Life on Sylvan Drive

After Four Years and 1,479 Posts, It's Time

2011-01-18T00:01:00.021-05:00

Time to say goodbye?

Not exactly. After all, goodbye is so final.

How about this: I'm moving!!!

That's right. After four fantastic years of blogging here at Life on Sylvan Drive, the itch to move got hold of me, so this will be my last post here on this site. My new site is here. ;-)

If you've been around for long, you already know that I rarely do giveaways--once a year when my blogiversary rolls around, and maybe when a new baby is born--that's it. However, since this is the anniversary of my very first post {which seems} so long ago, I'm excited to do a giveaway now to thank you, my readers who have truly become friends, for walking down Sylvan Drive with me.

The prize up for grabs is a $20 gift card to Christianbook.com, and all you have to do to enter is leave a comment on this post OR a comment on the first post of my new blog (or leave one on both, and you'll get two chances to win). Make sure I have an email address for you, so I can send the gift card electronically. I'll randomly choose a winner on Friday, January 21.

It's been an incredible, life-changing journey these past four years. From the bottom of my heart, thank you, friends--and ~~goodbye~~ see you around!! :)

Jeff's Customers Really Like Him

2011-01-17T10:37:00.002-05:00

They must anyway! They sure give him a lot of stuff! :)

This is by no means an exhaustive list, but here are some things they've given him through the years:
~ garden produce - this is a given; when you live in a gardening community, you're going to be given extra tomatoes and cucumbers and zucchini and whatever else the grower can't use up :)
~ oranges
~ corn-on-the-cob from a "famous" local stand
~ pumpkin bread
~ tickets to the circus
~ a free ride on Cass Scenic Railroad
~ clothes for the boys
~ clothes for Jeff
~ clothes for me
~ puppies :)
~ venison
~ bear meat

There are definite advantages to being an old-fashioned, small-town barber!

Saturday, Jeff called from work and announced his latest gift:

Ducks.

My thoughts raced, "Ducks? DUCKS? Why would someone give him ducks? Don't we have enough animals around here? And where are we going to put them? We don't have a pond!"

Then he clarified:

Dead ducks.

My thoughts took off again, "Oh, duck meat. Somebody shot some ducks and cut them up and gave Jeff some of the meat. He'll bring home some Ziploc baggies of duck meat; and although I don't really know how to cook duck, we'll figure something out. I can look up some info on the Internet."

I still didn't have it quite right.

This is what those ducks looked like:

Not exactly nice neat baggies of meat.

Jeff was not discouraged. His little boy tribe gathered around him and watched as their Daddy-Who-Can-Do-Anything did...well...something to the ducks to get some meat to grill for dinner. The boys thought it was grand.

I, on the other hand, didn't enjoy it quite as much. I'm not a vegetarian, and I've lived in the country long enough and spent enough time during my growing-up years on my grandparents' farm to know, for example, that the delicious fried chicken Grandma served for dinner was pecking around the barnyard just the day before and the juicy steaks we enjoyed recently came from the steer whose dark brown eyes I gazed into last summer. It's the cycle of life, and I get that.

But these ducks were so pretty! In a flash, I turned into one of those kinds of people who doesn't mind eating meat, but would rather buy it wrapped in cellophane at the grocery store, and who doesn't want to think too much about where it came from before that!

If only Jeff's customers weren't quite so generous! ;-)

I'm Having a Nightmare about a Summer Vacation

2011-01-16T14:29:00.000-05:00

Yesterday's post stirred up all kinds of memories for me, and Emily's comment stirred up even more. :) I tell ya, for all the fun and excitement that vacations bring, there's an awful lot of work involved...and some not-so-fun moments. Now that I've got six months under my belt, it's easy to laugh as I look back on the unglamorous moments from that vacation; but I wasn't laughing so heartily then! Wanna laugh along with me? Here are some of those moments:

~ Shav pooping in the bathtub four - FOUR - times in a row...I was attending one of the evening sessions with Josiah and David, and Jeff was in the hotel room with Tobin and Shav...the boys were in the tub, Shav pooped, Jeff got the boys out, cleaned the tub, put the boys back in to clean them up, Shav pooped...this happened four times...selfishly I was very glad that I happened to be at the evening session that night!...did I mention it was four times? ;-)

~ injuring my toe...who would have guessed that a little toe could produce so much pain?

~ sitting on the floor of the tiny bathroom at 10:00 PM with Tobin in my arms and the light turned off...Shav was having *somewhat* of a difficult time going to sleep the first night in the hotel, and so was Tobin, imagine that!...Tobin's every noise made it worse for Shav, and since I was alone with the four boys (since it was Jeff's turn to go to a session), I decided the easiest thing was to take Tobin into the bathroom where Shav couldn't hear him...I sang in a whisper to Tobin as I cuddled with him in the bathroom, until I was sure Shav was soundly asleep...not the most comfortable environment for cuddling, but at least it worked!

~ putting Shav down for an afternoon nap in the playpen we took with us, then putting Tobin on the floor between the wall and a bed...he had a pillow and a blanket...then I laid down on the floor with another pillow and blanket to block his escape so he couldn't go over and "visit" Shav...laying down on the floor makes my back hurt almost instantly, but it was a small price to pay for giving Shav the ability to go to sleep...sleep is golden, in such situations...Tobin never did go to sleep there, but later after Shav was snoozing, I let Tobin wander around the room and play quietly (which he did a really good job of)...he finally fell asleep standing up!

~ I've already mentioned the difficult afternoon we had on Friday of that week: trying to enjoy the Creation Museum while dealing with missed naps, an unruly toddler, terrible heat, and sour attitudes...sleep was such a relief that afternoon...doesn't David look like a little angel here? :)

~ after those calm-producing naps, we went out for dinner; but while there, Jeff started feeling really poorly...he actually got horribly sick, and spent most of the night making trips to the bathroom...we were planning to take another day of vacation and come back through Ohio, but we ended up heading home a day early because he was so miserable and we just couldn't wait to be home...we weren't sure how to get home however, because of his frequent need for a bathroom :)...the thought of towing an outhouse suddenly became appealing!...but in the end, God granted sweet relief to Jeff so that we could make it home without too many stops :)

~ we did have to make one unplanned stop on the way home...Tobin threw up, adding to the "adventure" of it all...we stopped at a rest area and did our best to get him and his carseat cleaned up before hitting the road again for home

~ the mess in our car was horrendous...there was stuff everywhere, and my neatly-packed suitcases with which we started our journey somehow vomited their contents all over everything...add to that the germs and smell from the sickness, and it was pretty nasty...Tobin's throw-up was just the "icing on the cake!"

By this time, we were sort of throwing our hands up in the air, laughing at how ridiculous it all was, and wondering what else was going to happen. No wonder home was so attractive to us when we finally arrived! When we got home, got everybody into the house, bathed and put the kids in bed, and emptied the car, we decided that we didn't want any more vacations any time soon!!! :)

I'm Dreaming of a Summer Vacation

2011-01-15T23:53:00.002-05:00

In the almost four years that I've been doing this blog, I've learned a few things about myself. For one thing, I've discovered that I rarely do a good job of posting pictures and writing about the vacations that we've had. You'd think that such exciting events that are really a highlight of the year would warrant considerable blog space; but for some reason, I never seem to get around to doing thorough posts on them. I'm sure that's caused by the fact that when I come back from vacation, life is extra busy for a while as we unpack, catch up on laundry, and get back into the swing of regular life, so it makes sense that I wouldn't immediately devote much time to posting about the vacation. But shouldn't I get around to it sometime?? :)

So, in an effort to correct that tendency, I'm sitting here on a cold winter's night, working on this post that I started half a year ago, relishing the sight of these pictures of knobby little boy knees sticking out from shorts, remembering how easy it was to dress the family back in the summer, feeling the sticky weight of July heat that made popsicles so appealing, being astonished by how young all the boys looked just six months ago, and hearing again the laughter that comes from time away, especially with friends!

Because so much time has passed, I'll give a few basic facts about our vacation again. We, along with two other families, traveled to Tennessee to the Defending the Faith conference held there. We stayed at Wilderness at the Smokies, the hotel directly connected to the conference center, and we had an absolute blast there. We definitely took advantage of the fact that our stay at the hotel included free admission to the waterparks. :) After the conference, we headed to northern Kentucky to visit the Creation Museum before returning to Virginia. That's the condensed version.

Now I'll expand on that... :)

I loved the architecture and design of the hotel--very neat and attractive and appealing to the eye. When we first walked in our room, I thought, "Oh, this is great! They did a great job decorating this!" By the end of our time, I was still enthused about the decorations, but less so about the size of the room. Six people in that room for a few days felt very cramped, and it also got pretty smelly. Really, all it takes to smell up a hotel room is one poopy diaper; and you can be sure there was more than just one during our time there! :)

One of the highlights of staying in a hotel for our boys is the chance to watch TV, so we turned it on some for them while we were there, but we didn't want them to veg in front of it the whole time. Tobin discovered that a chair pulled up to the sink and a plastic cup provided great entertainment. :)

We had a little refrigerator in our room, and we had taken some food with us so that we wouldn't have the expense of eating out for every meal. Granola bars, nectarines, plums, chips, etc. - basically, just munchy stuff, but stuff that we could fill our tummies with nevertheless. After doing that for a little while though, we decided one evening to go out for a "real" dinner, and we ended up at Bass Pro Shops. It happened to be Shav's birthday, so he celebrated turning one by going to Bass Pro Shops. :)

I can't remember what we ate, but I do remember that it tasted SO GOOD. After having lived on munchies for a while, that hot meal seemed incredibly delicious. :) I remember that it took a while for the food to come, but there was plenty to look at while we were waiting. David looks enthralled... :)

No wonder! This was the view! Lots of interesting things to look at, for sure. :)

Family times are a treasure. :)

I'm sure if I woke up Josiah and David right now and asked them what they liked best about our vacation, they would say, "The waterpark!" But close behind that on their list of favorite things from our vacation would be their encounter with this man.

