A sensitive soul

Our sweet boy loving on his dada after too many long days at work.

After we read a bit of Isaac's chapter book (currently working on Charlie and the Chocolate Factory), we pray, sing some lullabies, and chat for a bit. He always wants me to stay a while and lately he's started saying, "I reeeeallllly wish you could sleep in my room tonight." I thought it was because we recently finished a book about a big friendly giant and maybe his imagination was getting away from him, but I wasn't sure. So, last night I asked him why he wanted me to sleep by him. He shyly replied, "Because sometimes when I'm sleeping I forget about you a little bit." How adorable is that? I assured him sleeping was the time when his mind could rest and not think about anything, so it was okay to forget me or his dad or anyone we know. He looked slightly relieved, that sweet, sensitive boy o' mine.

Extra, extra read all about it.

Elliot, you know, the sweet little dimpley fellow that takes residence here and loves on us like crazy, but still wakes up at random hours of the night? Yes, that Elliot. Well,he's had it down to waking up about once a night at 4:15 for a while now, but last night the dear, sweet, spectacular little babe went to bed about 7:15 and slept until 6:10. I'm pretty sure the skies parted and angels sang. I do not expect a repeat anytime soon, but it happened once, so I'm certain it will happen again before he's 2.

What could be cuter? Bottom up, arms tucked, comfy cozy, nice and rosy, Elliot James.

I must note that, in true mama form, Elliot slept through the night, but I did not. I heard him coughing at 1:30, then heard some mumbling. I let it go for a bit. Or it seemed like a bit in my sleepy fog. At some point (I really thought it was right when I heard him coughing, but maybe not) I walked into his room. Sweet boy was sleeping soundly. Sure wish I had been.

Random cuteness

Audrey and Isaac posed themselves on the rock. "Okay, Isaac you sit here and I'll sit on your lap."

Audrey and Isaac took it upon themselves to find all of the squares on the road today. That really sped up the walk. : )

I missed a picture of Isaac by himself at the pumpkin patch, so here's our big, grown-up looking boy with the pumpkins at home.

Three kids and a puppy love fall!

Responsible mother or neurotic nut job?

* Disclaimer-I write this not to boast, but to offer insight into the demons, or are they angels, that overtake my mind as I plan our weekly menu. It is not pretty!

I made cassoulet today, a delicious little French dish. I got the recipe from another neurotic-or responsible- friend of mine. It is a scrumptiously hearty, almost soup-like combination of beans, leeks, carrots, celery, garlic, and broth topped with tasty croutons. (At our house, we find the leek to be a highly underused veggie. Check it out next time you're at the store.) Everyone here loves it and we're back in France for The Glorious Flight so we can pretend Papa Bleriot and his family ate it right before he became the first person to fly across the English Channel. How's that for romantic? It is a very easy dish to throw together and should take a minimum of prep time with some unsupervised stove top cooking, save for a few quick stirs. Not here. That would be too easy. I have to soak the beans overnight, or at least start them right off in the morning. During the kids' naptime/reading hour, I chop the veggies, start simmering the beans, and chop the baguette because store bought croutons and beans have far too much sodium. I mean, have you read the package? I wish I hadn't.

I've decided that ignorance truly is bliss. Oh, if only I didn't know that store bought granola bars are almost all high fructose corn syrup. Or that pasta sauce has a disgusting amount of sugar and accounts for a disturbing amount of the recommended daily allowance for sodium. Or that crackers, dear sweet crackers, the snack lifeline for mamas, are pretty much a dry piece of wheat and oil. Okay, I may be exaggerating here, but that's a symptom of my neuroses talking.

Back in the day, Jim and I would make a tasty supper of 99 cent freezer burritos. The thought of feeding that to my children makes me nauseated. When did this happen? Me, the girl who hated to cook and ruined most meals that I tried to cook on my own for the first few years of our marriage. Probably about the time the doctor placed a full-lipped, sideburned bugga boo on my chest. Probably about the time I felt a physical need to pack up every piece of fruit, every vegetable, every loaf of bread that might go bad while we were away visiting family. Because I'm sure that the family we visit would really appreciate our browning pears, our toughening bread, our spotted tomatoes. Having babies sure did some crazy things to me! Why do I feel guilty every time a child of mine swallows a cracker, sucks on a lollipop from Fantastic Sam's, or eats a granola bar that didn't come from my oven? Seriously, what's the worst thing that could happen?

I am proud to say that I feel guilt about very little when it comes to parenting. I know my kids feel safe, secure, loved, treasured, and respected. I know they have a strong marriage to look up to and are surrounded by a whole slew of grown ups who love them to pieces. But I'm just not sure about this food thing. Of course I want them to grow up with healthy eating habits and I think they're well on their way in that department, but Lord help me if they eat a hot dog.

So, like all things in parenting and life, I look for a balance. So far, my balance is leaning toward neurotic. The good news is that my craziness keeps our immune systems strong and our doctor's bills low. The bad news is that it means I spend way too much time in the kitchen. The best news is that I have a healthy family that enjoys mealtime together 3 times a day. Who in their right mind could complain about that? Certainly not this nut job. Just in case you ever wonder.

