"Hello? Hello, Poppy! Hi Poppy! Heeeellloooooo, Poppy!"
"Clara, who's Poppy?"
*smiling mischievously* "Hi, Poppy! Hello, Pop! Hi Pop. Hiiiiii, Pop!"
"Clara, who's Pop?"
"Hi, Pop! Hello, Pop!"
"Clara, Pop who???"
"Pop.... CORN!" *much laughter and giggling* "Funny joke!"
~~~
*looking out our bedroom window first thing in the morning* "Puppy dog in road! ... Horsey in road!"
*Luke checks the window* "There's no puppy in the road!"
"Elephant in road!" *giggles* "Cars in road. Cars going by fast. Cars..... cars eat grass." *more giggles*
~~~
"Mama, get out crib."
"You want me to get someone out of your crib?" *thinking her bear, bunny, etc.*
"Uh HUH."
"Who do you want me to get out of your crib?"
"Get.... Kai-yine (her friend Karoline) out crib!"
"You silly girl, Karoline's not in your crib!"
"Get.... Ah-bewwy (friend Annabelle) out crib!"
"You're so silly. Annabelle's not in your crib! Would you like Jija?"
"Uh HUH! Jija have diaper on!"
~~~
"Clara, does this doll have a name?"
"Uh huh."
"What's her name?"
"Olson!"
"Does she have another name? Your name is Clara Olson, does she have another name?"
"Uh HUH!"
"What's her name?"
"Emmy LISbeth!" (i.e. Emily Elisabeth - she's a little obsessed with Clifford at the moment)
~~~
*At Bible study, someone says something about having the Holy Spirit*
"Mama, I'N have Howy Spiwit!"
Yes, baby girl, that is your mama's daily prayer.
July 20, 2011
July 14, 2011
Samuel and Peter
In my Bible reading I am currently in both 1 Samuel and Mark. I have to admit, sometimes I am jealous of all those Old Testament saints, like Samuel. From the time he was a young boy, there was never any doubt about the path of his life. God called him clearly at a young age in a voice so audible, he thought it was Eli! From that time on everyone around him recognized his calling and God clearly spoke through him for the rest of his life. I doubt he ever wondered what he would be when he grew up - that was pretty clear. Did he ever wonder if God had truly called him, if he was really living the life God wanted him to live, if there was something more or other that he should be doing for God? It certainly doesn't seem like he did. And he's not the only one. In many ways, life for the OT saints seems so much simpler, so much clearer. God told them to do something and they did it. Or they didn't do it, and then God sent someone to tell them where they had gone wrong, what the consequences would be, and how to get back on the right path. It doesn't seem like God left very much up to them other than the simple choice of whether or not to obey. And yes, that makes me jealous. And a little confused. Because where does that leave me?
Many times I feel like God is not so clear these days. It feels like he leaves a lot up to me. Many choices of what to do with my time, all good things and here I am, the optimizer, trying to make the best choice and feeling like maybe none of them are quite good enough. Sometimes it seems like He directs clearly in one way but then opens another, unexpected door and I wonder, is this a test? A distraction to be ignored? Or a God-given opportunity to be taken? What if I make the wrong choice? Who will come to me and say, "This is where you went wrong, this is what God wants you to be doing instead." Yes, sometimes God is very clear and I am thankful for His leading but so often I say to Him, "Just tell me what you want and I'll do it! Don't give me a choice, just tell me!" Because if I have a choice, I might make the wrong choice (i.e. not the best choice). And what then?
In times like these I am comforted by Peter. Dear, explosive, bumbling Peter the shaky Rock. He had such brilliant moments of clarity ("You are the Christ") followed by such grievously mistaken thinking ("Get behind me, Satan!"). He so passionately followed his Lord and yet his passion was so often misdirected. He jumped in all ready for action and said the wrong thing just because, "he did not know what to say" (Mark 9:6). He completely botched one of the biggest tests of all, denying his friend and Lord on the night He needed him most. He made a lot of wrong choices. He made a lot of mistakes. And yet God still graciously and powerfully worked through him to establish and lead His church. Honestly, sometimes I look at Peter and think, "God, why did you pick him??" But then I realize, oh yes, if you picked someone like him to lead your church, surely you can use me. With all my flaws. Even if I make the wrong choice sometimes. Even if I don't make the best choice sometimes. (And yes, those are two very different things.)
Not that I would turn down an audible voice or writing on the wall, either.
Many times I feel like God is not so clear these days. It feels like he leaves a lot up to me. Many choices of what to do with my time, all good things and here I am, the optimizer, trying to make the best choice and feeling like maybe none of them are quite good enough. Sometimes it seems like He directs clearly in one way but then opens another, unexpected door and I wonder, is this a test? A distraction to be ignored? Or a God-given opportunity to be taken? What if I make the wrong choice? Who will come to me and say, "This is where you went wrong, this is what God wants you to be doing instead." Yes, sometimes God is very clear and I am thankful for His leading but so often I say to Him, "Just tell me what you want and I'll do it! Don't give me a choice, just tell me!" Because if I have a choice, I might make the wrong choice (i.e. not the best choice). And what then?
In times like these I am comforted by Peter. Dear, explosive, bumbling Peter the shaky Rock. He had such brilliant moments of clarity ("You are the Christ") followed by such grievously mistaken thinking ("Get behind me, Satan!"). He so passionately followed his Lord and yet his passion was so often misdirected. He jumped in all ready for action and said the wrong thing just because, "he did not know what to say" (Mark 9:6). He completely botched one of the biggest tests of all, denying his friend and Lord on the night He needed him most. He made a lot of wrong choices. He made a lot of mistakes. And yet God still graciously and powerfully worked through him to establish and lead His church. Honestly, sometimes I look at Peter and think, "God, why did you pick him??" But then I realize, oh yes, if you picked someone like him to lead your church, surely you can use me. With all my flaws. Even if I make the wrong choice sometimes. Even if I don't make the best choice sometimes. (And yes, those are two very different things.)
Not that I would turn down an audible voice or writing on the wall, either.
June 21, 2011
Blessed by a Stranger
Tonight I was immeasurably blessed by a complete stranger. I still have no idea who this person is. I have heard of things like this happening, but never experienced anything remotely like this myself.
Clara and I had a fun, but long day. We went strawberry picking with friends this morning, I dealt with our friends' "energetic" horse and taught 3 lessons while Clara talked away in the pack'n'play instead of napping, we took a long way home and eventually found the house I was looking for where we picked up some fresh local honey (that was sitting in front of the garage door, where I left a check in an envelope taped to the door - love the country!). Thirty minutes after we got home, Luke left to go help our friend stack hay for our horses.
