Of Yet Another Birthday

I had a friend tell me recently she greatly anticipates my posts on my kids' birthdays. I didn't even realize it was a thing I had done consistently, but looking back at my posts from February 12 (from 2014 and 2013 - even this one from the day before his first birthday!), sure enough. So, there's nothing like a newfound pressure of knowing someone is anticipating this post, but I'll do what I can.

Sure enough, it's been three years. And I don't even know where to start. Because reading those past birthday posts, I'd have to say, yep, he's pretty much the same.

He's still our little trouble-maker with the cutest face that gets us all in trouble. Because it's hard to be frustrated with a kid that looks up at you with big eyes and says, "I want to 'nuggle with you," even though he should be in bed. And that giggle - don't even get me started on that precious giggle that digs right down from his gut.

It's true what they say, about every child being different. And this guy, he's our tough one. Or maybe our laidback one - the one that takes what life gives him and just lets it slide. He's happy with what he's been given and rolls with the punches. I've honestly never seen this kid throw a tantrum and he only gets downright angry if a sibling is being unfair to him or if he's being disciplined for one of his many mischievous antics.

He says silly things just to watch us giggle and he covers his face when he knows he's being ridiculous. He has a strong shy streak that causes him to shut down if a stranger asks a question (not necessarily a bad quality), and, when he does so, very little will coax him out. Because once he's made a decision, he sticks with it. If he begs for dessert and then decides he's done two bites in, no amount of reverse pyschology will convince him otherwise. I taunt him by pretending to take a bite, and he shoves it right toward me, as if to say, "You go ahead. I said I'm done and I'm done."

He is our first easy potty trainer. I hesitated to ever announce we had started the process with him, because for his siblings, it seemed it never ended. In fact, he keeps his nap-time diaper clean and dry while his older brother still couldn't care less. And every time, I want to give him the biggest hug ever, because potty training has been the most horrible battle of my parenting career.

This kid is going to be a star at life - because when he has decided to succeed at something, he will do so. We have a challenge ahead of us to funnel that determined spirit in the right direction, but I look forward to seeing where it takes him.

As I "nuggled" with our little Joseph this evening after the lights were out - a rare treat for the birthday boy - I marveled at his tiny, yet big little body. This boy, this growing little person, came from my womb. He would not have existed were it not for the love between his daddy and I - he was shaped and formed in my own body and it is our privilege to raise him - to care for him, kiss his owies, snuggle his sweet face and tickle his little belly.

There's no greater reason to celebrate than that.

Of the Ways They Interrupt

Every morning (or as best fits into the day's schedule) we read an excerpt from The Jesus Storybook Bible, after Momma has finished her eggs and while the kids continue to munch on their cereal. We've cycled through the story of God's people a few times by now, and each time we finish, we just come right back to The Beginning.

Today was the most serious of the readings. The Crucifixion.

As I read about how He carried his cross and the soldiers mocked him, trying my best, with my voice, to portray the gravity of the moment, each of my children clamored for my attention. Emmett, sitting closest, placed his hand gently on my arm. Joseph shot his arm in the air, Micaiah's hand also stood raised.

I finished the page and turned the book to show the pictures as I addressed them each in turn.

"Yes, Emmett?" I acknowledged his gentle waiting hand.

"Um, in the song, they call it a 'tree' - or, I mean, in the story at church. And, um, also . . . Not now, but on the next page, I mean the next chapter it's coming, they're going to put Him in the Tomb."

"That's right, Emmett. What did you need Micaiah?"

"Um, I think we should go Me, Emmett and Joseph to pray for breakfast, lunch and dinner." That's right, before the story started, the kids had been arguing over who would pray for the meal, just as always.

"Micaiah, it is up to Mommy and Daddy to decide who will pray and when. You will not make a chart or set a schedule. We will decide for whatever reasons we choose."

She pouts and I turn to Joseph, still waiting with his arm up.

"Yes, Joseph?"

"Um, Jesus - monkeys like bananas!"

"Yes, yes they do."

Those are my children in a nutshell. Emmett, the sponge - always listening, soaking things in, making connections and asking questions. Micaiah, the planner - with a solution to every problem and a plan to make things right (what else from the girl who arrived on her due date - right on schedule). Joseph, well, Joseph.

Man, I love these kids.

Of His Second Birthday

It was two years ago that our youngest boy made his frantic and harrowing arrival into this world. Two years ago that I gave birth on my bedroom floor to the little baby without a name and snuggled him close, not at all disappointed not to have had the baby sister Micaiah had insisted was coming.

And that kid.

I wish I could describe him accurately, but words won't do him justice. If you could just spend a day or two with this child, you would see what I mean.

You'd see the way he lights up a room with his ever-present grin. He is truly the most expressive and joyful child we have had - and considering the other two weren't terribly cranky kids, that's saying something. (Even his most recent exclamation of "Ew, yucky!" as we change his diaper accompanies an appropriate facial expression of disgust.) The way he says, "Tank ou" every time anything is given to him - and will repeat it ("Tank ou, Momma. Tank ou, Momma. Momma, tank ou!") until he is told he is welcome. And, of course, he responds with the same courtesy, "Welcome!" with pointed politeness whenever gratitude is expressed to him.

You'd see how he puckers his precious lips whenever Momma asks for a kiss, or how she doesn't even have to ask often, because he offers them freely to everyone. In fact, you'd melt at the kisses he blows EVERY time he tells someone bye, bye or the way he has to run to the other bedroom for hugs and kisses with brother and sissy every night before bed, scampering off yelling, "Tisses, Caiah!" And the way they greet him eagerly, often falling over giggling mid-hug, just as happy with the night-time ritual as he is.

