Delightful

That was the word we used a lot when Sophie was a baby.
She was.
Indescribably delightful.
Happy, goofy, engaging, delicate, easy to please, delighted, and delightful.

The older she's grown, her delightfulness seems only to be enhanced.  She delights everyone around her by her witty sense of humor, her great comedic timing, her mischief, her gentleness, her devotion to her big sister, her interest in others, her generosity, her thoughtful gifts of tiny scraps of paper meticulously cut with safety scissors, her dramatic story-telling, the way she invites herself into everyone's awareness with questions and stories and smiles.

Maya can't hide her grin (even though she pretends to be annoyed) when Sophie grabs her around the waist and shouts, "Yo-ah the best Sissy in the whole wide wold!!"  And when Sophie breaks down because she's hurt, or sad, or has just been corrected, or she's just too emotional and tired, she starts blubbering "Sissy!" in her pretend crying baby voice.  When Maya comes and wraps her arms around her, stroking her head, Sophie starts laughing through her tears.

Without whining (or even showing disappointment), she accepts her limitations from a lot of 'normal' treats and activities because of her peanut allergy, almost every outdoor allergy possible, and her asthma.  But she does make sure everyone knows she's allergic to peanuts.  It's just an interesting fact she carries with her, one more way to make friends.
She makes friends everywhere I take her.  Once she starts talking, the new stranger is usually startled by her voice or vocabulary or random comment and they just can't stop listening.  And within minutes, they are ready to offer her anything she might ask them for.  Maybe it's those huge eyes? Her earnest voice? Or maybe it's the absence of the letter "R" in her speech?

Either way, I've loved my world with three-year-old Sophie.  It's dwindling away...rapidly.  In a few hours, she'll be four.  But as panicky as that makes me feel,...mostly... I just feel pretty lucky to be her mom.  "Motch twenty-eight" will always be a special day.

'Four' is gonna be great.

a february flourish

Yesterday was one of those energetic, sun-filled days brimming with people and good things.  On my calendar, it didn't seem possible (to actually do all the things we were committed to), and I was a little nervous about attempting it, but somehow it worked, splendidly.

The girls woke up first (of course), playing and thumping around the house, gathering toys and setting up little "hide-outs"... until they got thirsty and hungry enough to barrel into our room asking loudly for some apple juice and 'frosting cereal' (Sophie's pretty serious about her daily frosted-mini-wheats).  We had whole-wheat apple and flax seed pancakes instead.  Saturdays deserve special breakfasts, I think.  Those extra hours (before anyone has to be dressed and prepared and somewhere-other-than-home) allow for a sunny meal at the table...usually waffles, pancakes, sausage souffle, or york-shire pudding.

Maya and Sophie usually have "sleep-overs" on the weekends.  We pull out the trundle bed in Maya's room and they stay up a little later, whispering silly things in the dark.  Sometimes, Ryan and I listen for a while by the door, stiffling our laughter and trying to remember everything.  I don't remember hardly any of their silly imaginings or conversations, but I remember the feeling of that shared moment, theirs and ours.

After our slow morning at home, we volunteered at a Symphony pre-concert event.  While clowns rolled around on unicycles, making balloon animals, giant animal-costumed characters roamed around the lobby delighting (and terrorizing some) children.  Pop-corn was popping, animal tattoo hand-puppets were being applied to children's hands, and I was helping children (and adults) try violins and cellos at the "Instrument Petting Zoo."  Maya and Sophie loved the whole thing. It looked like spring outside the windows of the Frauenthal lobby.  The Muskegon 'Snowfest' made the downtown a busy place (a rarity), street volleyball and chili cook-offs and people (sans the February winter coats) and bright tents filled the streets.

The symphony concert, though quite enchanting and beautiful, proved challenging for our 3 and 5 year olds.  Maya might have done okay if she could have seen better, but with her patch covering her good eye, I doubt she could see any details from our balcony seats.  Hearing the music might have also helped, but a terrible ear infection this week made her unable to hear the subtle sounds of the string section.  Eventually, the dark, and the music, the exhaustion from a busy day, and my fingers 'playing' the notes on her arm put her to sleep.  But both of them managed to sit relatively still and quiet through the first half.  We didn't attempt the second half.

After the symphony we raced to a 'Mr. Potato Head Birthday Party' for one of our favorite three-year-olds.  

