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Its a  puddles and rain dripping melodiously down the gutter kind of morning here and its Friday, the crescendo of the week...
And I'll begin this new day with this last word prompt from Lisa Jo Baker's blog - Begin....


She's always ready for beginnings, really more than anyone I know or have ever known. Except maybe me when I was her same age and looked at the world from that vantage point.
She's six and in the thick of childhood, but with a ticking clock that watches the sky for signals of the hours that have raced by.  Shadows like the hand of the clock.  Inside she runs into the kitchen and reads the neon stove clock heralding to me, "Its five, three, three." She announces urgently and I interpret, "Meredith, its five thirty-three."
She asks, "Is it almost night?"
I smile in the still several hours of mid summer glow, "No honey theres quite a while before nighttime."

Not that night time slows Meredith down either.  I think the first weeks with Meredith were premonitions of sleep that was never to come for me.  I remember the first time I zombie like rocked her all over the house and watched infomercials with bleary eyes just thinking of when sleep might come to claim me.
She's never been much of a sleeper and its a good thing I suppose (even thought my eyes would disagree) that I'm not much of one either.
At the age of two naps were a thing of the past and I can honestly say she has the sun shiny mood to not need one, I lamented it.  I had so enjoyed holding her during those once a day naps, but just as the wrapping paper of her two year old birthday presents got bagged, so did naps.
One crazy weekend shortly after turning four i had had it.  We unexpectedly had a group of teenage girls come to our house for the weekend and while the teenagers were out at youth retreat I told Meredith and her then two year old sissy, Madelyn, "Girls, you are taking a nap today".  In my mind I was thinking that I would definitely be a part of the nap equation.  I was firm about it and it was a day like today down and drizzly, where the sky provides built in black out curtains and you have no inner compass to tell you exactly what hour you are in...just plain ole dark gray....great nap weather.
Two hours later I remember waking up from this strange and foreign -to- me nap.
Meredith was up fast too and ran to the window, She peeled back the blinds and shoved her blue-green eyes in-between mournfully announcing to me, "Mama your nap made the day go away." 
That face made me almost cry.  Talk about mom guilt, my buttons had been pressed.  Just to see the sorrow on her little face, that somehow I had chased the sweet hours of the day let me catch a glimpse of just how important it was to her.
Now she is six, and i can honestly tell you I don't know if Meredith has ever taken another nap.  Unless going to sleep once or twice a year in a car counts. (of which she doesn't want to admit, but i have the pictures to prove).
She can stay up with the best of them and deep into the dark corners of the night and remain happy.  For a while I thought to myself, "I guess I know what teenagers are like."  Different drama of course, but lots of late nights.
Something that will always stay with me and that I try to treasure up in my heart are the amount of times she notices that the day is slipping away. She frequently looks to the sky and says, "Night time is almost here." or she will offer brightly, "Its not night time yet."
Last night we spent an afternoon with her grandma. It had been awhile.  Meredith hit the ground running as soon as she got there and when I came in the back yard she was sprawled out in a kids' wagon making her baby sister pull her 'carriage' around the grass as she pretended to be a princess.  She played multiple board games and painted her legs with coffee colored flecks as she kept running atop mulch mountains and yelling commands to the world.  Periwinkle clouds glazed the sky
eight -thirty and I could tell her poor grandma was about to run out of steam herself. The fireflies had already turned on their night lights.
"Girls, " I gathered up their things and tried fast to shuffle them to the car and relieve my mom of all her six and four year old hours of play. "Its time to go."
After rounding them up amid protests and securing them in I shut the doors and sped off into twilight.
Later as we all got home and sat outside on our front steps talking, Meredith informed me, "Its not night yet, mom." 
Sure enough I looked up at the sky and there it was, a band of orange amber still tinged the horizon line.
Sure enough, Meredith.
I smiled a big smile knowing that this observation brought her oh-so- much joy.
Theres something I love about that spirit, that spirit that is always rejoicing with the beginning of a day and never trying to hurry it along.  That spirit that is always trying to suck the marrow and fat out of every last second and every last ray of sunset before calling it done.
Its funny because Meredith is the hardest to get to go to bed, to surrender the day, to end; however, she is the first to be asleep... because her mind and body are finally still it happens almost immediately.
Her body just knows its got to catch up, because just as the sun winks pink over the horizon we better all gear up and be ready to begin again...
begin celebrating all the moments of this seemingly ordinary day with Meredith...
If God was looking for someone to appreciate, really dance in the joy of what a day brings, He's created it in Meredith. I think He smiles too over such enthusiasm and enjoys waking her up to watch it begin again.
Meredith, its about 8 o clock in this picture and no signs of slowing down! 


  1. the girl loves life, doesn't she ... you might get tired out, but she'll keep pouring her energy right back into you.

    sweet, sweet!

    1. She does Linda, and you are the moment she told me that "Its not night yet" I smiled in spite of myself who was ready to call it a day :) her enthusiasm dripped down into me again

  2. Oh my goodness! This is so gorgeous. What a story- and what a girl! Wow. I love how you told the story of the napless days and her ever looking to the sky and the clock to declare that it's not nighttime yet.
    Love how you said this:"That spirit that is always trying to suck the marrow and fat out of every last second and every last ray of sunset before calling it done."
    So beautifully written- and paints such a picture of your precious joy-filled girl!

    1. Thank you have so much to look forward to and I hope your little one does give you a little rest now and then :)


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