lock 'em out, they'll thank you for it.

I locked my children out of the house the other day. I locked all the doors, one step ahead of them as they ran around trying to find a way in. I smiled calmly through the window at their surprised and annoyed and angry faces, and then turned up the stereo and sat down with a book. I could see them, they could see me, and for the first twenty minutes it was a battle of wills. They tried knocking (I ignored them, ha!) They tried the doorbell (it's broken, ha!) They tried to get to a garage door opener (I locked the car too, ha!)

They were safe. They had each other. They had a yard full of toys and plenty of energy (believe me.)

I was determined.

And I won.

After they got over their initial shock and realized I was not leaving my spot on the couch any time soon, they gave in and started to play. And play is what they did for almost two hours. When they weren't looking, I set three cups and a bottle of cold juice on the porch. I snapped a few pictures through the window, just in case I needed to remind them later that they had not been traumatized by their mandatory fun time.

As it turned out, they didn't need a reminder. A day or two later as I was shooing them outside to play, Katie turned to me and pleaded with a laugh, "Mama, will you please lock us out again?!"

"You bet!" was my reply.

summer garden

looking around

Looking out of my kitchen window, I see rain (every. single. day.)

Looking down as they make chalk drawings in the screened porch, I see two sweet lambs.

Looking at a rainy day art mess, I see it is prettier up close.

Looking at them teaching her how to play cards, I see sweet and happy siblings (moments before a fight breaks out.)

Looking at my lunch, I see a pregnancy craving satisfied (don't judge.)

here we are in black and white

Three years ago, I wept in my car as I drove away from her house after one of the hardest goodbyes this military life has required of me. We refused to actually say "goodbye", firmly placing our hope in "see you later". California, Hawaii, Japan? We couldn't say but we refused to think our babies born two weeks apart and sharing a name wouldn't play together again one day. "See you later on some other beach" we dreamed out loud.

And now, here we are. Here we are finding out it was to be a Florida beach. Here we are watching those babies-now-four-year-olds splashing in the waves like best friends. Here we are cooing over her new little one and laughing at my pregnant awkwardness in the sand. Here we are for a little while, until the time comes for our next "see you later". Here we are amazed by God's goodness.