By the time the house was filled with many of our closest friends, it was time to leave for church music practice and Saturday-night church.  Some kind friends volunteered to keep our kids and bring them later, so they didn't have to miss the rest of the party. Which turned out to be quite the event (including a special drive-by visit from a real fire-man with his firetruck delivering fire helmets to all the children)! 

At church, Ryan and I and our friends made music together (which is always good for my soul and mind), we played and sang to each other and to our creator... violin and 2 accoustic guitars... 

...heal my heart and make it clean

open up my eyes to the things unseen

show me how to love like You have loved me

break my heart for what breaks yours....

...

...then sings my soul, my Savior, God to Thee

How great Thou art...

After church, we ate tacos at El Burrito Loco around a wild table full of children and laughter, then headed home for a late bed-time (and for me....a late-night run and some yoga, then to bed with peach tea, new pajamas, a book light, and my Conversational French book.)

This may be the start of a flourish on the blog too....  I have lots of things to post about. Lots of things to be grateful for.  Did I tell you I'm going to Paris?  I am.  And I have lots to say about that.  Stay tuned.

Or don't.  It could be a long wait.

"Sisters..."

"...Sisters
Never were there such devoted sisters."

(Creepy make-up, I know. It was 'required' for her dance recital. She looks frighteningly like her future 16 year old self. But I love their embrace in this picture. So excited and happy.)


Right now, as I type, I'm listening up the stairs.....to Maya breathlessly singing... "two different faces, but in tight places...."

She can hardly keep her voice going for all the dancing she's doing. I hear her feet thumping around.

A minute ago, as they got their pajamas on, Maya and Sophie went back and forth (about twelve times) saying, "thirsty" (Maya) and "thuh-sty" (Sophie).

It started like this...

Sophie: (from the bathroom, probably getting a dixie cup full of water) Maya, ah you thusty?
Maya: (a bit mockingly) Thusty? Sophie, do you mean thirsty?
Sophie: Yeah, thusty. Ah you thusty, Maya?
Maya: Sophie! It's THIRSTY. Say THIRSTY.
Sophie: Thusty
Maya: Thirsty
Sophie: Thusty
Maya: THIRRRRRRR... Sophie, say Thirrrrrrrrrr
Sophie: THUUUUUUUH
Maya: THIRRRRRRR... Sophie, say Thirrrrrrrrrr
Sophie: THUUUUUUUH
Maya: (sweetly condescending) goooood, Sophie. Thirrrrrrrr...
Sophie: Thuuuuuuuuh
Maya: Thirrrrrrrrr...

...and it went on like this for quite some time. Then, the song began... "Sisters, sisters..."

I'm not making this up.

But I should go send them to bed.

I've been hunting

...for the original clothes for my American Girl "Kirsten" doll ever since I brought her out of storage for Maya and Sophie to play with. Until a few months ago, she was packed up in a clear zippered bag on a shelf in the basement, just waiting for the day my daughters were ready.

This summer, when one of Maya's generous friends decided to just GIVE her an (extra) American Girl doll...(and a Bitty Baby for Sophie, and dresses and accessories, etc.) it was time. I decided to get my Kirsten out, so that when another friend came over to play (that same day), they could play together. But my doll had no clothes. I just knew that they were packed away carefully in a shoe box...somewhere. I asked my parents to search my old closet, the garage storage, the crawl space...

When I was little, I knew that ownership of such a doll was no small thing. In fact, no one gave her to me. I'm pretty sure I knew better than to even ask. I carefully studied (or memorized) the catalog as I saved my money...for...years. When I finally had the $90, I ordered her.

Just the doll. Not the extra accessories...

Not any of the other outfits or books or furniture either. I made those. I sewed a detailed quilt by hand, my dad built a poster bed, and I made pillows, a sham, a fitted sheet & top sheet, I made her an apron, my mother sewed her an extra dress. I loved this doll. And I loved the historic time she represented and all the ways she excited my imagination.

I do have issues with the whole game that the "American Girl" company runs. While there are a few great ideals wrapped up in the "American Girl" package, it mostly seems to be a slick and brilliant business, marketing endless products and accessories, all exhorbitantly priced, offering branding and identity shaping, early materialism building.... The whole machine makes me a bit cynical.

But I'm obviously still (a little?) guiltily hooked. I try to be a skeptic, but deep down, it's really hopeless for me.