This is what happens when you tell chubby babies that they can't eat raw pumpkin seeds. He had a similar reaction when he finished the cantaloupe for supper. Our 3 kids ate 1/2 a cantaloupe in one sitting. Jim told me to edit this to 4 minutes. Really, should a 16 month old be able to say, "Cantaloupe empty?" It came out "caucee empy?" but still!

redemption!

Ever have one of those days? No, not one of THOSE days, but one of those days punctuated by a happy sigh at the end. That was today. School went great. We started a very interesting book called "The Glorious Flight" that caught everyone's attention and imagination. We finished up in time to pull on our Halloween get-up and head to a party. The brilliant sun shone on us as we lugged, hauled, and tripped our way from the parking lot to the church with three kids in costumes, coats, and hats, a purse, a bag of food, a tray to set food on, and two pumpkins for trick or treating. Why didn't I bring the stroller conveniently stored in the trunk? Great question, but two great arm work-outs later we left the party happy and tuckered out.

The brown puppy, the pumpkin, and the firefighter.

We got home, I put a sleepy beeper down for his nap, Isaac had piano lessons, and Audrey played with her friend from sunday school, the piano teacher's daughter. Doesn't this day sound just lovely? And, did I mention the sun was shining!?! Hallelujah! Jim got home early today, be still my beating heart, and after a short nap for the older kids, Jim and I got them up to head to the coolest pumpkin patch.

This is where the redemption part comes in. Remember our rotten trip to the apple orchard? The one that inspired my poor fall festival deprived Isaac to ask, when learning we might go to a different apple orchard with a cousin, "Will we get to pick apples this time?" To which Audrey pitifully added, "I mean, more than one for each hand?" It snowed on our second attempt at an apple orchard, so it just wasn't meant to be this year, but that's okay, because we'll always have the pumpkin patch! We got lost in hay mazes, climbed on pirate ships, took a tractor ride, petted lots of animals, picked humongous pumpkins, bounced in excitement, listened to Elliot scream "pumpoo" each time he saw a pumpkin and, trust me, there were many pumpkin sitings, careened down slides, laughed, smiled, and enjoyed life to its fullest. (Insert happy sigh here.)

All smiles on the tractor ride!
Audrey saves her pumpkin while Isaac finds just the right one.
Heading back from the pumpkin patch.

We got home in time to warm up some delicious leftovers that were easy to make and everyone loved. Can't beat that! The kids opened a Halloween package from their grandparents to find Halloween socks and pencils, which thrilled the kids! During supper, Audrey leaned over to whisper, "Can I give you a hug and a kiss?" Absolutely, my sweets! Nothing would please me more. Then, the icing on the cake of our day. We told the kids they could stay up past their bedtime to watch the Charlie Brown Halloween special on TV and we'd pop some popcorn for the big event. When you have movie and tv deprived children, this is bigger than big. They jumped. They squealed. They thanked profusely. They played perfectly while Jim gave Elliot a bath and I cleaned up the kitchen. There was no stalling while putting pjs on. There were more smiles and laughter and snuggles under the covers as Isaac told us they sure were talking rudely to Linus and Audrey spilled popcorn all over the bed. There were sweet lullabies and stories about our favorite parts of the day and hugs and kisses before bed. There were lights out and hearts full. It was just one of those days. (sigh) Just in case you ever wonder!

Birthdays all around

I love my niece and nephews. I love watching people I love parent. I love when people I love create new people for me to love. I love learning from my brother, brother-in-law, and sisters-in-law. I love having someone close to me understand the exhaustion, the striving to raise these children right when so much of the world is wrong, the unexplainable love that comes with parenting. I love watching cousins play together, laugh together, converse together, grow together as cousins and friends. Yes indeedy, lots to love.


But here's where I draw the line. . . my oldest nephew turned nine this week and my littlest nephew turns two tomorrow. I look at the oldest-a kind, compassionate, funny, handsome fellow if there ever was one-and I see Isaac in just a few short years. Impossible, I say to myself. Nine is sooo far away. Nothing to worry about. Except that it really isn't far away at all. Isaac is closer to nine than to my womb and it's common knowledge that he was in my tummy just a blink of the eye ago. So nine will be here in a jiffy and I'll have this little boy who isn't little anymore and I'll be thinking of how a decade passes in an instant. Then I'll be thinking of how he's closer to college than to my womb and wondering why in the world I have to be so good at multiplying by two. UGH.

Then there's the issue of the two year old nephew. He and Audrey are the best of friends and we're sure they'll be brewing up a whole pot full of innocent and adorable trouble before we know it. But he's a mere 8 months older than my Elliot belliot, so I look at him, lean and tall and talking and problem solving and seeming oh so grown up and worldly, and I see my baby in just 8 months. Elliot is 16 months old today and I can still tell myself he's a baby. He crawls and nurses and snuggles and speaks an adorable, muffled language full of beetas and wots and edens. Of course I've had other 2 year olds, but that was eons ago in babyland where you always forget little things like where Audrey put the tights that match this dress and big things like the pain of natural childbirth. And if a person can somehow block that pain out, you know a lot more pertinent information has left the building. Plus, when you have a 3 and 5 year old, 2 seems so little and sweet and, did I mention little? But when you see and love a 2 year old on a regular basis, it drives home the point that this baby gig is almost up. And, as much as I know we're done and that's for the best, I really don't want this baby gig to end.