You would think it was adorable the way he runs to the garage door whenever he hears the car pull in, yelling, "Daddy home!" waiting for his hug, or even the way he asks every morning, "Daddy?" as I change his diaper, hoping it's not a work day. But that doesn't mean Mommy doesn't get any appreciation. If I've stepped out for a run to the grocery store, I get to see his happy face as soon as I come through the door, while he's tugging on Daddy, "Momma home! Momma home!" He definitely knows how to make us feel loved.

You'd probably also get to see his ornery streak - the side that snatches a toy from his siblings and runs away with glee, not necessarily because he wanted it, but because he knows they did. Or the angry glare he shoots at anyone who dare suggest he relinquish the pilfered play-thing and then the pouty reluctance with which he offers it back to the child in question.

You would definitely appreciate his eagerness to help. If he sees trash, he holds it up to confirm, "Tash?" and then dashes on his little toddler legs to dutifully place it in the proper receptacle. If we're cooking, he'll pull up a stool to help or run to the cabinet where his dishes are kept to find a plate, fork or cup (or all of the above). And if we're dishing out snack, he'll serve his brother and sister their snack cups before he accepts his own.

And even after noticing all the above, you'd be surprised just how many times a day you won't be able to help saying, "He's just so cute!" because it really is surprising just how many ways it shines through. You kind of want to give him a big hug all the time - unless he's getting into something he shouldn't just about every time you turn your back. Then you'll curse his blessed cuteness because it's just so hard to want to discipline that face.

I can't believe he's only been here two years and I wish I could freeze time, because I just love his tender and spirited personality and I wish I could frame it and keep it forever.

So, happy birthday to this guy - one of the many reasons I smile.

Of Our Non-Expendable Brood

As we await the long-coming arrival of Baby #4 to our growing flock, I recognize we have crossed a threshold - in fact, we crossed it back in 2011, when our youngest had just turned one, our oldest was still yet two and we learned our third was on the way, the point at which the question on everyone's lips subtly changes to, "So, are you planning to have more?" to "So, do you think you're done?"

And whether real or imagined, there is a definitive sense of judgment in our culture toward those populating the earth with more than the allotted 2.5 children. Sometimes I feel the weight of those questioning eyes, with my burgeoning belly and three little ones scurrying underfoot as we head to the library or the grocery store.

Yet, I watch my children playing, all seated together on the floor engrossed in a book or huddled into the plastic Fisher Price tree house out back, and as I melt in their large brown eyes I ask myself this question, "Which of these would I give up so as to have a socially acceptable amount of off-spring?"

Would it be the fiery strawberry blonde? Maybe it would have been nice to have waited just a little longer before starting our family - more time for my husband and I to have to ourselves as 'just us' before taking the deeper plunge from marriage into family. We could have traveled. We could have indulged in couple time and spare change. But then, where would our boys be without their big sister to lead the way? And who would impress me with the compassion she shows for others or her aptness for learning?

Or maybe it would be that middle one. Perhaps it would have been nice to have that longer gap - breathing room between Micaiah and Joey? But then, what would I do without my sweetly sensitive, yet rough and tumble little boy with that insatiable curiosity? And with whom would Micaiah have "camp-overs" in the living room or play hide-and-seek throughout the house? Joey isn't quite old enough for that, yet.

Well, then there's that, maybe we'd just give up that youngest one. He doesn't do much to contribute to the family, yet. Perhaps we could have enjoyed those first two a little longer if we'd spaced it out a tad. But, then, whose mischievous grin would break my stressful days? Or who would climb in my lap every time I sat on the floor to be with the other two?  Who would stand next to me in the kitchen, waiting to help, as I prepare meals? Who would offer Emmett the joy of having a brother and future games of cowboys and Indians or catch in the yard?

Then again, maybe we should have just been done after three. That's a perfectly acceptable number. But then, what would I do, on those long days, without the refreshing kicks, tiny reminders of life inside and the purpose I hold? Where would be that hope of a baby sister for our eldest - something of which she has long dreamed?

Where would we be, as a family, if any one of us were missing - had never even existed? Perhaps we'd be just fine. But seeing where we are now, I wouldn't have it any other way. I know God has formed our family perfectly, and I have a strong sense he's not finished with us yet. Which is just fine - because he seems to have done a wonderful job of putting just the right tiny souls into our wonderful little mix at just the right times.  Perhaps not every family is meant for this kind of blossoming - their perfect number may be smaller than ours - but I am so grateful for all we have been given, and all that is yet to come.

Of Joey's New Favorite Celebration

In case you didn't know, last week was Halloween. Having grown up trick-or-treating (yes, I was the teenager knocking on doors through high school with the ever-ready response to the obvious question, "You're never too old for free candy" - and I still stick by that, though I don't carry my own bucket, sadly) with a husband who had never trick-or-treated in his life (apparently the children of preachers and missionaries only celebrate Halloween if it's called "Fall" and it's done at the church - because that's when costumes and candy become holy) we have often debated on how to pass this inevitable evening. And we've taken varied approaches each year.

This year after celebrating at the church's fall festival Sunday night, and spooking the dorm of the local university Tuesday night, I wondered what we would actually do on Halloween night. Because I'm too stingy to pour out money on candy to give to other children (though our daughter does love answering the door, so maybe I should have taken that into consideration) and it's hard to just sit by and miss out on what others are doing.

So I convinced my holy husband to allow our children to haunt the street - just our one little street - for the night.

The kids had no idea what they were in for. Especially Emmett, who continued to whine at the plan, "I don't want to walk up and down our street!" Trust me, kid, I thought, you're gonna love it.

