Day 3: Mirrors & Memories

The mirror hanging in our nursery is one of the sweetest touches in the room for me.  It serves as a constant reminder to stop and look at the precious face pressed against my shoulder.  During the day, Emmalyn has given some of her best smiles in that mirror, thrilled to see her own reflection or her daddy's silly faces.  But when I trudge up the steps to the sound of her cry, I don't always think of that smiling face.  Sometimes, it's hard to open that door.  And sometimes I'm still overcome by tiredness or distracted as I pick her up.  As soon as I pick her up and she wraps her little body into mine, I remember.  I look in the mirror and see her cuddled into me (something that happens so naturally, as though her little body was made for my arms), and I catch a snapshot of time.  I remember looking in the mirror like that when she was a newborn while she cried for no discernible reason.  I remember looking in that mirror when Eric and I were clueless as to how to help our sick baby.  And just tonight, I remember looking in that mirror and thinking, "I have the best job in the world."  What a divine privilege to get to hold this child and love her back to sleep.



About the mirror:

I have been reading Young House Love since 2009, and was thrilled with the reveal of their nursery for Clara about a year after I started reading.  You can really tell that they inspired some main elements in this nursery (the wall art, and today's mirror).  I saw this mirror at HomeGoods before they posted about it, and loved it.  I didn't buy it because I was trying to be budget conscious.  When I saw the painted reveal of the mirror in Clara's nursery, I started looking for it again at HomeGoods.  Of course - it. was. nowhere.  I finally gave up.  But while shopping with a friend a year later, there she was!  In all her black glory.  I painted her with a sample of paint from Lowe's.  I used a small brush to get in the nooks and crannies, and it took about 6 coats before I gave up.  You can only watch so much t.v. while hunched over with a tiny paintbrush.  People, just spray paint the thing.  Lesson learned.

31 Days to Cherish Our Home

There is little that compares to the feeling of walking through the door and knowing you belong. The tension lifts off your shoulders and you are free to be yourself.  Everything just feels right.  The dog may be barking, a baby tugging on your leg, and a load of groceries weighing you down (six bags up your arm, digging into your skin), but still.  you're home.  It's a feeling that can't be replicated in many other places, and people yearn for home with only one want to satiate their desires.  Homesickness can be ignored, but not cured until you walk through the door and know you're where you belong.  But how often do we really cherish that place?

My name's Kathy.  I'm married to Eric, and we have a beautiful daughter named Emmalyn (she's just about fifteen months old).  I'm a terrible housekeeper but I love a pretty home.  One of the greatest compliments that I can receive is when someone walks in our house and says, "This looks just like you", knowing that our home is reflecting our personality and style. I see our home as a gift from God and what we do with it glorifies him - a place to raise our family, to offer hospitality, and to share laughter with others.  My idea of a perfect evening involves students piled in our family room watching a movie or friends or family around the kitchen table sharing a meal.  Over the next month, I want to take the time to cherish our home.  Sometimes I get so busy thinking about the next project that I forget to appreciate what we already have.  It's time to stop and smell the cider scented candle that burns around the mess in my kitchen.

Thanks the The Nesting Place for challenging me to do this!  Check out the other 31 Days bloggers at http://www.thenester.com/2012/09/31-dayers-2012.html .

Day 1

Day 2

Day 3

Day 4

Day 5

Day 6

Day 8

What is it about laughter?

When Emmalyn started to laugh, it was pure joy.  Eric and I were staying in a hotel after visiting friends, and as we got her ready for bed, she started to full-out belly laugh.  I remember her laying on the bed, guffawing over and over.  She was just three months old, and we were so excited about all of the laughs to come. But the stinker that she is, we really have to work for her laughs.  She is a content little one, so we thankfully have been spared for lots of screaming outrages in the first year of her life.  Along with contendedness, I guess we lose out on extremes on the other side.  She doesn't laugh all the time, so when she does, we both savor it. If she is laughing with Eric or I, the other will almost always come running to see. Usually laughter comes when we throw her in the air or do something ridiculous.  Occasionally, we'll get laughs from tickling under her chin or poking her belly.  Each time, we soak in the joy that comes with that precious sound (maybe even more so because she holds out on us?).  One time on Facebook, I wrote that heaven surely is filled with the sounds of babies laughing.  There is something purely sweet about that sound.

This morning, I was eating my english muffin with butter and black tea (mmm, delicious - the joys of recovering from a stomach bug) at the local hotel.  I'm at Asbury for class, and obviously missing our little family.  CNN was on, and I just didn't care, so I tuned it out. Then, amid the political commericals and mud-slinging, this came on and my head snapped up:

I'll admit it.  I started to tear up immediately.  It was the most precious thing ever.  So Volkswagen, I'm not about ready to buy a car from you, but your commercial absolutely made my day (and made my miss my little laugher all the more).  Thanks for giving us Americans a break from the finger-pointing!  (Smart advertising move too - check out this post's kudos for that).  Laughter is truly great medicine.