So, happy birthday to my outstanding nephews. And Happy 16 months to my baby boy. Time sure flies when you're having fun and life with my Baby Love is most certainly fun! Just in case you ever wonder.

One year ago. Elliot at 4 months, also his baptism day. Babies with jowls are the cutest!

Elliot today at 16 months old. The jowls are gone, but he has dimples to spare.

A flair for the dramatics

As I read over some past posts, I realized that some are quite dramatic. It will shock no one to know that I take this parenthood thing pretty seriously. I remember finding out I was pregnant with Isaac and being so excited about having a baby. I'd snuggle it and read to it and sing to it and love it with all of me. In my mind, it was always a baby. Obviously I knew our baby wouldn't always be a baby, but being pregnant with my first, I couldn't really get past the miracles of pregnancy and birth and the fact that we were going to be parents. AAAH! Even now, that's a lot to wrap my head around and we've done it three times. Then Isaac was born and I thunder struck by the realization that we were parents to a human being, a baby that would become an adult.

This job was much more important, amazing, taxing, spiritual, and beautiful than I had imagined. There was so much more to it than feeding and bathing and snuggling and reading and singing. We had to decide how we'd help our baby sleep through the night and which church home espoused the beliefs we wanted our child to grow up in. We had to decide what type of school he'd attend and how we'd share our ideas about finances, food, and family. We had to decide how we'd handle the first major death in his life, the first time someone teased him, the first time he failed at something he'd tried really hard at. In short, we had to decide how we were going to raise this baby boy God blessed us with into a loving, strong, productive, joyous, Godly man. To me, that's about as serious as it gets.

So, my writings get a little emotional, which reminds me where Audrey gets her flair for dramatics. It also reminds me that the drama apple didn't fall far from the tree in my case either, which is obvious if you'd ever met my mom, who goes by nana to the kiddos. In fact, just today Jim walked in to the bathroom where Audrey was washing her hands and found her making the most pitiful, sad face ever. He was worried and asked what was wrong and why she was sad. But, she was just practicing making sad faces in the mirror. That brought me right back to my teen years when I would talk on the phone in front of my mirror so I could see what my face looked like when I talked and practice the expressions I wanted to make when I said certain things. I wonder what variation of looking in the mirror while talking that my mom did as a girl.

Even as I take my job as a parent seriously and believe it is the most important thing I will do on this earth (see, dramatic), I am thankful that I am much more relaxed about it as well. I received this gift from my mom and my children. My mom reminded me that when I sense myself getting uptight, I should ask myself, "What's the worst thing that could happen?" Usually the worst is no big deal. And, while my decisions are important, Isaac, Audrey, and Elliot have taught me that life will continue even if/when I make mistakes. In fact, we usually giggle about it and go about our business. Again, no big deal.

This crazy journey of parenting is far from over. In fact, in the grand sceme of life, it's just beginning. I am grateful for the lessons I've learned thus far and know there are thousands more down the road. I'll definitely take this journey seriously, but I'll also be laughing and smiling the whole way because when my kids look back on their childhood, I hope they see a joyously happy woman who loved them as much as a mama could love. Just in case you ever wonder.

It won't be long now!

Elliot used walking as real bona fide mode of transportation today, rather than a way of getting from one person saying, "Walk to mama" to another person saying, "Walk to dada." He picked up a book from the book bin, spun around, and took three steps to me at the couch. Yeah, Elliot. What a big boy! You'll be running around before we know it.

Almost ready to take a solo spin.

It was inevitable!

All three kids decided they were ready to playfully wrestle together. Thankfully Isaac is gentle, Audrey is tough, and Elliot's a brute. Or is it that Audrey is scrappy, Isaac is as careful as possible when babies are around, and Elliot's agile? At any rate, a fantastic time was had by all as I looked on in amusement and a bit of trepidation at the thought of an errant knee smacking a nose. Clearly I wasn't too worried since I chose to take pictures instead of break up the "fight club." They really were careful, which is great until an accident happens and someone is bleeding, but I know there's no use fighting it since I remember all kinds of wrestling nonsense with my brother. Plus, if you can't have fun wrestling with your siblings, who in the world can you wrestle with?

A break in the action for a quick picture. Or is it a dog pile on Elliot? Well, they're all smiling anyway. : ) And yes, I'm pretty sure his head is bigger than her head, and maybe Isaac's for that matter.

Somtimes I figure we must be doing something right

I was privy to some beautiful and emotional conversations over lunch today.

Isaac: I hurt my teeth this morning. Audrey, why didn't you help me?

Audrey: I forgot.

I: Well, why did you push my back later?

A: I'm sorry.

I: I forgive you.