And he did. As we meandered home with full buckets at the slowed pace evoked by an hour or so of knocking and walking, I asked him, "Are you glad we walked up and down the street?" "Yeah."

But the biggest fan of the evening was little Joey. After our two previous costumed bag/bucket carrying events earlier in the week, he knew what was coming. I dress funny, I carry this and people give me candy. He was so ready.

Our Little Lumberjack

It took about two houses before he had the routine and he would wiggle himself out of our arms, dash to the door on which sissy had already politely tapped (shy Emmett always hanging behind the others just a little) and bang his little fist. Mommy would then have to pull him back so the poor candy-giver inside could even open the door and then, if it was in reach, that tiny fist was in the candy bowl, no questions asked.  Sometimes he hollered a courtesy "Or-teet" - which was about all he could muster of the famous phrase - before diving in. Sometimes the occupant was a little more cautious (understandably so) with the loot and would simply hand him a bar or two of chocolately goodness, which he would grasp and then stare as he waited for more. Then, after giving the obligatory, "Tank oo", he would drop it in the bucket hanging from his arm and turn, running, ready for the next stop.

And that little guy raced up and down our street - seriously, those little legs pounded the pavement for a full half-mile without wearing down.

Yeah, I'd say he's discovered his new favorite holiday. Then again, I doubt he remembers last December, so I'm pretty sure he has an even bigger surprise in store.

Happy Fall from our Crazy Crew!

Of a Morning at the Movies

A few years ago I started seeing advertisements on various money-saving blogs for a summer movie series that various theaters across the country do - one children's movie a week, during the day, at a wonderfully reduced rate. Yes, they're old releases, but who doesn't love watching a movie on the big screen? Of course, I've come to realize with small(-ish) town living that the terms "regional" or "select theaters" generally rule us out. And such has been the case since I first learned of this summery movie extravaganza.

Not so this year, my friends. Not so this year.

This year our town joins the ranks, screening various children's favorites for only $4 - sure it's not free as others do, but the price of admission includes popcorn, a drink and fruit snacks. You won't hear any complaining about that from our kids (especially since they're not paying for it).

As soon as I caught wind of the excitement to come, I loaded up my calendar - each and every Thursday morning screening is prominently labeled, so I'll know which days we need to be lining up at the ticket counter.

Yesterday was the first of these much-anticipated days.

I loaded up the kids - a little concerned about how Joey would do, but also recognizing I was going to a movie theater at 10am to watch an animated movie everyone probably already owned on DVD - I doubted a squawky toddler would receive much attention. I knew I'd have my hands full, but it's not like I'm completely clueless at this point when it comes to toting around three children under the age of five.

I've got this.

What I forgot to factor in was toting around three children under the age of five (one on my hip) and three kids' boxes filled with popcorn and soda cups to spring-loaded theater seats not equipped for the meager weight of pre-schoolers and the inability to take bathroom breaks with the above mentioned munchkins and their snacks.

Let's just say, I have quite a few mental notes of how to do it better next time. These include not handing Emmett his popcorn tray until he has figured out how not to get scrunched by the chair, not arriving early so as to cut down on the time needed to hold a 15-month-old's attention (well, and just plain hold him - especially when he's using all his squirmy might to escape to the floor) and not having to share my (aka the baby's) popcorn with older brother (which includes a side-note of making sure his doesn't get spilled) - because when the popcorn is gone, so is that fidgety baby boy.

All things considered, we all had a fairly enjoyable morning. Joey finally resolved himself to the fact that Mommy wasn't letting go (no matter how good the popcorn on the floor looked) and, thumb in his mouth, settled his tiny head on my arm. Emmett learned how to hold his seat in place and made sure to point out to me all the parts that were funny. Micaiah leaned over at one point, to snuggle with Momma, and had a great time laughing when the other kids laughed (even if she didn't always get the joke).

The kids and I agreed, a morning at the movies is definitely not a bad way to pass the summer time.

Of Facing their Fears

While most children would jump up and down (pun so entirely intended) at Mommy and Daddy's surprise of spending the morning leaping on inflatable mazes and slides (albeit, not quite as exciting as Paris or the zoo, which were Micaiah's guesses), our children tend to be a little more anxious than most.  

In Emmett's defense, Saturday morning's excursion was his first experience with a bouncy house, so some trepidation is understandable.  But when a kid only the day before announced, "Look, Mommy!  I'm standing on the moon!" while perched on the arm of the loveseat, and proceeded with, "I'm jumping on the moon!" while flailing himself on the cushions, one might reasonably assume he'd more thrilled to be able to perform such actions with permission this time.  Apparently one would be wrong.

His sister took some warming up, as well, but by the time she discovered new "friends" (some legit, from church, and some brand new to her, but everyone is always welcome), she was running through the maze with the best of them.

The slides were an issue, which was sad because it was a large part of the experience overall.  So, the second time I accompanied our daughter down, I pointed to the warning sticker at the top of the hill, indicating tandem sliding as a taboo.  "See," I told her, "You're supposed to go all by yourself."

"Yeah.  But let's go anyway."

That's my little rule-breaker.

After that, it was all about the law - only because it gave her leverage over her brother. 

"See, Bubba?  It says to go by yourself."

And that was all it took to convince the little guy we had to push and pull onto the inflatable in the first place (the one who had spent the majority of the past hour stepping gingerly toward a bounce-house before hurrying away before we could talk him into it) to declare, "I have to do it all by myself!"  And off he went, scurrying up the rubber-covered ladder/stairs to throw himself down the nearest slide (nevermind the fact he had never even been interested in the activity with accompaniment, let alone by himself).

