Poetry & Words

WRITING & WORDS :: Go, Dog, Go!

Josiah and Aveline - Sunday morning breakfast and reading

When I was a little girl, my grandma recorded herself reading Go, Dog, Go!, and mailed me the cassette tape and the book. I listened to it
and over
and over again.
Despite the many, many miles between America and Europe, I believed she was right next to me, inside that tape player.

This morning, as Josiah was trying to eat breakfast, Aveline sat down next to him.
“Bo’? bo’?” she asked him eagerly, holding out her very own copy.

So right now, I’m listening to him read it
and over
and over again to her.

A different country. A different voice. The same story. The same memories.

Go around again!

Poetry & Words

WRITING & WORDS :: Do not put that potato chip in the outlet, and other toddler tales.

Aveline pokes the imperfections in the sidewalk as she walks. Every.single.one.

Well, walks are really more like runs. Runs-and-pokes. So, the more accurate way to say it is that she sprints, screeches to halt, and spins around at lightning speed to inspect the little pokable hole.

All this happens with a lot of squealing, and a steady stream of Aveline-words, many of which start with “z” and sound very French.

Aveline poking at a hole in the sidewalk - Toddler wearing handmade feather headdress with brown feathers and triangles

After a rain, it’s even more exciting. There are dozens of dime-sized (and smaller!) dimples in the sidewalk, each filled with warm rainwater, each just the right size for a one-year-old index finger.

Walks take a long, long time.

Aveline pointing to a crack in the sidewalk

I like this growing-up thing that she’s doing. I like it a lot. I can make her a sunbutter and jelly sandwich, cut it in half, and hand it to her. She can eat goldfish–well, goldsharks–while we run errands. And when I change her clothes, she stands up and holds on to my arms, points her tiny toes, and tries to stick her feet into the leg of her pants. They usually end up in the wrong leg, but still. She tries.

These are good, growing-up changes.

Even when she tries to put a potato chip in the outlet.

Even when she suspects we are about to leave the house, and frantically empties two whole dresser drawers in search of her shoes.

Even when she licks the sidewalk.

Even when she, concerned about the state of her diaper, yells “dirty, dirty, dirty” loudly in the grocery store.

(The other words in) her little vocabulary delight me. Dance. Songs! Socks. Seeee?? Puppy. Seeeeeee? Poppity. See?

And every time she says “seeee?” in her girlish voice, I get a little peek of what the the world looks like through her eyes.

She’s helping me experience childhood again. She’s helping me see that there is something to squeal about in ant-sized puddles, in the extra jelly on the side of her sandwich, in the way the wind lifts up and tosses back her hair.

Thank you Lord, for helping me to see your beautiful world like a child again.

Guest Blog, Poetry & Words

WRITING & WORDS :: This Early Light [my guest post on the Grace-Filled Blog]

I’m guest blogging on the Grace-Filled Blog today, while Erin takes some time off with her family to welcome her new baby boy. Congratulations!

Top of baby head in sunshine

“…The coffee has begun to mix with the air. She turns to run away, and the sun falls through the smudged windowpane and dances across the back of her head…” [continue reading]

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