He begins wiggling in his chair, smiling, giggling, and rubbing his back. (background information: when Isaac gets really excited or nervous, he says that his back feels funny. It happens when he sees other people get blood drawn, when other people get hurt, when he gets scared, when something really cool happens, etc.)

Me: Does that make you feel special?

I: Yes, I'm so happy my back is tickly.

A: I will help you when you get hurt next time.

I: Thank you.

I brought Elliot to the bathroom and walked out to hear this:

A:How do people die?

I: They can die lots of ways. Sometimes people are climbing and their hearts stop working and they fall a long way. Then they have a funeral and they are buried. Then people from heaven come down and bring them up to heaven.

Audrey nodded, raised her eyebrows a lot, shrugged, twirled her hands for good effect, and made other delightfully Audrey faces while listening to this explanation. She mulled it over for a few minutes before saying, "I will never die. When I'm done turning numbers, I'll just go up to heaven."

We're reading The Rag Coat by Lauren Mills for school this week and yesterday we focused on compassion. The kids have brought it up repeatedly since then. After the forgiveness conversation we were talking about how special it must make God feel when we make good choices and ask for forgiveness when we sin. Isaac said it was a miracle that God could forgive "like a billion people at the same time." I said I thought so too and that it could never happen if Jesus hadn't died on the cross. Isaac decided that was about the hugest way a person could show compassion. He went on to talk about the Good Samaritan, which brought on a discussion about why there are so many poor people in the world.

WOW! How blessed I am to be a fly on the wall to these conversations. Can you believe the conversations a 3 and 5 year old can share over lunch? I pray that my children will walk the path that God chose for them. I know that we all make mistakes and sin is inevitable, but I pray these early conversations nudge their souls throughout their lives, reminding them of the miracle of forgiveness, the beauty of compassion, the healing that comes with kindness. They make me want to be a better person each and every day, to make a difference in their lives and the lives of the people in the world I will leave behind for them. Just in case you ever wonder.

Stating the obvious

I don't drop anyone off at kindergarten or preschool. If I want to do a playdate, three kids go with me. Grocery shopping. Three. Audrey's or Isaac's dance class. Three. Post office. Three. If I want to do a tricky math lesson with Isaac, I either keep two others entertained or I wait until they're napping. There are many reasons this is fantastic. My kids have an incredible bond, work well together, learn at their own pace and following their own interests, and help each other out a lot. I get to laugh with them and learn with them and watch them grow and develop on their own and together each and every day.

I had to do a quick diaper change so Isaac volunteered to read Audrey her math question.

The downfall is that it's tricky to find time to spend one on one time with them, especially with Jim working so much lately. When I find myself with one, it's always tempting to use that time to get something done since I can be so much more productive, but then I'd miss my chance at some time to hang out. So, the other day I found myself with the rare opportunity to have some extended time with Mr. Elliot belliot. I considered cleaning the kitchen, but thought better of it. Hmm, should we read some books, play ball, drive trucks, play with the toy kitchen? Elliot had an even better idea. We passed the better part of a half hour watching our front loading washing machine. First it filled with water (mind boggling, I know) and then it spun before adding more water and spinning again. He watched his little socks swoosh around as he shouted, "sock, sock," laughed when a washcloth got stuck in the front, and looked confused when they got sucked to the back of the machine. It was so fun and Elliot had a blast. I love my Elliot belliot woo woo to pieces. Whether we're sharing a delicious meal, playing with playdough, watching the fishies at the zoo, reading a book, taking a walk, talking about puppies or trucks, or watching the washing machine, there's no place I'd rather be. Just in case you ever wonder!

Great news!

And this is great news in my ever futile attempt to spend less time getting small children from the playroom out the door to the car. Isaac learned to tie his own shoes! He just needs help tightening it at the end. Yeah!

Has anyone seen a little boy, about 5 1/2 years old, who looks much younger than the HUGE big boy seen in this picture? Seriously, let me know if you see him.

Breaking news. And this just in. Audrey did ballet at dance class this morning. Nutcracker, here we come.

Fleeting moments

Crisp fall days. Our warm breath hitting the chilly air.

Bulky sweatshirts padding our bodies from the sting of tossed footballs.

Last minute park days shortened by the waning sunlight.

The crunch of brilliant leaves underfoot. The intoxicating smell of fireplaces. The hurried honks of geese flying south. The fire of orange and brown and red leaves lighting up the forest. Savoring the incomparable taste of the last fresh veggies picked from the garden.

Noses slowly dripping from the cool air.

Sunrises ablaze with the bold colors of the season.

The strangely comforting feel of a very sleepy baby's drool on my shoulder. The uncertain steps of a toddler. My kids needing lots of help bundling up against the weather. The warmth of sleepy children clumsily waddling into my room in their zipper footy pjs, rubbing their eyes as they adjust to the faint light of dawn, to snuggle under the covers on a chilly morning. Large hands grasping at the tiny, smooth hands of my small ones as we cross the street.

These seasons, of course I mean autumn, but even more so, this season in my life epitomize fleeting. We cling to autumn, all the while knowing that winter will come. And, lo and behold, we love winter, too. We love it for totally different reasons, but we love it nonetheless. We can skate and sled and make forts out of blankets and warm our chilly souls with hot cocoa. That could never happen in autumn.

