Singing Heart

I thought I should probably check in.

Even though life is complicated and at times stormy, there are blessings that illuminate and are enjoyed.



Every Friday I take the children to the public library. The trip is greatly anticipated, yet you wouldn't think so by the fight that ensues at the front door when too many hands try to push the automated door opener. This squabble is quickly followed by the argument over who placed the most books in the return slot, which is followed by who gets to carry the book bag, not to be out done by the fight over the drinking fountain stool.

These details are not my point, my point is: Norah picked a book a few weeks ago titled My Mother has a Dancing Heart. Trying to implement more of a dancing heart into our daily routine, I kicked my daily impromptu musicales up by singing Pop Corn Popping on the Apricot Tree Axel Rose style. I was quickly interrupted by Abram's loud objection of "Momma, don't sing". Norah sweetly healed my wounded pride with a "My mother has a singing heart".



With all of my short comings, fumbles and foibles; I will seek a dancing and a singing heart (except of course, when I don't. You understand right?).



The above photo makes my heart dance. Lulu's pants are perpetually on the loose.




Abram split his lip open and required 8 stitches. What? You can't see them? That is probably because we will soon be receiving an extraordinarily high bill from a highly skilled plastic surgeon. Still; this ordeal made my heart perform an off-beat dance while I was at Youth Conference (on the phone with the hospital, my mother, and Brad) performing an amazing race.












We've been fixing up our house a little bit here, a little bit there. The children have tipped over more than one cart at DI, but the treasures are worth it.





Our yard is finally being done and landscaped (by done I mean it will be ready for me to plant and dig and vegetate with the heirloom tomatoes that have been patiently waiting in pots on the porch). In fact, as we I write, the bobcat is squealing along at top speed and my oak floor is blanketed in a layer of top soil and desert floor. But I am so excited to stick my hands in some compost and come away filthily cleansed.



We just returned from Zions where lizards large and small are breathing a sigh of relief.







We've chased butterflies, rain, and the bobcat (hours of entertainment) and have attended spring programs galore.







I'm wishing for a summer that never reaches 90 degrees, thunder storms at least 3 times a week, and one that remains calm; yet filled with dancing and singing.

I'll keep you updated on the dancing and singing. Let me remain in my fantasy about the weather.