Meredith Carson... Across the Pond and Back Again...

The jig is up. We were making cupcakes a few days ago, and I sent Sophie to look for the food coloring.  We were pretty sure that Dad had stashed it with the camping gear for some reason.  After sifting through the still-unpacked remains of last weekend's camping trip in our garage for several minutes, she returned with a fiercely annoyed look on her face and something hidden behind her back. "What's up?" I asked, "Did you find the food coloring?" "No!" she snarled, "But I did find MY TOOTH!"  she whipped her hand out from behind her back to reveal the paper Dixie cup which housed the tooth she lost on our camping trip. "So...what does that mean?" I asked.  Seven years old is a good a time as any to have one's illusions crushed. "It means that Dad took it, and I am FURIOUS!!" "Ok... so what does it mean that Dad took it?"  I asked again. "It means that DAD gave me the dollar." she ...

Here is a question... Has anyone ever woken up after a night in a sleeping bag, outdoors, in a tent, on uneven ground and said, "Wow!  I slept great!!  In fact I feel fantastic!" I know you happy campers are out there.  You love the sounds of nature in the early hours of the morning.  You equally love the sound of the tent zipper being ripped open in the middle of the night to let a desperate seven year old escape and wee behind a pine tree.  You love being huddled under blankets with chattering teeth and marveling at how "at one" you are with nature and what not.  You also love knowing that there is a strange assortment of bugs flying and crawling around in the tent with you as you shiver and marvel.  God's creatures are so precious.  I know you happy campers love these things, but I happen to prefer a supportive mattress, climate control and perhaps a gourmet meal or two while I'm on vacation. Basically what I am saying is that I am an awe...

Guess who's got the Bieber Fever... Just so you know, no one intentionally taught Lili to sing this.  It's just so doggone catchy.  What are you gonna do?  (And sorry the picture is a bit wobbly.  I couldn't help giggling and wiggling as I filmed.)

I am not a coward when it comes to color.  Our last kitchen was a brilliant shade of orange, which we loved, and we have recently painted our "new" kitchen the perfect shade of red.  Color is our friend... We are not afraid of color for the record.  My husband and I have been inspired by the new hue in our kitchen, and we are eager to cover the rest of our walls in more exciting non-neutral shades.  Our eldest daughter is also anxious to change things up in her bedroom.  Sounds lovely, doesn't it? There is one small problem.  I don't want to paint my daughter's bedroom "the color of a yellow highlighting marker" (her description).  I thought we had settled on a lovely shade of purple, after much hemming and hawing, when out of the blue, she brought up turquoise blue.  Nothing in the child's room matches turquoise blue...although it is a lovely color.  So we discussed this.  Then she suggested a color from our paint sample wheel which...

My kitchen is being painted today, so I decided it would be a good idea to get my kids out of the house.  I took the lot of them out to an art fair.  Seven year olds do so enjoy perusing stalls and stalls of handmade crafts after all.  There was also a stall promoting our local animal shelter, and Lili just about wet her pants when she was presented with the opportunity to poke fourteen different dogs and cats with her little index finger whilst woofing and meowing appropriately.  Emma decorated a pair of sunglasses at the children's craft area while Sophia created a color-changing bead bracelet, and Lili dumped an entire bag of pony beads on the grass.  Check, please. Once I had invested five dollars in a large cup of "freshly squeezed" lemonade, we decided we had done enough damage at the art fair.  We could all tell that our one-year-old was gearing up for a most impressive hissy fit, so we let her push her own stroller right out to the car, and we loa...

I pretty much spend all day everyday with this little person... Most of the time this is a lovely fate.  Occasionally I feel a little suffocated, but since it's my third time around on this toddler merry-go-round, I know that this smothering sensation is indeed only temporary.  I am really enjoying being present for the rapid verbal evolution of my little buddy.  Several months ago her vocabulary consisted of only three words: Milk, More and Mama, all urgent and essential "m" words. Today she knows and says over 100 words.  Since she is my third, I have not bothered to make a list of them.  Sorry.  It is, however, very exciting to note that this ever-growing list of words results in less and less toddler-style frustration.  All people want to be heard and understood, and using one's words is a great first step.  Often when she is on the verge of a meltdown, I can stymie the tantrum by repeating her words/ feelings back to her.  For example...

Yesterday at the eleven o’clock church service I sat sandwiched between my two eldest daughters.  It was lovely.  Emma’s arm was linked through mine as we sang the processional hymn, Onward Christian Soldiers , together.  My heart filled with mirth as the little girl to my right sang out so loudly and joyfully even though the tune of this song was lost on her.  Standing there listening to Emma sing took me back to other occasions when I’ve stood beside a beautifully off-key singing loved one.  My late grandfather Lewis’s hymn singing resembled the sounds a tortured cat might make, but I always smiled inside when I stood next to him in church.  Even though the music was like an unknown foreign language to him, the lyrics were stitched into his heart.  Any person who stood by his side while he softly squealed along with How Great Thou Art could clearly discern the depth of his sentiment. I have equally fond memories of listening to my late grandmother ...