Buddy Davis, the one and only! :) My boys knew of him from videos we'd borrowed from the library, but to be able to see him in person and shake his hand and participate in the kid's classes he led and listen to him perform his music and buy one of his CDs (Josiah saved up money to take along on the trip, and with that money he bought a Buddy Davis CD) and, yes, take this picture with him - well, that was terribly exciting for my boys! During the days we were there, we happened to run into Buddy several times in the hallways of the hotel and conference center; and each time, I could feel the shiver of excitement run through Josiah and David. Each time, Buddy was unfailingly warm and gracious. His kindness was definitely a highlight of the trip for Josiah and David!

Of all the speakers that we heard at the conference, a few stand out even to this day in my memory. Ken Ham, of course, is very articulate; and I enjoyed his presentations very much. I also enjoyed the lessons given by Voddie Baucham...

Wow! What a speaker! I had never seen or heard him in real life before, so I didn't really know what I was in for; but I found my attention captivated as soon as he began to speak. And the best part? We didn't simply enjoy his lessons and feel encouraged; we were challenged by them. That's what we were there for--to learn, to grow, to be challenged--and Voddie did not disappoint. Excellent, excellent, excellent!

I didn't take a picture of either of these men, but two others were particularly noteworthy in my mind. One was Dr. Jason Lisle and the absolutely amazing facts about space that he shared. Without a doubt, "the heavens declare the glory of God," as Psalm 19 tells us! The other was John Elliott, a musician who led in worship at various times during the concert. The first time we heard him, he taught the audience a song he wrote, "Yet I Will Rejoice." I loved it immediately, had to buy the CD it was on so I could bring it home with me, and have listened to it innumerable times since then. Besides the beauty of the music and the power of the words, it is also so meaningful to me because of all the memories of the conference that are tied up in it for me. All I have to do is hear the beginning of that song, and I'm swept back in time to that conference and the glorious bliss of standing in that huge hall and singing that song with so many others. Incredible!

Before we went, I was not at all sure how our two little guys would handle long days of meetings so Jeff and I set our expectations low, as far as how many of the sessions we would actually be able to attend, and hoped for the best! As it turned out, we were abundantly blessed by the help given us by the families we traveled with and the many willing hands that would reach out for a squirmy Tobin to entertain or the handles of a stroller that needed pushing so Shav could fall asleep. Those two families have lavished us with helpful service so many times, so I shouldn't have been surprised...but I was. :) I was grateful for sessions where I could actually sit up front, open a notebook to take notes, and pay attention to the speaker--what luxury! :)

There were other times, however, when it was just easier to park myself in the back of the huge room with Tobin and Shav, so that they (particularly Tobin) would have room to move around and so that I wouldn't have to worry too much if they made a little noise. We had plenty of company in the back of the room; LOTS of other parents were there with their young children, too. :)

As I look at these pictures six months after the fact, I don't even remember what Tobin was doing in some of them. But I do remember how much stress it released to allow him this room to move, and I do think he's completely adorable! :)

After the conference was over, we (along with many other conference participants) headed north to the Creation Museum. This beautiful sunset sky made the journey achingly gorgeous for a time.

At the Creation Museum... The topic of creationism is a HUGE one, and I won't even touch on it tonight. But I will say this: we thought the museum was very well done and extremely attractive. Definitely not some dinky little museum with a few bones in it. I'd like to go back someday...when there's not quite as many people there. ;-) (It was very crowded the day we were there, because of the conference participants who did like us and visited it after the conference.)

Friends make anything more fun! :)

In the interest of keepin' it real, I'll say that the day we visited the museum was a really terrible day for us as a family. Attitudes were horrible, obedience was nowhere to be found, fatigue was at an all-time high, we were just hanging on by a thread! We ended up not spending as much time at the museum as we had originally planned because what we REALLY needed was some rest time back at the hotel. It seemed like on this day, all the excitement of the trip caught up with us, and we just crashed. Plus, it was about a hundred million degrees outside, and our walk through the lovely grounds around the museum was about as relaxing as a stroll on the surface of the sun. ;-)

Back in the hotel, Tobin, David, and Jeff (and maybe Josiah?) quickly fell asleep; and things were much better after some rest. But during that time of quiet, I had the pleasure of watching Shav, and I smile just remembering this. There was a full-length mirror on the door of the closet, and he had the best time seeing himself in that mirror. You could tell he was simply enthralled by that little boy he kept seeing--the boy who would wave back at him and smile at him and scoot towards him. It was precious. :)

We wanted to get a group shot of the three families together, but this was the best we could do. Not the greatest pictures (I can hardly find my David--I think he was behind Joelle?), but so special to me because of the memories associated with them and the people in them. These friends are treasures!

A few other memories float through my head...

When we were standing in line at the Creation Museum, someone who knew us from when we lived in San Diego recognized us and spoke to us. That was definitely a fun reconnection for us!

Driving through Virginia and Tennessee and Kentucky, we saw so much beauty! We saw so many open spaces, we saw rivers, we saw butterflies, we saw hills and valleys, we saw trees like a green shag carpet. Sometimes it's good to just get in the car and drive so our eyes can be opened to the overwhelming beauty in the world around us.

Road trips are always appreciated by me, especially because they give me time to talk with Jeff. That's probably the best part of driving in a car for long distances! :) On our vacation, another thing I did to pass the time in the car was reading aloud a Laura & Mary book (On the Banks of Plum Creek, maybe?). As we made the final, long journey home, I read quite a few chapters and kept everyone's mind diverted from how many hours we'd been in the car. It was really pleasant. It was also really emotional for me! I'm apparently an emotionally unstable person because I've discovered that I CANNOT read those books without crying! I would be reading along and get to some dramatic part and start to really feel what Ma must have felt...and then my throat would seize up and my eyes would start to water and I'd have to put the book over my face until I could compose myself enough to go on. Josiah and David are used to this, but even still they can't help but roll their eyes slightly as they ask, "Are you going to cry again?" :)

Even though that vacation was so much fun and so memorable, it was inexpressibly good to be home again. I remember just sitting and looking around at everything. I remember feeling so grateful to be back. I remember Josiah saying that he liked sleeping in his own bed again. :) I remember being glad to sleep in my own bed again, too!!

Ah, vacations! I'm so grateful that six months ago, we got to have such a wonderful one!

There's No One Like You, Tobin Bear

2011-01-14T23:53:00.004-05:00

My dearest Tobin,

"You are so special," I often whisper to you as I kiss you goodnight. "There's no one like you!"

I wonder if your newly-turned-three-year-old brain ever thinks, "Why does she say that so often?" :) Just in case you do have that thought someday, I'll go ahead and answer the question now.

In a nutshell, I hope you never feel lost in the crowd of boys in this Fisher family. To state the obvious, you are not the oldest, nor the youngest. You are one of four boys. When we found out during my pregnancy with you that we would have our third son, we heard the phrase "another boy" a lot (and you can imagine how often we heard that after your little brother Shav was born!). I've previously written about that term: in particular, how I dislike the connotation it gives, and how I delight in the uniqueness inherent in each of our sons (even if we had a dozen, they would be so different from each other!). I won't say all of that again, but I will simply say that in my eyes and in God's, you are not just another Fisher boy. You are so special. Truly, there is no one like you!

~ outside, during one of the warmer days this winter...when the winter temps get into the 50s, it's time to go outside and work off some energy! ~

Would you like me to tell you some of the things that are uniquely you at this stage of life? Some of the things that stand out to me when I think about you? Some of the things that I've noticed about you that bring a smile to my face? The things I don't want to forget?

You do? Good! I'll tell you then!

~ at the end of the mini photo shoot for your hot chocolate mug ~

You were a "late" walker, of course; and your scooting method of getting around drew a lot of attention. But more subtly, when you started walking and even as a two-year-old, you had such a jaunty walk. Without saying a word, your walk seemed to communicate, "I'm important, and I have something to do and somewhere to go." I haven't seen that certain bounce in your step for a while, but I have fond memories of that jaunty little Tobin walk.

~ when I took this picture of Shav the Boy with Shav the Bear, you wanted me to take a picture of you with one of our Christmas teddy bears, too...I was glad to do so...I'm not sure if you even made the connection, but it just so happened that during this picture, in your right hand, you're holding something that {almost} shares your name: Toby the train from Thomas the Tank Engine! ~

You have a very cute way of being totally serious and earnest as you explain things and make conversation. You'll pause, tip your head to the side, act as if you're searching for the right word. You use filler words, like "and" and "um," as if to keep the attention on you so that you don't lose your audience before you've said all that you want to say. Your speech is getting clearer; but even when I had a difficult time understanding your words, I still felt like you tried very hard to have deep conversations because you were just so serious about the "words" coming out of your mouth!

