read aloud.  Take them to the library once a week to stock up.  Buy them books as often as you can.  Have a personal library in each child's bedroom.
Home:  Make it beautiful and comfortable.  Work to keep it clean and tidy.  Life just works better without the clutter and mess.  Be organized.  Keep life in the house; nurture plants and pets alongside the children and marriage.  Take care of the things you are blessed enough to own and make your environment as beautiful as you know how.  Invite people over and treat them like they are special. Serve them nice food at a beautiful table and listen to their stories.  Be a good hostess. Above all, make home a safe place to return to after walking in this weary world.  Make home a haven and a refuge; the one place you can always find absolute love and acceptance.
Listen:  Keep the phone handy.  Let your child know that no matter where they are, what they are doing, or what kind of life they choose, you are - at most - only a phone call away.  Listen.  Talk.  Share.  Nobody cares about your life like your mother does.
Love: There are too many words for this one.  My heart is too full to tell you how my mother loved us; loves us still. Maybe this will give you a glimpse.  When I lived at home, my mom woke me up every morning with a song and a smile.  Every morning.  Now, we talk on the phone nearly every day.  And no one, not one single person know about the details of my life, my friends, my triumphs and frustrations like my mother does.

There just aren't enough words to speak the fullness of my heart.  I love you, Mom.  Happy Mother's Day.

the power of cheesecake

I've been fairy quiet in this place lately.  It's just so easy to become overwhelmed by life and forget to make time to reflect and record the days.  Oh, I write in my own journals every day.  But, there's just something about sharing your stories with someone else that I find compelling.  So.  Here I am again, after months of near silence, hoping I still have someone who wants to hear a few of my ramblings.  

Nearly a month ago, Sloane had a bike wreck and received a concussion. For the first several hours she couldn't remember the past three days or form new memories.  Those were a few long, scary hours, let me tell you.  She had a few weeks of no physical activity and a lot of brain rest.  From there, our schedule jumped right into full on crazy.  I was gone for work, we had guests, I had parent teacher conferences, grade cards are nearly due...  Blah, blah, blah.  We all have busy lives and busy seasons.  February has been one of mine.  I'm just weary.

Jeffrey and Sloane get up early most Saturday mornings and go for a hike in time to see the sunrise.  I go sometimes, but they knew that what I really needed was rest.  Late this morning they called me excitedly to share their plans for the rest our day.   There are lots of things on the list, things they both know I love.  Things like shopping in some favorite stores, dinner at a family favorite restaurant.  This afternoon includes dropping me off at Barnes and Noble for some time to browse all the books and yummy magazines and enjoy a piece of cheesecake.

It's a simple thing, really: quiet time in a bookstore and cheesecake.  It's also profound.  You see, Jeffrey knows me.  He knows me and he loves me and he looks for ways to give me what I need (quiet) and what I enjoy (chocolate).  Cheesecake is a small thing.  It can also be everything, can't it?

Nearly 14

This is my beautiful girl a few months ago at the start of eighth grade.  Now, Sloane will be 14 in just a few hours.  Each year I kneel by her bedside and remember all the sweetness from the previous year.  I pray and thank God for all His many blessings.  I cry.  I commit her and her next year into His care.  Every year for fourteen years, I've spent a small part of November 8th crying.

Someone once asked me why I cry so easily.  I told her, my heart is just so full. Sometimes it just overflows in tears.  And, that's about right.  When I think of my darling girl, my heart is so full that sometimes I just can't help but cry.

This year instead of sneaking into her room long after she's asleep, I lay beside her in her bed and played with her hair and shared my prayer with her.  She's a quiet, thoughtful, pondering kind of girl, so I don't know really what she thought of it.    But I know this.  She has no doubt her momma loves her.  She knows for certain I trust God to meet her needs and help her grow.  I don't know if she will even remember a single specific part of my prayer for her.  Really, that's not what matters.  What matters, is that she knows that I pray for her.  She knows that I love her.  She knows that I trust God to meet all her needs.  And that, I think, is the very best gift I can give her as she begins her fourteenth year.

Happy birthday, my darling girl.  Your momma loves you so much.

