“What’re you doooooooin, Mama?”
“I’m cooking supper, what are you doing, Micah?”
Two seconds pass.
“What’re you doooooooin, Mama?”
“Still cooking supper. What about you?”
Three seconds pass.
“What’re you doooooooin, Mama?”
A couple of weeks ago, Micah and I had that conversation 500 times a day. Literally. If I sat down, she asked. If I stood up, she asked. If I put my shoes on, she asked. If I brushed my hair, she asked. If I picked up a book, she asked.
The questioning was constant and drove me up the wall.
Now she’s moved on. She only asks me two or three times a day, but we’ve taken up another conversation in its stead.
“Somebody’s hidin’ in my woom, Mama.”
“Who’s in your room, baby?”
“A mon-ter’s in my woom.”
“There’s not a monster in your room, Micah.”
Pauses for two seconds.
“Somebody’s hidin’ in my woom, Mama.”
This conversation ensues every. single. time I ask Micah to take something to her room. The first time we had it, it made me grin. The 689th time we had it, I wanted to bang my head against the wall.
In case you can’t tell, her conversational skills are growing, even if she sounds like a broken record at times. She’s at such a fun age. Every time I turn around, it seems she’s learning something new. My jaw dropped the first time she pointed at a stop sign and told me that it was an ot-ta-gon, but really, I shouldn’t have been surprised. I’ve been pointing at the octagon in her Elmo lift-the-flap book for months.
If you ask her name, she’ll answer Micah Joooones. We started working on my and Dennis’ names too, just in case someone asks her who her parents are. I didn’t have much hope in teaching her my name, but she’s getting there. If you ask her my name, she’ll say Essie Ann Joooones. Poor Dennis is left out. She knows his name but refuses to say it most of the time. To her, he’s Daddy Joooones.
She loves to eat and has an appetite like her mama. There’s not much that she turns down, and it’s funny to me that if there’s broccoli on her plate, she’ll eat it before anything else. She also loves Mexican food. Girl after my own heart. And breakfast. Also one of my favorites. Sometimes she eats more than I do, which is saying something. The girl can pack it away.
She’s fascinated with the idea of being a big sister, and she insists that the new baby is a girl. Poor thing will be disappointed if Peanut turns out to be a boy. She likes to lift my shirt and look at my belly, and every now and then, she’ll talk to the baby. Melts my heart.
She’s pretty stingy about giving out kisses, but if I pretend I don’t want one, she’ll grab my face between her little hands and cover it in kisses.
I don’t want to forget her at this age. I’ll take the toddler stage over the baby stage any day. That’s not to say that toddlerhood is without challenges. Last night we had a major meltdown over brushing her teeth. And she’s obsessed with things matching. If it doesn’t match, chaos will ensue. If she’s eating an orange and the wedges fall apart before she pulls them apart, she throws a fit, but I can handle all that. The good far outweighs the bad.
I love this little girl. Can’t imagine life without her.
Until next time, grace and peace.
If you’ve stopped by Senojal Designs lately, you may (or may not have) noticed that the etsy shop has been closed for quite some time. Due to major overwhelmation with writing projects and life in general, I shut it down shortly after Thanksgiving, and I haven’t looked back.
It was a tough decision for me to make, but as much as I enjoy designing and creating beautiful stationery, it doesn’t fulfill me in the same way that writing does.
So I’ve taken a breather.
That’s not to say that the shop will remain closed forever. In fact, I’m planning to reopen the shop in the next few weeks, after I get the last of my current writing assignments turned in. But I don’t intend to let the business of running my own stationery shop consume me the way it has in the past.
I will always have an affinity for amazing paper, but I don’t see myself running the shop 20 years down the road. At least, I hope I’m not. It’s a hobby that I enjoy, but it likely won’t be my profession forever.
So. All of that to say, I still enjoy designing, but there’s simply not as much room for it in my life as there used to be. Because of that, I plan to devote more time to designing for minted challenges (did I mention that three of my designs have been selected to sell on the site?) and less time to manufacturing stationery. Sometimes you just have to take a step back. So that’s what I’m doing.
Until next time, grace and peace.
{print available from the wheatfield}
Our world is one of instant gratification. I can have popcorn in two minutes and the response to a text in seconds. Thanks to my fancy phone, I never have to wait until I get home to check my e-mail, and I can update twitter whenever it strikes my fancy. I grow annoyed at red lights and frustrated at train tracks. Waiting is not something I do well.