Before we knew it, we had a sliding fool and a social butterfly scurrying hither and yon among the growing crowd.  

Oh, and their little brother? It was all we could do to keep that guy from climbing the ballooned sides himself from moment one. This little man knows no fear. "They don't want to play?" he seemed to say, "Don't worry, I've got this!"

Oh how different children can be.

Of Taking New Steps

On January 15 Joey took his first two steps while he and I played in the living room.  A little more than a month later, we finally pulled out the video camera to capture our new little toddler.  He still has trouble making it more than the distance from one couch to the other on his own two feet, but he sure does love to try.

This act of becoming a walker has truly shown us how independent our little guy is.  While we spent weeks trying to encourage him - standing the little man up and holding out our hands to him - he constantly plopped down on his rear to begin his crawl - every time.  I finally decided he has his whole life to walk, so he might as well take advantage of the hands and knees approach as long as his knees are still padded enough to handle it.  Because goodness knows that goes away all too quickly.

As with all things in life, it was at the moment of our surrender that he finally decided it was his time to shine.  Within days he began to toddle the four steps between Mommy and Daddy (as captured in the below video) all on his own and only days after that he now regularly pushes himself to his own two feet, taking the halting steps in whichever direction he chooses.  True, he still often gets over excited and quickly loses balance, and crawling his still his preferred method of transport, but let it be known our little guy can walk.

Which brings us to my big milestone - our youngest child can walk and I'm NOT currently incubating another.  Such a big step for us all!

(Note: My favorite thing about this video, other than the evidence of his newest ability, is how encouraging his wonderful siblings are. These kids are my greatest gift.)


1,000 Steps:
1101. What once was a curse now is a blessing
1102. A sign I was made for this
1103. First (and second and third) steps
1104. Giving away and still having plenty to give
1105. Quiet times with kids
1106. Her enjoying the music
1107. A little boy offering to help (and doing it well)
1108. Fat flakes in our hair as we get groceries
1109. Grocery shopping with one kid at a time

Of Our Penguin's First Year

Joey completed his first year of life at 7:59 this morning.  As of 8am we have a one-year-old in this house again.

A fact that makes me smile is that, for a brief time in the middle of this celebratory day, it was snowing, much like it did the day he was born - and if you know Oklahoma winters (particularly these past two), you'll know having snow on the exact same day two years in a row (especially when they represent only half of the occasions it has snowed in our area over the entirety these two years), you'll know it's a downright miracle.  I like to think it's due to the nickname his sister gave him before he was born.  Because a Penguin needs his snow.

At this point in his life, he is already a talker - his most common words are "ball" (definitely his favorite toy), "thank you," and "bye-bye" (though some of us swear we heard him say, "Hi, Aunt Dayla" just the other day).  He doesn't walk yet, but he sure can cruise along any object, toddle while holding a hand and take his own steps while pushing an object.  The only thing standing between him and full-out running is a lack of confidence in his ability to balance himself.

He loves to climb.  Of all our children, he is the climbing-est.  He can tackle a full set of stairs with no reservations (despite the cries of his parents who are slightly more aware of his inability to successfully descend those same steps).  He regularly climbs the step-stool in front of the toy kitchen to tinker in the plastic sink.  He has taken his fair share of tumbles from this same stool, resulting, already, in many bruises and one teeth-cut lip, but he is determined and tough - one spill (or two or three) will not keep him from doing what he loves.  Likewise with discipline.  A swatted hand is a small price to pay for playing with those buttons (whether on the phone or any remote he can get in his hands), a cost he most willingly pays over and over again.  Persistence and perseverance are his defining attributes.

Cooking for Momma

While typically rather serious and slow to show anything other than a blank stare to someone new, he can be such a little ham - he loves the camera.  Most children stop what they're doing when the camera is pulled out, and so does this guy, but only to grin as wide as he can, showing off his only four teeth, declaring, "Eeee!"

Cheesing for the camera while riding Horsey Gram

He is most happy when he is involved with others.  He enjoys being around his brother and sister most - they bring the giggles (and, yes, the tears) out of this otherwise-rather-stoic little man - and he regularly chases them from room to room just to be with them (he also clambers onto Sissy's bed quite eagerly whenever possible - but this might have more to do with his love of climbing).

Sharing the giant cardboard box with Emmett

He is also quite helpful, putting things away when asked (well, about half the time) and even helped Mommy with the laundry for the first time yesterday (well, other than just scattering previously-folded clothing) - first taking things from the dryer to put them in the basket and then hugging the small items of clothing she gave him to toss into the dryer.  He was quite happy to help.

All of these developments in just one year - we can only imagine what his vast future holds.

1,000 Gifts:
1093. A year full of life
1094. Fluffy white flakes falling to the earth
1095. Offering a listening ear
1096. A weekend with the grandparents

Of 52 Weeks

52 weeks ago tonight, I was headed to bed, a little sad and a little anxious.

This baby inside me had been due nine days before and, what concerned me most was the idea that the closer I got to Thursday without a baby meant the closer I came to facing an induction - the one thing I had wanted so badly to avoid with this baby.  A Pitocin-free birth in the comfort of my home is what I had looked forward to since before this little being was even formed in my womb.

Going to bed that Saturday night without a baby in my arms meant waking up that Sunday morning to another crowd of friendly, sympathetic faces, with their looks of pity and surprise upon seeing my continually swelling belly.  Another round of, "No, still no baby, yet!" with a false smile to hide the growing frustration.

What I was not expecting was to be sending my two oldest children to church the following morning as I snuggled my fresh-from-the-womb son in those very arms I had so lamented for being empty the night before.

