A cuddle to make you feel better :0)
In your favourite "Bella-mina" (Ballerina) dress of course!
Showing posts with label MY CHILDREN. Show all posts
Showing posts with label MY CHILDREN. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
'cause sometimes all you need is.....
A cuddle to make you feel better :0)
In your favourite "Bella-mina" (Ballerina) dress of course!
Boo's Baby Bird
When I woke Bujana this morning she rubbed her tierd eyes and told me of the dream she had been having.
"I had a little egg that cracked open and out popped a little chick from it. The little chick thought I was it's mother because I fed it and gave it water and let it be free." But Mummy" she added a little sleepily, " I now need to go back to sleep so that I can find it before it flies away!"
"I had a little egg that cracked open and out popped a little chick from it. The little chick thought I was it's mother because I fed it and gave it water and let it be free." But Mummy" she added a little sleepily, " I now need to go back to sleep so that I can find it before it flies away!"
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Reflections on caring for a sick child....
I have just laid Matilda down for a rest. We have had a bad night, well it is now a couple of bad nights.
She has, over the last three weeks gone through two courses of antibiotics for recurring ear infections, from last night she is now on her third and strongest dose for a chest infection. I have been watching her most of the night as the medication is not bringing her temperature down properly and much of what medicine and fluid she does take she vomits. I fear that she has become somewhat resistant to the antibiotics as well. We took her to the hospital under advice of the GP, last night. They said she should come back in 48 hours if she isn't any better and that until the antibiotics have a chance to work the best place for her is at home. Part of me is relieved, part scared, am I doing everything right? A question that keeps rebounding round my mind.
So it has been a constant stream of tepid baths, mild camomile teas served in her beaker, cool flannels wiped over her body, stories, lullabies, medicine, vitamin pills and lastly an old remedy of egg whites in her socks which we used last night as a last ditch attmept to bring her temperature down from 40 after she had had all the doses of medicine we could give her. Remarkably, and I say this sincerly as I could not understand how such a strange remedy might possibly work it did actually bringt it down to 38.8 within 15 minutes!
I can only thank my husband's mother who, according to my husband is a " one woman natural pharmacuticul company" There have been many old remedies reccomended from her that I have been pursuaded to try ( such as applying salt on minor burns, underlining minor here, serious burns would need more conventional treatments of course) have you ever tried that though? I tell you it works!!! This is just one example of many may I add!
Looking at my Tilly's sweet face, peacfully sleeping here beside me my heart hurts.
There is a strange feeling of emotions stirring within me. One is fear, cold and clear. That primal, instinct that burns like a fever in itself, gnawing deep down. Shuddering both hot and cold. Yet there is also, strangly, a constant and peripheral sense of peace. Hovering over the heaving waters, that stream and break over me as I tend her. Somehow I 'm being shown in ways I don't truly understand that He is watching, He knows, He hears, He is near. I am so grateful for my faith at times like this, it is the most precious gift. It is times like this that it is really brought into clear relief for me to see. That by imersing myself in His Words, His Love, His Counsel even when I have not felt any immediate consolation is all a preperation for the parched times when I really need to drink deep. Somehow all these things store up in a well within, I think. Somehow I have always felt a profound sense of His presence as a comforter whenever there is illness in the children. I find illness in the children very hard to cope with at times, yet it is at these places, I find Him reaching out to me, His hand upon my shoulder, gentle, still, quietening my mind and my heart. I can't explain it other than there is an almost tangible sense of His presence in the room. This was especially true last night, when I lay next to Tilly, my hand stroking her hair, listening to her breath against me. Her lips scarlet, her face pale, her body like a little hot water bottle simmering under the single cotton sheet.
She was asleep, but her eyes opened once in a while, almost as if she were checking that I was still there. "I'm still here sweetie. Mummy's got you" words almost prayed, in the tepid light.
And she smiled. In her sleep she caught me with her and she smiled. And then another emotion swelled up and rolled over me. One of complete gratitude. I was so thankful that I could be priveliged enough to care for her when she needed me most. That I could be there for her, even as she slept. These moments in a way were a gift to me that brought out everything that matters most into the light, even in the darkness of this bedroom surrounded by sticky medicine syringes, tissue paper, wet flannels and beakers of water and chamomile tea.
