The weekend following Thanksgiving, I hung out with 5 giggly girls – and a bunch of snow ever-so-fortuitously dumped on us. A great excuse for hats and boots and mittens and Nonna snapping some pics!
How perfect is this? Then…
Yesterday I shared Snow Babies, part one, with snapshots of 5 of my cherished grandbebes (Gavin, Hunter, Malakai, Evangeline and Oliver). Today the rest: Guinivere, Gemma, Averi, Amelie, and Bailey. All pics snapped on the iPhone 6+
And as fate would have it, today is a major ***Snow Day***
Guini texted that she wanted to spend her snow day with me. How sweet is that? She’s 10. She came over for a few minutes, but actually formed a band with her brother and sister. Their dad posted a few seconds of their performance on Instagram and 3 hours later, it has 1100 likes.
Guinivere looking so grown up and so much like her mommy. Wasn’t that just yesterday?
Bailey-Baby, 2. She’s the little, but oh-so-powerful one.
Gemma May is 8 1/2. She is all the colors!
Averi. She turns 8 tomorrow!
Amelie sent me voice memos saying, “FaceTime us, Nonna, we’re having a snow day!” That melts my heart!
Amelie is 5 and was the ornery one. Snow was flying very which way. And she couldn’t quit giggling and incriminating herself.
A bonus picture of Bailey from craft time. We made Saint Lucia crowns.
It is a white out in the Denver area. I texted all my grandbebes and said, “Look out at that white, white snow. See how pure it looks? Well, that’s what Jesus’ blood does to our messy, ugly sin. He covers it and then we are WHITER, even, that this snow! Can you believe it?! Whiter than snow!
Psalm 51.7 “…wash me, and I will be whiter than snow”
Promise I’ll go easy on the grand-kid pictures for awhile. But I am a Nonna. What are you gonna do? :)
I can’t remember if I’ve mentioned I have 10 grandchildren?
Haha! Just kidding. I know I have mentioned it.
Our FB header recently
They are so much fun, these grandbebes of mine. They let me kiss their heads and squish their cheeks. They let me hug them tight and call them by many silly names of endearment. They call me Nonna. And that is enough to melt me all the way.
Gavin, 12 1/2Hunter, 11 Hunter and Gavin, cousins and buddies
What is it about grandkids? Why on earth do they turn us upside down in the most dazzling and deliriously happy way?
When Gavin came along, my very first grand-boy, almost 13 years ago, I wasn’t really seeing myself as a grandmother at all. I sure wasn’t going to be one of those people bragging about them, pulling out a stack of photos and gushing with pride. Yeah, right.
But this thing happens. I looked at my daughter just having had a baby and thought, “Wow – she is amazing, look what she did.” And in short order, I tumbled head-over-heels for this little red-headed guy.
Evangeline is 2. And always looking for a reason to smile. Here, we had tossed some snow her way.
The snow was so deep this day, we had Oliver on a little chair. I decided to re-do their a shoot a week later to make him more comfortable. But we got some great ones this snowy day!
Then came Hunter and it happened again. By the time Guini came along, a grand-girl, I knew to clear my schedule for falling in love.
Each time a grandbebe comes in to my life, I know it will never be the same. My heart gets bigger. It gets expanded and beats hotter with love, stronger love than I knew existed. It beats with wild joy and passion for another little human being, something of me, a part of me I’ll leave to the world. I will never get over these ten…and anymore who may come along. :)
Oliver, 10 months. He liked sitting on the ground a lot more (especially since I covered it with a sheet)
On 5 different days, each with snow falling or on the ground or still around from a previous snow, my sweet grands let me snap some shots of them with a tree-on-fabric thing I got from IKEA a couple of years back. All snapped on the iPhone6+.
Malakai, almost 3 here, just wanted to lob snowballs at his Nonna.
I live in Colorado. There will be snow. We need the snow. I certainly long for snow every single Christmas. After that – not as much snow zeal here. But these pictures of ten little human beings who love me like I love them? Well, they make the snow oh-so-much-more enjoyable. Oh yes, they do.
Let it blister and bluster and blow…Let it snow!
Lucky you…I’ll share 5 more of my sweet snow babies tomorrow, when I’ll likely be snowed all the way in!
Kai-Kai came to hang out with me. It intersected with my first day home in 17 days. And a more glorious Colorado day, I don’t think there could have been. Seriously – even a few puffy white clouds cannot dissipate the bluest of blue skies in Colorado. The sun was warm, the breeze was gentle and Kai was cuter than ever.