Due to the non-napping, Clara went to bed early. Just before 6:30 I came out of her room and heard a car being started in my driveway! Strange, since Luke was gone. I had left my keys in my car when we got home and, although I wasn't exactly worried, I rushed to the front door just in time to see a small, unfamiliar silver car pull out of our driveway and drive away. Strange, I thought, although not too strange as people often turn around in our driveway. Then, as I turned around to come back inside, I happened to look down. There on the step was this:
The note reads: "Hi! :) I see you outside with your child - saw you one day planting and her right by your side. Saw this and thought it fit you even though I do not know you. I am just a neighbor happy to see someone making a difference. :)"
Wow! I am still blown away by the kindness and thoughtfulness of this person who took notice and sought to encourage a complete stranger. I only wish I knew who he or she was so I could thank them in person! But this public thanks will have to do for now.
I absolutely love my job as a mom and value my role as a mother. But sometimes I do wonder, couldn't I be doing more? More for others? More for God? God seems to be answering me lately in very specific ways. Last week there was this post from another mom I love to read, writing about a young girl whose story has inspired me but also sometimes caused me to wonder if I am giving enough, living enough of a poured out life and shouldn't I be doing what she is doing and my heart aches for brown faces and my birth soil. This week there were two posts: here and here on the importance of motherhood, pouring into the children we've been given and seeing what God sees in them.
And then, today, this. A stranger saw and took notice. How much more does my God see and take notice? Of the moments I didn't raise my voice, the million and one repetitions of Clifford or Pooh Bear, the dishes, the laundry, the snuggles with a cranky toddler who is caught somewhere between clinging tight and pushing away. The small things. The life that sometimes feels small yet still overwhelming.
Thank you, Father. I am listening.
Clara and I had a fun, but long day. We went strawberry picking with friends this morning, I dealt with our friends' "energetic" horse and taught 3 lessons while Clara talked away in the pack'n'play instead of napping, we took a long way home and eventually found the house I was looking for where we picked up some fresh local honey (that was sitting in front of the garage door, where I left a check in an envelope taped to the door - love the country!). Thirty minutes after we got home, Luke left to go help our friend stack hay for our horses.
Due to the non-napping, Clara went to bed early. Just before 6:30 I came out of her room and heard a car being started in my driveway! Strange, since Luke was gone. I had left my keys in my car when we got home and, although I wasn't exactly worried, I rushed to the front door just in time to see a small, unfamiliar silver car pull out of our driveway and drive away. Strange, I thought, although not too strange as people often turn around in our driveway. Then, as I turned around to come back inside, I happened to look down. There on the step was this:
The note reads: "Hi! :) I see you outside with your child - saw you one day planting and her right by your side. Saw this and thought it fit you even though I do not know you. I am just a neighbor happy to see someone making a difference. :)"
Wow! I am still blown away by the kindness and thoughtfulness of this person who took notice and sought to encourage a complete stranger. I only wish I knew who he or she was so I could thank them in person! But this public thanks will have to do for now.
I absolutely love my job as a mom and value my role as a mother. But sometimes I do wonder, couldn't I be doing more? More for others? More for God? God seems to be answering me lately in very specific ways. Last week there was this post from another mom I love to read, writing about a young girl whose story has inspired me but also sometimes caused me to wonder if I am giving enough, living enough of a poured out life and shouldn't I be doing what she is doing and my heart aches for brown faces and my birth soil. This week there were two posts: here and here on the importance of motherhood, pouring into the children we've been given and seeing what God sees in them.
And then, today, this. A stranger saw and took notice. How much more does my God see and take notice? Of the moments I didn't raise my voice, the million and one repetitions of Clifford or Pooh Bear, the dishes, the laundry, the snuggles with a cranky toddler who is caught somewhere between clinging tight and pushing away. The small things. The life that sometimes feels small yet still overwhelming.
Thank you, Father. I am listening.
June 20, 2011
No Neutral
This phrase defines my life right now: "...there are no neutral moments in a young child’s life..."
As I was contemplating this morning what it is about parenting that has become so much more challenging since my sweet, cherubic baby became a toddler, this is the phrase I was searching for. When I read it in the article, I knew. That's it! My daughter no longer has a "neutral." It is either full steam ahead or burning rubber in reverse (I know, mixing metaphors). It is, "Dress! Skirt! Dress! Skirt! .... Dress. .... NO, SKIRT!!!" She is shaking hysterically with laughter one moment and bawling in dejection the next. She goes from, "Get DOWN!" to "Come 'ere, Mama," from "All by SELF!" to "Maaamaaa, help youuuuu" and back again in a matter of milliseconds.
I have heard this described as the toddler's search for independence. But it seems to be not so much about independence itself as about the conflict between desiring autonomy and fearing desertion, craving space but needing closeness. Perhaps this tug-of-war between freedom and stability is in sharper relief because our dear friends' oldest daughter just graduated from high school and I see the same conflict in her as she prepares to leave for college. Needing to assert herself but still wanting approval, love and acceptance. Seeking to discover and define herself apart from her family but still needing to feel connected, rooted, safe.
When I take the time to think about my daughter's tantrums and dizzying mood swings in this light, I am able to feel more compassion, less frustration. More understanding, less confusion. I see so much of myself in her. "Thanks God, but I can handle this one..... oh, wait! God?? A little help please?" "Let's choose that option. Ooooor, this one? No, that one. Okay, yes, this one's better. ...or is it that one?" It makes me wonder, does God get tired of my antics? There are so many ways this parallel applies to my life, I certainly don't have time or space to contemplate them all here. But one of the things I am learning from my little girl's constant flow of extreme emotions is the importance of creating a neutral. With her we are working on taking deep breaths and using our words to communicate. In my own life I am working on creating spaces and times to pause, let the Holy Spirit breathe through me and allow God's Word to communicate to me. I hope to teach my daughter this as well. To give her a "neutral" - a place she can always come back to and rest. A Person she can always rest in, even in that distant but all-too-near future when she is no longer in my home and I am not there to look her in the eyes, hold her close and whisper, "Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Just breathe."
As I was contemplating this morning what it is about parenting that has become so much more challenging since my sweet, cherubic baby became a toddler, this is the phrase I was searching for. When I read it in the article, I knew. That's it! My daughter no longer has a "neutral." It is either full steam ahead or burning rubber in reverse (I know, mixing metaphors). It is, "Dress! Skirt! Dress! Skirt! .... Dress. .... NO, SKIRT!!!" She is shaking hysterically with laughter one moment and bawling in dejection the next. She goes from, "Get DOWN!" to "Come 'ere, Mama," from "All by SELF!" to "Maaamaaa, help youuuuu" and back again in a matter of milliseconds.
