A Toddler's Flower Garden

This.

This is what has my heart aflutter.  But probably not for the reason you'd think.

This afternoon Riley had occupational therapy.  He goes weekly and works to fine tune both his gross and fine motor skills.  Prematurity will leave you walking, running, and jumping like a baby giraffe a little longer than you should and scissors will make you set up your tent in the, "I'd rather just tear the paper than figure out these silly things" Camp.  So, we go.

After some time playing with a variety of yoga balls (to develop core strength and balance) Riley ran to the craft table.  He sat down and waited for Willow, his patient and wonderful therapist.  She joined him and got out his nemesis, the scissors (we have fun, but she makes him work).   Initially, there was groaning and a little flailing as he struggled to grasp them in a way that would render them a useful tool, but he ultimately got it sorted.

First, there was the green paper to make the grass, then glue. Oh! How his eyes lit up and his focused narrowed as he set his mind to follow the directions to dip the paintbrush in the glue, paint it on the back, and then flip it over (which is kind of a hang up for a lot of kids, but Riley got it, no problem. MENSA, may want to hear about that.  Just sayin'), and then apply pressure to ensure a good stick.  It was time to make the flowers.  With every frustrated snip, painting of glue, and strategic placement of each square, his eyes began to brighten as his masterpiece was slowly coming together.  You could see (and hear...he is his mother's son) his excitement grow.  The stems were next.  He didn't want just green, but brown, purple, orange.  He wanted markers, crayons, and chalk (who knew he was so versatile in such a variety of mediums?)

His favorite part?  The bingo dabber.  Blue. Red. Green.  He had to use all three.  Each were intentionally dabbed.  The right hand corner?  That's the sun.  He was instructed step by step how to make a flower garden, but without prompting from me or Willow, he thought to include the sun (again, MENSA. Hello?).  

He BEAMED when he was finished and brought it to me (I hang back a bit when they work at the table to let her develop his techniques).  He wanted to go show it to Mon-ca-ca (Monica), the woman who he's befriended who does the billing for the office.  He was SO proud of himself.  As we left, he had to hold it in the car, and then tantrumed just a bit when it found its final home, showcased on the fridge.

So what's my point?

I get it, I'm a parent. I know I am RIDICULOUSLY biased to the talents, skills, abilities (ahem...adorableness) of my son.  I am.  I am partial.  I am pretty much going to think whatever this kid does is straight up brilliant and if I let myself take it too far, I'll find myself wondering why MENSA hasn't contacted me about my prodigy child.  Like I said, ridiculous.  

As I found myself so proud of Riley and his 30 minutes of uninterrupted focus (for a two year old, where's this kid's gold medal?) and his final product, the Lord sweetly nudged my heart as He mirrored my delight in Riley to His delight in me.  

Whoa.

 

Wait....why? 

Because I'm His.  

Riley is mine and I am His.  

As much as I found such great joy and pleasure as he crafted his masterpiece and laughed with such enjoyment as he reveled with sheer glee as he presented it to me, it was but the fringes of God's delight in me--a mere taste.  In that fleeting moment, my grasp of the vastness of God, who He is, and how He sees me, grew just a little bit deeper.   

By objective critique, an artist would say what Riley produced wasn't art, at least not good art.  Regardless of his age and lack of talent, skills, or ability, objectively, describing it as mediocre is even being rather generous.  By comparison, an adult could produce something far more attractive, and a trained artist, even better than that.  But it is the love that I have for my son, and the deep delight I take in his pleasure as he worked, and the innocent joy he exuded as he shared it with me that makes this "refrigerator worthy" and a mother delight in her son.

It's not the artwork itself, but the love for my son that makes it precious.  

How much more does He delight in what He sees as precious?

This pretty much rocked my heart this afternoon.  After 27 years of knowing and loving Christ, it is in moments such as this that I feel so far from where I desire my heart to be, or if I'm being completely honest, where I think my heart is.  It took a toddler's flower garden to show me another small glimpse into the depth and reality of a love I will never fully understand.  It's a love that is fully undeserved and yet, IS FULLY MINE.  

If that's the case, why do I so frequently put my effort and energy into trying to do the things I think will earn an unearnable love that is already mine in all its fullness?  After 27 years of knowing and loving Christ, it's days like this, I feel no greater than a toddler.

I hate to admit, the quiet whispers of that still and quiet Voice is so often drowned out by the noise of my life and my push to make it through days that are filled with exhaustion, busy-ness, and the many many hats I wear. 

And then there are days when that Voice stops me in my footsteps and I am left in awe at the mere fringes of His immeasurable delight.

A New Family Tradition: The Pumpkin Patch

Fall is my most favorite season. The chill returns to the air, fires return to fireplaces, pumpkin spice returns to lattes, and I would go to the pumpkin patch. Whether it was on a school field trip or with my family, I grew up going on hay rides and picking out the perfect pumpkin from the field.

