Choking on Leaves

Its days like today that I just want to sit and savor...

perfect golds. falling leaves. my favorite quilt in the backyard.

I sip a latte and nibble on sea-salted-caramels while Ransom crunches leaves with those chubby little hands.

Not long after capturing the moments above do I hear Ransom start to gag...not just gagging a little, but full on choking! I flip him over my knee as he throws up his lunch (at least 3 oz of milk!) and then do a quick finger sweep to find that he'd not just been eating pieces of leaves...he'd swallowed an entire leaf!

After making sure his airway was clear, we did a quick wardrobe change; Nay, I did a quick wardrobe change (he managed to spatter every layer of clothing I was wearing. What can I say, the kid's got skills) and there he was, right back at it...trying with all his little big being to make it back to the edge of the quilt where he could eat more leaves!

How often do I do the same thing?...stuff my face with things that will choke me. I'm not talking about physically stuffing my face to the point of choking (well, mostly I'm not talking about that...)

I'm talking about force-feeding my spirit and choking my soul on things that can and will rob life. For me, the leaves come in many colors, shapes, and sizes...

 "surfing the web" when my husband is sitting right next to me. We could be talking. We could be reading out loud together. We could be making out for Pete's sake! 

picking a fight when I could be giving those I love the benefit of the doubt

watching an episode (or four) of junk on Hulu when I could be playing with my son without the background noise

judging others for their shortcomings instead of acknowledging and encouraging their sucesses

endless scrolling of my Facebook newsfeed to see what my "friends" are up to when I could be writing a letter to one of them in real time...

Instead,  I crawl like a wild animal to the edge of my quilt and eat those leaves! Leaves that will choke me.

It scares me to think about how many times a day I race towards the edge of the quilt and eat leaves...like I can't (or is it that I choose?) not to remember the choking episode just moments earlier.

My daily prayer is that I'll remember the choking and I'll put down the leaves. And if I don't have the strength in me to do that today, that God in his grace will finger sweep my throat and set me back down again in the middle of the quilt.

He is good like that. Always saving me from myself and keeping me close by to care for me when I inevitably eat leaves again.

Thanks be to God.

Battered blooms. Brimming brews

Thunder storms on Lake Michigan are a force to be reckoned with. The neighbors' trash can barrels down the street as I look outside the window...mistaking the sound for thunder. But then I remember that thunder here is much louder. Like, stop-what-you're-doing-to-listen LOUDER. It echos off the sand dunes and rolls over you like a Mack Truck.

We planted a cutting garden late in the season this year. We're harvesting lovely zinnias and marigolds for small autumnal bouquets. I place them throughout the house in an attempt to invite the outside-in.

I desperately need the outside-in these days.

I know that, not long from now, we'll be blanketed in white and no green will grow on the outside.

My sunflowers had hopes of blooming soon. Now, I'm not so sure.

****

The house is still. The dishes are half-washed. Laundry is sorted and I just got a "stone-bruise" from one of Ransom's wooden blocks. At least I didn't spill my latte.

Oh, how I savor my morning latte.  Without it, my day feels as if its waiting to start. The comfort of this daily ritual grounds me, centers me, and reminds me of His mercies made new.

****

Ransom is growing and changing so fast, especially this past month. Its been my personal mission to put some meat on this kid. Phil says he is on the sumo-wrestlers' diet, gaining over 30% of his entire body weight THIS MONTH alone. My little guy is becoming a chunker. And I love it!

And then there is the development of his personality. Oh this kid! He chases his feet like a dog chases his tail. He ventures to danger zones, you know--stairs, live wires, nuts that have fallen on the floor--then he stops, looks at me and waits for me to say "NoooOH!" He squeals with excitement before launching himself forward towards said danger whole-heartedly. He is my reckless little honey-badger.

Independent and wild at heart, he still puts up with my constant nibbles and kisses. He giggles for days when I nibble his chiseled chin or his tiny toes.  I kiss him so hard sometimes he falls over. laughing. and gets back up for more!

****
The storm has calmed and the baby has risen. A new day, a new month, a new season is here. Colored leaves carpet the backyard where we will undoubtedly play later today.