Full Hands

It seems I don't often make it through an outing in public without someone pointing out to me that, with four girls close together, I have my hands full.
God bless you!, well-meaning onlookers say. Heaven help you!, they offer. 

Like many of you, I've maneuvered through the market, hands full of the handles of obnoxiously large car-carts, or through the park, with bags and water bottles and snacks and picnic blankets. My hands are full of markers, full of toys I'm carrying out of the kitchen and up the stairs to the play room, full of hand-made cards and all the scraps left over, full of menus and grocery lists and budget books, full of the rocks I found in Jane's pocket, full of tissues to wipe runny noses. My hands are full of back yard flowers picked by chubby-knuckled fingers, and full of little hands who still want to hold mine everywhere we go. Full hands are happy hands, though sometimes I've felt like I couldn't hold anything else for a minute. 

Then a year ago my hands started to feel like they could hold more and it felt like the right time to fill them up with a new little soft bundle. In early July we found out we were expecting. At the end of September we lost the pregnancy.
For the last 7 months there has been a fair bit of waiting to do. 

Waiting can be hard.

But waiting put a little ache in my heart that made me suddenly aware of people around me who are yearning to have their hands full of this or that, most of whom have been waiting much longer than I. Waiting makes me acutely conscious and quite deeply appreciative of what I've already been given. Waiting is humbling, and grounding, and makes me feel small, which turns my focus upward to rely on a loving Father in Heaven for guidance and strength.
These are good things.

And while I wait, I can see that my hands are so joyfully full they're almost running over...

Almost, but not quite. 

As I was Saying...

Well, I do believe that's the longest I've ever been away from this old blog since we started seeing each other. Sometimes these types of reunions can be awkward, but I think blog and I are just that kind of friends...we can pick up where we left off without apologies.

Maybe one apology. I've been a little wrapped up in a lot of thoughts, and some personal events lately, that have kept my attention elsewhere.  I think we'll talk about them as we go along, if they turn out to be relevant.

Here's what's relevant to me tonight: 

 Olivia and a couple of her besties, Alex and Lucy, doing their thing...

Happy to be back.

The Pet Show!

Every time Jane sees a flier for a pet show, she asks if we can please take Pom Pom and Fluffy to compete. We've never made it happen, but today we decided to hold a little pet show of our own. We invited friends and planned activities and it was a pretty big hit.

The kids dressed their pets to the nines.

The best kid-pet limbo competition:

 

And a pet fashion show/talent show to end the day.

(Looks like a pet baby made it in to the show somehow. Not really fair.) Glad our fun fun Hale cuzzies and Jeremiah and Claire Danielson and sweet Joshy Cremeans could come join us for the first (also last?) annual Wilson Home Pet Show! Hooray for our pets!

Snow Day

I can't count how many times Olivia prayed for snow this winter, and we were all pretty excited to wake up to a hearty dusting last Saturday.

A Couple of Babies

It's been 10 years since this happened:

We look like high schoolers. We practically were. Considering my naivete/youth/inexperience/pigheadedness, I am pretty darn boggled (humbled, grateful) at what a good decision it was to go and do that. 

Along with many good things, our marriage is also work. There is negotiating and communicating and giving and taking and apologizing and forgiving. A lot of trying to be a little less selfish. A bunch of trying to do better and to be better and to take better care of one another.
But there is solidarity, and humor, and this really great kind of awestruck feeling when we look at the four little humans we made.
And there is also a deep, abiding, enduring commitment, which feels a lot like love (it is) and feels a lot like joy. It is.

My wonderful Grandma Hale, whose marriage I admired very much, used to say, "When two strong rivers come together, there's bound to be turbulence." I like thinking of Caleb and myself as strong rivers. It suggests we're headed somewhere great, and we are.

I am of the opinion that the more you work for something, the more valuable it becomes to you.
Here's to many more years of work, and all the other good stuff.

Emme Turns 3

Last year several of us were almost comatose with the flu on Emme's birthday, which made it all the sweeter for us this year to be able to enjoy her day with her.

Breakfast in bed:

The arrival of "Baby Blueberry," from Grandma Diane. Named, and much loved, by Emme, Baby Blueberry now goes everywhere Emme goes.

Olivia and Emme enjoy the new additions to Emme's library from Grandma Michele:

Emme's pick for her birthday outing: Mall rides with the cousins!

 And the Merry-go with Baby Blueberry:

Before cupcake time, Emme was feeling extra festive and asked to wear her Christmas dress, and took her birthday wish-making and candle-blowing oh so seriously.

I love this age. Our Emme is equal parts spit-fire and sweetness, has us laughing one moment and then taking deep breaths to keep our tempers the next. In my experience, that's "three to a t" if you're a Wilson girl, and we are enjoying the wild, sweet, silly, adorable, spicy ride. We love you Emme! Particularly enjoying your preference for wearing your favorite clothing items for days at a time, your affinity for all fruit in the largest allowable quantities, your budding karaoke skilz, and your love for a good book n' snuggle on the couch. So glad we got to celebrate your birthday with you in earnest this year.