More linguistic memories:
~ "No" was an easy word for you, of course. You would draw it out into quite a long word sometimes.
~ For the longest time, when you wanted to communicate "yes," you would say "ah!" In fact, it's only been within the past few days that you've switched it to "yeah," and when you made that switch, it was sudden. It almost seemed like one day it was "ah," and the next it was "yeah."
~ You don't hesitate to say a commanding "c-mere" (for "come here") when you want me to come to you or take a look at something, and sometimes you'll do a little gesture with your hand as well.
~ You used to say "oh, dear!" quite often, but have seemed to drop that habit. What I've noticed you saying a lot recently is "OK?", particularly at the end of sentences. You might say, "Me do it, OK?" or "Me not eat it, OK?"
~ One of the sweetest phrases that was uniquely a Tobin thing was adding an extra "you" after the verbs in sentences. For example, "Daddy loves me" was, coming from your lips, "Daddy love you me," and the request "help me" was "help you me!"

~ on Christmas morning, listening to Daddy read the final portion of Bartholomew's Passage ~

You're growing up so fast and so much! You're the little guy who used to scoot around and "steal" everybody's shoes, even taking them off people's feet! And then you would put them on your own feet, almost always backwards, right shoe on left foot, and left on right. Somehow that changed, and these days I rarely catch you stealing shoes. :) Also these days, you usually get your shoes on the correct feet!

Speaking of growing up and maturing...you and David, in particular, still have frequent moments of pushing each other's buttons and rubbing each other like sandpaper. I am looking forward to the growth that I am sure will be happening this year in this area! :) But one little technique I've used to help you in this is the phrase, "After you're done with it, may I please have it?" When one of your brothers (most often, David) has something that you think you need right then(!), you are slowly but surely learning to resist the temptation to reach out and snatch it from him, but instead to say, "After you're done with it, may I please have it?" Of course, in your adorable pronunciation in which you frequently leave off the initial consonant sounds, it doesn't come out quite like that; but we know what you mean, and that question goes a long way to preserve peace and harmony between you and your brothers!

~ showing off your new hot chocolate mug on Christmas morning ~

You LOVE to pray! When we sit down to eat lunch and I call on Josiah to pray, your voice pipes up first. Or when we're doing school and read Window on the World and start to pray for whatever country we just read about, you always want to pray first, and I usually have to shush you gently so that your brothers can have their turns to go first! Your prayers are usually very specific, sometimes lengthy, and always full of gratitude. For example, at lunch you might say, "Thank You, God, for food. Thank You, God, for milk. Thank You, God, for cheese. Thank You, God, for apples. Thank You, God, for cups. Amen!" Or at night, you might thank God for your bunk bed, your Bible, your blankets, "Oddy" (your pronunciation of Shavi), me, and other assorted things that come to your mind. One night recently, as you were praying before I tucked you in, David and Josiah were both in the room with us because they had listened to me read a bedtime story to you and were waiting their turn for me to tuck them into their beds. You started praying, and you happened to still be holding your new-to-you-but-really-passed-down-from-your-big-brothers Bible. You started thanking God for "this page," and then as you turned the page, you thanked Him for the next page, and then another page turn and another prayer of gratitude for that page. David said out loud what I was only thinking inside when he exclaimed, "This is going to take all night!" :)

~ eating snow back in December: your favorite part of being out in the snow was eating it, so when we had to come in because I was concerned you were getting too cold, I decided to scoop up a bowl and let you eat it at the table! :)

You are very good at falling asleep, and sometimes you even do it in your bed!! ;-) Other times, you end up sleeping on the floor, and that doesn't seem to bother you. Even when you do fall asleep in bed, it's not unusual to find a book or toy on top of you; you don't seem to mind!

Now as a three-year-old, you've almost given up naps (except recently when you've been sick; the past few days you haven't felt well, and you have taken a nap without any protest). That's earlier than I planned for you to make that transition, but not all three-year-old boys go by their mother's plan books. :) The way it happened was like this: I would tuck you in after lunch for a nap, but you would not fall asleep, so you would look at books in bed for a while (you always seem to accumulate quite a stack in your bed!) and then pop out of bed. I finally decided that I wasn't going to fight it so I didn't try to force you to get back in bed. I simply required you to stay in your room and play quietly (although we're still working on training you to do that because you get so tempted to get into the hallway to see what's going on downstairs or to peek into Josiah and David's room to see how the Lego project is going, etc.). I knew at some point, you would transition from having an afternoon nap to having quiet time just like Josiah and David do; I just didn't know it would be this soon! However, I've discovered two significant advantages to this. First, it makes it so much easier for you to go to sleep at night when you haven't had a nap. Bedtime used to be somewhat challenging because you would call out, need a drink, or invent some excuse for continued people contact when you really should have been quietly falling asleep in your bed! But without an afternoon nap, you almost always fall asleep at night very quickly, and that's wonderful. Second, now that you're on the verge of being completely potty-trained, having you awake in the afternoon makes it easy for you to go to the bathroom during those hours if you need to. You have been in underwear during some naps and stayed dry, but of course it's easier to stay dry if you're awake and can go to the bathroom when necessary!

Speaking of potty training...you were the easiest child we've potty trained so far! Some months ago, when I was still in the stress of adjusting to four young children in the house, I started the potty training process with you; but I quickly realized that stressing out about it and rushing you was just not worth it. So I backed off! In this area, I let you take the lead; and it was such a peaceful, enjoyable process (of course, you had accidents occasionally, but overall you really did great). I could hardly believe it. :) Back in mid-September, we wanted to encourage you along a little bit since the process seemed to be lagging, so we brought out the big guns: M&Ms for incentive. :) One if you peed in the potty, and two if you pooped in the potty. The results were dramatic: the very next day, you had your first really successful day. No accidents at all, and you even wore underwear on an outing to play mini golf, and you stayed dry. Fantastic! And totally worth the M&Ms we've given you during the past four months. :) These days, I only put you in a diaper for nighttime which I don't mind doing. I did notice on the morning of January 9 that your diaper was dry, so maybe I'll get brave and try you in underwear all night long fairly soon. We'll see...I'm not in a rush...I'm just proud of you for how you've taken responsibility in this area and done so well!! :)

~ one of your favorite after-dinner activities is listening to Grandma read you a story (the other one is tickling/wrestling with Daddy!) ~

Here are a few videos to capture the essence of you: you take brushing your teeth very seriously (after you do it a while, I finish up) :)...

...and you have a blast playing with your brothers. You're especially quick to learn from and imitate Josiah and David, and you try to keep up with them in their games and activities.

Finally, here's one more oh-so-precious thing about you. When I ask, "What's your name?", your response is always, "Tobin Bear!" The way you pronounce "Tobin" is more like "Bobin," but you always add "Bear" at the end. :)

Ah, yes, you are my Tobin Bear. One of a kind, formed by God from the top of your head to the tips of your toes, infinitely valuable in His sight and in ours, you are indeed a unique creation.

I love you more and more as each day passes and as you grow and develop and change and show your personality. I will never stop thanking God for giving me the privilege of being your mommy. You are an amazing gift that God gave me on your birthday!

Tobin Bear, I adore you!

With a heart full of love,
Mommy

Three Is

2011-01-12T22:16:00.002-05:00

Three is the first birthday that a child understands.

Three is bundling up in a heavy coat and new boots, and waiting for Daddy.

Three is the long-awaited day of the first Daddy-Tobin breakfast outing.

Three is riding in the "Beep" (or, as the J-pronouncing population calls it, "Jeep").

Three is opening your own gifts.

Three is a good age to receive The Boy Who Changed the World.

Three is taking birthdays seriously.

Three is starting to receive an allowance ($.30 per week, $.10 per year of life), and needing a bank in which to put it.

Three is being watched with interest by your little brother.

Three is a Hermie & Wormie puzzle.

Three is a snuggly ostrich from Grandpa and Grandma.

Three is needing Daddy to read the cards.

Three is being excited about a big package.

Three is loving Fisher-Price tools.

Three is bopping your head to a card that sings.

Three is chocolate cake with chocolate icing and sprinkles.

Three is blowing out the candles all by yourself.

Three is playing with your new toy right away.

Three is Tobin!

Three is BIG!

And one more...

Three is ADORABLE. ;-)

The Last Night as a Two-Year-Old

2011-01-11T23:01:00.000-05:00

Once upon a time, I wrote a similar post to this one, only in that case, it was for David on the night before his 4th birthday. Somehow, time rushed on, and here I sit on the eve before Tobin turns 3. He'll never be 2 again. Rather than be melancholy about that, I'm going to celebrate it--rather, celebrate him. And so, my dear Tobin, this is for you: one last look at you as a two-year-old, right before I tucked you in bed tonight.

It's a little strange to look back on this post announcing my pregnancy with you...

...and this post announcing your birth...

...and realize that those posts were about YOU! We barely knew you then--just the tip of the iceberg--but without a doubt, we have delighted, during the past three years, in the gradual unveiling of your personality and all the unique attributes that make you you. You are so very special, Tobin Bear...

...and so very, very loved!

Sweet Hearts

2011-01-10T23:57:00.001-05:00

Sometimes I worry about the future.

I realize that that statement does nothing to set me apart as unique...and everything to show that I'm just like almost every other person on this beautiful spinning ball we call Earth. But even though worrying is a common condition for us humans, I believe it's not only wrong, but also completely useless! It doesn't change anything.

When I think about the days to come, I never worry about money, rarely worry about health, but often feel concern about how my kids will turn out. Not only do I hope they'll be kind and honest and friendly and helpful, I also, to borrow Sally's words from a comment on my last post, "want my children there in that spiritual family SO BADLY." I know exactly how she feels.