And then still something more began to sink into the ebb and flow of my thoughts. Something that made me see with a sudden chill of perspective.
I began to think of all the little ones in this world right now who have no one to wipe their brow or lie down beside them as they sleep, or read them stories to distract them from their discomfort, or rock them gently with a lullaby, over and over and over again till their eyelids droop and their shivering bodies surrender into a healing bath of sleep.
Little ones that have no medicine at all to bring them through endless feverish nights.
And then I prayed, not just for my sweet Tilly but for all the children who are sick in the world right now. Tilly will recover from this bought of sickness, yet for some children in other lands, far from the shores of medical centres, hospitals, new treatments and loving arms, there is no recovery, even for the simplest of illnesses.
And that is an ache I cannot heal within me, because it shouldn't be there. I think He puts the ache there to help me remember this. So I pray, because it is the only medicine I have for this ache.
Dear Lord,
Please be the rocking arms,
The gentle hand,
The cool towel, The soft song,
Be the,
Comforter,
For all who suffer,
Both within and without.
The child with the fever,
The mother with the fire of fear in her heart,
The little one whom no one
watches over,
May Yours be the face
That they see
When they open their eyes
in the empty darkness
Of soft sleep
May Yours be the face,
That they see.
The hands that will touch,
That will heal and
restore,
and renew.
In the morning light.
In Jesus's name
Amen.
She has, over the last three weeks gone through two courses of antibiotics for recurring ear infections, from last night she is now on her third and strongest dose for a chest infection. I have been watching her most of the night as the medication is not bringing her temperature down properly and much of what medicine and fluid she does take she vomits. I fear that she has become somewhat resistant to the antibiotics as well. We took her to the hospital under advice of the GP, last night. They said she should come back in 48 hours if she isn't any better and that until the antibiotics have a chance to work the best place for her is at home. Part of me is relieved, part scared, am I doing everything right? A question that keeps rebounding round my mind.
So it has been a constant stream of tepid baths, mild camomile teas served in her beaker, cool flannels wiped over her body, stories, lullabies, medicine, vitamin pills and lastly an old remedy of egg whites in her socks which we used last night as a last ditch attmept to bring her temperature down from 40 after she had had all the doses of medicine we could give her. Remarkably, and I say this sincerly as I could not understand how such a strange remedy might possibly work it did actually bringt it down to 38.8 within 15 minutes!
I can only thank my husband's mother who, according to my husband is a " one woman natural pharmacuticul company" There have been many old remedies reccomended from her that I have been pursuaded to try ( such as applying salt on minor burns, underlining minor here, serious burns would need more conventional treatments of course) have you ever tried that though? I tell you it works!!! This is just one example of many may I add!
Looking at my Tilly's sweet face, peacfully sleeping here beside me my heart hurts.
There is a strange feeling of emotions stirring within me. One is fear, cold and clear. That primal, instinct that burns like a fever in itself, gnawing deep down. Shuddering both hot and cold. Yet there is also, strangly, a constant and peripheral sense of peace. Hovering over the heaving waters, that stream and break over me as I tend her. Somehow I 'm being shown in ways I don't truly understand that He is watching, He knows, He hears, He is near. I am so grateful for my faith at times like this, it is the most precious gift. It is times like this that it is really brought into clear relief for me to see. That by imersing myself in His Words, His Love, His Counsel even when I have not felt any immediate consolation is all a preperation for the parched times when I really need to drink deep. Somehow all these things store up in a well within, I think. Somehow I have always felt a profound sense of His presence as a comforter whenever there is illness in the children. I find illness in the children very hard to cope with at times, yet it is at these places, I find Him reaching out to me, His hand upon my shoulder, gentle, still, quietening my mind and my heart. I can't explain it other than there is an almost tangible sense of His presence in the room. This was especially true last night, when I lay next to Tilly, my hand stroking her hair, listening to her breath against me. Her lips scarlet, her face pale, her body like a little hot water bottle simmering under the single cotton sheet.
She was asleep, but her eyes opened once in a while, almost as if she were checking that I was still there. "I'm still here sweetie. Mummy's got you" words almost prayed, in the tepid light.