In the same way, toddlerhood, and childhood, and the teen years, even adulthood will come. And I already know we'll love it. We'll discuss current events while reading the paper together, volunteer together, take runs together, go to movies together, read great literature together. I'll cheer as they play sports, participate in dance and piano recitals, perform plays. I'll watch in awe as they make their ways in this crazy world, grow in their faith, and venture out in ways I can't even fathom at this time. This season where my arms are filled with babies, diaper bags, and dance shoes, my clothes dirtied with washable paint, supper from who knows when, sleepy baby drool, and, sadly, baby snot on my shoulder will end and new adventures await.

For now, we'll jump in the leaves, bundle up to play ball and drive trucks, breathe in the fresh, crisp air, and enjoy fresh and tasty apple crisp from our great chefs. We'll cherish these fleeting moments together. Just in case you ever wonder.

Notes from the field

Audrey loves her new math book and, like her brother, feels totally ripped off when we don't have school on the weekends. She was looking at a shape and counted each side, while pointing at each corner. "1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8. Eight sides. That means it's an octagon." First of all, I was impressed that she could count the sides correctly, remembering where she started so she didn't count any more than once. But then she busted out with octagon. You go, girl.

I just came across a note I wrote to myself in the spring because I wanted to remember this forever. Audrey was not quite 3 at the time. I noticed her humming a lovely, haunting, melancholy little tune. I asked her about it and she said, "This is the song that I sing in the water when it's night time in my soul." What powerful imagery. I can't even imagine how she combined those words together in her bright 2 year old mind, but it is shockingly lovely.

Isaac notices beauty in wonderful ways. He comments on how the wind feels as it blows against his lips. He stops and points out the beautiful song of a bird perched on a tree. He's a sucker for a gorgeous sunrise or sunset. Tonight he called me to his window. "Mama, look at the beautiful sunset. The clouds are shining purple like the sky is on fire." Pure poetry to my ears.

Jim has been working an insane amount of hours lately, leaving us missing him. Home at 1 am last night, gone at 8 am only to work until around 4 or 5 this morning and back to work a few hours later on Sunday. See, insane! And this has been going on for 3 weeks. Isaac commented on his long hours and I said that he's busy as a beaver. Not missing a beat, Isaac replied, "he's even busier than a beaver because beavers get to sleep at night." So true!

I never cease to be amazed at the ponderings of a child's mind. Not yet bogged down in the day to day, must check email, pay bills, make supper, fold the laundry, they are free to explore the world and their thoughts in stunning, insightful ways. What a treat to watch them discover the wonders of their minds. What a treat to document it here so that I'll remember these moments, these snapshots into our lives. What a treat to simply be a part of their discoveries. Just in case you ever wonder.

A glimpse into our future

Last night Audrey asked to whisper something in my ear, her latest favorite type of communication for really important questions. She leaned over and asked, "When I'm a teenager, can I dance in the Nutcracker?" This, from the girl who flat-out refuses to move, much less dance, when she is wearing ballet shoes. She sits and watches, ever the observer. But the moment Miss Gayle mentions the word tap, she is in her dance bag, tugging her tap shoes on, and moving and shaking. She follows every movement with precision and the utmost of concentration. She shuffles. She hops. She taps. She spins. She nails every step. Now, of course, she does all of her ballet moves once she's at home because she spends so much time watching in concentration. But, when asked about it, she matter-of-factly states, "I will do ballet when I'm four." She turns four after their recital, so I really hope she's kidding, but I wouldn't put anything past this kid. This is a girl who knows what she wants, which can be frustrating when choosing clothes for the day, but I love the strength and certainty she exudes in all situations. It is just another of the many things I love about her. Just in case you ever wonder!

For now she's content pushing random buttons, but all to soon she'll be texting like crazy. If they even still text by then. Who knows what the next, best thing will be. But I just love how she instinctively found this position, looking so much like a teenager!

Elliot 101

One year olds have their own little language that baffles most of the world. Elliot has many words that are easily understandable to the general population, but in other cases, what sounds like gibberish to many makes perfect sense to those of us lucky enough to live with the little fella. Here is a guide to all things Elliot because the day will come when I'll want to remember all of these sweet little tidbits about my littlest guy.

Am I the only one that thinks my 15 month old looks more like a 2 year old? Before they hear them talk, some people think my 1 and 3 year old are twins. Just wrong.