I had not expected the early morning pains, the ones that made my toes curl and my words stop.  The ones that were so sporadically spaced I could not determine if the call to the midwife should be made or if I needed to hold off.  I had not anticipated the hour of longing to push while forcing myself to wait, trusting I could do all things through the strength of my Savior, knowing my panicked, yet re-assuring, husband was not at all ready to welcome a tiny life to this world on his own.

I hadn't even considered I might be pushing this baby into the waiting arms of an assistant I had met only once or twice before, whose baby-delivering skills were the most valuable asset in that room.  Or that the midwife would be walking into a room newly calmed from the preceding chaos and a baby boy only five minutes old.

All before the other children even woke up.

I didn't know I wouldn't be the one dressing them up in their pre-Valentine's best or ushering them out the door.

More than anything else, I had no idea how my heart could swell to love another human being with the same intensity I felt for those other two who had previously passed from my womb.

Oh how pregnant with anticipation and surprise was that one Saturday night.

Fifty-two weeks ago.

1,000 Gifts:
1087. A not-even-one-year-old face smiling, "Cheese!"
1088. Birthday cake
1089. Siblings, bringing gifts to their brother, eager to help
1090. A birthday celebration covered with the love of family
1091. Precious conversations with my little ones.
1092. A precocious exclamation: "I feel like a woman hurting everywhere!" 

Of Dentists and Haircuts

After having watched "The Berenstain Bears Go to the Dentist" innumerable times in our house, the announcement to Micaiah that she, herself, would be visiting the dentist this week was met with much glee.  Honestly, I hoped she wouldn't be terribly disappointed, because I believe she was under the distinct impression that visiting the dentist would bring her to the rite of passage of a loose tooth.  I didn't really have the heart to explain she would receive little more than a glorified brushing.

No worries, though, this girl was simply excited to be going.  And we, as her parents, were pretty excited, too.  It's a big step for us - yet another in a long line of firsts.

We were so proud of her, too, the way she marched right into that office with a smile that needed no brightening.  She climbed into the big chair, grin still in tact, though slightly wavering as the reality of the room sunk in.  Our hygienist was fantastic (as always, we're big fans) as she explained every tool to our little girl before she even tried to touch her mouth.

And the whole while, as though she's done this her whole life, our little girl leaned back, mouth wide open, waiting for the event to start.  We could see signs of worry, the clenching of the fists, the pointing of her little toes, but she held a brave face the entire time and came out a champ.

They even let her use cool shades for the bright lights - so jealous.

And as if going to the dentist weren't a reward in and of itself, the fact that she walked out of there with a Princess toothbrush, pink floss, new toothpaste and a hot pink timer to keep her on track when brushing would all have been enough to guarantee a repeat visit.  This girl is sold - the dentist is totally where all the cool kids go.

And, of course, ice cream is where they go next (And we'll try to forget she opted for Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream . . . and liked it.  If it weren't for her Daddy's eyes, we might have to question if she were really ours.).

In other firsts so far this year, Joseph had his first real haircut - Momma was tiring of the shaggy mullet. (Unless you had seen him personally, it would be hard to tell a difference - all the change came from the back, where the party was happening.)

And, getting jealous of her little brothers having all the hair-cutting fun, Micaiah continued to beg for her chance under the scissors.  I finally agreed it was her time.  She might have been super excited.

Before:

As another before, this was earlier the same day, as the kids, not understanding the length of the process, awaited apple chips from our new dehydrator:

So, of course, we sat her down with some Netflix (she opted for "My Little Pony," rather than her brother's stand-by of "Blue's Clues") and marshmallows (those are a necessary ingredient to the process), and I went to work.

It's gone!

All snipped up.

All her precious curls - the ones she's been growing since birth:

She did not seem sad to see them go (and, no, I did not have to tell her to pose for this - this is her 100% genuine reaction to the haircut, running into the bathroom and twisting to see her new look).

(If you wish to see what the dry result is, you can check out the dentist pictures above, once again).

And that's it, folks.  Our little ones are growing daily.  Sometimes it's hard to believe, but we're always so proud to see them move forward.

Of a List of Lately

This list has been about a week in the making, thus it keeps growing.  Life will slow down someday, right?

- A couple weeks ago Joseph ate something that disagreed with him - it led to a late-night bath (which he loved), three changes of pajamas, and a cuddle session with Momma that lasted until 2am.  And, yet, when he wasn't getting sick or sleeping, he was giggling and smiling.  Happiest sick baby ever.

- That same week, we studied the 10 Plagues of Egypt here at home.  As a result, Micaiah still talks about how we're all going to live because we put "blood" (in the form of a red ribbon) over our door (though Daddy's fate was questionable, because he was at work at the time and, thereby, not in the house), and the children continue to ask to drink blood at lunch (don't worry, we used Kool-Aid instead, because vampires aren't as cool as some people pretend).

- After a random suggestion by Micaiah, we planned an impromptu Saturday visit to the zoo last weekend.  It was pretty much the best zoo trip I could imagine.  Well, except for Emmett's insistence on calling the Bison "buffalo"- Mommy's still working on him.  He's still not cooperating.

- While playing with the Nativity set last week, Micaiah (playing the part of Mary) instructed the Wise Men, "I don't want the stuff you brought; I just want stuff for the baby.  I need water for the baby; bring me water!"  That's our practical girl.

- Joseph has begun cruising around the house, walking along the edge of the fireplace (which is lined with pillows, lest you worry) and the couches.  We predict walking before Christmas.

- Also, just in time for Christmas, Joseph's two front teeth.  Wish granted.