After that day that I pulled my Kirsten out of storage, I did a little internet searching on her. She's 'retired' now, and sells for over $300 new. Not that I'd ever try to sell her (she's not in good enough shape if I did)...I was however a bit more desperate to find those original clothes. I called my parents again. I went there and dug through my old closet myself. No luck.

Tonight, as Ryan pulled down the Christmas boxes from the garage attic, he found a box, a huge forgotten plastic tub. He thought it might hold some of my childhood things. He was right. It was filled with baby blankets and six labeled shoe boxes, each a treasure chest for a sentimental mother of two little daughters. Inside the tub, I found my old Madame Alexander baby doll from my Aunt Connie, my only "Barbie" (not a real worldly Barbie, of course. Mine was actually a Biblical "Esther" doll purchased at the local Christian book store), my Hatian doll (brought back by missionaries), a white and pink quilt from my bed, a few of my prettiest baby clothes, several doll dresses, and my beloved "Sarah" cabbage patch doll.

I had a handsewn "cabbage patch-wanna-be doll" for a long time (that someone made lovingly for me, I'm sure), but it just was never the same to me. I always wanted a real one, like all my friends had. When I was seriously ill in the hospital as a five-year-old, my next-door neighbors bought one for me. I still remember opening the box in my hospital bed. She had long brown hair and brown eyes like mine. She wore authentic cabbage patch accessories, white & pink pin-stripe jeans, white tennis shoes with pink stripes, a pink rain jacket (all found preserved in this magical bin). Owning her then made me feel SO rich.

And in the box on the bottom, Kirsten's things. The pillow I made for her bed with a ruffled edge and heart hand stiched in the center, a red flannel nightgown (which will be perfect for our Corbin family Christmas red-flannel pajamas tradition) and Kirsten's original dress and apron.

I'm full of once forgotten memories now, and...pretty excited to reveal my treasures in the morning to my two sleeping girls.

up

Sophie: "Will you swing me UP and ovah?!? willy high!!?"

And Maya just likes to have one big push...and she's off, on her own.

I kind of miss swinging. It has to be one of the freeing-est feelings ever.

Even though I rarely get to swing these days, swing-pushing and little girl-catching and cuddling provide some pretty delightful feelings too.

We have a whole summer together ahead of us. Have I mentioned that I'm excited about that?

suppressed excitement

Today I stood at my classroom door giving hugs and wishes for a great summer. I turned in my grades and organized my cart. I still have some work to do in the building before I am officially done for the summer, but today was my last day with students.

I am very aware of my 'in-between-ness' tonight. Almost...done with school for the year, almost on summer "break", almost ready to start my last summer of grad school.

I have big dreams for summer days at the pool, the beach, the library, gardening, reading, sewing, walks, ice cream, play dates, the zoo, the Fredrick Meijer Gardens, a whole week spent at the cabin. But the reality may not be as 'dreamy' as my aspirations (though I am determined to cram ALL of those things into our days somehow). In one week, I will begin the commute to MSU. First, for a 2-week workshop that meets all day every day. It will be wildly fun, incredibly challenging, inspiring...and exhausting. And as soon as that class ends, the next 6-week session begins: Research. Only one class this summer...and I think...I like research. I certainly like the fact that this will be my very last class for this degree. But my excitement to be done (soon!!) is quite restrained. There is much to do before I sigh with relief or celebrate.

This weekend however, will be filled with busy fun. A mass of graduation open houses, a wedding, a graduation, and somehow in the midst of the busy-ness...I am mostly excited about family time. Kelly, Sean, and Chloe arrived tonight from Massachusetts! And on Saturday, Andrew, Lynn, Jaelyn, and Addison are coming from Ohio for a quick visit too. ALL my siblings and nieces and nephews in the same town. Too good for words. I'm trying to suppress my expectations about how much time I will get to spend enjoying their company...but I'm really hoping for a quite a lot.

Sometimes when it's too quiet upstairs...

...and the girls are playing together, I get a little nervous.

This afternoon when I went up to check, it was completely silent. I didn't see them either. "What are you doing, girls?" I asked.

From behind Sophie's door I heard Maya say sweetly, "We're reading." And they were. Just sitting in the corner by the bookshelf looking at books together. This has been happening more and more lately, but it still feels a little magical every time.

