Will dance for food...

So thankful for precious moments with my family. Lately, I feel like I need to walk around with a video camera or a notebook, recording everything...

Like this morning...it's Crazy Hair Day at school and I'm frantically trying to put my hair into pigtails. Haven't tried that in a while- I need to brush up on my pigtailin' skills before Chamblee gets older. Since I couldn't part the back, I enlisted my husband. At one point, I would've done just about anything for a camera. I was holding one section of hair, Chris' arm was linked through mine and holding another section while he tried to part the back. After that, he tied the big ribbons on each side. That's my man. He anticipated his late arrival to work:
Why are you late, Cranford?
Well, sir, I was helping my wife do her pigtails.

Like when Chamblee smiles her "squinty" smile. Her little mouth turns up and her eyes wrinkle; I can't help but smile back. Or when she talks to me as I work in the kitchen. She sits in her bouncy seat and just goes on and on. (Wonder who she inherited that from?! Hint: not her daddy.) Or when I go upstairs to get her every morning. Grunting and squirming, but she immediately calms when I say "Good morning, Mae Mae". She stills and then smiles. Last night, as I listened to Chris and Trafton in the bathtub, I sat with my daughter on the bed. She would squirm, pass gas, and smile her squinty smile. Ahh, precious memories.

My favorite recent story involves T. and his insatiable desire for tootsie rolls. A bag mysteriously wound up in our pantry (Thanks, Papa.) and everytime he spots them, he cries out "Mama! Toosie roll, peas." Finally, after he asked over and over again one evening, I told him he could have one if he did the tootsie roll dance for me. After a blank stare, I blurted out "Cotton candy, sweet as gold! Let me see you tootsie roll!" And what does my two-year-old son do? He starts shakin' it, of course. So fast-forward a few days and imagine my son in his bed, fussing because he doesn't want to go to sleep for some reason. This is rare for him; Trafton usually goes to bed easily-- plays for a while and then drifts off. For some reason, on this particular night, he just wouldn't let up. I went up to see what was going on. He looked at me, shouted out "Mama! Toosie roll!" and started dancing. Chris just shook his head...."That's YOUR child", he said.

He's silly, but he's sweet. We were playing "Seek" outside the other day after I got home from work. He holds my hand and says "wif me", instructing me to come with him. He leads me to the bushes and tells me where to hide. "I seek"-- he plans to come find me. But first? "Tight hug" and he squeezes me. Takes a few steps away and then runs back. "Tight hug! Again!" I hope he always finds it hard to leave his mama without a few good squeezes.

On Sunday, we were going to visit some precious friends and we came to a standstill on the interstate. Two firetrucks rushed past and then several state troopers. After a few minutes of waiting, I teared up. Before you laugh, let me explain. As we sat there, I was sure that someone was seriously hurt or even dead. I imagined us driving up to the scene and seeing a dead body. Then I thought of the family who would have to deal with it, and that's when the tears started to form. Trafton, always the observant little man, suddenly says "Mama! Better! Better, mama." I smiled weakly at him, then he looks up at Chris and instructs: "Daddy! Help, mommy!" Only 2 years old, and already taking care of his mama. When I was pregnant with him, my prayer was to have a compassionate child. I pray that his heart continues to grow and that he continues to watch over others.

Naked

You're blessed when you're content with just who you are- no more, no less. That's the moment you find yourselves proud owners of everything that can't be bought. 

(The Message, Matt. 5:4)

I remember, in college, when I asked a newlywed friend of mine about married life. We talked specifically about intimacy and having someone see you without your clothes on. I remember saying "No way! I will never be comfortable enough with another person to let them see me naked." This friend assured me that she used the feel the same, but because of her husband's heart and the covenant that they shared, she was free. She would even walk around the house naked. 'What?!' I thought, 'I will never be able to do that!'

Then you have babies, and all modesty/concerns about your body FLY OUT THE WINDOW. Poor Chris- I'm surprised he hasn't lost his sight after seeing me in certain situations. Puke, poop, blood...nothing seems to rattle him. He helps me without laughing (or by making me laugh, if it's the right situation) and doesn't think twice.


I know another woman who once told me that her husband had never seen her without makeup. I'm sorry....come again?! I must've misheard you. I thought that you said your spouse had never seen you made up. Holy moly. Again, poor Chris. He claims that he likes the way I look without makeup. Put your glasses back on, is what I tell him.

It's funny: we are so critical of ourselves. We dissect the way that we look and how we present ourselves to the outside world. We compare and wonder if we look as nice as the next woman. But reality is this: God watches me walk around "naked". He sees ALL of my flaws and doesn't think twice. Cellulite on my legs, or the flaws of my human heart. It doesn't matter- He still believes that I am worthy. I don't have to paint my face, shave my legs, or straighten my hair. I do these things because they help me feel comfortable, but I know that I am worth more. Make up, hair, clothes do not define me. My flabby skin, my increasing wrinkles and my scars are all reminders; they are reminders of where I have been and all that I have conquered. They are symbols of where God has taken me and what He has brought me through.