Dressing Up

This post was based on Day 16: Ten Years Ago

Sloane , three, in one of my favorite costumes.  (This is the ten years ago photo.)

When I was a kid, I always loved costume parties and dressing up. I wished I had a wonderful granny's attic to explore. It would be full of old clothes and great shoes, and funny things like parasols, opera glasses, and old silver utensils whose use has been lost to time. There would be a beat up old leather trunk.  Inside it would be a clutch of fading airmail enveloped tied with a lavender ribbon and a few pale yellow roses along with an old quilt and a handful of pictures of young and smiling soldiers.  The corner of the attic might house a dusty old telescope and an unbelievably wobbly pile of vintage National Geographics.  Actually

, I still wish for that attic. 

Sloane, seven, at Disney just after our princess lunch.

In the spirit of playing dress up and exploring dusty old things, I always tried to give Sloane many props for her imagination.  When she was little I made sure to have plenty of craft supplies, kid-cooking ingredients, and a high tolerance for mess.  I turned by old toy chest into a cram-packed dress up box, and I refilled it every November 1st during After-Halloween sales.  I stuffed that thing full of costumes, party dresses, sparkly jewels, purses, scarves, wigs, and clompy high heeled shoes. I didn't forget the non-princess adventures and included knights' helmets, swords, a hook, and a few pirate hats.  That treasure box is currently up in our attic, collecting dust and waiting for someday when grand-babies will come exploring. 

Sloane, nine, dressed for Fifties Night and wearing my classring.

I might not have opera glasses and chipped china tea cups.  But I sure do have Mardi Gras beads, ladybug costumes, and cheap jewelry.  Oh, and one pair of really great Christmas socks.  

Sloane, thirteen, on Christmas Sock Day.

a week of ordinary miracles, day 6

I am sitting here at the computer to type my post.  My daughter sits on the floor beside me with her head on my knee.  From time to time I stop typing and scratch her back.  Occasionally she shows me something she's just discovered on Pinterest.  We sing along to the country playlist I have going.  Quiet contentment. Love.  The best ordinary miracle of all.

another year older...

autumn in the Ozarks

Sloane turns thirteen tomorrow, and we've spent the weekend doing all her favorite things.  Her big party with friends will be next weekend because she hates to celebrate early.  Last night we played games, baked a complicated cake, and had pizza with my parents.  Today we spent the day in the woods, the place where Sloane is happiest.  She loves the woods the way I love water and Jeffrey loves the mountains.  Tomorrow we'll have a big family dinner and celebration.  And, tonight?

Tonight she sleeps sweetly while her Daddy and I wrap gifts and write a card.  Soon I'll sneak them into her room.  Sloane has woken to a pile of gifts every November 9 since she turned one.  I try to make that single day of each year absolutely perfect.  I think having one perfect day that is all about her is such a nice way to say, "I love you.  You're special to me.  I'm so glad to be your Momma."

Each year I place the gifts oh, so carefully and then I sit on the floor beside her bed and pray over her.  I thank God for another magical year with my precious girl.  Yes, I cry.  Every year.  Every single time I pray her birthday prayer, I cry.  I have so much to thank Him for, my heart just overflows in tears.

 

Sloane, nearly two, November 2003 ~ photograph by Jim Mayfield

People always tell me how beautiful Sloane is.  And she is.  She always has been.  But I always want to tell them, "You should see her heart.  You should take a peek at her soul.  That's her real beauty."

Sloane, last day of 6th grade, June 2014

Yes, she has long, golden hair and blue, blue eyes.  Yes she is tall and well proportioned and walks with a certain grace.  But, that's not it.  I think people find her pretty because she is kind.  She is lovely because she listens to people and cares about them.  Her eyes are beautiful, not because they are the same shade as ripe blueberries, but because she really looks at you when she speaks to you.  She pays attention.  Sloane knows each one of my students by name and temperament.  She hugs them good-bye every day when they head to the bus; not because she likes hugs.  She really doesn't.  She hugs them because they like hugs.  Sloane is beautiful because her amazing heart shines right out of her eyes, her smile, even her hair glows with it.  She shines.