And I was thinking as my grand-boy and I were swinging and making pictures with chalk on the sidewalk, while we picnicked on a blanket in the cool green grass, as we climbed around on the play set and scooped up pebbles for throwing – I was thinking how amazing I am as a Nonna.
Grilled chicken, peas, quinoa and blueberries for lunch. Animal crackers for dessert!
Yes. There. Can you believe I actually said that? Well, I did.
I am really a great Nonna. :)
I am really good at this grand-mom thing, it turns out. But it isn’t of my doing. It is not because I am accomplishing anything or being especially productive or impressive at all.
We enjoyed the neighbor’s beautiful autumn tree during our picnic
It’s mostly just because, I have realized, I just accept and receive the grandbebes for who they are. I enjoy them and embrace them and am in awe of them just as God has created them to be. I open my heart to all of it and feel giddy for the honor of getting to watch them and know them and see their lives unfold.
In short, I really do nothing other than enjoy them. I just sit around receiving everything they bring to life, the gift of them.
Sandy-the-Dog wishes!
I am much better at being a Nonna than I was a mom.
As a mom, I doubted myself constantly. I was sure if I didn’t do every single thing right {I didn’t} my kids wouldn’t turn out {they did}. I was afraid it was all in my court: make sure they get good grades, are well-rounded, excel in athletics, become super citizens, are polite at all times, have the best of everything, never get hurt, {make me look good…true confessions}, and become who God wanted them to be. That last one – well, I was pretty sure God had a plan for them and if I didn’t work hard enough – I could totally mess up His deal.
“Direct your children onto the right path, and when they are older, they will not leave it.” Proverbs 22.6 NLT
And yes, of course, we have a part, as the above Proverb encourages us. But somewhere along the way (when they were almost grown…it takes me awhile), I began to realize that more than my children were “mine,” they were His. More than any love I had for them, more than any protection or experience I could provide, He had more, so much more – that He had known them from before…(see Romans 8.29 and Ephesians 1.4). My “hard work” in raising the world’s 5 most amazing kids was mostly ineffective, at best, damaging to them at its worst.
“I knew you before I formed you in your mother’s womb. Before you were born I set you apart and appointed you…” Jeremiah 1.5 NLT
I really did do my best, the best I knew to do with my children. But I over-parented a lot, I obsessed over things that didn’t matter sometimes. I erred towards discipline and creating righteous little children along the way when I should have laughed with them more, let some things slide and just plain enjoyed them. Too often I was set on molding them into godliness (at a level I could never even seem to achieve) as holy human beings to be admired instead of receiving them as the gifts of God He created them to be. And just loving them like the Father loves me, foibles and all. How does He love me?
God is mindful of me, always thinking of me (Psalm 8).
He created my inmost being and His works are wonderful (Psalm 139.13-14, the whole chapter, really).
God loves me with an ever-lasting love and draws me with loving-kindness. That is some deep love (Jeremiah 31.3).
He chose me and does not reject me (Isaiah 41.9).
I was actually made in His image (Genesis 1.27).
His thoughts toward me are countless-like the sand on the seashore (Psalm 139.17-18).
He rejoices over me with singing, just like I do over Him, but better! (Zephaniah 3.17)
He sees me as His treasured possession (Exodus 19.5).
He will never stop doing good to me (Jeremiah 32.40).
He is my greatest encourager, believing the best in me always (2 Thessalonians 2. 16-17).
God comforts me in all my troubles (2 Corinthians 1.3-4).
He comes in even closer to me when my heart is broken (Psalm 34.18).
I am precious in His sight (Isaiah 33.4).
I am the apple of His eye (Zechariah 2.8).
We’re friends, God and I. He has called me His friend (John 15.15).
God delights in me (Psalm 150.4)
He carries me close to His heart, just like a shepherd carries a lamb (Isaiah 40.11).
He doesn’t count my sins against me, not keeping a tally of my failure (2 Corinthians 5.18-19).
He forgets my sins – as far as the east is from the west, He has removed my transgressions from me. Awe-inspiring.
I didn’t choose Him. He so loved me, He chose me and appointed me to bear fruit that will last. I can ask Him anything, anything! He is my Father. (John 15.16)
Nothing can separate me from His love (Romans 8:38-39).
He has always been my Father and He will always be my Father (Ephesians 3.14-15).
So that’s a good start on how to love our kids. And the grands.