I know I’m not alone in this. Go on, admit it. You’re not good at waiting either. You know what you want, and like Veruca Salt on Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory (the original version), you want it now.
The fast-paced-have-it-your-way-in-five-minutes-or-less culture that we live in has bred us to expect instant results. And most of the time, that’s fine. Except, of course, when we’re required to wait.
This week, I’ve been studying the Old Testament story of Abraham and Sarah. God promised them something big, and they waited a looooooooong time – 25 years to be exact – for it to happen.
Have you ever been there? Stuck in a holding pattern, waiting for something more? I am so there, y’all. I know how they felt. God promised me something a long time ago, and I’m wondering how long it will take for it to happen.
A couple of months ago, I went to Nashville with some other women from my church to attend a leadership forum. As I listened to some really fabulous women speak and teach, I was reminded of how badly I desire that kind of ministry. I recalled the moments in my life when I have felt God’s firm hand tugging me in that direction…and yet…I wait.
Don’t get me wrong – God has always been faithful to me. He has provided writing projects that have stretched and challenged me. I am currently overwhelmed by offers from editors, and that’s a good thing. Three years ago, with my brand new M.Div. gathering dust in the closet, it took me months to generate any sort of interest in my work. Months. I am thankful and grateful for the editors who have taken chances on me and allowed me to contribute to their publications. They have helped me get this train rolling.
But I’m still not satisfied. I want more. The prophet Jeremiah famously said that the word of God burned in him like a fire that he simply could not hold in.
I’m weary of holding it in, y’all.
And yet, in six short months, I will give birth to a brand new baby. My sweet little toddler is turning into quite a handful. I can’t even manage to go to the grocery store most weeks, much less travel across the country teaching the word of God. It’s just not time for that dream to become a reality. As much as I long for God to use me in such extraordinary ways, I feel like He is first calling me to be faithful in the place I am right now. In this stage of life. To raise my babies and serve in my church and write when I can.
God’s delay in fulfilling His promises is not His denial of their eventual realization.
Abraham and Sarah learned that by waiting. As for me, well, I’m trying. Patience takes practice, you know. I’m learning that just because it may not happen overnight doesn’t mean that it won’t happen at all. I’m taking it one step at a time and one assignment after another, all the while trusting that God’s timing is impeccable.
Until next time, grace and peace.
Hi.
I know I’ve been gone for too long, but there has been good reason, I promise. You may remember me mentioning how very busy the past few months have been. Busy and chaotic. And draining.
I took some time to get my head back together, which was coming unraveled. You can ask Dennis. It wasn’t pretty. I was snippy and snappy and downright unhappy, but I’m getting better.
In the midst of all of that, I lost my voice. I couldn’t write. I stared at the computer screen and hated myself for not being able to produce meaningful content. I questioned my calling.
I broke down and aired it all out with Dennis one night. The next day I did the same with two of my closest friends. They encouraged me greatly. I took some time off. Got my hair cut and colored.
And now I’ve got my nose to the grindstone – working hard to finish up work on a pretty big writing project. The good news is that I’ve found my voice again. Which means that you’ll be seeing more of me around these parts.
Eventually.
After I get this curriculum written :)
Until next time, grace and peace.
It’s a rainy Labor Day around these parts. Tropical Storm Lee has dumped buckets and buckets of rain on us over the past 24 hours. It’s wet.
Which means that we’ve had a lazy holiday listening to the raindrops fall on our red tin roof.
No complaints from me. In honor of our rainy day, I thought I’d post a few snapshots from another rainy day. Last week we had a freak afternoon monsoon. It lasted about fifteen minutes, and after the deluge passed, I let Micah play in the drizzle that remained.
The twinkle in her eye ought to tell you how much fun she had splashing around. She’s a mess, that one is. So lively. Always up for adventure. Full of wonderment and curiosity.
We had a visitor on the porch. After Micah caught sight of him, she spent the next 30 minutes saying bud, which, of course, means bug. I’m sure it was the funniest looking bug she’d ever seen.
Yesterday, I knelt down to hold her and saw the world through her eyes for just a moment. Things look different from the perspective of an almost two-year-old. She’s given me a renewed sense of childlike wonder, something I didn’t know I so desperately needed.
She’s also taught this high-strung mama that it’s OK to loosen up and play in the rain every now and then. Feet can be wiped and clothes can be dried. The memories created are more than worth a little bit of cleanup.
Seriously. What would my life be like without this moment?
I can’t imagine.
Until next time, grace and peace.