The biggest problem with a 'people-pleasing' obsession

"We must continually remind ourselves that the first commandment requiring us to love God with all our heart, all our soul, and all our mind, is indeed the first. I wonder if we really believe this. it seems that in fact we live as if we should give as much of our heart, soul, and mind as posisble to our fellow human beings, while trying hard not to forget God...But Jesus claim is much more radical. He asks for a single-minded commitment to God and God alone. God wants all of our heart, all of our mind, and all of our soul."

--Henri J.M. Nouwen

Instead of walking in the continual presence of God, I often walk within the worry and sadness of my own (and sometimes others') perceived inadequacies, failures, relationships, and losses. In doing this, I disregard the love for us that God has so abundantly revealed in his coming. By choosing to walk in worry and doubt, concerned with the people around me (and all their worries, and fears, and expectations), I also ignore his command to walk in Him, to give him all of my heart, all of my soul, and all of my mind.
Today's advent reading from Matthew 22:34-38 (when Jesus tells the Pharisees about the most important commandment), challenges me to get rid of those old worries (and to deliberately choose one...to give up forever) in exchange for the "shelter of a loved and loving God."

four kids are sleeping upstairs.

We feel pretty proud of our accomplishment. Four children, all of them under four are having their very first sleepover slumber party. They are sharing two bedrooms. They are all asleep.

And the only one who really struggled with bedtime was Maya...she was just...way. too. excited. She was so determined to obey. To go right to sleep. To do 'better' than she did at nap time (when she was removed from the 'sleepover room'). But she just couldn't leave poor (exhausted) Natalie alone. She kept telling her to close her eyes. The 'no talking' rule seemed less important than her need restate the rules in a mother-ish condescending tone to her silently annoyed friend.

We tried hard to keep them so busy today that no one would have time to revolt or whine and so tired that they couldn't help but sleep. It worked, everyone in the whole house (except myself) took a 2-3 hour nap, and I got a lot of reading (even some lesson-planning) done. But after naptime, we had to get them all tired again, so there were two long walks, one carousel ride, side-walk chalk art, soccer games, bike riding, bubbles, races around the house with all the neighbor kids, violin lessons, snacks, pajamas, and stories.

Success.

Meet Maya's Sibling...

...here.

back in june...

...we added an "Uncle Sean" to our little Corbin family.






But then, we had to say goodbye to Aunt Kelly and Uncle Sean.


Until last weekend!!
Their happy return was celebrated with a feast of Moussaka...

a friday evening of cheese cake, whipped cream and warm Irish coffee,
A sunny but cold Saturday was spent in a warm(er) tent, with bread bowls of stew, hot apple cider, and delightful Irish music.


my favorite of the bands, Scythian, actually impressed us more with their gypsy and Jewish flavored fiddling than the true Irish stuff.

We had to say good-bye again, but Christmas isn't too far away.

Introducing...

...Maya's baby brother or sister.
Due to arrive April 7th, 2008.
Yes, that's the head on the right. And all the way to left, you can kind of see little legs!

I've been posting, they've just been hidden for a couple of months...
So, if you'd like to read more, go here. There all there now!

not the only girl any more

For all of my 'growing-up' years, as a little girl, I dreamed of having a sister.

I did love the special attention and protection I got from my big brothers...there are advantages to being the only girl. But I always envied the relationship of sisters.

Then...

...I got one!

And now, I have four.

Having idolized my brothers for as long as I can remember, I never thought that they could ever find deserving wives. But as each one of them found amazing, beautiful, patient women, I hoped that they would soon become my sisters...and that my brothers wouldn't lose them or scare them away. Ten years ago...in highschool, I never would have guessed that two of my friends would one day mean so much more to me, that we would forever share our lives as sisters. That my friend Kelly really meant it when she hinted that her brother and I should be more than friends.

My sisters add so much to our family...balance, wisdom, perspective, grace, awareness of reality, humor. I am constantly amazed by their unique passions and abilities. Their patience, generosity, wisdom, beauty, discernment. I love having sisters to call when I have questions or just need someone to listen. Lynn, Marianne, Andrea, and Kelly are truly some of closest friends.

And today is my very first sister's birthday. Happy Birthday, Lynn! I am so grateful for you. I love the way that you love my brother and my neice and nephew. And I am especially grateful for the way that you have accepted and loved me too.
I love you!