Look at that little face. I think Kai was telling me, in this shot, “You’re doing pretty good as a Nonna.” As best I can, I’ll reflect the love of the Lord towards me back onto him. And I receive all he is, the gift of him. He knows. He can tell…
This was in the kitchen upon my return:
From the Kelley kids. They love their Nonna and their Nonna loves them. And I am really great at that!
Dear Gavin, Hunter, Guinivere, Gemma May, Averi-J, Amelie Belle, Malakai, Bailey-baby, Evangeline and baby-Faaland-to-be: You’re the reason I was born! :)
I started blogging in the dark ages with absolutely no technical no-how at all. Everything changes and people are so much better at it, but I am still rattling around here in the dark yelling “Hellllllllp, Tristan,” to my long-suffering son-in-law with some regularity. I mean, the whole blog crashed like 3 months ago and I am still puttering around some default template, unfixed, un-personalized. Tsk.
This was the header when I first started, 11-29-06. The leaves actually fell and swirled.
As I approach the date of the 7th (the 7th!!!) anniversary of my first dip into blogging waters, I am restless and embarrassed not to have gotten better at it. It doesn’t feel like me right now. It should be about something specific, right? It shouldn’t be all over the map of serious-to-ridiculous, of well-formed thought-to-explosive opinions and stupid jokes, should it? By now, I should have found my voice and my rhythm and a nice tidy package labeled “identity.”
my out.
Oh well. That is why I named it after my favorite elementary school art unit: collage. I named it Thought Collage because that meant I could cut colors and scraps and shapes and symbols and pictures from any and every area of the magazine of my very existence and paste it all together to say: Look. I think this – all of it, even if it sometimes conflicts with itself. All the pieces make up the whole.
Collage (From the French: coller, to glue, French pronunciation: ?[k?.la??]) is a technique of an art production, primarily used in the visual arts, where the artwork is made from an assemblage of different forms, thus creating a new whole. -Wikipedia.org
brace yourself.
Worse yet, I am going to quote myself from these very blog pages over the next 10 days or so to celebrate this monumental anniversaire. Yes, I am! You’ll be forced to reread something I already said that I still like when I read it.
“It’s a trail of bright colored Play-Dough bits and crayon drawings of “piles of snow” and stickers and paint and Light-Saber battles with vacuum hoses and cookies and orange pop and more cookies and dancing to the Fiesta Latin music channel (learning to do the twist and to shake our booties) and announcing, “Watch Nonna, I’m gonna fly now” as we jump from 3 steps up and Nonna’s heart is temporarily arrested until the landing is obviously successful.
It’s Guini loving the most dangerous thing a one-year-old could love: neon-colored plastic jacks, which she likes to pull one by one from an old Quaker Oatmeal cannister and place on the floor and then immediately one by one they go back in. She actually squeals with delight as she pulls them out, dazzled over and over by the colors and we just watch her and she dazzles us.
It’s Hunter begging to be frightened again and again. He makes me put on the Darth Maul mask and chase him, but screams in utter terror when I truly surprise him and then lifts the mask to make sure: “Nonna?” Ok. Relief. It is just Nonna. Back to being chased. Then, time to cuddle and repeated requests to sing “Jingle-bells-all-the-way.” With Hunter, nothing is ever done once. If once was good, many times are better.
It’s Gavin “posing” me with a couple of stuffed animals as he cranks and adjusts Grandpa’s tripod, pretending there is a camera there. He tells me to wait “just one second” then instructs me, “Say cheese.” He squinches his eyes and I smile as he creates a clicking sound with his tongue and then he tilts his head and says, “Awwwwwe…” because I smiled so prettily. And as he thanks me for sitting still, I wish I were aiming a real camera back to capture this exact moment of pretend into which I was invited. And I force myself to see it deeply so I can never forget this February afternoon…
Being a mom was the most wonderful thing. Being a grandma, I am completely undone.”
It is proof beyond any possible reason: God is good and He rewards you even when you couldn’t possibly deserve it. I am so thankful to have had this little bit of cyber-real estate where I have captured the great record of His faithfulness and find reminders of the glorious color of love and life I have experienced so far…
Come back tomorrow. We’ll dig through the archives again! :)
Stephanie took pictures recently because the little red-headed Kelley kids (the three, sweet grandbebes bestowed upon me by Stephanie and Tristan…and thank-you for them, btw), all got new Converse All-Stars for Christmas and were sporting them simultaneously one afternoon.