And she smiled. In her sleep she caught me with her and she smiled. And then another emotion swelled up and rolled over me. One of complete gratitude. I was so thankful that I could be priveliged enough to care for her when she needed me most. That I could be there for her, even as she slept. These moments in a way were a gift to me that brought out everything that matters most into the light, even in the darkness of this bedroom surrounded by sticky medicine syringes, tissue paper, wet flannels and beakers of water and chamomile tea.
And then still something more began to sink into the ebb and flow of my thoughts. Something that made me see with a sudden chill of perspective.
I began to think of all the little ones in this world right now who have no one to wipe their brow or lie down beside them as they sleep, or read them stories to distract them from their discomfort, or rock them gently with a lullaby, over and over and over again till their eyelids droop and their shivering bodies surrender into a healing bath of sleep.
Little ones that have no medicine at all to bring them through endless feverish nights.
And then I prayed, not just for my sweet Tilly but for all the children who are sick in the world right now. Tilly will recover from this bought of sickness, yet for some children in other lands, far from the shores of medical centres, hospitals, new treatments and loving arms, there is no recovery, even for the simplest of illnesses.
And that is an ache I cannot heal within me, because it shouldn't be there. I think He puts the ache there to help me remember this. So I pray, because it is the only medicine I have for this ache.
Dear Lord,
Please be the rocking arms,
The gentle hand,
The cool towel, The soft song,
Be the,
Comforter,
For all who suffer,
Both within and without.
The child with the fever,
The mother with the fire of fear in her heart,
The little one whom no one
watches over,
May Yours be the face
That they see
When they open their eyes
in the empty darkness
Of soft sleep
May Yours be the face,
That they see.
The hands that will touch,
That will heal and
restore,
and renew.
In the morning light.
In Jesus's name
Amen.
Friday, December 26, 2008
My Bujana Grace
The name Bujana comes from an ancient illyrian river running between Albania and Kosovo ( now called the Buna).
It flows through Shkodra, the town where Tani was born, toward it's end in the turquoise tides of the Mediteranean sea.
Bujana's second name is Grace.
How telling a name can be! Bujana, our little daughter has been a flow of grace in our lives since the day she was born December 26th Boxing day 2003!!!
The best Christmas present I have ever had, I have to say :0)
The grace she brings to us undulates, trembles, springs, refreshes, rushes, twists, turns, meanders and bubbles with life and joy.
Bujana's second name is Grace.
How telling a name can be! Bujana, our little daughter has been a flow of grace in our lives since the day she was born December 26th Boxing day 2003!!!
The best Christmas present I have ever had, I have to say :0)
The grace she brings to us undulates, trembles, springs, refreshes, rushes, twists, turns, meanders and bubbles with life and joy.
This is our "lil Boo".
Full of life, filled to the brim with exuberance.
When she was born the first thing I noticed about her was her sweet almond shaped brown eyes and her sticky out ears!
At night Tani would often seranade her by playing a little lullaby on the guitar. She always loved music so much and would often respond to it by moving her arms, clapping or babbling along.
Full of life, filled to the brim with exuberance.
When she was born the first thing I noticed about her was her sweet almond shaped brown eyes and her sticky out ears!
At night Tani would often seranade her by playing a little lullaby on the guitar. She always loved music so much and would often respond to it by moving her arms, clapping or babbling along.
She has always loved music just like her Daddy.
We couldn't belive it when she started to talk at a year using full sentances!
By 16 months she was already negotiating and barganing deals by asking for
We couldn't belive it when she started to talk at a year using full sentances!
By 16 months she was already negotiating and barganing deals by asking for
"doclat 'uttons" ( chocolate buttons) whenever she had been particularly obediant!
(What can I say? She's her Mummies girl lol ;)
Once she reached a year and a half she had even started to argue back!
Whenever she was asked to sit at the naughty step for being the cheeky little monkey we've come to know and love, she would simply say...
"But I'm only a baby" In her sweetest most innocent voice.
She is a little character.
Her personality is so strong and individual.
But what I love most about our Boo is her heart. She has a heart of pure gold!