I have heard this described as the toddler's search for independence. But it seems to be not so much about independence itself as about the conflict between desiring autonomy and fearing desertion, craving space but needing closeness. Perhaps this tug-of-war between freedom and stability is in sharper relief because our dear friends' oldest daughter just graduated from high school and I see the same conflict in her as she prepares to leave for college. Needing to assert herself but still wanting approval, love and acceptance. Seeking to discover and define herself apart from her family but still needing to feel connected, rooted, safe.
When I take the time to think about my daughter's tantrums and dizzying mood swings in this light, I am able to feel more compassion, less frustration. More understanding, less confusion. I see so much of myself in her. "Thanks God, but I can handle this one..... oh, wait! God?? A little help please?" "Let's choose that option. Ooooor, this one? No, that one. Okay, yes, this one's better. ...or is it that one?" It makes me wonder, does God get tired of my antics? There are so many ways this parallel applies to my life, I certainly don't have time or space to contemplate them all here. But one of the things I am learning from my little girl's constant flow of extreme emotions is the importance of creating a neutral. With her we are working on taking deep breaths and using our words to communicate. In my own life I am working on creating spaces and times to pause, let the Holy Spirit breathe through me and allow God's Word to communicate to me. I hope to teach my daughter this as well. To give her a "neutral" - a place she can always come back to and rest. A Person she can always rest in, even in that distant but all-too-near future when she is no longer in my home and I am not there to look her in the eyes, hold her close and whisper, "Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Just breathe."
June 10, 2011
Favorite Moments
Clara (while squatting next to Daddy's boots, which she had just helped him polish. Said in a loving tone): Shiny, shiny... so shiny...... Hello, Shiny!
In the car tonight on the way home from a friend's graduation:
Clara: I see Sadie Mae! (said in a high voice - what we usually say when we get home) ... Where ARE you Sadie Mae? (holding her blankie up over her face) Hiding!
... Mommy, like some cheese.
Me: I don't have any cheese, Clara, you ate it all.
Clara: Mommy, like some cheese.
Me: You ate all the cheese, Clara, I don't have any.
Clara: Please, Mommy, like some cheese!
Me: Clara, the cheese is all gone. I don't have any more cheese.
(a pause)
Clara: Mommy, like some... cornbread! (Don't know where she got this from, we haven't had cornbread in quite awhile!)
Me (trying to hold back laughter): I don't have any cornbread, sweetie. All the food is at home.
Clara: Mama get some OATmeal ready!
... later, while talking about going to her friends' house tomorrow:
Clara: Bankie come us.
Me: Yes, blankie can come with us.
Clara: Pay ou-side fends!
Me: Yes! You can play outside with your friends.
Clara: Bankie pay ou-side us.
Me: No, blankies are just for inside.
Luke: Blankies are for catching sleep with... (in an undertone) kind of like for catching bats.
Clara: Catch bats! Catch bats bankie! Daddy catch bats bankie!
Luke: Maybe tomorrow, honey. Maybe Daddy will rope a bat tomorrow. Would you like that?
Clara: Uh huh! Daddy rope bat to-mah-woah.
When she sees anything she wants: "CA-ra (how she says her name) may have some!"
In the car tonight on the way home from a friend's graduation:
Clara: I see Sadie Mae! (said in a high voice - what we usually say when we get home) ... Where ARE you Sadie Mae? (holding her blankie up over her face) Hiding!
... Mommy, like some cheese.
Me: I don't have any cheese, Clara, you ate it all.
Clara: Mommy, like some cheese.
Me: You ate all the cheese, Clara, I don't have any.
Clara: Please, Mommy, like some cheese!
Me: Clara, the cheese is all gone. I don't have any more cheese.
(a pause)
Clara: Mommy, like some... cornbread! (Don't know where she got this from, we haven't had cornbread in quite awhile!)
Me (trying to hold back laughter): I don't have any cornbread, sweetie. All the food is at home.
Clara: Mama get some OATmeal ready!
... later, while talking about going to her friends' house tomorrow:
Clara: Bankie come us.
Me: Yes, blankie can come with us.
Clara: Pay ou-side fends!
Me: Yes! You can play outside with your friends.
Clara: Bankie pay ou-side us.
Me: No, blankies are just for inside.
Luke: Blankies are for catching sleep with... (in an undertone) kind of like for catching bats.
Clara: Catch bats! Catch bats bankie! Daddy catch bats bankie!
Luke: Maybe tomorrow, honey. Maybe Daddy will rope a bat tomorrow. Would you like that?
Clara: Uh huh! Daddy rope bat to-mah-woah.
When she sees anything she wants: "CA-ra (how she says her name) may have some!"
April 28, 2011
Then and Now
I took a picture of Clara today and felt a moment of deja vu. Sure enough, I took a very similar picture last summer! Here they are - on the left she is 10 months and on the right she is just shy of 20 months.
I can't believe both how different she is and how the same. I knew she had grown, but seeing where the couch hit her before and where it does today was a shocker! Also, she has 100 times more hair than she did. :) Interestingly enough, though her body shape is totally different, the diaper cover is on the exact same settings - her waist and rise haven't changed much, although her inseam certainly has!
My baby girl is getting so grown up, which is both wonderful and heartbreaking.
April 25, 2011
April 14, 2011
Our garden is coming to life!
Slowly but surely, spring is coming and our garden for the summer is beginning to take shape. This year, I am nearly tripling the size of last year's garden. It's a big project, but SO exciting! Our new bed runs the entire length of our front yard, next to the road. A somewhat unlikely spot for a garden, but it gets the most sun of anywhere and we want to put a fence there eventually, so we decided to go with a "green fence" for now.
The bed is 3' x 70' - a lot of space! We started by clearing the sod off the sunniest half, which is where our tomatoes will go. I cut the sod into strips with the shovel while Luke and Clara started pulling it up (finding lots of worms along the way!).
The bed is 3' x 70' - a lot of space! We started by clearing the sod off the sunniest half, which is where our tomatoes will go. I cut the sod into strips with the shovel while Luke and Clara started pulling it up (finding lots of worms along the way!).
By the end of day one, we hadn't gotten very far - about 10 ft. But all the sod was cut, which was a time-consuming task.
Clara and I put in some more hard work on sunny days here and there and got the top half of the bed completely cleared of sod!
It was a big job and I was ready to be done with clearing. Another 105 square feet did not sound like a good idea. I had been toying with the idea of lasagna gardening and decided to give it a shot for the second half of the bed. Since we are starting mid-spring and don't have lots of time to gather materials, our layers will not be as thick as they should be but that's okay - we'll just add more this fall! Today, Clara and I layered the bottom 24 ft. of the bed with newspaper, ashes, half-composted leaves from last fall, and a topsoil/compost mix so that we can plant right into it, hopefully tomorrow!