-mama-actually means mama, but is also a general cry for help or assistance, as in "I'm stuck under the chair," "my plate is empty," "I bit my finger," "my socks are too slippery so I can't pull up on this linoleum, "etc. -dada-actually means daddy, but also truck, tractor, and car -nee nee-night night
-poo poo-pillow
-beeta-book
-baba-bobcat (and any other large construction vehicle except a digger or truck) -dee dee-digger (and any other large construction vehicle except a bobcat or truck) -mee-milk -peet-a-bee-peek a boo -chichen/peeta/adday-mean chicken, pizza, and apple, but stand for most foods -nana-banana and nana (my mom)
-Audy-means both Audrey and Elliot and sometimes Isaac -I-his other name for Isaac -mummy-means yummy and his word for most fruit, especially when he doesn't have any left on his plate as in "mo mummy" with lots of pointing and flailing -chachis-crackers or cheerios

Playing peet a bee with Audrey in the lazy susan. Always a fun way to wait for breakfast to be ready.

favorite foods: roasted vegetables-especially sweet potatoes and cauliflower, chicken, berries, bananas, toast with butter and jam, black beans, carrots. You get the idea. His list of favorites goes on and on.

favorite books: He wants to read On the Night You were Born every night before bed. He loves Tumble Bumble and calls it the ding dong beeta because it has a silly doorbell scene. He has a book called Baby Faces that goes, "happy baby, sad baby, angry baby, worried baby, hungry baby, etc." with a baby making the matching faces. He loves to look at that book and copy the faces. His angry baby face is just precious. He really loves all board books with simple pictures so he can learn loads and loads of new words. You know us, we love snuggling up with a good book, and he's usually up first so we get to start our morning off right.

We just can't imagine life without this bundle of love and personality. As with our other two, he is a bit slow to warm to new people or situations, but once you get him giggling, it's all over. He is my sweet, adorable, sooo ready to toddle, puppy loving, truck driving, sibling adoring, sloppy kiss giving, book reading, bath splashing, ball chasing, 8-toothed wonder. Being his mama is such a gift. Just in case you ever wonder.

My big boys-and one sister who can't get enough of her baby brother

Elliot-Before

What is it about haircuts that take cute, chubby, happy little faces and turn them into lean (okay, lean-ish), boyish faces? It's just plain wrong. I had the honor of taking three small people in to get haircuts on the same day. The lady looked at me like I was crazy. I knew Isaac and Audrey would be fine, but things can get a little dicey when Elliot hits the hot seat.

Elliot-after. See. He's huge!He started saying "Cheeeeeese!" for pictures.

His first haircut went fairly well with a minimal amount of crying, but last time was a disaster. The lady walked up to a cute, happy little Elliot sitting in my lap waiting for a haircut. Then with no hello and no warning, she started spraying his head with freezing cold water. Then she looked annoyed that he cried. How precisely did she think that was going to turn out? Anyway, after that lovely experience I was a little wary so I made an advance apology for the possible screaming to all those waiting for their haircut.

My worrying was for naught as he did great. There was a little squirming, some nervous "mamas," but all in all a smashing success. Well, he did great, but the lady never asked how he wanted his hair cut and took a few inches off with her very first snip as I started to tell her we keep his hair a bit long. Don't they usually ask before they wield their scissors? OK, guess we don't keep it long this time. So, he looks adorable, but so very big. He also looks like Isaac's chubby little twin.

Hmmm. I think they're brothers!

Audrey also got 2 inches cut off the back. So cute. I love Elliot's face here. Uh, can someone get this incredibly cuddly sister off of me?

In other big boy news, a girl has professed her love for Isaac. The first of many, I'm sure. They took dance together last year with her flirting with him the whole time by trying to stand next to him, hold his hand, keep other girls from talking to him before class. You know, classic annoying girl behavior. (I'm obviously a girl, but seriously, some things we do are so annoying.) They're in different classes now, but they both have 3-year-old sisters in the same class. They spend the 45 minutes chasing each other, coloring, climbing in the extra dance room, and other rambunctious 5 and 6 year old activities. As we were leaving she sat in his lap (as I gently, but firmly pulled her off) and said, "Brian at church loves my friend Olivia. So, I love you like that, too." Oh, Lord, here we go. Isaac was not fazed in the least, said "Oh, bye." and walked out the door as I breathed a huge sigh of relief.

Thankfully we have a few years before the interest in girls begins because I am not even close to handling that yet. But, as fast as these years have gone, it'll be here in the blink of an eye. Note to self, find an all-boys school where there isn't a girl for For now, I'm trying to explain why brothers and sisters can be ambulance drivers together even if they're married to other people. If that's not confusing enough, I'm also trying to explain that brothers and sisters still can't be married to each other even if they're ambulance drivers in the same ambulance. Did you follow that logic? Confusing, I know, but just another of our many long and involved wonders. Their bodies are strong, their hearts are pure, they're cute as can be, and their minds are busy and bright. Just in case you ever wonder.

Snowy Day

Yes, it's October 12. Yes, we got over three inches of snow today. Yes, I should be complaining about the fact that it is too early for weather this cold. But, if I were busy complaining, I would have missed my two oldest kids' giddy, thrilled shrieks, their polite pleas to play outside as soon as breakfast was over, the ear to ear smiles at the very thought of bundling up, making trails through the snow, and sledding down the hill on the side of our house as fast as their little sled could carry them. That would be just wrong! So, we bundled up and headed out for our first snowy day. Not what we're doing most mornings at 9:15, but that's a perk of homeschooling. The smiles say it all!
"Push me as fast as you can."

