Who can resist a little girl in polka dots?

I had a little thought this morning.  It's personal.  I almost don't want to post it here.  But I think I will.

I looked at little Eleanor Carolyn, and I thought how thankful I am for her.  She's fun.  She's sweet.  Not that that isn't also true of my other children, but I tend to be slow to come around to things, and my adjustment to motherhood has been slow and grueling at times.

I recall that sometime last year --I can't quite remember just when-- I was struggling, treading water, and having a particularly hard time with life.  Not for any particular reason, or even any good reason.  It's just the way life is sometimes, I think.  So I started to pray for joy.  Joy in my children, joy in my life.  There I was, trying to figure out how to love and care for three boys-- two who were so little, both still nursing, needing me so much.  I didn't want to hate it.  I didn't want to feel the air being slowly squeezed out of my lungs. Then I was pregnant again, and I was sure I was really going to drown.

So I kept praying --desperately imploring God-- for joy.  I thought it would elude me forever.

So I looked at Eleanor this morning, and I laughed out loud.  My Heavenly Father --I think HE laughed out loud-- heard my prayer and answered it.  "Here's some joy." He said.  "Joy in the form of a sweet baby girl."  He knows me well, of course.  He knew I wouldn't be happy at first.  He knew I would cry.  He knew I would complain.  He knew the work would be hard.

I was (and am) more overwhelmed than ever.

And more joyful.

To refresh my joy in motherhood by increasing my motherhood?  Only God can pull off a stunt like that.

Punkinheads

I guess it's been awhile since I've just posted photos of our recent goings-on.

We carved Reformation pumpkins.  Jonah did his completely on his own, and Evan pretended to do his.  I hadn't planned on him carving a pumpkin, but he really wanted to carve his tiny little pumpkin.

We may not celebrate Halloween, but we like to have fun, too.

It turned out pretty cute.

This little punkinhead is the cutest of all, though.

She learned a new trick in the last few days.  It always cracks me up how determined babies are when they are learning something.  Once she figured out how to get up on her knees, she's done nothing but practice, practice, practice.

"Push her down!" her Grandma says.  Yes, really.  I actually kinda sorta want to.  I'm very happy with an immobile baby, but babies will grow and she will learn new things no matter what I think.

I made her some little hairbows.  A friend told me about the idea of making baby hairclips from the zippers of ziploc bags.  It's genius, really.  Those things really grip little bits of fine baby hair.  She's lost so much hair that she really only has a little shock of long hair on the top.  I try to spread it around. Like a little baby comb-over.  Poor girl...  But never has a comb-over looked so cute on anyone, right?

Balding like a middle-aged man, and she's still stinkin' adorable.