We have about 12' of grass left to cover tomorrow and then we will start planting! Peas will go in first in the lasagna half of the garden. I'll plant some tomorrow and some in a couple of weeks. I'm also planning to put lettuce and maybe some other green leafies there. Tomatoes and probably some basil will go in the top half of the bed. Our backyard garden, which doesn't get as much sun, will house lots of bush-type green beans (which flourished there last year), while the side garden will have butternut squash and cucumbers. I'm hoping to add in a few other plants as well, we'll see how the season goes!
Also, my daffodils were so close to blooming today. I can't wait to see them tomorrow!
March 29, 2011
The Elizabeth Legacy
An online forum I am part of recently had a discussion on where our children's names come from. It reminded me of this precious letter which my grandmother sent to us almost 2 years ago, after our ultrasound confirmed Clara was a girl and we announced her name to our families. I knew the name Elizabeth had been in our family for a long time, but didn't know the specifics and it was so sweet to learn more about the Elizabeth ancestors. A few of my clarifications are in un-italicized parentheses.
April 3, 2009
Dear Erin and Luke,
I am honored and happy that my first great grandchild, a great grand-daughter, will have Elizabeth as one of her given names. Thank you for choosing that name and continuing a family tradition which dates back many, many years.
You already know much about the women in the family whose name includes Elizabeth: Erin Elizabeth Pinckney Olson (me!), Frances Elizabeth DuBose Pinckney (my mother), and Elizabeth Anne Craig DuBose (my grandmother, the writer of this letter). I wanted to share with you some personal memories and other information I have about my grandmother and baby (Clara) Elizabeth's great, great, great grandmother, Leah Elizabeth Rochester Craig.
Leah Elizabeth was born August 10, 1866, and died May 8, 1944. Her parents were Hollis D. Rochester, 1833-1899, and Esther Burns Rochester, 1844-1885. The name, Elizabeth, goes back even farther to Leah Elizabeth's grandmother, Elizabeth Boyd Whitten Rochester, 1814-1882, who married Jonathan Rochester, 1808-1870. This Elizabeth would be baby (Clara) Elizabeth's great, great, great, great, great grandmother. There are other Elizabeth ancestors who lived before 1814, so I think it is appropriate to say that this name has been on our family tree for well over 200 years.
Erin, several years ago you and your family visited Craig Hill. You will remember the house and grounds, but much has changed about the farm and surroundings since Leah Elizabeth lived there and I visited her there.
When I knew Grandma she owned a large farm called Craig Hill in the Lebanon community of Anderson County, South Carolina. I never knew her husband and my grandfather, David Jesse Miller Craig, 1855-1924. Following his death in 1924, Grandma became the highly respected matriarch of the Craig family for 20 years.
While I was not quite 12 years old when my Grandma died, I have fond memories of summertime visits with her on the farm. It was a long, hot, two-day ride from Oklahoma to South Carolina, but we went there each summer for a visit. Grandma came to Oklahoma soon after I was born, but I don't think she made other visits to see us there.
When at Grandma's house, we feasted on vegetables from her plentiful garden, hot biscuits or cornbread with freshly churned butter, fried chicken and other dishes she cooked on or in the woodstove she fired up each morning, even in the hot summertime with no air conditioning. We drank whole milk with lots of cream on top from the cows she raised and used a dipper for drinking cold water brought up in a bucket from the well in the front yard. When not preparing a meal, Grandma usually had big pots on the wood stove, filled with boiling water and the jars of vegetables she was canning.
Grandma kept food that needed to be kept cold in an ice box which held a huge block of ice. She kept potatoes, onions, and other vegetables and cured meat cool in the cellar under the house. There were no indoor bathroom facilities, but each bedroom had a beautiful porcelain pitcher and wash basin for bathing. We used the outhouse when necessary or the chamber pot at night.
It goes without saying that there were no televisions, computers, or electronic games. We created our own activities and entertainment. With my two cousins who lived on the farm and my brother, Roy, we had fun riding in the wagon on the dusty back-country roads, riding on the tractor in the fields, swimming in the pond which was also used for watering the livestock, and playing for hours in the hayloft in the barn. We set up a stand in the front yard to sell watermelons and cantaloupes grown on the farm. There were always lots of dogs and cats to play with and we were excited to gather eggs in the hen house each day.
Grandma was a very hospitable person. Her big house, with its front porch, was the gathering place for many friends and family members. I remember especially Sunday afternoons when many gathered on her front porch to visit and enjoy the lemonade or iced tea she served to everyone. She also provided a hot meal at noon each day to lots of workers on the farm who promptly came in from the fields of cotton and tobacco when they heard the big bell on the back porch.
Grandma was a pillar and faithful member of the Mt. Zion Presbyterian Church in Sandy Springs, SC. She was a charter member of Mt. Zion's first Missionary Society, organized on April 16, 1914. The Centennial Celebration for Mt. Zion (organized in 1832) was held on August 20-21, 1932. Grandma was a member of the group in charge of arrangements for this event. Her two sons who were ministers, Roy Rochester Craig (my father) and Augustus Rochester Craig (Uncle Gus), sometimes preached at Mt. Zion when they were there or held revival services during the week. My father, Roy, was a minister in Oklahoma for many years and Uncle Gus was a missionary in China. Grandma's oldest son, Marcus (Uncle Mark), was ordained and installed as an elder at Mt. Zion Church in 1920 and was the efficient Clerk of Session for 33 years. In 1982, he was honored as Elder Emeritus.
Many Craig relatives are buried in the cemetery behind Mt. Zion Church, including Grandma and my grandfather and two of their sons, Roy Craig and his wife, Lila Young Amis Craig (my parents) and Marcus Craig and his wife, Nellie Eskew Craig.
Grandma believed in the value of education. She attended Williamston Female College in Williamston, South Carolina. There are several receipts for her tuition, one of which indicates that her father paid $30.00 for her tuition for the fall session, 1882. Grandma's school papers, a few of which I have, contain her beautiful handwriting, eloquent language, and inspired thinking. In one paper titled A Good Cause makes a Stout Heart she wrote, "A man is not born with courage; for it is acquired and then it becomes a natural quality. Courage may be displayed on any occasion if attended by any danger whatever, but it requires the most dangerous and difficult actions to prove real and true courage." She continues, "A mind that is conscious of a just and good cause is not ashamed to face the whole world."
In keeping with Grandma's commitment to education, two of her sons (Roy and Gus) graduated from Davidson College in Davidson, North Carolina, and Union Theological Seminary in Richmond, Virginia. One son (mark) graduated from Clemson College with a keen interested in entomology and used his education in agriculture to successfully continue the operation of the Craig farm until his death.