Elliot doesn't remember this cold, chilly stuff. He was too stuffy to actually sled, but I couldn't miss a photo op.

Just gorgeous! And so happy to be out in the slushy mess.

Catching as many snowflakes as possible. Audrey is much more resistant to the cold as a 3 year old. Last winter she wimped out right away, but she loved every minute of it today. Although that could have something to do with the fact that it was about 20 below zero for the majority of last winter. At any rate, I'm looking forward to many snowy adventures with my three sweeties.
Just in case you ever wonder!

Theology, tired mama style

I believe there comes a point in every person's life when they decide that making supper is just not worth it. Too tired, too lazy, too engrossed in a book, too blah. Pre-kids I would grab an apple, pop some popcorn, or pour a bowl of cereal. Post-kids? Anarchy would ensue if I tried to give my kids one piece of fruit and a bowl of sugary grains for any meal. But, alas, I was not making supper. After hearing my reasons, I think you would agree with me.

1-my husband is finishing up approximately a 100 hour work week. I know he's tired and misses us like crazy so I feel bad for him, too, but mama is worn out!

2-my baby has been trying so hard to fight off his little cough and runny nose. I've been cleaning toys, wiping noses, holding a tired baby, and trying to keep the other two from getting it. Sadly, they like to kiss and hug their sick baby about 3,000 times each day so, sadly, tonight Isaac is exhausted, has a slightly runny nose, and complained of a sore, achy back.

3-Elliot, bless his heart for wanting to potty train, peed all over his clothes and my clothes right before church started. The church service where we went up to the front of the sanctuary to present my big 3-year-old with her bible. Turns out it's kind of tricky to get 15-month old boys to point their potty where it's supposed to go. Turns out 15 month old boy bladders hold a remarkable amount of urine. It was my mistake and I paid the price by walking around church with pee on both of us. Lesson learned.

So, back to supper. I don't mind the cooking, but the chopping and mixing while keeping 3 small, slightly ill little people entertained and then cleaning up my big mess for three meals and one or two snacks each day gets old. I placed a call to a restaurant that delivers, and they chopped, mixed, and cooked while I drove trucks with Elliot, got my hair brushed, washed, and "cut in a circle" by Audrey, and had my nails clipped and painted by Isaac. Yes, we have very active imaginations and no, I didn't let my three year old anywhere near my head with a scissors. Although she did leave the room saying she was going to find a snipper so I got a little worried, but she came back scissoring her fingers.

I wrote the check for the meal and felt this pull on my heart to give a big tip. I'm usually a 20% tipper and think that's totally fair, but tonight I just couldn't shake this feeling that I should give a bigger tip. Being the cheapskate that I am, I tried to argue with my conscience, but something kept nudging me to just write the check with the big tip. I did and continued playing. Ding Dong. Delivery man is here, kids get excited, start talking a mile a minute, dog is barking, I'm holding Elliot and trying to negotiate a bag of food while the man asks for my driver's license. Get the idea? Things are kind of busy. I get the license and the man smiles at me and says, "Seeing your kids here makes me so happy. I'm so excited to get home. We just brought my first baby home from the hospital today." I smiled and congratulated him and asked a few questions about the baby. He was obviously an extremely proud dada as he elaborated on each question and smiled from ear to ear the entire time.

Then he thanked me for the big tip. He actually said, "And, wow, thanks for the big tip. That is so great." I said that I must have known he had a new baby and needed more diapers. He made a joke about how many diapers a little baby uses and how he already had to pick more up on the way home.

As we talked, I realized that my nudge was God. No wonder my cheapness lost out to my conscience. A man who has to leave his 3 day old son to deliver food is probably not too well-off financially. It reminded me of our sermon today. A man asks Jesus how to get to heaven and Jesus tells him to give all of his possessions to the poor and follow him because it is easier for a camel to fit through the eye of a needle than a rich man to enter the gates of heaven. My bigger than 20% tip is obviously a drop in the bucket to what I can do to help others. But it may have made a difference to the man who got the tip. Not that it will change his life, but I know it made him smile.

I am so comfortable here. My house is warm, my car starts, clean water pours from no fewer than 7 faucets in my house, one income affords me the pleasure of staying home with my children, the list goes on and on. I know I don't have to be miserable and poor to show my love for God, but I also know there is so much more I could be doing. Gives me a lot to think and pray about.

But, for tonight, I prayed for the man who brought us our food and his new baby, Michael, at home. I prayed that we might show our love for God by serving those who need Him the most. While I prayed, Elliot clasped his chubby little fingers, taking breaks to shove mass quantities of food in his mouth. Audrey nodded her head and gave a few uh-huhs as I prayed. Isaac kept his eyes pressed tightly closed. I silently prayed that, for as many times as I ask God to bless my kids, they would turn around and be a blessing to others. Because we have already been blessed beyond belief by our health, our financial security, our great fortune at being born into middle-class families in the United States, the love that we have for one another. "To whom much has been given, much will be expected." Just in case you ever wonder.