At times, I wonder how the teen years will go for us. In the same way that I don't buy into the mindset that the toddler years have to be atrocious, I also don't believe that the teen years have to be horrible. But I do realize that there is a natural, God-ordained, breaking-away process that occurs during those years, and I wonder whether I--and my sons--will be able to handle that with grace and dignity.

When thoughts of the future crowd into my mind and threaten to tarnish the present, this thought comes back to me over and over and brings comfort to replace my anxiety: I still have their hearts.

I don't know what the future holds. I don't know how they'll act in 10 years. I don't know what kind of heartbreak may come to me as I watch them make choices to which I'm totally opposed.

But here and now, on this day in January 2011, I still have their hearts. They are still tender towards me. They are not, however, little robots who obediently do whatever I ask them without ever complaining or arguing. They're human--I'm human--and unfortunately, sin abounds too often in our household. But even in the midst of that, even when they act selfishly towards their brothers, even when they're slow to obey, even when they have an attitude about doing a chore they dislike...even then, their hearts are still soft.

I wish I could adequately capture the times when I see this softness demonstrated so beautifully. I try to write down their words; but it's more than words that expresses what I'm trying to communicate--it's their tone of voice, their facial expression, the tilt of their shoulders, the excitement barely contained in their little bodies. I feel my attempts fall pitifully short, but what else do I have to help me remember these times?

Here are some recent examples of their sweet, sweet hearts:

David, who is social to the nth degree, was over at a friend's house when a pretty major argument broke out between two sons in that family. Their mother apologized to me later and expressed her regret that my boys had had to see that, but I certainly wasn't casting blame because we have our fair share of rivalry around here for sure! When I was talking about it later with David, he said in a quivering voice, "Maybe for the first time ever, I just wanted to come home." This is the boy who wistfully exclaims whenever we're leaving a place to come home, "I wish I could live here!" He has said that about numerous friends' homes, as well as the park, a play area in the Charlottesville mall, the cousins' house, the playground at the homeschool co-op we used to be a part of, etc. He LOVES being with people, so for him to be so disturbed by the fight he witnessed showed me the soft side of his heart.

Another example involving David: a while back, he had a dream about heaven, and this is what he told me about the dream. In it, God said he could come back to earth for three days, but David wanted four so he could go to Disney World on one day, Disneyland on another day, and Aunt Lori's for two days. Then he said he wanted one more so he could spend it with me! In the dream, God wasn't wearing the blue "sash" that Jesus is often pictured with, just a white robe; and his voice was booming. David got teary-eyed because he wants us to all go to heaven together, and I was thinking, "Oh, how sweet," then he said that the way that he got killed was by a Jedi! Not so sweet after all. :)

Heaven is very real to David. In fact, after we almost got into a head-on collision on Switchboard Road back in November, he said, "I almost wish I would have died so that I could have gone to heaven and seen God already." It reminded me of this conversation we had back in November of 2009.

Today David told me that, when he grows up, he wants to live in the little gray house my parents just moved out of. That would be wonderful for him to live there, but I couldn't help but think of another little child who once told her parents she would never leave but would build a house on the top of their hill and stay with them always. That girl, amazingly enough, grew up and decided that she could indeed leave them, drawn by her heart to such far-away places as California and Israel! :) When David strikes out on his own, I won't hold him to the desire he expressed today. :)

Another way my boys demonstrate their sweet hearts is by public displays of affection...and when it involves my sons and me, I'm a big fan of PDA! :) At concerts, they want to sit close, even sitting on my lap. During one of our potlucks, Josiah paused as he walked by me during the Bible study portion and kissed my cheek. When we're going into his violin lessons, he sometimes reaches for my hand as we cross the street. As long as they want to express their love to me in that way, I'll gladly receive it!

Josiah sometimes asks questions about the future--his future--and I can tell he's trying to plan out how he's going to live his life. For example, in the middle of a conversation, he might blurt out, "How long can people be engaged?" And he'll have this certain look in his eyes and a tiny smile at the corner of his lips, and I'll know that he's asking because he's thinking about her ("her" being a wonderful girl that has captured Josiah's eight-year-old heart but who shall remain nameless on this blog). :)

One day, Josiah and David were talking about their weddings, and the conversation turned to maybe having their brothers be best men/groomsmen in their weddings. They were concerned because they didn't know what girls to choose for bridesmaids! I reassured them that their bride could choose all the girls. :) Josiah was relieved because the girl he wants to marry has sisters that she could ask to be in the wedding!

On another day, Josiah and David got into some tiff; of course, I don't remember what it was about because such tiffs are rarely about anything truly important! But for some reason, when it was time to apologize and forgive and hug and move on, Josiah was unexpectedly stubborn and would not humble out to open his arms and hug David. I was so surprised and saddened by this hardness of heart that I literally started crying. I know that women can use tears in a manipulative manner, and I do not want to do that with my sons any more than with my husband! So I wasn't trying to put on a show to make Josiah sorry for what he had done; I was just genuinely shocked by his behavior, and my tears fell. That unlocked the door to his heart, and his whole demeanor changed as his stubbornness melted away and he dissolved into my arms--and soon into his brother's arms for a conciliatory hug. Needless to say, I was relieved that the hardness was so quickly replaced by softness again!

Last example: our family has been dealing with some sickness recently, and we're such a sharing bunch that we just seem to pass it around to everyone in our household! Fortunately, it's not a throwing-up sickness, for which I'm tremendously grateful; but the fevers, aches, coughing, and runny noses we've had aren't a barrel of laughs either. This morning, David was feeling poorly, so before he even ate breakfast, he wanted me to snuggle with him. I gladly would; but at the time, I had to give Shav his breakfast and do a few other things that I can't think of at the moment. It gladdened my heart to hear Josiah say to David, "I'll snuggle with you!" They did, and then Tobin joined them...

...and then they clamored for me to put Shav with them. I obliged. :)

In a day that held its customary share of tumultuous moments, this was an oasis of peace; and just like Mary, I "treasured up all these things and pondered them in [my] heart."

These boys are so precious to me; and tonight, what I'm most grateful for is their softness. Sure, I hope they'll grow up to be mighty men, ready to go out and conquer the world; but I also hope that I--and much more importantly, God--will always have their hearts.

They'll always be my sweethearts, but beyond that, I hope they'll always keep their sweet hearts. But for today, all I can do is reject worry and instead take care to notice and appreciate that I still have their hearts. What a gift! What a responsibility.

I Don't Take This for Granted {Updated}

2011-01-10T01:25:00.002-05:00

* Updated*

As it turns out, I didn't do a very good job of guessing who had written what notes, particularly in relation to Bibles #10 and #11. Thankfully, my mother sat down with me this evening after supper and set me straight about the real author, so I have now gone back through this post and rewritten some parts to make the necessary corrections. The part that really touched me is that my granddad had written most of the notes, whereas I had assumed that it was my grandma. By the time I was old enough to be thinking deeply about spiritual matters, my granddad had already progressed fairly far in his Alzheimer's Disease; so, even though I have numerous pleasant memories of him, I don't remember many significant spiritual conversations with him. To have this glimpse into his thoughts regarding God, the Bible, and his family makes these pictures even more special to me.

* Original post*

This is the kind of post which will likely make my mother cry.

This is the kind of post which will likely be rather boring to most other readers.

This is the kind of post which I will likely look back upon in years to come and be extremely thankful for!

Before Jeff's mother came for her month-long stay last fall, Jeff and I worked extensively in our library, which also functions as our guest room, to get rid of a lot of stuff and organize the remaining items to make it a pleasant, welcoming, functional room for her. We accomplished a lot, but there is still much more to do in that room. However, we were able to meet our goal of getting rid of enough stuff to eliminate some bookshelves that stuck out into the middle of the room. With them gone, the room seemed adequately spacious and neat, though not fancy in the least.

Most of the time, Jeff and I are terrible at getting rid of books. I scan the shelves and find plenty of books we could get rid of, but it just so happens that they all belong to him and he wants to keep them. He looks around and sees numerous books we no longer need, but they are mine and I can't imagine life without them. We make quite a pair. :)

We're getting better at it though; and even when it's a sacrifice, we're learning to take the plunge and say, "OK, we can give that away. Let someone else be blessed by it."

Like with these Bibles...

Oh my goodness gracious me! We have shelves full of Bibles; and since both Jeff and I are passionate about the Word of God, we view these books as precious treasures. Nevertheless, it was time to thin the ranks and pass along a few that could be used and loved by someone else.

Here are some of the Bibles we got rid of (and let it be known that the act of taking pictures of them and writing about them eased some of the pain of separation!) ... :)

********

Bible #1 - the Bible my parents gave me when I was 10 years old

While memorizing the Sermon on the Mount for school one year, I (over)zealously used my highlighter, which has faded to a dull yellow.

Having these tabs along the edge surely made it easier to find each book. The only disadvantage was that it disqualified me from using my own Bible for Mrs. Fawley's Sword Drills. (Not familiar with Sword Drills? It's simply a competition to see who can find a verse first when the teacher calls out a reference. Mrs. Fawley would say, "Romans 8:28!" for example, and the class would scramble to see who could find it first. Lots and lots of fun, and a great learning tool as well!)

********

Bible #2 - the Bible I got when I was 13 years old; among other places, I carried this with me to Mexico during a missions trip when I was 14

After growing up with the good ol' KJV, reading the text of the Good News Bible was quite a switch--a change I enjoyed!