I remember Grandma as a quiet, gracious, industrious, rather plain-looking woman. Roy, my father (1900-1975) and the youngest of her sons, was the one whose disposition and facial features most closely mirrored his mother's. Grandma always seemed calm and at ease amidst a house full of people. She moved efficiently, but without hurrying and she spoke gently, but with authority. She seemed to live her beliefs, but not to thrust them on others. She was a kind, caring, thoughtful woman; a loving, trusting, supportive mother; an astute, knowledgeable, resourceful business woman; and a faithful, involved, committed member of Mt. Zion Presbyterian Church.
In addition to Grandma's son, Marcus, his wife, and their two children, my grandfather's old-maid sister, Kate, lived with Grandma on the farm until her death. With three generations and three women living under the same roof, Grandma was the glue that cemented harmonious family relationships. She managed a large, productive farm with many workers whose families lived in houses on the farm. Matt and Sudie, an old, frail, black couple lived a short distance from Grandma's house and we always enjoyed walking to their house for little visits with them. Grandma cared for them as family and they loved her dearly.
Grandma maintained an active role in the life of Mt. Zion Presbyterian Church and the Lebanon community. Most of all, she raised three sons whose lives touched countless people for good in Oklahoma, China, and the Carolinas. One of her sons was my father and the person who has had the greatest influence on my life. He lived 43 years after I was born and was especially happy in September, 1975, the month and year he died, that his granddaughter had recently become a student at Davidson College. He was always so very proud of her, but didn't live to see her graduate from his alma mater or become a wife and mother of six children.
We hope that during the next few months baby (Clara) Elizabeth's growth and development will progress well and that both of you will experience the joy of her birth and your new role as parents. We're looking forward to seeing pictures of baby (Clara) Elizabeth and, hopefully, to seeing her in person as soon as possible after her birth.
I'm enclosing four pictures of Grandma and other family members. While these are very old photographs, they will give you an idea of what Leah Elizabeth looked like as an older adult and what Elizabeth Anne looked like as a small child.
Love Always,
Mamaliz
(I will attempt to scan these photographs into my computer within the next few days but am not sure how the quality will turn out, as they are very old and somewhat fuzzy already. However, I'll do my best!)
April 3, 2009
Dear Erin and Luke,
I am honored and happy that my first great grandchild, a great grand-daughter, will have Elizabeth as one of her given names. Thank you for choosing that name and continuing a family tradition which dates back many, many years.
You already know much about the women in the family whose name includes Elizabeth: Erin Elizabeth Pinckney Olson (me!), Frances Elizabeth DuBose Pinckney (my mother), and Elizabeth Anne Craig DuBose (my grandmother, the writer of this letter). I wanted to share with you some personal memories and other information I have about my grandmother and baby (Clara) Elizabeth's great, great, great grandmother, Leah Elizabeth Rochester Craig.
Leah Elizabeth was born August 10, 1866, and died May 8, 1944. Her parents were Hollis D. Rochester, 1833-1899, and Esther Burns Rochester, 1844-1885. The name, Elizabeth, goes back even farther to Leah Elizabeth's grandmother, Elizabeth Boyd Whitten Rochester, 1814-1882, who married Jonathan Rochester, 1808-1870. This Elizabeth would be baby (Clara) Elizabeth's great, great, great, great, great grandmother. There are other Elizabeth ancestors who lived before 1814, so I think it is appropriate to say that this name has been on our family tree for well over 200 years.
Erin, several years ago you and your family visited Craig Hill. You will remember the house and grounds, but much has changed about the farm and surroundings since Leah Elizabeth lived there and I visited her there.
When I knew Grandma she owned a large farm called Craig Hill in the Lebanon community of Anderson County, South Carolina. I never knew her husband and my grandfather, David Jesse Miller Craig, 1855-1924. Following his death in 1924, Grandma became the highly respected matriarch of the Craig family for 20 years.
While I was not quite 12 years old when my Grandma died, I have fond memories of summertime visits with her on the farm. It was a long, hot, two-day ride from Oklahoma to South Carolina, but we went there each summer for a visit. Grandma came to Oklahoma soon after I was born, but I don't think she made other visits to see us there.
When at Grandma's house, we feasted on vegetables from her plentiful garden, hot biscuits or cornbread with freshly churned butter, fried chicken and other dishes she cooked on or in the woodstove she fired up each morning, even in the hot summertime with no air conditioning. We drank whole milk with lots of cream on top from the cows she raised and used a dipper for drinking cold water brought up in a bucket from the well in the front yard. When not preparing a meal, Grandma usually had big pots on the wood stove, filled with boiling water and the jars of vegetables she was canning.
Grandma kept food that needed to be kept cold in an ice box which held a huge block of ice. She kept potatoes, onions, and other vegetables and cured meat cool in the cellar under the house. There were no indoor bathroom facilities, but each bedroom had a beautiful porcelain pitcher and wash basin for bathing. We used the outhouse when necessary or the chamber pot at night.
It goes without saying that there were no televisions, computers, or electronic games. We created our own activities and entertainment. With my two cousins who lived on the farm and my brother, Roy, we had fun riding in the wagon on the dusty back-country roads, riding on the tractor in the fields, swimming in the pond which was also used for watering the livestock, and playing for hours in the hayloft in the barn. We set up a stand in the front yard to sell watermelons and cantaloupes grown on the farm. There were always lots of dogs and cats to play with and we were excited to gather eggs in the hen house each day.
Grandma was a very hospitable person. Her big house, with its front porch, was the gathering place for many friends and family members. I remember especially Sunday afternoons when many gathered on her front porch to visit and enjoy the lemonade or iced tea she served to everyone. She also provided a hot meal at noon each day to lots of workers on the farm who promptly came in from the fields of cotton and tobacco when they heard the big bell on the back porch.
Grandma was a pillar and faithful member of the Mt. Zion Presbyterian Church in Sandy Springs, SC. She was a charter member of Mt. Zion's first Missionary Society, organized on April 16, 1914. The Centennial Celebration for Mt. Zion (organized in 1832) was held on August 20-21, 1932. Grandma was a member of the group in charge of arrangements for this event. Her two sons who were ministers, Roy Rochester Craig (my father) and Augustus Rochester Craig (Uncle Gus), sometimes preached at Mt. Zion when they were there or held revival services during the week. My father, Roy, was a minister in Oklahoma for many years and Uncle Gus was a missionary in China. Grandma's oldest son, Marcus (Uncle Mark), was ordained and installed as an elder at Mt. Zion Church in 1920 and was the efficient Clerk of Session for 33 years. In 1982, he was honored as Elder Emeritus.
Many Craig relatives are buried in the cemetery behind Mt. Zion Church, including Grandma and my grandfather and two of their sons, Roy Craig and his wife, Lila Young Amis Craig (my parents) and Marcus Craig and his wife, Nellie Eskew Craig.