Tonight, I'll pray that shine never dims.  I'll pray she remains kind no matter how cruel life can be.  I'll pray she continues to love people whether or not they love her back.  I'll pray that she is always beautiful, no matter what time does to her body and face.  I'll pray that she always shines.  And, I'll thank God for every miracle day I have to be her Momma.

Happy birthday, to my darling girl.  Momma loves you.

August Break 16

beautiful Sloane on the first day of Jr. High

Today's prompt: love

The last day of August is here already.  I love that our last prompt is love.  I love blogging.  I love my camera.  I love capturing little bits of life here in this space with both my camera and my words.  But, most of all, I love my life, my Jeffrey, and my Sloane.  God has been so very good to me.  Here's a picture I love of Sloane.  Oh, how I cherish that sweet, smart, funny, kind girl!  Happy September, friends.

a prayer for my daughter

Sloane, first day of Kindergarten

Sloane begins Jr. High this morning.  It's a big milestone, and it feels as though Jeffrey and I are beginning a new chapter in our lives as parents.  I feel excited for Sloane and proud of the young woman she is becoming.  I also feel the heavy weight of raising a godly woman in today's sexually aware, quickly mature society.  More than ever, I feel the need to cover my child with prayer.  I know in my heart that God's will is the only real safety we ever have.  But, I feel that to be truer than it has ever been.  Like every morning of her life, I pray for Sloane, and I commit her into the Father's keeping.  This is my prayer for my daughter.  It is my prayer for your daughters, too.

Lord,
I ask you to keep Sloane safe in mind and spirit and body.  Most of all, I ask you to keep her faith strong as she seeks to serve you in a world that doesn't believe.  Help her to be like Jesus so that her life will be her witness.  

As she walks the halls of her Jr. High, I know she will encounter unkindness.  She will feel ignored, left out, and misunderstood.  Help her to give love in return for hate, kindness in return for meanness, and forgiveness even when it is not sought.  

I know she will be asked to give up her innocence in exchange for acceptance.  She will be tempted to disobey, to curse, and to mock.  Help her to cling to your Word.  Help her to "think on these things."  Philippians 4:8 

As she grows older, she will like boys and be liked by them in return.  Help her to give her heart carefully and to save her body completely.  Help her to remember that you already know who she is to marry, if she remains in your plan.  Help her to choose to "do him good... all the days of her life."  Proverbs 31:12

As she begins to grow into womanhood, I know she will question who she is and who she wants to become.  Help her to know, bone deep, that you have a plan for her.  Jeremiah 29:11  Help her to seek your will and to follow you all of her days.  

Thank you for my daughter, Lord.  Thank you for the very great joy of being her mother.  Make me worthy of such a gift.  Make me into the mother that she needs.  Give me wisdom.  Help me to show Sloane every day of her life that she is my greatest blessing, exactly as she is.

Sloane, first day of Jr. High

August Break, 3

Twirling, Sloane, age 10

Today's prompt: orange

Do you remember twirling?
It's always been one of my favorite things to do.
Tell me that you haven't stopped twirling.
Tell me you still spin yourself silly sometimes.
Tell me that you take time to twirl with the little ones in your life;  that you 
show them by example how important it is to twirl, to spin, to giggle and laugh and dream.
Let's twirl.

I love to twirl.  It's silly and fun and somehow so natural.  I never had to teach Sloane to twirl, she just did it.  Still does.  It's our thing.  Maybe it's one thing that belongs to all of us.  I mean, I have never known a little girl who didn't twirl.  When a little boy does it, we call it spinning, but it's the same thing.  Even Wonder Woman did it to lay full claim to her powers.  Maybe if more adults would twirl, we'd have an easier time claiming our superhero powers, too. 

Emily wrote beautifully about twirling.  She's right: we are all called to just do our thing.  Our own thing and not someone else's.  We are not called to be a faded copy of whatever is popular just now.  We don't need to fit into any mold.  If your thing is to sing, then sing with all your heart.  If it is to teach, then teach with everything that's in you.  If your thing is to write poems, then write them true.  I believe that God calls us to just be ourselves, the beautiful selves that He created; that He cherishes.  And, when we live as the person He truly called us to be, we bring Him great joy.  For me, that means being Jeffrey's wife, Sloane's Momma, and teacher to a whole bunch of kids.  It means singing, laughing, car seat dancing, jumping on beds, silliness, and a whole lot of twirling.  