********

Bible #3 - the NIV Study Bible my parents gave me on my 17th birthday

I was still using this one a few years later, as evidenced by the note I wrote beside Psalm 45:10-11: "received 22 July 96 during Jeff's first visit." :)

********

Bible #4 - the Bible I remember Mother using when we were children

Much harder than getting rid of my own Bibles was saying farewell to the ones belonging to my parents and other relatives. So I took the easy way out: I photographed them to blog about, then sent them home with my parents so that they could figure out what to do with them! :)

I didn't know, until I saw the above inscription, that Mother was nine years old when she was baptized.

The illustrations in this Bible were woven into the fabric of my mind as a child; and perhaps they, in part, inflamed my imagination enough to make me determined to someday visit Israel.

This Bible had occasional notes in the margins, written in my mother's neat writing.

********

Bible #5 - another Bible I remember my mother using; unfortunately the cover sustained some damage over time

She had passed this one along to me, and I enjoyed using it because of the memories of her using it. I wonder who gave me these flower petals pressed into it? ;-)

I can see clearly, in my mind, her sitting with her Bible and a small ruler, carefully underlining verses that particularly stood out to her. It must be the firstborn in her that compelled her to be so neat. :)

********

Bible #6 - this one belonged to my paternal grandmother, given to her in 1923

I'm so glad for this inscription inside it that tells the history of it.

********

Bible #7 - this Bible, the edges now crumbling, once belonged to my paternal grandfather

Granddad apparently used this in college and after. To think of him as a young man, carrying this Bible around, turning its pages, studying its words - wow, what a treasure!

I had never heard of a Precious Promise Bible. Until I saw this one, that is. :)

********

Bible #8 - this Bible with an olivewood cover was intriguing; who in my family would have something like that?

My maternal grandfather apparently, who received it from his uncle.

********

Bible #9 - this Bible came in a box

I soon discovered why: it was falling apart! That's a badge of honor for a Bible, however. No shame there!

I found an interesting piece about the Church of the Brethren ( my grandparents on both sides were members of this denomination).

But I still didn't know to whom the Bible belonged until I saw this inscription:

I never knew my great-grandfather, but I'm thrilled that he gave this Bible to his daughter, my maternal grandmother.

This article, "The Bible as Literature," had been tucked into this Bible, and was interesting to read.

********

Bible #10 - this Bible had a plain cover

I discovered gems within! Notes my granddad had written...

...about a wide range of topics...

...even "The warfare of Spirit filled believers..."

...and "Speaking in tongues." I didn't know Granddad thought much about those topics! :)

A list of his grandchildren (and this was especially touching: Premature baby boy Coy and Premature baby girl Coy were also listed)...

A record of births of his immediate family, including two sons-in-law...

A record of marriages, including my uncle who got married in Peru...

********

Bible #11 - another Bible with cover falling apart

Granddad's name, in very faint letters, on the front.

The treasure inside this one was all the notes--most written by Granddad, but this one was by Grandma: "The Lord's service a Daily one"...

I was very interested to see that Granddad wrote a polite note expressing dissatisfaction with the prescribed lessons for Sunday school. In his words, "There is a very great lack of scripture in these quarterlies. If we take the Scripture out of our Sunday School lessons it is like taking the wheat out and leaving the chaff." History repeats itself, they say; and I can hear my husband's voice saying the exact same thing about a year and a half ago!

Here's a study he did on "What the Holy Spirit Does for Us"...

...one on "Sin"...

..."Conversion"...

...and a scrap of paper that simply said, "A PLACE OF PRAYER" and "ABRAHAM BUILT AN ALTER (sic) UNTO GOD."

Then I found a piece of paper that had "Deuteronomy 6:4-7" at the top, followed by what looked like an announcement (or plea, rather) for more involvement in the Sunday school program, beneficial for both the training of children and adults. Words and sentences were crossed out and rewritten, arrows pointed here and there, phrases were inserted at various places. Did my granddad work and rework this to get the wording just right? Did he stand up and give this announcement? No matter. What really caught my attention and stirred my heart was the last line: "Come and join us in this service for our master and let us prepare for that home above."

A few days ago, we marked 12 years since my grandmother's passing from this life to the next. How poignant to be reading her words and those of my granddad and touching their Bibles and getting insight into their spiritual heartbeat, even as I remembered her death. Without a doubt, she--and my other family members whose Bibles I held in my hands--did indeed "prepare for that home above." May I faithfully do likewise.

********

And so, back to the title of this post: I Don't Take This for Granted. What don't I take for granted?

First of all, the abundance of Bibles we possess, marking our comparative economic prosperity and the ready availability of Bibles here in this country, as well as the amazing freedom we have to own and read and live out the words of the Bible. When I think of what people throughout history have done--and what people in other countries do even now--just to have one Bible, I feel like the most spoiled little girl imaginable. But if it helps, I know I'm blessed, I appreciate it, and I don't take it for granted.

Second, the legacy of faith that has been passed down to me on both my mother and my father's side is unique in today's world and exceedingly valuable. I had nothing to do with it, of course; but how grateful I am that my parents and my grandparents (and going back further than that, although I don't know the specifics) were people of deep faith, who not only owned Bibles, but read them, studied them, pored over their contents, and lived lives guided by them.

I didn't realize this until I started preparing this post, but I had Bibles from all four grandparents, as well as my mother. (My dad, to be sure, has always read and lived by the Bible, too; I guess he just hasn't given me any of them!) It's not just the Bibles that are precious to me, of course; it's also the times I remember hearing my grandparents read aloud those words and pray from their hearts to the God who wrote those words. How blessed am I!

I discovered one other gem as I looked through these Bibles: a small booklet from the little country church my maternal grandparents always attended.

Inside was a list of members, and there in the "W" section, I saw the names of my grandparents, their two children living at home (my mother was already married by this time), as well as brothers, a sister, and other members of the Winters family. This is a picture of legacy.

This is a picture of treasure.

And I am determined to never take this for granted.

Where Does a Giraffe Sleep?

2011-01-08T17:09:00.000-05:00

On the floor, of course.

During quiet time.

I couldn't help but think of a few of my favorite verses... :)

He grants sleep to those he loves.

~ Psalm 127:2b

In peace I will lie down and sleep,

for you alone, Lord,

make me dwell in safety.

~ Psalm 4:8

I don't think any giraffe sleeping in Africa tonight could possibly be more loved than this one!

Fair Flashback

2011-01-07T23:52:00.001-05:00

I started working on a much {MUCH!} longer post tonight; but as time went by, I began to realize that there was no way I could finish it tonight--that is, not if I expected to get any sleep tonight, too! Maybe I'll get a chance to finish that other post tomorrow, who knows? But in the meantime, while I was looking through my picture folders tonight, I found some photos that made me smile.

A trio of brothers...

...wearing shorts and t-shirts in the warm summer air...

...enjoying a ride...

...at the Rockingham County Fair!

Tonight, while winter's chill seems to penetrate even the solid walls of this sturdy house, I can dream of sunshine, heat...and fun at the fair! Do we really have to wait seven whole months until we can go again?? :)

A Boy and His...

2011-01-06T23:51:00.000-05:00

...brother...

...and a couple of wooden sword-like sticks...

= a spirited, friendly fight and a chance to show off one's valor.

*****

A boy and his blocks...

= hours and hours of fun, imaginative play.

*****

A boy and his snowman...

...even when they haven't seen each other since last year...

= cuddly hugs and almost more adorable cuteness than I can stand. :)

*****

A boy and his grandpa, having a little man-to-man talk in rocking chairs...

= treasure!

A Funny Thing Happened Around the Christmas Table

2011-01-04T23:43:00.004-05:00

We always get to celebrate two Christmases. The first occurs on Christmas Day; and besides our little celebration and gift-opening in the morning with just our boys and my parents, we also have the fun of having people over for dinner. Basically, any friends we have that don't have somewhere else to go that day get invited to our house! :) We've done this for years--as young marrieds in California, as expats in Israel, and now here in Virginia--and it's always interesting to see who turns up and what combinations of people end up together around our Christmas table.

The second celebration usually happens a few days later when my brother and his family from Pennsylvania come down, and any other family members that we can rope into coming are here as well. Unfortunately, it's been years since we had all my family (my parents, siblings, spouses, and kids) together in one spot; in fact, I can't even remember the last time it happened. But we celebrate with whoever can be here, and we remember those who cannot.

Besides being a chance for the adults to converse with each other, our times together are also a hoot for the younger generation. Cousins are just so much fun! It's also precious to see how quickly our boys reconnect with aunts and uncles. I may be a bit biased, but I think my sons are exceptionally warm and affectionate. ;-)

These pictures that I took during our celebration a week ago are poor technically, but the family togetherness they capture is precious to me.

Tobin made himself comfortable...

...between his aunt and uncle...

...and looked at all the pictures in the photo book they made for my parents...

...before my parents had a chance to look at it!

You woulda thought he owned that thing! :)

Anyway, what I was thinking about, when I started this post, is that as we were sitting around the stretched-out table eating, Josiah took a bite of something, felt something hard in his mouth, and discovered that one of his teeth had fallen out!!! It had been loose for a little while, but not a very long time; and as far as we knew, it wasn't exceptionally loose. But somehow he happened to bite down on something just right, and it knocked the tooth clean out! That was the easiest tooth removal we've had so far. ;-)

We *always* have to take a cousin picture.

A few things have changed since these cousin pictures from years ago. :)

Right before the cousins started their trip back to PA, my David shouted, "We have to take a picture of me and Uncle David!" He was right; we have to. Always. :)

Some things never change. And you know, we really wouldn't want them to.