Grandma believed in the value of education. She attended Williamston Female College in Williamston, South Carolina. There are several receipts for her tuition, one of which indicates that her father paid $30.00 for her tuition for the fall session, 1882. Grandma's school papers, a few of which I have, contain her beautiful handwriting, eloquent language, and inspired thinking. In one paper titled A Good Cause makes a Stout Heart she wrote, "A man is not born with courage; for it is acquired and then it becomes a natural quality. Courage may be displayed on any occasion if attended by any danger whatever, but it requires the most dangerous and difficult actions to prove real and true courage." She continues, "A mind that is conscious of a just and good cause is not ashamed to face the whole world."
In keeping with Grandma's commitment to education, two of her sons (Roy and Gus) graduated from Davidson College in Davidson, North Carolina, and Union Theological Seminary in Richmond, Virginia. One son (mark) graduated from Clemson College with a keen interested in entomology and used his education in agriculture to successfully continue the operation of the Craig farm until his death.
I remember Grandma as a quiet, gracious, industrious, rather plain-looking woman. Roy, my father (1900-1975) and the youngest of her sons, was the one whose disposition and facial features most closely mirrored his mother's. Grandma always seemed calm and at ease amidst a house full of people. She moved efficiently, but without hurrying and she spoke gently, but with authority. She seemed to live her beliefs, but not to thrust them on others. She was a kind, caring, thoughtful woman; a loving, trusting, supportive mother; an astute, knowledgeable, resourceful business woman; and a faithful, involved, committed member of Mt. Zion Presbyterian Church.
In addition to Grandma's son, Marcus, his wife, and their two children, my grandfather's old-maid sister, Kate, lived with Grandma on the farm until her death. With three generations and three women living under the same roof, Grandma was the glue that cemented harmonious family relationships. She managed a large, productive farm with many workers whose families lived in houses on the farm. Matt and Sudie, an old, frail, black couple lived a short distance from Grandma's house and we always enjoyed walking to their house for little visits with them. Grandma cared for them as family and they loved her dearly.
Grandma maintained an active role in the life of Mt. Zion Presbyterian Church and the Lebanon community. Most of all, she raised three sons whose lives touched countless people for good in Oklahoma, China, and the Carolinas. One of her sons was my father and the person who has had the greatest influence on my life. He lived 43 years after I was born and was especially happy in September, 1975, the month and year he died, that his granddaughter had recently become a student at Davidson College. He was always so very proud of her, but didn't live to see her graduate from his alma mater or become a wife and mother of six children.
We hope that during the next few months baby (Clara) Elizabeth's growth and development will progress well and that both of you will experience the joy of her birth and your new role as parents. We're looking forward to seeing pictures of baby (Clara) Elizabeth and, hopefully, to seeing her in person as soon as possible after her birth.
I'm enclosing four pictures of Grandma and other family members. While these are very old photographs, they will give you an idea of what Leah Elizabeth looked like as an older adult and what Elizabeth Anne looked like as a small child.
Love Always,
Mamaliz
(I will attempt to scan these photographs into my computer within the next few days but am not sure how the quality will turn out, as they are very old and somewhat fuzzy already. However, I'll do my best!)
March 25, 2011
Hair
Yesterday morning Clara asked for my hairbrush, which is not unusual. When I asked if she was going to brush her hair, she said, "Brush.... LEGS!" Of course I laughed, so of course she said it again. I said, "That's a funny joke! Did you tell a funny joke?"
"Uh huh! Funny joke! Funny joke!"
For the rest of the morning she kept repeating, "Brush legs. Funny joke! Funny joke!" What a little clown!
She has also recently started very gently brushing the hair out of my eyes if I have a strand hanging down or a piece come loose from my ponytail. "Brush Mama hair, eyes." Her soft little hands are oh so gentle as she "fixes" it for me.
She hates having her own hair messed with, but the other day, out of the blue, she was playing with my ponytail and said, "You poe-eee tail!"
"Do you want a ponytail in your hair?"
"Uh HUH!"
And she actually let me put in a little ponytail with one of her rarely-used hair clips! It was oh SO adorable and made her look so much older! She did manage to keep it in for a little while, before getting too curious and pulling it out. Sadly, she hasn't wanted one since.
Maybe some day she will let me play with her hair the way she likes to play with mine. :)
"Uh huh! Funny joke! Funny joke!"
For the rest of the morning she kept repeating, "Brush legs. Funny joke! Funny joke!" What a little clown!
She has also recently started very gently brushing the hair out of my eyes if I have a strand hanging down or a piece come loose from my ponytail. "Brush Mama hair, eyes." Her soft little hands are oh so gentle as she "fixes" it for me.
She hates having her own hair messed with, but the other day, out of the blue, she was playing with my ponytail and said, "You poe-eee tail!"
"Do you want a ponytail in your hair?"
"Uh HUH!"
And she actually let me put in a little ponytail with one of her rarely-used hair clips! It was oh SO adorable and made her look so much older! She did manage to keep it in for a little while, before getting too curious and pulling it out. Sadly, she hasn't wanted one since.
Maybe some day she will let me play with her hair the way she likes to play with mine. :)
Blue Milk!
Clara's favorite color is BLUE! Not that she truly knows her colors, but if you ask her what color something is, her first answer is always, "BthLOO!!" (said with a big smile!)
A couple of days ago while she was nursing after her nap, she looked up at me and said, "BthLOO moji (her current version of "milky")!"
"Blue milky??"
"BthLOO moj!" *self-satisfied chuckle and return to nursing*
"That's so silly! Are you having blue milky?"
"Uh huh!"
She was very proud of herself and because I couldn't help laughing at her she kept pausing and reiterating, "BthLOO moji!" We eventually went through green, orange and purple milky as well, which she thought was a great joke! I always wonder what she's going to come up with next...
A couple of days ago while she was nursing after her nap, she looked up at me and said, "BthLOO moji (her current version of "milky")!"
"Blue milky??"
"BthLOO moj!" *self-satisfied chuckle and return to nursing*
"That's so silly! Are you having blue milky?"
"Uh huh!"
She was very proud of herself and because I couldn't help laughing at her she kept pausing and reiterating, "BthLOO moji!" We eventually went through green, orange and purple milky as well, which she thought was a great joke! I always wonder what she's going to come up with next...
March 24, 2011
A Sleep Talker?
A few times we have heard Clara make unusual noises in her sleep, as if she were trying to say something. A few weeks ago she actually did say something and I remember wondering if she was awake or asleep because it was quite loud and very clear, but I can't for the life of me remember what it was she said!
Last night I went to a gardening talk with a friend from church, so I was gone at bedtime. This is a true rarity in our house - I think someone other than me has put her down for the night only 4 or 5 times total! As we were lying in bed shortly after I returned home, about to fall asleep, we heard a very hi, very sweet and happy-sounding, "Hi, Mama" from Clara's room. It sounded just like when she sees me first thing in the morning and says "Hi" with a big smile.