- Last week, after I got out of class early, I broke Emmett out of his class and spent a little time playing in the nursery with just him.  How fun it was to see what his little imagination comes up with all on his own, apart from influence from Big Sister.  I almost never get an opportunity to have one-on-one Emmett time and those imaginary cookies coming out of the microwave (and refrigerator, and cabinet . . .) of the toy kitchen were just about the best I'd ever tasted.

- I had a rare good-Mommy moment when I created an impromptu lesson on Joshua and the walls of Jericho last week.  We all marched around the wooden-block city of Jericho, shouted for all we had and watched the walls fall.  We then watched the VeggieTales rendition of Josh and the Big Wall, because what Jericho lesson would be complete without the French Peas?

- We made a family (+ Adopt-a-Bison) made a visit to the annual Christmas Parade on Main St.  The weather was perfect and the kids were perfectly content with the short half hour we stayed - they saw Santa (who Micaiah now insists is real) and each got a Tootsie Roll, what else could they need?  After, we decorated Christmas cookies, for which Micaiah promptly created an eating schedule ("I will eat the star after lunch tomorrow, and then I'll eat the snowman after dinner . . .), to which she stuck perfectly.

And those are just the highlights . . .

Of the Splash Zone

Two boys, sitting in waist-deep water, facing each other in the tub for the first time.

The big one raises his hand, high over his head, and brings it down with sheer force, sending water over the two of them, as well as the Mommy seated on the stool nearby.  Worried about the little one's reaction to sprays of water in his tiny face, I begin to scold the elder, while watching the face of the younger, prepared to console.

I hear a high-pitched squeal and begin my words of encouragement, but before they escape my lips, the squeal is accompanied by a giggle and two little white teeth shining out of a grin.

He loves it!

Tentatively, an itty bitty hand lowers to the surface.  Can he re-create this?

Before he tries, big brother brings down his hand again.  A bigger splash.  A bigger laugh - out of both of them.

The littlest bring his own arm down a little stronger and is rewarded with the smallest of sprays.

And so they go, back and forth.  Splashing.  Giggling.  Filling the floor with water and the air with laughter.

Brothers.

Doing what brothers do.

And a Mommy enjoying every moment from the splash zone.

1,000 Gifts:
1044. Witnessing a little boy's problem-solving skills
1045. Quiet time at the library
1046. A husband who will drive across town to turn the key in the ignition
1047. Leftover queso
1048. The way water splashes, covering a face
1049. A hard-working husband
1050. The adventurous spirit of our youngest
1051. Ice Cream for dinner after the kids go to bed

Of Nine Months with Joseph

Our littlest guy celebrated nine months of living yesterday.  He celebrated in typical fashion - by living life as a nine-month-old, which is exciting enough, in itself, when there is still so much world to discover.

At this point one might normally be able to say he has been out of the womb as long as he was in it, but considering our little Joey stayed cozily tucked up inside me for a ten-day extension, we won't be able to say that until Thanksgiving (which is now nine days away, what?!).

Considering all the development which occurred in that first nine months and ten days of existence - proceeding from a tiny fertilized egg into a being with a beating heart, arms, legs, toes, fingers, eyelashes and a soft dusting of hair, 9.5 pounds of squirmy, squishy, sleepy baby - it's hard to imagine any more miracle packed into so short a time.  Yet the nine months following his exit into our world have had their fair share of milestones.

He now has two teeth to boast of and even saw the scissors to his hair for the first time this past week (just for a little over-the-ears trim, nothing major).  On top of using his hands and knees to transport himself wherever he would like to be, his new favorite is pulling up to get a closer look at all that used to be out of reach - like his brother's lollipop or Mommy's laptop.

He loves to giggle, grin, and, recently, wave "bye-bye."  His tongue is his favorite toy, as he sticks it out (and in) in rapid succession, like a giant lizard, flips it over and under and all around works it for all it's worth.  When he's sleepy, lately, he resembles a baby dinosaur, opening his mouth wide, tongue partially out, squawking for all to hear - sometimes a yawn is involved, other times not.  When he's sad or hungry and wants my attention, he cries, "Mmamamamamamamaaaa!"

He is, by far, our most exploratory baby, often getting lost in one room or another before Mommy even realizes he's missing (blame it on being the third child).  He loves finding new things and, of course, trying it all out in his mouth, feeling it out with that favored tongue.

He alternates between being a most amazing sleeper (13 hours or more) most of the time and spurts of waking Mommy at 4:30 in the morning, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.  He is our only so far to not have completely given up that early morning feeding, but I always know when it's growing time.

Considering when we first met face to face he was capable of little more than gazing, sleeping and eating - unable, even, to support his own head - I would say he has accomplished much in his, as yet, short little life.  Looking forward to seeing what else our little Joseph Peter has in store for us.

Just to give a visual to a little of the above:



1,000 Gifts:
1018. Micaiah, picking up her baby brother
1019. Joseph investigating his sister's face while she sits placidly, watching television
1020. Emmett kneeling to kiss his sissy's face, wordlessly and randomly
1021. Watching a favorite show after a long hiatus - still a favorite
1022. Preparing for a new resident
1023. Finding just what we need at just the right time and place
1024. "Look, Mommy! He's standing on his feet!"
1025. Being pronounced "Super Mommy" by my beautiful daughter

Of Memories

I sat yesterday morning, in the coolness of the dawn, with the warmth of a fevered baby's head resting on my chest.

We sat, the two of us, in a chair settled on uneven ground in the small piece of land we call our own, the one protruding ever so slightly from behind our home.

The two of us, snuggled together, facing east as the first brilliant strokes of color emanated from the skyline just over the fence, behind a tree, still black against the dawning rays.