 

Where else but a pumpkin patch can a girl milk a wooden cow?

One year they held a pumpkin holding contest.  While I wasn't much for holding the pumpkins, my dad certain was.  We were the winning team with 22 pumpkins.  The prize?  22 pumpkins.  The stairs of our deck never looked so good as they did that October.

 

My sister Kelly and her little friend Freddie made up our first team.

Check out dad's Tom Selleck 'stache!  And we can just side step my super high half pony tail...I totally rocked it.

Some of my favorite childhood memories are from going to pumpkin patch and when Dan and I learned we were expecting in January 2013, I was already looking forward to October when we could take our newborn to the pumpkin patch.  I could already picture the adorable pictures we were going to take. 

 

Well, life happened and it wasn't until this year that we FINALLY made it.  While I would have loved to have gone to Book's Pumpkin Patch, the one both Dan and I grew up going to,  they're only open to private/scheduled groups now, so we ventured on to Wheatland to enjoy Bishop's Pumpkin Farm.  The day was finally here and I felt like a kid again knowing I would soon be experiencing the wonders of  petting zoos, hay rides, and pumpkin picking all over again through the eyes of Riley. 

 

 





Our first stop was the petting zoo.



Hanging out with the donkey. 



The horns were his favorite.

 

 

 

 



And sometimes, you just gotta hug a goat.

From the petting zoo we headed over to the wooden train, jack-o-latern, and rocking horses.

One cool kiddo.



This is where the cool kids hang out (and kudos to dad for actually getting into the tight space meant for kids).

Look ma, no hands!

 

After some fun playing, we stopped for some lunch and had some of the best homemade corndogs we've ever had.  Then it was time to ride the Bishop's Pumpkin Farm Railroad.

 

 

 

Riley looked a little confused about what we were doing.

 

But, he got 'on board' real quick with the plan to ride the train.

What BIG pumpkins!!

 

Despite the look on his face he was really enjoying his time at the pumpkin farm.

Then it was time to ride the carousel.

Daddy looks like he's having more fun than Riley is!



Look mom!  I'm on a GIANT tire!!

 Our time was getting a little short on how much more Riley was going to be able to enjoy before we were going to reach his meltdown point from playing too much and not getting in a nap.  But we still hadn't taken the hay ride out to the pumpkin patch, so we pressed on.

 

 

We had the whole ride to ourselves.

And after finding of the perfect pumpkin and falling ear first into the dirt,  it was time to grab mommy an apple cider slushee, daddy a bag of chocolate chip cookies, we called it a day and headed home. 

 



We didn't make it 4 miles down the road before someone finally got his nap.

 The pumpkin patch was a huge success.  We had one of the best days we had had in a long time.  I cannot wait until we have the chance to go back again next year.  I only wish that we could go to the pumpkin patch all year long.



The Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day - The Camping Version Part 2

If you haven't read about our ridiculously awful first night camping, you should probably check that out before you read on, here.

 

So we narrowly survived the night.  Dan wanting to pack up and head home but I just could not let our entire trip conclude this way.  NOPE!  He had worked too long and too hard to not get to enjoy the coast with his son for the first time, so into Ft. Bragg we headed. 

 

Can I just tell you how fortunate we were that we actually found a non-1 star hotel that had a vacancy?  I'm pretty sure it had to be divine provision.  The Best Western had two rooms left, one that had a bedroom, a living room, and 2 bathrooms.  Um, YES PLEASE!  And not to mention a lovely ocean view.  It certainly beat the overgrown campsite Dan 'enjoyed' and the view of the bushes I 'enjoyed.'  Things were lookin' up.

 

There are few times in life that a shower is as amazing as that one was...it was glorious to really most sincerely have all the pee off my legs from the previous night, cuz baby wipes just don't cut it (if you didn't read part 1, that just sounds weird and gross). 

 

Dan took a nap and Riley, as much as he tried to fight it, he fell asleep after the last bite of lunch.  The boys napped for a while and I enjoyed the silence.  Dan was really excited to eat at his favorite Ft. Bragg restaurant, so we were Cap'n Flint bound.  When it comes to fish, it's hard to compare to fresh caught, perfectly battered, and fried up with fries.  We were not disappointed.  After dinner Riley was so tired, but had the two year old determination to JUST KEEP GOING. I think he's wanting to run, but since he still walks like a drunk baby deer he just isn't there quite yet.  Poor Bambi...lay off the rum, will ya?