Talk about melting my heart! It was like she was welcoming me home, happy I was back after being away for bedtime. Love that little girl with all my heart!
Last night I went to a gardening talk with a friend from church, so I was gone at bedtime. This is a true rarity in our house - I think someone other than me has put her down for the night only 4 or 5 times total! As we were lying in bed shortly after I returned home, about to fall asleep, we heard a very hi, very sweet and happy-sounding, "Hi, Mama" from Clara's room. It sounded just like when she sees me first thing in the morning and says "Hi" with a big smile.
Talk about melting my heart! It was like she was welcoming me home, happy I was back after being away for bedtime. Love that little girl with all my heart!
March 21, 2011
A Tender Heart
"Uh huh."
"Is Lamb sad?"
"Uh huh."
"Does Lamb need a hug?"
"Uh HUH!"
She gave me a big cuddle and I asked, "Where is Lamb?" She went running off towards her bedroom and I waited, interested to see who or what she would bring back. She returned a few seconds later, empty-handed. We played a little longer and again she looked at me, "Lamb crying!"
"Can you go find Lamb?"
"Uh huh!"
Again she ran off and returned, a few seconds later, empty-handed. Twice more we went through this little dance and then I asked her, "Do you need help finding Lamb?"
"Uh huh."
Off she ran and I followed her into the kitchen where she stood on her tip toes, trying to open the kitchen door. I asked her, "Where are you going?" Again she said,
"Lamb crying."
Suddenly a light bulb went off in my head. "Liam? Do you mean 'Liam crying'?"
A huge smile spread across her face. "Uh huh! Liam crying!" Again she tried to open the kitchen door. "Find Liam!"
This is where my heart turned into a puddle and my eyes got misty. Liam is a little boy at our Bible study about 6 months younger than Clara. Ever since he was born, she has been fascinated by him. He has a hard time being away from his mama and will often cry in the nursery. It just melted my heart that my sweet little girl thought of Liam, thought he might be crying and wanted to do something to help him. I explained to her that we couldn't go find him today, but we would see him tomorrow and today we could pray for him, that he wouldn't be sad and wouldn't cry. She ran over, crawled into my lap, held my hands and bowed her head solemnly while we prayed for Liam and his family.
It is my constant prayer that she will stay tender-hearted to those she sees who are grieving or in need and that God would give me great wisdom as I seek to nurture her desire to care for others.
March 04, 2011
Showing Off...
I will freely admit that, like mothers everywhere, I think my child is just the best there ever is, was or will be. She is the sweetest, smartest, funniest, cutest little kid anyone could ever ask for. Yes, I realize I am biased. I try to keep my bias in mind when interacting with others. But every now and then, I give in to temptation and show off. I just think Clara is so amazing and I want the whole world to know how wonderful she is!
Case in point: two days ago, we were at the grocery store. As we were checking out, Clara was charming the bagger with her smiles, as usual. As our cashier was scanning items, Clara started naming them, "Milk. Juice. Tortilla!!! (one of her current favorites) Eggs." The cashier and bagger were impressed at how smart she was. I was thoroughly enjoying the fun Clara was having seeing and naming all these foods and I'll admit, I was also enjoying the surprise and admiration of those watching her. I pointed into our cart at a bag already filled with produce and asked, "Clara, what's that?" She turned around and, clear as could be, said, "Kale!"
General amazement ensued. The bagger called over a few other people to tell them, "This little girl knows 'kale'! My daughter is only 4 months younger and all she says is 'mama'!"
I was somewhat amazed myself. We have eaten kale before, but it's hardly a common topic of conversation. This little girl continually astonishes me with what she soaks up from the world around her. Watching a person grow is, hands down, the most incredible thing I have ever witnessed.
I am fully aware that, as penance for my niggle of pride and desire to show off, the next time I ask Clara to name something in front of people, she will stare at me with a blank face as if she's never spoken a word in her life. :)
Case in point: two days ago, we were at the grocery store. As we were checking out, Clara was charming the bagger with her smiles, as usual. As our cashier was scanning items, Clara started naming them, "Milk. Juice. Tortilla!!! (one of her current favorites) Eggs." The cashier and bagger were impressed at how smart she was. I was thoroughly enjoying the fun Clara was having seeing and naming all these foods and I'll admit, I was also enjoying the surprise and admiration of those watching her. I pointed into our cart at a bag already filled with produce and asked, "Clara, what's that?" She turned around and, clear as could be, said, "Kale!"
General amazement ensued. The bagger called over a few other people to tell them, "This little girl knows 'kale'! My daughter is only 4 months younger and all she says is 'mama'!"
I was somewhat amazed myself. We have eaten kale before, but it's hardly a common topic of conversation. This little girl continually astonishes me with what she soaks up from the world around her. Watching a person grow is, hands down, the most incredible thing I have ever witnessed.
I am fully aware that, as penance for my niggle of pride and desire to show off, the next time I ask Clara to name something in front of people, she will stare at me with a blank face as if she's never spoken a word in her life. :)
February 16, 2011
It goes by so fast...
I can't even begin to count how many times I have heard this phrase from people. "Enjoy every minute, it goes by so fast," "They grow up so quickly."
Sometimes the cliches are true.
I want to hit "pause" a million times a day and just soak up the moment, capture the minute details of my little girl - that look she has or the glint in her eye, the way she pronounces a word, the way her hair falls across her face or her excitement when she first wakes up in the morning or from a nap. The way she says, "Hi" every morning and melts my heart, leaves me breathless and misty-eyed.
I want to write down each new word, each new sentence, each new discovery she makes and how it feels to watch her grow and learn and be fascinated by the world around her. I have not done a very good job of this and I often feel guilty when I hear other moms talk about the journals they keep for each of their children. I want everything written down. I want her to know some day how much I loved being her mother, how she is an absolute miracle to me, how her sunshine can brighten even the darkest of my days.
I feel like I will never be able to tell her these things enough. I will not remember every detail. I will forget how much she weighed at each doctor's visit. I will not have a journal filled with each tiny milestone.
But I have spent these moments with her. And some of them I will never forget. Each day is filled with a thousand and one gifts, more precious moments than I can ever count, more joy and laughter and living than I really ever imagined. Maybe that is why it goes by so fast - because it is so full.
It is full with moments like my big girl leaning over and snuggling a friend's six-month-old so tenderly and sweetly, then giggling while imitating the baby's happy kicking.
Reading books together - sometimes her on my lap, sometimes sitting in her own small rocker and wanting me to sit in the big rocker next to her. The ways she notices each detail, finds the tiny mouse on each page, whispers "hush" in all the right places.