Gemma~
Last Sunday morning 2-year-old Gemma accompanied me to the Cafe at church for coffee. The second we got out of The Garage (the edgy, loud worship venue), she darted across the cafe navigating her way in between hundreds of people, sharing her friendly, “hello”s with strangers and friends alike. She nearly ran right in to Pastor Rob, who avoided the near collision and greeted her like the treasured church member she is. He started to walk on past and then realized perhaps some one who is only 2 ft 9in would not be there alone.
So he looked around and saw me racing to catch up to her. “Are you in charge of this?” he asked, pointing the the little curly-headed girl-of-my-heart.
“I’m trying,” I told him.
“Well, then,” Rob had the guts to tell me, “I don’t mean to hurt your feelings, but you’re not very good at it.”
Oh, you just wait, Rob Kelly. You just wait!
But the piece de resistance? Once Gemma had strayed so far as to lose sight of me, she turned, scanning the crowd, looking for her Nonna. When we made eye contact, she did that thing she does. She did that adorable thing that melts my heart and makes me beam and makes me look good to the crowds.
She yells at the top of her lungs: N O N N A !!!! And she comes running to me and jumps into my arms and we spin around and hug and kiss.
Yep. She makes me look good…like I didn’t just lose her at church on a Sunday morning.
Gavin & Guinivere
Gavin started piano lessons this week. And Guini is in front of me this second with a microphone singing along to Pomplamooses’ version of “Single Ladies.” If you like it then you shoulda put a ring on it; If you like it then you shoulda put a ring on it…
The Kelley kids, whom I love with all my heart, were watching Ratatouille. The food critic in the movie said something like, “Not everyone can cook.” To which Gavin responded openly, “That isn’t true. Anyone can cook if they learn.’
Guini mustered up her strength and outdoor voice to add a very decided addendum (sort of Lucy-from-the-Peanuts-comics style?) which caused all of us to jump: BUT DON’T TOUCH THE PAN!
Twelve days “late,” she finally arrived in the wee hours this morning: Gemma May. Steph & Tris are the happy parents; Gavin and Guini, the delighted sibs. She’s 8 lbs. 6 oz. with down-soft red hair, and truly beautiful!
“Behold, thus shall the man be blessed who fears the Lord. The Lord bless you out of Zion…all the days of your life. Yes, may you see your children’s children… Psalm 128.4-6 NKJV
I hope everyone who reads this will have lots of granchildren for they are wondrous….Jeanie
NOTE TO SELF: Pray for this new new little girl for all the best God has to give!
It’s a trail of bright colored Play-Dough bits and crayon drawings of “piles of snow” and stickers and paint and Light-Saber battles with vacuum hoses and cookies and orange pop and more cookies and dancing to the Fiesta Latin music channel (learning to do the twist and to shake our booties) and announcing, “Watch Nonna, I’m gonna fly now” as we jump from 3 steps up and Nonna’s heart is temporarily arrested until the landing is obviously successful.
Guini
It’s Guini loving the most dangerous thing a one-year-old could love: neon-colored plastic jacks, which she likes to pull one by one from an old Quaker Oatmeal cannister and place on the floor and then immediately one by one they go back in. She actually squeals with delight as she pulls them out, dazzled over and over by the colors and we just watch her as she dazzles us.
Hunter
It’s Hunter begging to be frightened again and again. He makes me put on the Darth Maul mask and chase him, but screams in utter terror when I truly surprise him and then lifts the mask to make sure: “Nonna?” Ok. Relief. It is just Nonna. Back to being chased. Then, time to cuddle and repeated requests to sing “Jingle-bells-all-the-way.” With Hunter, nothing is ever done once. If once was good, many times are better.
Gavin
It’s Gavin “posing” me with a couple of stuffed animals as he cranks and adjusts Grandpa’s tripod, pretending there is a camera there. He tells me to wait “just one second” then instructs me, “Say cheese.” He squinches his eyes and I smile as he creates a clicking sound with his tongue and then he tilts his head head and says, “Awwwwwe...” because I smiled so prettily. And as he thanks me for sitting still, I wish I were aiming a real camera back to capture this exact moment of pretend into which I was invited. And I force myself to see it deeply so I can never forget this February afternoon…
Being a mom was the most wonderful thing. Being a Nonna, I am completely undone.
May you also know this joy! Blessings! Jeanie
NOTE TO SELF: I am feeling a strong urge to climb a fourteener just so I can scream out my gratitude to God for all He has given me, for how He has blessed me. Gavin, Guinivere and Hunter, my personal heritage from the LORD, how I love you!
