So I’ve read either one or two of the love languages books (I know I’ve read the one about decoding your child’s love language–but I can’t remember if I’ve read the adult one!); anyhoo, in the process of reading, I discovered I speak the lamest, most ridiculous love language out there.
What language is that, might you ask? Gifts. I speak the love language of gifts. Against all of my anti-materialistic aspirations and my whole-hearted desire to forsake things for a deeper spiritual life, I face the bleak reality that my love language is rooted in things. It’s ironic, sad, and expensive.
But today I decided to speak my love language to Clarissa. It is sort of convenient because after Ammon, Abe and I thought we were done with kids, and so I gave away every single baby-girl item I owned. Every onesie, dress, pajama, cloth diaper, changing table, bassinet, newborn Halloween costume…everything. I have almost nothing for Clarissa.
Or had. After today, I have a lot of stuff! And I hope Clarissa feels the love. I tried to send her love messages in between online ordering clicks. You are loved. You are wanted. I want to meet you. I know you belong in this family. I love you. That sort of thing. I guess I also speak the words of affirmation language. It’s so much cheaper, and I sincerely wish it were my primary language.
Also, I have gotten so lazy about pictures. I have resolved to do better tomorrow. The thing is, I have started Instagramming all of my pictures as soon as I take them, and at the end of the day it is such a hassle to try to get the pics on the blog too.
The pictures I am sad I haven’t posted relate to the following things:
- Abe has been teaching Lydia to ride a bike! He was a superstar Saturday. After making the kids one of his signature breakfasts, he brought them to the pool, taught Lydia how to ride a bike, helped clean the house, helped my mom make dinner and a million other things.
- This is a picture I wish I had taken and will ask Abe to take tomorrow. Ammon can ride a scooter all by himself!!!! We are astonished. Our daughters have been…challenged…in the physical coordination department. Meanwhile, one year old Ammon is scootering all around the block and up and down everyone’s driveways. We will get a picture soon.
- I have some pictures of all the crocheting I have been doing. I studied the afghan my great-grandmother made, and I have been practicing her granny square pattern with all of my cheap acrylic yarn in preparation to imitate hers with wool yarn. After all of the money I spent today, I am going to try to hold out for a minute before going and buying more yarn. But I have been loving crocheting–and knitting again, finally!!– on bedrest. This activity makes me feel connected with my maternal line. My mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother are terrific with the domestic arts. My mother knitted and embroidered beautifully (much better than I ever have or could) when younger, my grandmother did everything to perfection, and my great-grandmother made the most beautiful blankets and quilts. I also feel connected to my Aunt Lydia, who made the most beautiful embroidery I have ever seen. The first time I encountered her work, I thought I was looking at a painting–her stitches were that fine! I love participating in these traditions and passing them down to my kids. It all feels very meaningful, cozy and familial.