The Truth, the Whole Truth, and Nothing BUTT the Truth

2011-01-03T22:35:00.001-05:00

Conversation of the day:

Me (to one of my sons, who shall remain nameless to protect the ~~innocent~~ guilty): Did you sit on your brother's head?

My son, emphatically: No!

My son, a little more quietly: But I did touch him.

Me, suspiciously: With what part of your body did you touch him?

My son, even more quietly: My butt.

Aha! That, my dear boy, would constitute "sitting." And so, for your creative reinterpretation of the truth (a.k.a. LIE), you are hereby sentenced to two days without computer privileges.

It looks like we need to learn a lesson from the court of law so we can all pledge to tell "the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. So help me, God!"

That last part is especially important: so help us, God!

Court adjourned.

Will Stand for Applause

2011-01-02T23:56:00.000-05:00

With only a few weeks to go until Shav hits the 18 month mark (the age at which my boys "normally" take their first steps), he's progressing right along, perfectly on schedule. Who cares that all the child development books say he's late?! :) He's an expert at cruising, but his big, new accomplishment recently is standing up by himself, without pulling up on something. See?

It's amazing what ~~a person~~ Shav will do for a little public acclamation!

And speaking of Shav, I was really hoping that this would be the year in which his sleep habits would show marked improvement. I was looking forward to many nights of peaceful, all-night-long sleep.

So far, we're 0 for 3.

Sigh.

I love him anyway. ;-)

With a Bang and a Song

2011-01-01T23:58:00.000-05:00

It's a good way to start a year: staying up until midnight and enjoying the excitement that fact--midnight!--brings to the two oldest boys (the two youngest are sound asleep in their beds), playing a game of Skip-Bo with them during the last minutes of 2010, waking up Daddy who's sleeping on the couch, so that we can go outside on the patio and...

...celebrate with firecrackers and sparklers...

...and bang pots and pans!

Even our rooster got into the act and started crowing.

Silly rooster. ;-)

And then, after some hours of sleep, a day of being at home as a family, working together on various projects (Jeff did garden stuff, the big boys helped to carry wood, Tobin climbed the tall mulch pile behind our woodshed, I helped my mother organize her new kitchen). Then quiet time in the afternoon, for most of the members of the family. I spent my quiet time with my hands in the dishpan, which was lovely since not only did I bring order and cleanliness to my kitchen, I also got the chance to mull over my one resolution for this year. After that, I sat on the living room floor with Shav; and, as he climbed around me and on me, I finished organizing my file box. To completely finish a project is such a wonderful feeling!

Supper this evening was provided by Jeff: ground bear and deer meat, given to us by one of Jeff's customers. Jeff formed it into hamburger patties and grilled them, and I didn't have to do much for dinner! But that leads to a question: if they're made out of bear and deer meat, are they still called hamburgers? ;-)

The crowning touch (and, oh, what a crown!) on this superb day was the annual Harmonia Sacra singing at Weavers Mennonite Church. I've written before about these wonderful sings, but I know there's no way to adequately portray in words the joy I gain from participating in one of these. I can't help but beam as I sing, I smile as I get up to take a turn in leading, I float home in a cloud of happiness, I gush about it to Jeff (who kindly stays home with the boys so I can go...although tonight, one of my sons chose to go with me...at the end of the video below, you'll see his face and know which one it was)...I'm energized by the whole experience, and it always takes me a while to unwind after it. :) New Year's Day wouldn't be the same without the delightful tradition of attending that sing.

Amidst the singing tonight, I paused briefly to snatch a little video of it. It goes without saying that the video doesn't do it justice. I really think you'd have to be there to experience the beauty and the majesty and the glory of the voices lifted in praise, using the same words and tunes that have been used since 1832. But here's a snippet of "Hosanna." I wish I was still there, singing it again and again...

Hello, 2011; you are most welcome. I'm so glad you're here!

The Year Gone By

2010-12-31T13:52:00.001-05:00

In my very first post of this year, I reflected back on 2009 and included the header pictures I used each month. I've enjoyed looking back on that post so much that it wasn't hard to decide to do it again for 2010. (And a big THANK YOU to my uber talented friend Lisa who originally inspired me to change my header and blog look monthly!) :)

~ Wild and Sweet Christmas by The Cutest Blog on the Block

~ Fresh Fall by The Cutest Blog on the Block

~ Classic Candies by The Cutest Blog on the Block

~ Back to School Primitive Fall Background by Daisy Gray Design

~ from Hot Bliggity Blog: (which apparently doesn't name their designs, so I can't link to it directly, but as of this writing, the 7th background down when using the search word "paisley")

~ Red, White, and Blue (the top one) by Aqua Poppy Designs

~ Hot Bliggity Blog (again, I can't link to this background exactly; but this link brings up only a few options, and it's obvious which one I used)

~ Watermelon and Ants! by Daisy Gray Design

~ Bubbles n Daises by The Cutest Blog on the Block

~ Valentine's Gift by Blog Designs by Dani

~ Sweetheart by The Cutest Blog on the Block

~ Keeping Warm! by Simply Blog It Backgrounds

I'm trying to decide which one is my favorite, but I just can't. ;-)

********

Another way to recap the year is to scan back through the year's posts and make a list of some of my favorite posts--and maybe these are some of yours too, judging by the feedback I received! I was originally going to make a Top Ten list, but then I got on a roll and couldn't stop and had to stretch it to 25. *sheepish grin*

Not Your Average Midlife Crisis
I Kinda Sorta Did a Photo Shoot
I'm Going to Have to Fire My Sous Chef
The Power of Prayer
I Love a Husband Who...
You Might Be a Mother of Boys If...
And Then My Bubble Went POP!
Just a Piece of Blue Cotton
This Is Crazy, Ridiculous, Horrible...
Living in the Lap of Luxury
TTT - Women, Eggs, Mammals, Oh My!
I Try Not to Let Schooling Get in the Way of Learning
13 Years Ago...
Second Grade - Somehow
TTT - Z's, Bless-You Boxes, and Milk Supply - Oh, My!
The Kind of Mom Who...
The Gum-Chewer
You Just Never Know
The Professor
What Shav Thinks of Grass
The Nicest Compliment
TTT - Christians in the Bible?
You Wasted a Perfectly Good Cake...
Little Trying to Be Big
The Cat and His Boy(s)

********

As the year ends, here is a bit of history that I've been pondering through the past month and a half...and that I hope to continue to keep in mind as 2011 begins. To me, the over-arching lesson of this is NEVER DOUBT THAT GOD IS INVOLVED. Even though I'm proud of my Southern heritage and have been known to occasionally joke that "the South will rise again!", I'm truly grateful, of course, that the North won the Civil War. :) Only God knows how the outcome might have been different, if that rifle had not been stolen. Without a doubt, God works in matters large and small to accomplish His purposes.

From The Shenandoah Journal, November 16-22, 2010...

The Gun That Could Have Changed History
by Alan Cramer

One of the first repeating rifles ever built in the United States was created near Stokesville. William Sheffer (or Shaffer, as it is sometimes spelled) was a German-speaking early settler of North River Gap. he was a respected blacksmith and gunsmith. Both he and his brother Abraham were exempted from fighting in the Civil War to build wagons and guns for the Confederacy.

Around 1860, Sheffer invented the rifle that would later become known as the "Virginia Pacificator." One of the first of its kind, the 48-shot repeating rifle had eight magazine tubes that held six rounds each.

As the story goes, the rifle was stolen as Sheffer was on his way to the patent office in Washington, DC. A patent was eventually secured, but curiously, the rifle was never mass-produced.

If the rifle had been used during the war, it could have changed the course of history. The gun is now in the Virginia Historical Society Museum in Richmond.

********

This morning, I read this prayer by Amy Carmichael in a devotional by Elisabeth Elliot. Today and every day in the new year, I'll cling to the knowledge that God knows my children better than I do, is more powerful than me to guide and protect them, and loves them with a bigger, stronger love than I can even imagine.

Father, hear us, we are praying,
Hear the words our hearts are saying,
We are praying for our children.

Keep them from the powers of evil,
From the secret, hidden peril,
From the whirlpool that would suck them,
From the treacherous quicksand pluck them,
Holy Father, save our children.

From the worldling's hollow gladness,
From the sting of faithless sadness,
Through life's troubled waters steer them,
Through life's bitter battle cheer them,
Father, Father, be Thou near them.

Read the language of our longing,
Read the wordless pleadings thronging,
Holy Father, for our children.

And wherever they may bide,
Lead them Home at eventide.
~ Amy Carmichael

She, the giver of hope to India's children, had quite a way with words. Those phrases - "the sting of faithless sadness" - "read the language of our longing" - oh, they're powerful. I'm always grateful to discover a thinker and writer who expresses better than I can what I'm feeling in my heart.

********

To end beautiful 2010, here is one of the sweetest sights and sounds on earth to my blinded-by-mother-love eyes and ears: my two youngest sons, clad in snuggly sleepers, playing happily together this morning in a Bumper Chair game they invented. If I can ignore the baskets of laundry to be folded that appear in the video and focus instead on their bubbly laughter and infectious smiles, I'll have grasped what's really important. I am blessed beyond words...

Eleven Tidbits

2010-12-30T23:51:00.000-05:00

If I could sum up today in one word, it would be LAZY. With our guests gone and the first big part of my parents' move over, I felt all entertained-out and could hardly summon up the motivation to do anything. So I did very little - almost nothing, really. I didn't even cook dinner, because it was Jeff's annual end-of-the-year barbershop dinner out, at Wood Grill Buffet (at which the boys behaved beautifully and I had a lovely time chatting with Jenny). I wouldn't want every day to be a lazy day (and no one else in my family would want me to have lazy days all the time either!); but for today, it was SO nice to relax and not worry about accomplishing much.