The look of shock, pride and excitement on her face when she discovered how to turn the faucet on in the kitchen sink. Her fascination at feeling the difference between very cold water and warmer water (and watching the shivers and gasping as she repeatedly stuck her hand and arm into the icy stream).
Her love for her monkey pajamas, the way we both know the bedtime routine and find comfort and fun in following the same patterns throughout our day.
The way she cuddles in to my arms with her blankie and peacefully nurses - sometimes, all the way to dreamland. Then, her heavy, limp body in my arms, I could sit and listen to her breathe with her head on my shoulder forever, feeling her wispy hair against my cheek and the absolute peacefulness of her repose. Peaceful moments are more rare these days and all the more precious. I do my best to slow down, live each second, treasure them up in my heart.
Sometimes the cliches are true.
I want to hit "pause" a million times a day and just soak up the moment, capture the minute details of my little girl - that look she has or the glint in her eye, the way she pronounces a word, the way her hair falls across her face or her excitement when she first wakes up in the morning or from a nap. The way she says, "Hi" every morning and melts my heart, leaves me breathless and misty-eyed.
I want to write down each new word, each new sentence, each new discovery she makes and how it feels to watch her grow and learn and be fascinated by the world around her. I have not done a very good job of this and I often feel guilty when I hear other moms talk about the journals they keep for each of their children. I want everything written down. I want her to know some day how much I loved being her mother, how she is an absolute miracle to me, how her sunshine can brighten even the darkest of my days.
I feel like I will never be able to tell her these things enough. I will not remember every detail. I will forget how much she weighed at each doctor's visit. I will not have a journal filled with each tiny milestone.
But I have spent these moments with her. And some of them I will never forget. Each day is filled with a thousand and one gifts, more precious moments than I can ever count, more joy and laughter and living than I really ever imagined. Maybe that is why it goes by so fast - because it is so full.
It is full with moments like my big girl leaning over and snuggling a friend's six-month-old so tenderly and sweetly, then giggling while imitating the baby's happy kicking.
Reading books together - sometimes her on my lap, sometimes sitting in her own small rocker and wanting me to sit in the big rocker next to her. The ways she notices each detail, finds the tiny mouse on each page, whispers "hush" in all the right places.
The look of shock, pride and excitement on her face when she discovered how to turn the faucet on in the kitchen sink. Her fascination at feeling the difference between very cold water and warmer water (and watching the shivers and gasping as she repeatedly stuck her hand and arm into the icy stream).
Her love for her monkey pajamas, the way we both know the bedtime routine and find comfort and fun in following the same patterns throughout our day.
The way she cuddles in to my arms with her blankie and peacefully nurses - sometimes, all the way to dreamland. Then, her heavy, limp body in my arms, I could sit and listen to her breathe with her head on my shoulder forever, feeling her wispy hair against my cheek and the absolute peacefulness of her repose. Peaceful moments are more rare these days and all the more precious. I do my best to slow down, live each second, treasure them up in my heart.
February 01, 2011
Snowy Day Fun
Today apparently was the day for our weekly snowstorm. So, for the second time in three weeks, Bible study was canceled and we have been homebound. But, we have had lots of fun so far! We started out the day with some serious college prep reading by the woodstove. ;-) (This is, "The Integration of Psychology and Christianity")
Then we moved on to the even more serious work of motherhood: taking your babies for a walk.
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| One baby... |
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| Two babies... |
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| Switch places! |
After that, it was time for some work in the kitchen. I've been wanting to make play dough for Clara for awhile, and decided to day was the perfect day. My little chef wanna-be loved it! She did try sneaking a couple of bites at first, but was soon convinced that it was, indeed, yucky as Mama had warned her. (No worries though, it was just flour, water, cream of tarter, lots of salt and a little oil and food coloring. Love homemade since I know exactly what's in it!)
Next, some personal grooming. Although in reality Clara hates having her nails clipped, pretending to clip them herself is tons of fun! She did this for 15-20 minutes, saying "clip, clip" the whole time!
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| Trimming those toenails... |
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| Already multitasking ;) |
Then it was time for a yummy lunch of peanut butter balls, carrot-raisin-flax muffin and more grapes than I can imagine fitting in her stomach! Now she's down for a nap and I am folding laundry and working on an apple pie. Mmm...
What are your favorite snowy (or otherwise inclement weather) day activities?
January 20, 2011
My little scientist...
... found a little stink bug crawling in the kitchen this afternoon, and was fascinated!
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| Look Mama! |
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| Had to get closer... |
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| ... moving on to push ups? Not quite sure. :) |
She watched it for a bit, then tried to "sweep" it away with her hand. When it flipped over and started crawling again she touched it and looked at me. I told her she could pick it up and so she did, and was fascinated when it started crawling on her hand!
I figure it's never to early to start science class, huh?! It's so fun watching Clara's curiosity and fascination with the world around her grow as she notices things in more and more detail.
For Anna...
... here's the video of Clara playing hide and seek with her Daddy (with an extra one as well!). :)
January 13, 2011
What Mama has been up to...
A few things I've been up to since we've been home:
Making Clara some new fleece pants (notice the swirly bum!)...
and a diaper cover for the summer (yep, I'm a little obsessed with the swirl - I tell you, in person it's WAY too cute!):
Adding a ziploc bag holder (to reuse bags from leftovers, Luke's lunches, etc) and a curtain to cover my ugly spice rack to the kitchen counter (the fabric is from Cameroon and matches the trim on my kitchen curtains):
And doing my best to keep up with this little one (who tries to grab the camera at ever opportunity)!
January 12, 2011
What we have been up to lately...
During the holidays we had a lot of fun traveling to see family and generally staying very busy. My perfectionist tendencies have kept me from blogging because I want to go back, catch up, write about everything and do it right. But I know that if I wait for that to happen I'll never write again. So here I go, jumping in where we are. It seems that Clara woke up on January 3rd and decided she was a toddler! Here's a bit of what we've been up to since we returned home from our holiday trip on Jan. 2nd:
She's a busy little girl and keeps us on our toes!
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| Unpacking from our trip |
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| Trying Mama's boots on for size |
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| Discovering the joys of toilet paper |
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| Can you find the baby? |
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| Here she is, a ghost! |
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| She loves the new pants Mama made her |
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| Stealing Mama's camera and taking pictures is always fun... |
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| Wearing clothes is overrated, but aprons are the best! |
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| We've had tea parties every day since we've been back |
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| Already multi-tasking: helping Mama fold diapers while watching cars and drinking tea! |
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| Lots and lots of baking. She always wants to help! |
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| Some fun in the snow... |
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| And from today, wearing Mama's sweatshirt... |
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| ...and Daddy's hat! |
She's a busy little girl and keeps us on our toes!
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