Let's twirl.

farewell to elementary school days

That's Sloane, on the playground of the school she attended all seven years of elementary school.  Yesterday was Sloane's last day of sixth grade.  Goodness. I still remember walking her to Kindergarten like it was yesterday. 

Sloane isn't remembering yesterday, though.  She's looking forward.  She's eager to hang out with friends and swim this summer.  She is ready to take on Jr. High in six weeks.  Like most children, her view is mostly toward the exciting future. 

That makes remembering and recording the past our jobs, doesn't it?  We need to take the pictures, record the videos, write the stories, save the artwork.  We need to do what we can to save tiny bits and pieces of the past.  It surely won't come again.

Sloane's Zoo

 You know what I love?  I love turning a passing thought that's actually a really good idea, into reality.  That's what I've been doing lately. Let me show you.

It all started when I stumbled on Hippopata.  Don't you just love it?  As soon as I saw that hippo, I knew I needed to do have a portrait of Gareth for Sloane.  Wait!  $900 minimum.  We can't do that; just can't.

So, the idea sat in the back of my mind and I pondered.  Of course, if I am going to the trouble to set up a photo shoot for Gareth, why wouldn't I do it for all Sloane's stuffies?  The two constant loves in Sloane's childhood have been books and stuffies.

The final impetus came when Sloane wanted to clean our her closet and pack away several of her old friends.  You notice, we are storing them - no getting rid of family members for the Lawson girls.  Attic, here we come.  Before we did it, I told her that I would have a photo shoot for her stuffies.  They've been family members, after all.  Each one has a name and a distinct story.  In fact, we used to play a game at bedtime.  Sloane would close her eyes and I would choose a random stuffed animal for her to sleep with that night.  (Along with Gareth.  She always sleeps with Gareth.)  Sloane could tell me which stuffie it was every single time - without looking.  She knew them so well, she could recognize them by touch.

So.  What would I need to take photos like that?  Turns out, not much.  Just a light box.  Thank you, Anne, Jeffrey, and Arlen.  My husband and his sweet brother actually made the light box for me from a tutorial I found online.  The cost was less than $5.00, and it only took 30 minutes.  Perfect!  I'm not finished with the project.  Sloane has at least 76 stuffed animals, after all.  I am pleased with what I've done so far though.

What about you?  What good ideas can you turn into reality?

eleven

Today is Sloane's twelfth birthday, and it has been perfect. We got up early and snuggled and laughed and played.  Then, I ran the clean up crew while she baked cupcakes for her guests.  Her best girlfriends came over this afternoon for a birthday sleepover.  My parents came for the dinner (beef ribs) Jeffrey had been cooking all day long.  After dinner and presents and cupcakes, we all played Bananagrams for at least an hour.  Now the girls are in the sparkle room under a canopy of crepe paper and balloons.  The house is clean again and the adults are so tired.  It's a lot of work having this much fun, you know.  What I really want is my bed, but before I do, I want to take an accounting.  

As I've done every birthday of her life (five of them right here on this blog), it's time to be still.  Time to remember. Time to try and capture a little bit of eleven to save, to pull out later and smile over.  

Sloane, at eleven

What I want to remember about eleven...