 

Back to the hotel we went, Riley was changed and ready to go down.  My arch nemesis--the pack-n-play, we meet again.  I don't know what it is but I'm pretty sure Riley is of the impression that the pack-n-play is as terrifying to him as the basement broiler is to Kevin in Home Alone. Nine, yes NINE attempts and 2.5 hours later, we finally figured out the winning combination, snuggles, songs, and when he went down, mommy laid on the ground next to him.  45 seconds later he was asleep and twitching.  SUCCESS--granted it was 11:30, but we had a sleeping child, at this point that was all I could ask for, that and an actual bed to sleep in.  It was rock hard and I ached in the morning but it was leaps and bounds better than the driver seat in the truck on the side of the road.

 

8:50 rolled around and after what sounded like an initial scream of terror, Riley delightfully sang and talked to himself just like every morning at home.  We had a happy, better rested (let's not say well, we don't want to get ahead of ourselves now) almost 2 year old and Daddy had an agenda for the day.

 

We headed out for breakfast, Eggheads was our destination, but with a 40 minute wait we decided we'd have to find somewhere a little less congested and made our way to Home Style Café.  It was ok, a little disappointing because we were looking for stellar, like the raves we heard about Eggheads.  Next time.



 

From here it was time to begin our day of fun along the coast.  Dan had three activities he wanted to do, granted we were going to do them spread out over 3 days, but when you're making lemonade, sometimes you make it from concentrate and you do it all in one day.  His plans?  Glass Beach, the tide pools, and the beach.  

 

Off to our first destination, Glass Beach. 

 

 



Probably my favorite picture from Glass Beach.

 

Dad taught Riley how to look for just the right piece and to always be on the look out for the blue ones.

 

Sadly this was the best we could get from Riley when it came to taking a picture with mom.  Sometimes it happens.

This one is a close second...

That goofy grin makes me so glad I fought for lemonade.

I'm not even sure what is going on here, but you can imagine it didn't take long to go from this....

 

to this.

 

We opted to drive to Mendicino next to see if we could find a place to take Riley to the beach.  It'd give him a few minutes for a nap and we happened upon Big River Beach.  It was a really calm cove that opened up under the bridge to a really beautiful beach with an area with little waves or bigger ones around the bend.  We found the perfect spot and even though the water was cold enough to take your breath away when it crash around your ankles, Riley was fearless.

Dad had to stay on his toes because Riley was spider monkey crawling head first into the ocean.  He loved it!

If that's not a happy kid playing in freezing water I just don't know what is.

He could have stayed and played for hours if we would have let him.

Oh my, the tantrum that ensued when it was finally time for us to go.  It was one for the 2 year old tantrum record books.  After a squirt down with the water bottle to get the sand out of places all kids want sand-free, we loaded up and headed to McKerricher State Park to get a glimpse of the marine life in the tide pools.  Low tide was about 6:30 so we were right on time.  Funny thing about cramming 3 days worth of fun into 7 hours is that by the time you get to the end, you're kinda ready to just be done.  Riley didn't care, he nearly fell asleep in his stroller in the short walk to the stairs.  We saw a hermit crab, we called it a day.  It truly is beautiful though.

 

 

Our time was up in Fort Bragg, I had to say we made a pretty decent pitcher of lemonade from our basket of lemons the previous day provided.  Another disappointing meal at a well-reviewed pizza place left us BEYOND ready to hit the road.  We concluded Riley would be so worn out after a day filled with fun that he would be in sleep mode instead of scream mode for the ride home if we traveled at night.  So we stopped at the only coffee shop still open after 8pm and half an hour later (it seems food service runs on their own kick back, not in any kind of hurry schedule there along the coast) and we were on the road at 9pm.  Coffee in hand, baby with heavy eyelids in back, my favorite person in the world to road trip it with behind the wheel, ipod playing, life was good....for about 45 minutes.

 

We made it through the curvy section between Ft. Bragg and Willits, Riley slept the whole way.  As we ventured on to Hwy 20 we saw a road sign notifying us the highway was closed due to the raging wildfire near Clearlake.  A call to my mom and CalFire and it was confirmed...we were looking at a RIDICULOUS detour...97 extra miles of ridiculous.  What was going to be about 5 hours home turned out to be almost 7 1/2 and Riley decided he should be awake for the next 4 of them.  WHAAA??  But at least he wasn't in scream mode for most of it.  My amazing ROCKSTAR of a husband got us safely home after another  coffee stop and two "shut-eye" pit stops to keep himself from falling asleep at the wheel. 

 

4:22am Sunday morning we hadn't been so excited to be home in a long time. I brought my kid and my pillow in with me everything else stayed in the truck.  After such an interesting, exhausting, certainly unforgettable trip, we climbed into bed, Dan kissed me good night and I couldn't help but ask, "Hey babe?  I want to go to church in the morning.  What time should I set the alarm?"  After all we endured, he still had his sense of humor about him.  There is no one else I would have rather had a Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Camping Disaster with than him.