Many of you have seen Becky’s “Frown.†If you don’t know what I’m referring to, then you haven’t seen it. The Frown is hard to forget. When she frowns at you, you feel like you’re back in grade school, being stared down by a large, mean teacher after you just flubbed what should have been a simple math problem. Her look says, “You’re a moron. What were you thinking?†Becky typically shoots you The Frown when she’s been scolded, or when she’s been injured. For example, if she bumps her head on a table, she’ll turn and look at you with this shocked, disbelieving expression, like your stupidity personally caused her cranium to get whacked.
But descriptions don’t do it justice. You’ve got to see it to fully grasp the impact of the Becky Frown.
I’ve been trying to capture The Frown on camera for a while, with no luck. When I asked her to give me The Frown on demand today, this is what she did:
and this:
The closest she came to The Frown was this:
I’ll be sure to let you know if I’m ever able to catch the elusive, fleeting moment when Becky visibly disapproves of the world’s idiocy.
The girls and I went over to my in-laws’ for dinner this evening and enjoyed the view from their front porch. Well, more specifically, the girls enjoyed the scenery, and I enjoyed watching them!
What do you do on a beautiful late summer evening? Why, go for a ride in a convertible, of course!
The girls even took a little spin (literally) in their car. Jim had the bright idea to hook his father’s cane to the front bumper of the car, and whisked them around and around in circles. It was like having an amusement park in our front yard!
We’re back home, safe and sound…and sad. We already miss our California family. I’m choked up just thinking about the fact that I won’t see Grampa when we wake up in the morning, reading a book in the corner by the window, keeping us company while we eat our breakfast. And I won’t be able to wake up Aunt Angie with the girls’ babbling outside her bedroom door. And we won’t get our constant Grammie hugs and kisses and smiles all day long. I loved watching my parents’ and sister’s expressions as they played with the girls, their eyes alight with joy and wonder and adoration. It’s so hard being far away from my family, but it makes me cherish our precious moments together all the more. We had a wonderful week with you, family, and can’t wait until we’ll all be together again. Thanks for the memories!
Tomorrow, we’re going on a road trip. And I doubt it will be nearly as fun as this car ride:
The girls were happy as clams today in their own little car, courtesy of their beloved GiGi (my Gramma). It’s only a one-person vehicle, but they didn’t seem to mind being a little squished. In fact, they were so enthralled with their new ride that it made me wish I could somehow tow it behind the truck on our trip tomorrow – they’d probably be a lot happier in there than in their car seats! Of course, even if they weren’t happy, we wouldn’t hear them crying, would we? (Don’t worry mom, I wouldn’t really do that to them!). Although, we may hear Becky honking from way back there – she was fascinated by the horn!
Anyway, we’re taking a road trip tomorrow down to a lake cabin we’ve rented for the week with my parents and sister. I’m very excited for my family to get to know the girls now that their little personalities are not so little anymore. My sister hasn’t seen them since Christmas. The last time she held them, she had to support their heads, like this:
Now the only support they need is a hand or two to hold while walking!
However, right now Becky is in fact in need of a little assistance. She’s come down with a nasty cold, just in time for vacation. She apparently views me as one giant Kleenex. She totters over to me, buries her face in my shirt and wipes her sliminess all over my front. It’s not my favorite role, but I’ll take it. Because who could refuse a face like this?
Hopefully the car ride isn’t filled with too many sniffles and coughs. But my mom has assured me that, cold or no cold, she will happily snuggle with Becky. Maybe I can talk her into being Becky’s new handkerchief!
P.S. – I don’t know what the internet situation will be at the lake cabin, but I’ll do my best to update the blog while we’re away. I know you’ll all be waiting on pins and needles to view more boating pictures! :)
Today I realized my days of reading mindless, dog-eared magazines in a physician waiting room are over. And I was sad. I sat on the couch and cast longing glances at the finger-smudged magazine rack as I frantically dispensed cheerios, smushed cereal bars, and anything else I could dig out of my diaper bag into the waiting mouths of my two children. That’s why they call it a waiting room, right? Because you’re just waiting for someone to lose their cool while the clock inches forward? I was doing my best to keep the girls occupied while we were waiting for my father-in-law to finish his orthopedic appointment. I wondered if the girls would find the pages of People magazine as interesting as I would, but alas, they squawked every time the pace of the snack-shoveling slowed.