She loves her sisters to bits and cares beautifully for the baby. She adores her animals and cries whenever her sisters hurt themselves. She even talks to the insects and plants in the garden with a gentle , soothing voice and always makes sure her baby doll has a blankie (blanket) before she goes to sleep!
At Easter I was telling the girls the story of Jesus and reading passages from the bible.
When I looked up at the end of the reading I saw Boo staring at her little hands resting upon her lap, silent tears rolling down her cheeks.
" I love Jesus so much" she said.
" I don't ever want him to be hurt Mummy"
She always says a lovley prayer before bed when she asks God to care for all the people she loves because "they are so lovley to me"
And then she asks God to help her be a good little girl before thanking him for " the beautiful world with all the lovley creatures"
She has a beautiful little heart!
Sometimes she reminds me of a little bear cub with her brown curls and eyes, her chubby cheeks and little round, button nose, all curled up in a chair with her etcha sketch or a story book with lots of pictures.
When I look at it it's true. Grace and miracles were something she brought us as a gift from heaven when she was born.
If she were a flower she would be a wild poppy.
Red, lively, joyful, bright, cheery, delecate, soft, rare. A real Splash of colour.
She paints patterns all over the blue sky. Like drops of water mixed with sunshine. She is a rainbow!
I love my Boo.
Once she reached a year and a half she had even started to argue back!
Whenever she was asked to sit at the naughty step for being the cheeky little monkey we've come to know and love, she would simply say...
"But I'm only a baby" In her sweetest most innocent voice.
She is a little character.
Her personality is so strong and individual.
But what I love most about our Boo is her heart. She has a heart of pure gold!
She loves her sisters to bits and cares beautifully for the baby. She adores her animals and cries whenever her sisters hurt themselves. She even talks to the insects and plants in the garden with a gentle , soothing voice and always makes sure her baby doll has a blankie (blanket) before she goes to sleep!
At Easter I was telling the girls the story of Jesus and reading passages from the bible.
When I looked up at the end of the reading I saw Boo staring at her little hands resting upon her lap, silent tears rolling down her cheeks.
" I love Jesus so much" she said.
" I don't ever want him to be hurt Mummy"
She always says a lovley prayer before bed when she asks God to care for all the people she loves because "they are so lovley to me"
And then she asks God to help her be a good little girl before thanking him for " the beautiful world with all the lovley creatures"
She has a beautiful little heart!
Sometimes she reminds me of a little bear cub with her brown curls and eyes, her chubby cheeks and little round, button nose, all curled up in a chair with her etcha sketch or a story book with lots of pictures.
When I look at it it's true. Grace and miracles were something she brought us as a gift from heaven when she was born.
If she were a flower she would be a wild poppy.
Red, lively, joyful, bright, cheery, delecate, soft, rare. A real Splash of colour.
She paints patterns all over the blue sky. Like drops of water mixed with sunshine. She is a rainbow!
I love my Boo.
And Christmas wil always be extra special because it's her birthday too :0)
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Our angel as "The Angel"
Waiting in the wings for her grand entrace as the Angel Gabriel.
Placing the baby in Mary's arms as the narrator says : " And the angel being come in, said unto her: Hail, full of grace, the Lord is with thee: blessed art thou among women. "
Bless her heart! She had to hold her arms up all the way through "It was on a Starry Night" She did it with a smile on her sweet face too :0) That's my girl!
Singing "Away in a Manger, with all her little angel friends.
Thee Ende ~
Monday, December 08, 2008
Days of Winter
I was hoping to upload these a couple of days back but we have all been suffering the effects of winter coughs 'n' colds and other ugly bugs!) So we have been spending time watching far to many family christmas movies for our own good and drinking down lots of honey and lemon tea ( we've gone through three jars!!! over the last couple of weeks.
Anyway as they say a picture ( or ten) speaks a thousand words and as I've pretty much lost my voice anyway I'm liking the sound of silence right now :0)
Peace and Blessings to all :0)
Monday, December 01, 2008
Oh Christmas Tree, Oh Christmas Tree
Let Me Not Keep Christmas . . . . . . . .
"Let me not wrap, stack, box, bag, tie, tag, bundle, seal, keep Christmas.
Christmas kept is liable to mold.
