Farewell Spring

Today is the first day of summer. And while I do love summer, I love spring more. Because with spring comes peonies. And unfortunately summer brings their season to a sad farewell. I was blessed to have a whole two weeks (perhaps a bit more) of blooming blossoms, though, and am trying to get excited about what the rest of the year holds for our other plants. But in the meantime, I'm enjoying the last of my peonies.

Here's my the inside of my Chicago bungalow.

For the home decorators out there, I am recovering all of my red pillows this coming week. Red and I are officially breaking up. And for the moms out there, YES, white couches are CRAZY! DON'T DO IT! Grey covers are being included in the fall budget. 

My newest piece, finished last month. India ink on painted canvas. 

I love the way it looks with the metal birds. 

And of course, I can't talk about birds without acknowledging my real ones. Here are three of our four Buff Orpingtons, just a few months shy of being full grown.

For your amusement of the day, I was gardening outside yesterday in the hot sun when Lexi said she wanted to put on her bathing suit and swim in our little pool. I told her to go ahead and go inside to put it on and then come right back out. Well, I got distracted. This happens. And a lot of time went by. And then, just as I was about to go and check on her, she opens the back door. "MOM!!!! I PUT SUNSCREEN ON ALL BY MYSELF!!! I PUT IT ON MY BELLY AND MY LEGS AND MY ARMS AND MY FACE AND MY BOTTOM!!!! ISN'T THAT GREAT???!?!?"

And there she was, at the top of the stairs. White. White. White. In every single place she said, plus some.

I bet you can't guess what the inside of the house looked like, can you? 

Farewell spring,

 and welcome summer.

Choosing Joy

One of the things I hate about myself as a mom.

Sudden raging anger over the simplest things.

She doesn't come when I call her.

She gets out of bed for the millionth time.

She hits her sister.

She loses control.

Why do you have to act like you're three? Why can't you be mature? Why can't you act like you are supposed to? How many times have I told you not to do that?

And there I am. Yelling again. Filled with anger at a child that I asked the Lord for, whom I love so very desperately. And suddenly I'm the one who has lost control. 

Perhaps I'm the one that is not acting like I am supposed to. 

I read this today, written by another broken mother (who also happens to be Ann Voskamp). Here we are trying and trying, and yet we still forget why we were created.

 http://www.aholyexperience.com/2013/06/what-all-mamas-and-us-need-to-thrive-this-summer/

And so I am thankful for a good Father. Who forgives more than we deserve. Who loves more deeply than we can fathom. And who longs for us to give ourselves over completely.

Battle for joy, or lose your life. Or other's lose theirs.

I choose joy.

What will you choose today?