Journal Excerpt

She is becoming more of a preferential eater. She is not subtle about this. If she doesn’t like something I’ve put into her mouth, she’ll reach her fingers in and pick it out, leaving it anywhere else: the floor, her clothes, even smearing it up in her hair. It rarely ends up on her actual bib. If she likes something, she’ll grip the edges of the high chair tray tightly while opening her mouth and screaming at the top of her lungs for more. Then she’ll stuff pieces in her mouth before she has time to swallow the previous one, cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk.

She doesn’t like liver or broccoli. She likes blueberries and grapes. I can’t say I really blame her.

Journal Excerpt

Changing her diaper nowadays is like waging an epic battle. I emerge scarred and sweaty, narrowly having missed smearing poop everywhere, while she half-dangles happily off the changing table in some contorted position with her new diaper half-taped on. Gone is that meek, cooperative little child. I miss her. Maybe she’ll make a reappearance in say three years or so.

E and Me

Yeah, I'll admit I'm posting pictures because I haven't had any time to write lately. June's always a busy time for the medical academic year. Residency finishes next week, and I'm staying on here for a part-time gig next year, which makes me extremely happy. Here we are at my parents', in the kitchen, where food and smiles abound.

On The Move

In case anyone is wondering why there have been fewer pictures lately.

Dwelling

The only thing she’s really addicted to are books. Not a toy or stuffed animal, but books. When she was in daycare, the first place they said she seemed to feel safe was in the book bin, so they’d let her sit wedged in the corner of the bin all day. When we’re reading a book to her, she looks extremely seriously at the pages, as if she understands what we’re reading (which is obviously not true because she’s often focused on the wrong page). She flips over each page with great fervor, and sometimes so rapidly I only have time to read the first line of each page (“little kitten went to see the frogs – she sees mice hiding in the shed – but I’m not an owl”). Makes for an interesting story.

Often when we finish a book, she starts crying, and won’t calm down unless I start from the beginning again. I once read through “Thumper’s Scary Night” five times in a row in this fashion. The best thing about having my family visit was that everyone got to read through “Thumper’s Scary Night” five times in a row. It’s gotten to the point where I have to hide the book from her.

But most of the time, I enjoy reading with her. It forces me to linger, to be present with her, physically, mentally, and vocally. It’s time we spend away from the rest of the world, one of the few times she’s completely focused and still.

I miss this sense of dwelling in my life. I miss lounging with D on the sofa, reading books next to each other without speaking. I miss late-night talks with friends. I miss sitting in one place long enough for both cats to curl up next to me for awhile. I miss undistracted time with God.

Unlike E, no one really demands this from me, but something is lost when I don’t create space for it in my life. The Bible speaks of dwelling more than of doing: God wanting to dwell with Israel; Christ coming to dwell with us; and one day us dwelling in the house of the Lord forever. It is a promise to us, a picture of what home means: My people will live in peaceful dwelling places, in secure homes, in undisturbed places of rest (Isaiah 32).