Let me give Christmas away, unwrapped, by exuberant armfuls. Let me share, dance, live Christmas unpretentiously, merrily, responsibly with overflowing hands, tireless steps and sparkling eyes.
Christmas given away will stay fresh—even until it comes again."
Christmas kept is liable to mold.
Let me give Christmas away, unwrapped, by exuberant armfuls. Let me share, dance, live Christmas unpretentiously, merrily, responsibly with overflowing hands, tireless steps and sparkling eyes.
Christmas given away will stay fresh—even until it comes again."
Linda Felver
Emmy's song lyrics... ( The one she is playing in the picture ;0)
*
Lord, I need you here with me,
In the morning, noon and night,
Even in the depths of my dreams.
*
Lord I need you here with me,
Even when I feel I'm strong.
I am still a child in your arms.
*
Take me, Take me,
Where your star shines in the night.
Wake me, Wake me,
Bring me to the morning light.
*
*
*
William Cullen Bryant:
"O Father may that Holy Star
"O Father may that Holy Star
grow every year more bright,
And send its glorious beams afar
To fill the world with light."
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Collecting Scraps
John Muir:
Let children walk with Nature, let them see the beautiful blendings and communions of death and life, their joyous inseparable unity, as taught in woods and meadows, plains and mountains and streams of our blessed star, and they will learn that death is stingless indeed, and as beautiful as life.
Blaise Pascal
The least movement is of importance to all nature. The entire ocean is affected by a pebble.
J. Lubbuck:
Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under trees on a summer's day, listening to the murmur of the water, or watching the clouds float across the sky is by no means a waste of time.
-
We have been collecting Scraps....Simple words of thanks, for simple joys. This is a child's way of communion. Pieced together into a Sunday afternoon scrapbook. Pages filled with the wonderment of details. Stiched together, little by little. From the details in nature, to the familiar ways of those dear and close, or the well worn pages of a well loved book sitting cheerily uptop a pile of even more upon the table. Scraps woven together by strong, stitches. Stitches, hand sown with love and care. By His hand.
For this is a gift He gives. A gift that transcends circumstance. A simple gift for all who Hope in Him. A binding of thankfulness. A prayer that weaves in and out of the din and the clatter and the noise just in the same way as it does the peace, of silence and the glinting of icy sunlight between the branches of winter trees.
Scraps of fabric woven together to make a life. Piece by piece. A life for Him, with Him and through Him.Fragments of beauty, love, joy, memories, voices, dreams, green grass, laughter, songs, sunlight, quiet rain, falling leaves and budding blossoms.
With a thankful heart ready to embrace a love that can turn all things to grace.
And Why not visit lovely Ann's lovely peaceful place for gentle encouragment and inspiration. And many others who are walking in the way of thankfulness over at the GratitudeCommunity...
Saturday, November 22, 2008
pIECES Of oUR daY
As the brittle and stark days of winter leave trees bare against granite skies. Emmy captures the last blinking glimpses, lingering gazes and fading traces of Autumntime.Here is our day through her eyes.
With the pictures she found.
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A sycamore leaf surfaces from the birdbath.
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Early morning shivers, blue and crisp as any day in early spring might.
Clouds rustle against the trembling edges of emerald green Bayleaves.
*
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*
*
*
*
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Details, flutter, pause, wonder, glint. Unassumingly. Washing the days in their own colours. Defining the hours, with their own outlines. 
As afternoon wanes, birds chirrup amongst the naked branches of a sycamore tree.
Emmy's candle made of the leftover's of candles, a glass ramakin, some essential rose oil and... Glitter...of course! Will it be lit today? Or saved for tommorrow :0)
Books undercovers! A few favourites ready for an evening read with little ones.
*
Lot's of "helpers" making a mess, *ahem* I mean a set of birdfeeders of course!
And here is what you will need, so Emmy tells me:
- 2 and a half cups of wild bird seed.
- half a cup of raisins
- 1 packet of lard
- Lots of wiggly. wriggly messmakers!
- 4 sturdy twigs donated by a kindly nearby tree
- 8 pieces of garden string
- A dust pan and brush and a nice big bowl of soapy water for the floor afterward ;0)
One last picture to share as the pieces of our day scatter gently to the earth like the last of the Autumn leaves. ~
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