Slowly and ever so brilliantly our two pairs of eyes watched the colors of the morning emerge.

I thought of my camera.

Should I grab it?  Shouldn't I capture this beauty in its lens?  Because who can allow such exquisite handiwork to go to waste?

But then, is it really wasted on our two pairs of eyes?

Is not appreciating it, this one moment in time, enough?

Will God not be so good as to produce another sunrise tomorrow?  And the next day?

Are His mercies not new every morning?

And yet I strive, ever backwards, like cupped hands trying to stop the water flowing, trying to hold on to just a little, as if this will be the last sweet sip ever offered before the stream is cut off forever.

I try to capture it all, remember it all, hold on to it all.

Because each moment is precious.

But, then, if this moment is so precious, can I not trust the next to be just as precious?

Can I not trust that the moving forward will bring new beauty, new moments, new mercies?

I can get stuck in hoarding the memories rather than living the moments.

Will God not be so good as to bring another blessing tomorrow?  And if tomorrow never comes - was today wasted?

Certainly not.  Let not any day enjoyed, lived, and shared, be considered a waste - no matter the work left undone, the tasks neglected or the minutes missed.

Every day is grace.  Don't miss it.


1,000 Gifts:

989. The first blushes of pink on the morning clouds
990. The way clouds float in layers - one speeding along, the other standing still
991. A sickie baby snuggled in my arms as we watch the sunrise together
992. Children chasing after one another in joy
993. My kids, all three, giggling together

Of Saying No

I'll be honest, we are not a baby-signing family.  I kind of wish we were.  I have a book of signs for babies.  We've watched Signing Time quite a bit.  But I lack the consistency.  As in, I usually forget to accompany my words with a physical motion of any sort.

Our older two both eventually learned "More," "Food," and "Please" so we could survive feeding time.  Anyone knowing our kids wouldn't be surprised by that combination of words. (Don't worry, we did teach them "All done" too).

Otherwise, nothing.

Joseph, however, seems to have figured something out.  Even if it's not technically correct.

When he reached the age of six months, we considered this to be the appropriate age for his first swats - nothing serious, just a small slap to the back of the hand when he touches something we prefer he wouldn't or to the leg when he's heading into a room where he doesn't need to be.  A firm "No" accompanied by a little swat (not even enough to draw a whimper) are typically all it takes for him to switch directions.

Eventually, though, much as I remember his older sister doing, upon hearing the word "No" as he crawled away, he began to stop, sit up, look at me, and slap his lap.  He knew what I was saying.  And he wanted me to know it (also that he could handle the discipline himself, thankyouverymuch).

Today, though, was the first time I had noticed a similar reaction when caught touching what shouldn't be touched by baby fingers.

"Joseph, no." I stated.

He looked at me, clapped and smiled, so proud of himself.  He was slapping his own hand, his own way.  And it was darn cute.  Philip agreed when he saw the same thing later that evening.

Now, he won't clap just to clap.  Only when we say "No".  As if it's a Sign.  Clearly that's what that little two-letter word means - "Let's Clap!"

What was really great, though, was later in the evening when Philip was antagonizing his littlest son (frustrating the children seems to be one of his favorite past-times) by putting his daddy hands all in Joseph's face.  And then Joseph clapped.

"I think he's telling me no!"

I think so, my dear.  I think so.

1,000 Gifts:
975. What once was lost, now is found (My camera is back!)
976. Melting crayons into something new
977. Creating a care package - mailing love
978. Her licking a stamp - apparently the old is not lost.

After a hard-core effort this evening, my camera was finally found, after I remembered we took photos at an air show two weeks ago and I hadn't seen those pictures - erego, it was misplaced at the same time.  Sure enough, it was found in Philip's coat pocket.  That's what happens when the temperatures drop suddenly and then pick back up, leaving the coats in the closets for weeks.

At the air show, me and my boys.

Love this face.

Standing on his own for the first time!

He loves his brother.

One of the few moments they were paying attention to what was happening in the air.

Joey and I were interested, at least.

Of Our Determined Boy

This youngest kid of ours - he goes for what he wants.  If it's just out of reach he will not give up until he has found a way to get his hands on the desired object.  If there is water in his brother's cup, he will try every possible angle until he has figured out how to get the liquid in his mouth.  If there is anything, - a stick horse, a slinky, whatever - between the boy and his toy, that item will be tossed aside without a second thought.  Don't try to distract him.  He's on a mission.

That boy.

Case in point: His first time to his feet - all because there was a toy in the corner of that chair and he just had to have it.

Is this the one?

Got it!

And . . . straight to the mouth.

This tongue his is trademark, always out, always wiggling around.  Silly goose.

1,000 Gifts:
971. Reminding myself I'm not a failure.
972. Having it all ready on time.
973. The squeaks of a little boy's hands on the balloon - and the squeaks of happiness from his mouth.
974. A column written

Of Weekend Growth

- On Friday, Joseph began crawling on hands and knees.  Like a big boy.  A full two months earlier than either of his siblings.

- On Saturday, he hurt my finger with his brand new tooth.

- On Sunday, Micaiah decided she will be using the quarter and nickle she recently found on our bathroom floor to purchase herself a car for her sixteenth birthday (since I told her she couldn't have one for her next birthday - we figured she should be able to drive a car before she owns a car).  It will be big like Mommy and Daddy's and she will paint it like a rainbow - because Mommy and Daddy won't let her paint theirs.

- Emmett is now tall enough to push the buttons on the elevator at church, including the tippy top one to go to the first floor.  As little as two months ago he was only able to reach the Door Close and Emergency buttons - so it's much less worrisome now that he can push something useful - but when did he get so big?