The one distraction, other than carbohydrates, that proved entertaining to the girls was people watching. Specifically, old people watching. Each time a grinning, white-haired head popped over the edge of their stroller, the girls flashed their high-wattage smiles, waved their sticky fingers, and babbled their garbled greetings. The affection was mutual. I loved how the elderly ladies clucked softly to themselves as they shuffled past the stroller, offering words of wisdom and encouragement and just-you-wait-until-they’re-two warnings. This reciprocal fascination reminded me of how strongly I believe in inter-generational bonding. When I worked (ever so briefly) in the field of geriatric social work, I dreamed of one day hauling in small children to entertain the nursing home residents. One facility indeed had a day care on the premises, but the times of interaction between the kids and the residents were few. I suppose there were germs and immune systems to consider on both sides, but it was a shame nonetheless. At the least, I wish we could have built a glass enclosed play area, so the residents could watch the children’s antics, rather than the wall. The benefits would have been incalculable, both for the minds and spirits of the residents, as well as for the children hearing the seniors’ stories and memories (I guess the glass enclosure would need two-way microphones installed!).
But for now, until I re-enter the geriatric social work field, I focus on getting my girls as much time as possible with Jim’s grandmother (Nana is our only nearby great-grandparent. Oh, how I wish I could have the girls play with my grandparents – I miss you all so much!). Although Nana’s dementia and aphasia prevent her from communicating coherently with the girls, they actually interact remarkably well together. I guess the girls can speak no better than she can, so it’s a perfect match. Who needs words when you’ve got smiles?
I never really thought about all that goes into learning to walk. The coordination, the strength, the balance, and the faith. It’s this last element that I’ve been pondering since yesterday, when Rebecca started taking her first tottering steps into the great unknown. Walking truly involves quite a bit of faith. When she haltingly reaches out a few inches with that little foot, she’s trusting in her legs, in the floor, and in my ability to catch her when she’s no longer able to keep going. Sometimes, after she’s taken a few steps, her momentum propels her, face-first, toward the floor, but she squeals with laughter as she falls because she knows that I won’t let her crash.
In a timely twist of fate, my father-in-law is also learning how to walk. He recently underwent a total knee replacement, so he is slowly, carefully, putting one foot ahead of the other, just like his granddaughter. He has faith that his new knee, put in place by a surgeon, will hold him.
2 Corinthians 5:7 says that believers in Christ “…walk by faith, not by sight.†Just like Rebecca, just like my father-in-law, we trust in what we cannot see. Our steps are weak, faltering, and imperfect. But like Rebecca, we know that we will be caught when we fall. Like Dad, we know that though we cannot see the new life within us, we trust the work of the Great Physician. We know that the pain of learning is temporary, and will ultimately give way to freedom. Because I am trusting in the finished work of Christ to atone for my sins, the Word of God “is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path†(Psalm 119:105).
Walking by faith is a difficult concept for me to grasp, but as I watch others learn to physically walk, I am reminded of how to spiritually walk. I can’t ultimately depend on myself, my own strength, because that will fail me (just as it does Rebecca when she careens toward the floor). I can’t even ultimately depend on the great minds of this world, the doctors, scientists, intellectuals, because they are only sinful, created beings like myself. But I can – I do – have faith in One whom I cannot see. Why? Because I believe in what He did. He walked a perfect life, suffered and died, and was resurrected as God accepted His sacrifice for my sins. In the words of the hymn writer:
“We saw Thee not when lifted high, Amid that wild and savage crew; Nor heard we that imploring cry, â€Forgive, they know not what they do!†But we believe the deed was done, That shook the earth and veiled the sun.â€
The next time you watch young child toddling along – or better yet, the next time you put one foot in front of the other, ask yourself what, or whom, you’re trusting in. Are you walking by faith, or by sight?
I'm blessed to be saved by the grace of God, loved by my wonderful husband Jim, and embraced by my twin girls, Rebecca Faith and Susanna Joy and my sons Jimmy and Danny. I started this blog in May 2008 when I was hospitalized for pre-term labor at 24 weeks gestation. The Lord allowed me to keep the girls inside until they were 34 weeks along, and on July 27th, Rebecca made her debut, followed by Susanna, five minutes later, on July 28th. We ecstatically welcomed Jimmy into our lives on April 25th, 2011, and Danny on August 31, 2012. This blog has been a personal journal of faith and motherhood and the only way I can remember which child did what and when. Thanks for stopping by to share in my Faith and Joy! Feel free to e-mail me at: [email protected].
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