I did, however, start a project that I'd been wanting to do for a while but had pushed aside until a rainy day, so to speak. (It did, as a matter of fact, rain a little bit here today, so I happened to choose an appropriate day for this rainy day project.) :) I have a basket-like file box, with hanging file folders in it. Although some parts of it were in fairly good order, others were not; and it needed a good going-over to get the whole thing organized. It was one of those things that I thought "this is going to take a LONG time" and "I'd better do this when I have some alone time so I won't be distracted by the boys." But as it turns out, I was able to nearly finish the project today; and much of my time spent working on it was also spent in the company of one or more boys. Even Shav cooperated wonderfully, and played peacefully by himself in the living room, occasionally scooting over to me to see what was going on. I would hand him papers to be discarded, and sometimes he would crumple them and enjoy the noise, and other times, he would scoot over to the little trashcan and put the papers in it. So helpful. :)

********

Speaking of Shav putting things in the trashcan...

We use that little trashcan, during cold weather, to collect paper and burnable trash for kindling for the woodstove. Shav enjoys making random deposits in it; and when I pull out the trash to burn, I've learned to always check through it to see what he might have put in it. These are some of the items I've found so far this fall and winter:
~ a spoon
~ Christmas ornaments
~ Scoop, the yellow tractor from Bob the Builder
~ a wooden spatula
~ bullet shells (the big boys like to play with old bullet shells, setting them up on end like toy soldiers)
~ a stencil
~ a large sieve
At least the sieve was easy to spot when I lifted the lid of the trashcan. :)

********

As I went through my file folders today, I found the folders I have for Medical Records for each of us. One thing stood out to me about them: our folders for the boys are so thin. I discovered a new cause for gratitude...thank You, God, that my boys have been so healthy, and consequently, their folders are so thin!

********

We received news a few days ago that dear Helen Rae, the mother of long-time family friend Mary Faith, passed away. She was quite old and had been losing the battle with dementia for some years, so it was one of those deaths that is, in many ways, a relief. But still, grief lingers.

It was poignant tonight to discover in my Wedding folder, a letter Helen Rae, always gracious, had sent to my parents shortly after my wedding. It said in part:

What beautiful memories you have to treasure in your heart of your lovely Davene, from the time she was conceived until now. And of course, it doesn't stop here! Your joys are multiplied. I'm praying that Jeff will be as sensitive to your needs and Davene's, as Jerry has been to ours. That, indeed, is expecting a lot!

I have never seen lovelier invitations. I almost feel that I have been a part of it all. Mary Faith filled me in on all the details which you had planned so carefully. How dear that your mother was able to attend.

It's apparent that her prayers for Jeff to be sensitive to my needs and my parents' have been abundantly answered!

********

Once upon a time, I wrote a post of confessions. It's time to add another one.

I know I'm supposed to brown meat before I cook it in the crockpot. Roasts, Swiss steak, pork chops, whatever - they're all supposed to be browned on the stove first because it makes the flavor richer (or something). But I don't do it. Nope, I use the crockpot so I can be a lazy cook; and the thought of browning the meat first (and getting a frying pan all dirty and greasy, making an extra dish for me to wash) defeats the purpose in my opinion. Maybe the flavor suffers a tiny bit; but really, if you did a blind taste test, do you think you'd be able to figure out which roast was browned and which wasn't? I think making a great-tasting roast has more to do with the seasonings you put on it. That's just my {humble, of course} opinion. :)

********

How do people find your blog?

Every once in a while, various bloggers that I keep up with will mention what searches brought people to them; and it's always interesting and frequently hilarious to read. Now that Blogger has added a handy-dandy stats button, I occasionally look at mine and am able to see how people found me. Most are very straightforward, but a few make me grin and/or shake my head in puzzlement. Searches like these actual ones I've seen recently...

~ around my bubble
~ mother in law visits are too long (for the record, I don't think they are, but I can see why a search for that would lead to my blog)
~ maternity shop tel aviv
~ i'll go to bed now
~ avniel pronunciation
~ a thank you note from god to a grieving fisherman family
~ geriatric story nursing home story oh holy night
~ tomcat holy ghost (really? what in the world? I actually had to look this one up to discover what it led to...sure enough, it landed on this post...oh, yeah, I forgot about that)

********

This is the way Jeff and I show love to each other these days: whoever goes up to bed first turns on the other's electric blanket. ;-) It's so comforting to crawl into a nice warm bed, rather than the sheets which always used to feel frigid on winter nights.

********

Why does it seem like I'm always the one to discover that there's not much toilet paper left on the roll? Occasionally when I spot a roll that looks close to the end, I'll think, "Oh, I'll pull out a fresh roll later." But I've learned that it's best to do it right then, because if not, inevitably I will be the one left in an uncomfortable predicament. Why does that happen to me? Maybe the system of justice in the universe demands that my procrastination will have negative consequences. Or maybe it's just because I'm the only female in this household, so maybe I use the most toilet paper. ;-)

********

Do not depend on the hope of results... You may have to face the fact that your work will be apparently worthless and even achieve no result at all, if not perhaps results opposite to what you expect. As you get used to this idea, you start more and more to concentrate not on the results, but on the value, the rightness, the truth of the work itself.

~ Thomas Merton

********

Tomorrow, if I happen to have more energy than today, I think we'll start taking down our Christmas decorations. The boys want us to leave our tree up indefinitely, but that idea has been vetoed. I love their enthusiasm though. :) Doesn't it seem like it was the beginning of December just the other day and we were putting our decorations up? And now we're taking them down already! How does that happen?! :)

********

The chain of cause and effect which makes up human life, is bisected at every point by a vertical line relating us and all we do to God.

~ Baron Von Hugel,

quoted in an Elisabeth Elliott devotional

Let the Moving Begin!

2010-12-29T23:48:00.001-05:00

Today was the first official day of my parents' move from their "old" house into Dad's-old-office-turned-residence. We refer to the two buildings in grand terms: The East House is their old one, and The West House is what they're moving into. In the West House...

There were beautiful empty spaces, just begging for something to fill them. (And we did.)

New hardwood floors waiting to be scratched...er...I mean...um...carefully walked on and furniture set gently upon. ;-)

Jeff and my brother David moved the beds over to the new house.

David also wielded a mean feather duster while Lori showed off her muscles by carrying dresser drawers. :)

My mother, who LIKES detail work (bless her heart!), focused on cleaning the ancient refrigerator that they moved over from their shed. I'm not sure, but I think the frig might be older than I am. But being the penny-pinchers that they are (that's a compliment!), they chose to continue to use it, rather than buy a new one.

Mother was fueled by her ever-present companion, her iced tea cup. If we were somehow able to count the number of gallons of tea that have been drunk by her from this cup, it's likely to be more than the amount of water in the Shenandoah River! :)

Two of our neighbor girls came over to help out by watching Tobin and Shav at our house while I was helping my parents. All the other kids (Josiah and David and their cousins) did a great job of helping; they truly contributed to all that was accomplished today. When their energy and spirits were lagging, all I had to do was say, "I'll race you back to the old house," and they perked up right away. I think they beat me at every single race, too. ;-)

My strong brother held up a bookshelf while the whole earth titled. Oh, wait, that was just the camera tilting. ;-)

His lovely wife started organizing the kitchen. And the worst part is -- she left before she finished the job! We should have demanded that she stay with us for a few more days/weeks/months, so that she could complete what she started. ;-)

All in all, it was a GREAT day; and we really got a lot accomplished. There is much more to be done, however. ;-)

I'm really proud of my parents. When they decided to sell this house to us, they went through a considerable period of downsizing as they moved into a much smaller house. Then when Dad retired, he sorted through and got rid of an immense amount of medical stuff as he prepared to change his office into a house. Now, as they go through this move, I'm reminded of how they've handled these transitions with grace, holding their possessions with a light grasp, and keeping their eyes focused on their home to come. Their real home. Their permanent home.

Thank You, God, that when we move there, we get to travel light...and You do all the moving for us! ;-)

She's At It Again

2010-12-28T23:58:00.001-05:00

There's not much time to blog tonight. Christmas, Part Two, is in full swing over here; and we have beloved house guests sleeping under our roof tonight. Plus, tomorrow is Part One of my parents' Very Big (Across the Parking Lot) Move. But before I get a little sleep, I've gotta say...

That sister-in-law of mine! ;-) Three years ago, we caught her feeding David (who was two years old at the time) much more Oreo Ice Cream Dessert than he was "supposed" to have. :) And now, this year, look who's benefiting from her generosity!

I do believe Tobin ate virtually every bit of her dessert; and when she went into the kitchen and got more for herself and came back with a full plate, he wanted it, too! It made me wonder: if we set the entire dish of ice cream dessert in front of Tobin and let him eat as much as he wanted, would he eat the whole thing?! :)

Tobin's not the only one who loves his aunt. We are all big fans of their family, and I think my favorite part of every visit is the time after all the kids are settled in bed when my brother David and his wife Lori and Jeff and I can sit down in the cozy living room and talk. Tonight we covered the topics of creationism, colleges, switching churches, rusty trucks and Jeeps, Craigslist, cigars, tithing, time shares, and more. I love it.

I love them. ;-)

Christmas for Four

2010-12-27T22:52:00.000-05:00

Grandma Loved a Pirate

2010-12-26T15:04:00.000-05:00

And the pirate, he loved her.