- Micaiah told me she had a squash and she was going to put it into the washing machine because it was a "clo."  I was confused for a second (beyond the idea that an imaginary squash was going in our washing machine), until I realized she had just singularized the word "clothes" - smart girl, that one.

- On Sunday night at dinner, Emmett said he wanted to pray "A,B,C" - so we said ok - which usually leads to him deciding he can't do it on his own and passing over the job.  Last night, though, he did it.  He sang the whole prayer.  We were thoroughly impressed.

Playing Mario Party on Saturday night.  These three are my favorite kids in the world.

1,000 Gifts:
929. New teeth
930. A little hand reaching the top button
931. Impressing me with her English language generalizations
932. His memory improving
933. A husband who does what he says
934. Dating my mate - without even leaving the house
935. A family that doesn't mind waiting in the car
936. Raindrops falling on my head
937. Chicken Noodle Soup
938. A new month

Of Craving these Moments

Great moments today:

- Micaiah suddenly loves to pray.  It does not matter that her current prayer starts with her singing, "A,B,C,D,E,F,G, Thank you, God, for my ______" - the blank is typically filled with either breakfast, lunch, dinner, or bedtime.  Occasionally she includes add-ons like, "Mommy, Daddy, my brothers, my friends, my teachers and Jack" - Jack is one of her four boyfriends.  Philip is going to have a coronary before this girl hits puberty.

- As Joey was laying on the ground the other day, he spontaneously pulled up his arm to prop his chin in his hand.  By the time I snapped a picture, he was making the hand multi-task by sucking on the fingers.  Such a cool kid.

- Emmett and I played catch today, this was how he put his hands out to catch.  It wasn't very effective.

- Speaking of him, you'll notice this little man is wearing a cloth diaper - because a)it's almost naptime and that's what he wears to bed and b)apparently Philip and I are really good at teaching a child how to use the potty and then, somehow, making them so disinterested in actually using the potty we're pulling our hair out.  Pray for us.

- Joseph got himself stuck under the rocking chair today.  Apparently he can duck his head enough in his army crawl to get under the wooden bars along the bottom, but his inability to scoot backward with his head down left him trapped like a monkey with his fist on the prize.  Crying ensued.  Mommy may have laughed.

- Post-nap today, I got three cups of animal crackers and sat on the kids' bedroom floor while we compared animals.  Micaiah bit the heads off hers to turn them into monsters.  Emmett did whatever she did - because that's how he rolls.

- We went to Cherry Berry after church today due to an unfortunate incident leading me unable to fulfill my promise to my husband of a Fro-Yo treat last night.  Micaiah sprinkled her strawberry yogurt with fruity pebbles, Capn' Crunchberries, Skittles and Chocolate Syrup.  Our children may have flavor issues.

- When we arrived home from our dessert date, Emmett and I went out to the driveway to find the moon (aka his best friend who always follows us everywhere).  We spent some time talking, where I learned his best part of the day was eating sprinkles and M&M's and ice cream (mine, too).  As we headed inside, he told the moon and his new friends, the stars, "Bye, bye."

I might really like these kids.

Of a Big Weekend (in the Little Things)

On top of turning four this past week (a fact she shares with everyone she meets) and starting pre-school (she loves it!), our little girl hit another new milestone this weekend - playing her first video game.  She has held the Wii remotes in her hands before.  She has pretended to play Sonic the Hedgehog and she has dabbled with Dr. Mario, but this weekend, as the four of us old enough to push buttons with intention gathered in the living room to play Mario Party, this was the first time she was actively involved in playing the game - clicking "Yes" or "No" (after asking Mommy), punching the little dice block and even playing the Mini-Games.  Granted, she played like a four-year-old and won't be schooling Daddy anytime soon, but she's hooked.

Emmett's weekend milestone was his first haircut without screaming and crying (well, his first since he's figured out what a haircut is) - and he did it without even being able to watch Blue's Clues (thanks to a lack of functioning Netflix), though Kermit and his pals seemed a suitable substitute.  It may have required Daddy sitting in front of him and offering one marshmallow at a time so long as he wasn't crying, but the important thing is I was able to clip his hairs as close to his head as possible (so as to extend the time between trims) without him jerking away or endangering his ears (though there was one unfortunate snip along his forehead that leaves him looking "like he got in a fight with a weed-eater," as his Daddy put it).  There were limited tears and few screams.  We all count this as a win.

For his part, Joey has learned to sit up all on his own - from tummy to bottom.  When he performed this task earlier this week, Philip and I just looked at each other asking, "Is this new?"  Because sometimes the milestones pass and we just don't notice.  It's not exactly like little Joseph is announcing, "Hey, world, I can sit up now!"  But we're taking notice as best we can and we're pretty proud.  Of course, he remains on the precipice of being able to crawl on hands and knees (he's SO close), but he's also expressing an interest in walking as he'll take very determined steps if Mommy and Daddy hold him up enough to try.  Again, a marked difference between he and his brother, who simply tucked his feet up under him if ever we tried to hold his hands up - even at the point when he was twice his brother's current age.  That's our Joseph - he's taking this world by storm.

And that's how the cookie crumbles.

1,000 Gifts:
888. Ditching the excess
889. Re-prioritizing
890. Being challenged to use discipline in our Spiritual Gifts
891. Transparency
892. A wealth of resources at my finger-tips
893. Her giving her brother kisses and him all smiles because of it
894. Being the High-Flair Pair and Tomboy Trouble with my girl
895. High-Fives on every turn
896. Her helping Daddy make pancakes
897. Corn popping fresh for movie night


Also, this guy turned seven months old this week!