• the way Sloane is more than comfortable in the woods; she comes alive there.  The woods are her soul place. 
• how she has become a real baker this year.  She takes on more and more sophisticated recipes and does them with growing speed and independence.  Her rain forest cupcakes are the most delicious I've ever eaten. 
• how proud Sloane was when she shot her first turkey and the way we are saving it to eat when Papa and Grandma get here. 
• her daily pleasure in band and in learning to play the clarinet. 
• her growing poise and confidence as people begin to treat her as a young adult. 
• the way she still sleeps with Gareth every night.
• the tug on my heart when she quit sleeping with any other stuffie. 
• the sweet way she asked for my permission before putting her American Girl dolls into her closet. 
• the way she doesn't often need my help with tasks, but always loves my company. 
• her giddy exhaustion when she got home from camp. 
• the fact that her Daddy is still the best man, and best cook, she's ever known. 
• her quiet contentment outdoors.  (see above)
• her kindness and the way other adults tell me she treats her peers with respect and compassion. 
• her excellent gift for friendship.  Like giving up her deer hunting trip because it was more important to attend her best friend's birthday party. 
• the way she quickly forgives and so easily lets go of hurts. 
• her pure pleasure in swimming and her loyalty to her original swim team. Plus, all her wins at the meets.
• the way she talks more and more like a teenager: What up, Mom?
• her joy at playing with her cousins this summer.
• her first reading of Ender's Game, and that she loved it. 
• the way she has really begun to take care of her skin and hair and nails. 
• watching she and her best friends worship and pray at Winter Jam.
• her love of youth group and the way she answers, "prayer time" to my weekly question, "What was the best thing about youth group tonight?" 

I have been Sloane's mother for 4,382 days.  That's an awfully big number for time that feels as though it took no more than a few weeks to pass.  The days rush on and on and I try to catch just a little bit of it here.  I want to, not just know, but say, that Sloane has brought so much joy into my life.  She has made each and every day for 12 years sparkle and shine for her Daddy and I.  We are so blessed.  Happy birthday, darling girl.

a birthday list

If you know me much at all, you know that I hold on to things just a little bit past their expiration date.  Sloane turned eleven today and she had a wonderful birthday.  We all enjoyed every minute of it.  Now, here I am at the end of the first day of her eleventh year - celebrating ten.  I find it necessary for me to look at something closely and offer deep thanks before letting it sink into the past.

What I want to remember about ten...

• the bittersweet moment when I realized that Sloane was at school every day without me - and we were both OK with it
• how she never lets anything ruffle her feathers or aggravate her
• the deep well of compassion that has her begging us to sponsor a child from Watoto and has her spending hours writing letters to our little Anita
• the excitement on her face as she received her school iPad, and watching her become more and more comfortable with technology
• the way she inevitably asks us to turn the radio back to our local Christian station
• her easy acceptance with the faults of others
• how she never goes anywhere without at least 3 books in her backpack
• swim team and volleyball adventures
• her love for her music teacher and her passion to sing in the choir and play the guitar
• the strange mixture of little girl and young woman, content with both American Girl dolls and mascara
• the joyful, marvelous tenth birthday trip to Alaska with my parents
• her gift for friendship
• that great big heart full of love, the heart that has her look up at her Daddy with big eyes and say, "Daddy, Operation Christmas Child is my very favorite part of Christmas."
• her passion for cupcakes and owls as decorative motifs
• that she still asks me to snuggle with her before she goes to sleep
• she adores dragons, but refuses to read any book in which the dragons are villains (with the exception of The Hobbit, which she has read four times this year)
• how much she enjoyed redoing her bedroom this past summer
• when she flew alone to Oregon and never once was nervous
• the way she volunteers with a little autistic boy during Children's Church and is endlessly patient with him
• her kindness to my second graders and her patience with their hero-worship
• the fact that she went to bed last night with Gareth tucked under her chin, she's not too old yet
• and the way that tonight she has Gareth and Hootie (her new owl stuffie) wrapped in her arms as she falls asleep

What a joyful thing it is, being momma.

ten

So that's it;
the last time I'll snuggle my ten year old before sleep.

Sloane turns eleven tomorrow.
Like every other parent, I marvel at how the days slip past in a blur.

I cry a bit at how quickly the thread of these childhood years is spun out.
The spool is more than half empty.

In less time than it has taken for her to turn eleven, she will be gone from home.
She will be off having adventures and meeting people we know nothing about.

She will be grown.

My heart aches at that thought.
Wait, my heart begs.  Wait.  Slow down.  Just a little, sweetheart.  Just a little.  

But time, and little girls, just don't wait.
They grow and blossom and become women while you watch.

And, if you're smart, and very, very blessed
you know enough to pay attention - to not miss a thing.