Getting by with a little help from his friends

Audrey and Isaac love helping Elliot walk. They usually forget he has stubby, chubby, little rookie legs and go much too fast so he gives up on them very quickly lest he get dragged through the living room. This time they each grabbed a hand and went just the right speed for our little almost walking man.

I look at this and think of all the times they'll lean on each other for help: physical help, moral support, a good laugh, a cleansing cry, an "oh my gosh did our parents really just do that?" eye roll. They will share experiences with each other that no one else will understand, inside jokes that make their gut ache from all the laughing and leave other people shaking their heads in confusion.

I look at this and think of my brother. I think of his car dance, the poems we write for each other on special occasions, the song he sang to his wife at their wedding, the way he plays with his son, our bike rides up the big hill, the time I kicked his face and his teeth stuck to his braces, our hours of watching ESPN, the time he threw up after a mean carnie left us on the spider ride for waaaay too long, the sincere, humbling, beautiful way he prays and worships God, the many times we've rolled our eyes at our parents' antics, card games, tears, but mostly laughter. I wonder what my kids will remember about their years growing up together. I can't wait to watch them grow as individuals, as siblings, and hopefully as life long friends. Just in case you ever wonder.

,

A glimpse of sunshine

I know I'm biased, but I look at my beautiful, radiant little girl and I wonder how in the world she came from me. Her vibrant personality matches her glowing hair, charming smile, cute as a button nose, and penetrating eyes so perfectly.

We took advantage of our second day of sunshine this month and the last day before it starts to snow by heading on a nature walk. We kicked, threw, and sashayed a pile of leaves together for some tossing, jumping, and playing. I don't miss the hours and hours of raking resulting in bags upon bags of leaves from our old house, but I wish we had enough to do some leaf jumping. Oh well, at least we have forests nearby.

Here is our sunshine basking in the sunshine. She makes me smile. Just in case you ever wonder!

Who needs snow? We make leaf angels.

Having a blast tossing leaves at everyone.

Peek-a-boo!

Baby steps

Are they called baby steps when you're a 15 1/2 month old, 27 + pound baby?

At any rate, I present. . .

One of Elliot's first, uncertain, where's a grown up to grab me, how the heck do I stop this train steps. His huge, dimply smile shows the pride our growing up boy feels at his newest party trick. He's only done it a few times and much prefers to hold on to our hands, but he is so close. What a big boy!

International travel without the passports

While it would be lovely to travel to the locales where some of our favorite homeschool books are set, it's just not in the budget. I'm sure we could swing a road trip to OH, the setting of Lentil by Robert McCloskey, but that's not nearly as exciting as Paris, home of Madeline by Ludwig Bemelmans or Japan, where A Pair of Red Clogs by Matsuko Matsano takes place. So, we do the next best thing and bring a little bit of Paris, Ohio, and Japan to our house.

Here are Isaac and Audrey drooling over their breakfast of homemade crepes as I torture them by first taking their picture. It was my first attempt at crepes, and while not even in the same league as we had in France, they were quite tasty. Isaac informed me that I could make them for every breakfast, but definitely (his word) for his birthday breakfast. Audrey liked them with just fruit and honey, no homemade whipped cream for her. The rest of us think she's crazy, but, fine, that just meant more for us.
With their large balls and their large coins-quarters.

We built the Eiffel tower out of blocks, painted the flag, looked through photographs of Paris, learned about the Seine, ate cassoulet, another french food, and learned a few words from our resident used-to-take-french man, Jim. We sorted things by size because Madeline was the smallest of all and learned about the different ways to make the number 12 because there were 12 little girls in the house. Good fun was had by all.

Here are the kids testing the acoustics in the bathroom because Lentil says the sound of his harmonica improves 100% in his bathroom. The kids couldn't really tell the difference. Lentil lays in the bathtub with a pillow, one leg draped over the side, so Audrey had to grab her pillow and set everyone up in the same position for the pictures. Then we went outside and had a harmonica/drum/confused baby in stroller parade. It was quite comical, especially when it started to drizzle. We're doing nothing to assuage our neighbors of the crazy homeschooling family stereotypes with those silly antics!

This week we're reading A Pair of Red Clogs. We haven't made it to the United Noodle store, an Asian grocer/deli, since Elliot's been waging battle against a case of the crummies, but we'll go next week. We want to get some real tea, soba noodles, and reusable chopsticks. Plus the kids will pick their own lunch at the deli. They're so excited. But, until then, we pulled out the tea set from Audrey's grandma's tea party last spring, made our own kimonos, and ate lunch on cushions at the coffee table. Not the ideal spot for a one year old to eat, but it worked out and the raspberry tea that Isaac spilled all stayed on the table. Whew!! That was a close one.

So, our passports remain quite empty, but we're having lots of fun learning about the world through our books and adventures. The kids remain ever the pleasant and eager learners, which is such a treat. Elliot remains happy to be held or push a truck around until he's done being held or pushing a truck around, at which point I pull out the play dough. He plays with that long enough for us to finish what we need to do. If there's anything we didn't get to, Isaac and I finish up once the other two are snoozing. A day in the life of a young homeschooling family. Never a dull moment. Just in case you ever wonder.

Silliness around every corner!