Because it is over more quickly than you can imagine.
Don't blink.

Sloane was three or four months old in this picture.  She always has been this delightful. 

inspired by Sloane

Well, I think I've done it.  I've managed to pass along the list writing compulsion to my daughter.  Today's wonderful list was created and inspired entirely by Sloane and a friend at school. The first 13 entries are theirs.  The rest, we came up with together.  

Things That Are Impossible To Enjoy

* eating or smelling a Durian (This is a fruit that smells like cat pee.) *

* watching someone enjoy eating school food * 

* someone stealing your last Oreo * 

* forgetting your homework * 

* eating school food * 

* writer's block *

* push ups*

* forgetting to set the timer when baking cookies * 

* Operation Red Jericho by Joshua Mowll* 

* your favorite shoes getting too small *

* having to run the mile in PE * 

* extra lit circle reading * 

* crybabies * 

* having your cell phone battery die in the middle of a conversation * 

* a flat tire on your way to an appointment *

 * cleaning the bathroom toilets *

* when your candidate loses *

* emptying the dishwasher * 

* computer crashes *

* being on hold * 

* running late *

*your parents being in China on your birthday*

* broken air-conditioning in August * 

* back-ordered Christmas gifts *

* breaking an heirloom * 

* undeliverable email * 

* missing lunch * 

Jeffrey took the picture of Sloane and I last weekend. I edited it this morning.  

fifth grade

Today was a big day for me as a momma...

It was the first day Sloane has ever gone to school without either Jeffrey or I in the building.  

I have to admit, my stomach hurt a little bit as I dropped her off. 

At the door.  

She didn't need me to walk her in. 

My heart ached a little, even as I was so proud of her.  

I wasn't worried about her, of course not.

I was sad, because she took another step away. 

A necessary one, yes.

But still...

A friend of mine is about to send her daughter to college. 

Last Sunday was likely the last time their family will ever worship consistently together. 

You know what it's like once they go off to college.

Elyse is just 8 years older than Sloane. 

And my heart aches a little more. 

And I get up, wipe my eyes, and remind myself that these days are fleeting.

I'd better make them count. 

my brave girl

Sloane leaves today for 10 days in Oregon with her cousins and grandparents.  

Without us. 

When I was 10, I would have been just as excited and as eager as she is now.

(My Mom says that's true, by the way.)

Now that I am 41, I know just how brave she is.

I am proud that she is a girl who does things, who goes places, who takes risks. 

I pray that she never loses the heart of the girl she is right now.  

This silly, funny, constantly-reading, brave little girl.  

I hope she is always ready to pack a backpack full of books (9 for this trip),

a Bible, a journal, her favorite pen, colored pencils, a pack of gum, and Gareth.

And me?  I'll be the one waving and smiling as she flies away,
knowing I've tucked goodies and love notes into all the corners of her bag.

I'll be the one cheering her on; delighted that she's a risk-taker.
I'll be the one standing there crying, holding her Daddy's hand; so proud I could burst. 

I counted today and there are 25 days left of my summer.  

I go back to work on August 6th.

By then I will be ready, but just now I crave 25 more days just like the ones I've enjoyed so far. 

I've been spending my days with a girl who most often smiles just like that.^

We swim and play volleyball.  

We read and write and have lots and lots of playdates.  

We laugh and chat and cook and watch old episodes of Chopped.

Sloane has grown up a lot this summer.

Our time together is often more like two girlfriends than parent and child.

She's not a teenager yet, but I can see it from here.

And, you know what?   

It's going to be great!

like a squirrel

November is kicking my butt this year.
Every day is rush and hurry and scurry.
I feel like a squirrel readying herself for winter.

Yes, I am tired.
But, oh! I don't want to stop.
All this hurrying and scurrying is good stuff - fun stuff.

Like this weekend.
We're celebrating Sloane's tenth birthday at a hotel
with her four best friends and an indoor pool. How cool is that?

And get this.
She made her own cake;
a peanut butter chocolate confection she invented.

She made her own cake
because she wanted to make something wonderful to give her best friends.
What a kid!

I need a quiet place like this one just now. Taken at the Old State House Museum in Little Rock.