Everyone thought Grandma was such a good girl.

But now we know the truth. ;-)

Those dashing pirates are hard to resist.

Even for good girls. ;-)

A Gift Only God Could Give

2010-12-25T22:02:00.000-05:00

I loved Christmas Eve.

I loved seeing the living room set up with pillows and sleeping bags and blankets for excited little boys. I loved hearing their daddy reading from our Advent book, Bartholomew's Passage, as he laid on the couch. I loved feeling the warmth of the fire in the woodstove.

For a full year, I had been looking forward to my night of sleeping on the couch near my boys and the Christmas tree; and, needless to say, I loved actually doing it. Josiah and David and I were the only ones who made it through the night there. Tobin tried, but after one too many times of bouncing up out of his cozy nest and bugging his brothers, I took him up to his room about 10:00 p.m; and despite his protests, he quickly went to sleep there. Jeff fell asleep on our little couch, but also departed part of the way through the night. But I stayed there, waking occasionally to shift my position on the couch, drink in the sight of my two oldest sons in their youthful peace-drenched sleep, and breathe a prayer of thanks for such moments.

When we woke up this morning--around 7:30 a.m.--a glance out the window showed a most wonderful thing: it was snowing. Snow on Christmas morning? Unbelievable! It couldn't have been more perfect. As I rejoiced, I thought, "Only God could have given us this gift."

Sure, a weather forecaster could tell us the scientific reason for the snow arriving this morning. This high pressure system here...and the low pressure system pushing against it...and the moisture from this storm system...and the winds from the south...blah, blah, blah... But can a weather forecaster make it snow? No. Can you? Not a chance. Can I? No way.

The snow this morning was a gift only God could give.

Almost as soon as that thought entered my mind, I realized that that was exactly what Christmas is all about. Only God could give a gift like Jesus. Thank You, God, that You did!

I'm tempted to write more tonight, to share more pictures, to capture in words the moments that made this Christmas so special. But I can't. You see, one of the gifts Jeff gave me is The Boy Who Came Back from Heaven; and I started reading it while I was munching on left-overs a while ago. I could barely pull myself away from it long enough to talk to Jeff, tuck Josiah and David into bed, or do this post. ;-) I think it's going to be one of those books--the kind that makes you stay up WAY later than you should, just because you can't bear to set it down for one single second. If my bedside lamp is still on at 3:00 in the morning, you'll know why. :)

Have You Done It?

2010-12-24T00:15:00.002-05:00

Last weekend, I had the privilege of taking part in a Christmas program for the residents at a local nursing home. I've been wanting to do that for years, because outreach to the sometimes-abandoned elderly is dear to my heart; but I had never made it happen. This year, however, Josiah wanted the opportunity to play a few piano pieces somewhere, and it worked out for him to play in this program and for me to sing in it.

It was an incredibly moving experience for me; and if I had more time, I would write much more about it. But here is what I want to focus on tonight: one of the women in our group sang "O Holy Night." And it got me.

Everybody knows that song, right? When I hear the first notes of it, I usually think, "What a gorgeous song!" But by the end of it, I'm thinking, "What a long song. Whew, I'm sort of glad it's over." Maybe I'm the only one who feels that way. :) I'm sure, however, that I'm not the only one who likes to belt out "O niiiiiiight diviiiiiiiine" when no one is around. I'm pretty sure Jeff doesn't do that. I'm pretty sure I have a time or two. This year. Every time I hear it on the radio. ;-)

One of the lines in the song says this:

Fall on your knees.

And when I heard Cara belt out that line in the activity room of the nursing home, I thought, "What am I doing on my feet?" I was so moved by that whole morning of music that I could hardly keep the tears from flowing, though I hid it well, I think. As I stood there listening to her, my thoughts were racing: Yes, I should literally fall on my knees. The awe that God's entrance to earth produces knocks me over. But if I really do kneel now, what will everyone think? I'm just here to sing harmony on a few Christmas carols, not to cause a stir or raise a ruckus. What do I do?

I stood. I didn't fall on my knees. The program went on, I kept my tears of wonder in check, and the residents got cookies at the end. Nice. But not awesome. Not awestruck. I didn't do what the song said.

Until later...

Was it that night or the next that I was here at home, late at night, with everyone else asleep? The radio was on in the background as I went about my various tasks, when suddenly I heard those familiar arpeggios as "O Holy Night" began. It wasn't hard to figure out what to do. Without delay, I dropped to my knees, let the magnificence of the lyrics wash over me, and worshiped.

So.

Have you?

Have you heard "O Holy Night" this Christmas season? I would wager (except I don't) that the answer is yes.

Have you done what it says?

Have you fallen on your knees?

********

Today, I sat on the floor near Shav and watched him play with the figures from our manger scene.

As he lifted the camel and moved the sheep and tried to set one of the Wise Men on the sloping roof and, yes, popped Baby Jesus' head into his mouth (until I gently admonished him, "Don't suck on Jesus, Shav"), I silently prayed.

"May the commonplace not become ordinary. May my familiarity with this story not breed contempt. May the easy availability of nativity sets of every size, shape, and material not diminish my respect for who these figures portray."

"Lord, may I never hesitate to fall on my knees before you, aware of the majesty of your coming, and filled with delight in your presence. Let me not forget Who Christmas is all about."

Mr. Spontaneity

2010-12-22T23:48:00.001-05:00

I never know what Jeff will think of next.

God knew that being spontaneous was not one of my natural gifts (ha!), so he blessed me with a man skilled in spontaneity, a man who would be able to bring out of me something that wasn't there to begin with. I've changed so much because of Jeff, but I still don't hold a candle to him when it comes to spur-of-the-moment ideas.

Today, for example, one of the first things he did this morning was say, "Let's hang up this shelf. Where do you want it?" This shelf, by the way, was given to us months ago by my dad; it was a cast-off from his office, no longer needed because of his retirement. Since Dad gave it to us, it's been hanging out in the back of Jeff's closet. I haven't pressured Jeff to put it up; and in fact, I haven't even thought about it recently.

Apparently, something made Jeff think about it, because he was all gung-ho about putting it up this morning. I didn't complain. :)

Jeff found the studs and screwed it in securely--it's a heavy shelf--and now it's a perfect place to display some of our books where they can visually tempt little hands to reach for them, pull them off the shelf, and peruse them.

We decided to hang it right under the big map in our upstairs hallway, which reminded me of this quote I read recently in an article by Jill Hardy in my oft-used and much-appreciated homeschool planner, The Well-Planned Day:

Your personal preferences will dictate a lot of your storage and organizational methods. I know many homeschoolers who bristle at the idea of leaving maps on the wall, or having desks in common living areas, and just as many who embrace home learning as a decorating style.

"Home learning as a decorating style"? Yes, I'd say that sounds about right. :)

The next thing Jeff did to surprise me today occurred when he returned to the house from taking some food scraps to the compost pile and feeding the animals. He came in the kitchen from the porch; but instead of quickly closing the door to keep the heat inside, he held the door open and gave a short whistle. In trotted Molly. Dear, sweet Molly. Our first dog, my favorite dog of the three we have now. But in the house? Our dogs are outdoor ones and always have been; they enjoy the room to run freely in our pasture, and I enjoy the fact that my house has no dog hair or dog smell in it! :) But The One Who Surprises Me decided that it would be fun to bring Molly down from the pasture and bring her in the house...

...and then take her for a walk with three eager boys.

It was fun, too; and if it wasn't for that little bit about the dog hair and smell, I would dearly love having Molly as an indoor dog.

As it is, we'll let her stay outside with her two dog buddies and two goat buddies; but I'm so glad Jeff thought to bring her inside for a little bit today.

That man! He surely keeps me on my toes.

That's why I married him. ;-)

Compared to Last Year, I'm...

2010-12-21T23:42:00.001-05:00

...way ahead!

Do you remember my late-night Christmas Eve marathon gift-wrapping session last year? I do! And I wince a little every time I think about the stress of all that was going on last year, including the hour and a half I spent "throwing" presents into gift bags and stuffing tissue paper on top, when what I really wanted to be doing was falling asleep in the glow of the Christmas tree lights. I was determined that this year, things would be different.

I'm happy to say that they are. :)

Thanks in part to my friend Sally who came over one afternoon to watch my kids so I could have some time to myself (a portion of which I used to wrap gifts), and to Kathryn whose weekly visit to play with the boys gave me time this afternoon to finish the project, I am now able to say that all the gifts I needed to wrap are done: wrapped, tagged, bowed, and placed under the Christmas tree.

What a lovely feeling.

I can hardly wait for Christmas morning, so I can watch the faces of the ones I love as they open their gifts. I must be growing up because these days...

...I'd rather give presents than receive them. :)

40 Days for 40 Years

2010-12-20T23:48:00.001-05:00

"I've really been getting a lot of nice emails recently," Jeff said to me a few nights ago as he stretched out on the couch by the woodstove.

I was puttering around in the kitchen, putting some things away, I suppose, or doing one of the myriad of tasks that accompany the keeping of a home. "That's great," I said, and tried to hide the huge smile spreading across my face.

"What?" Jeff asked. "Why are you smiling?"

I wasn't going to tell him. I was trying to keep it a secret as long as I could. I knew he would find out eventually, but...

Finally I had to confess that I had arranged for someone to email him each day with thoughtful words of affirmation for him: 40 days for 40 years. Jeff's not a big party guy, and it's nearly impossible to find a gift--a physical item--that means a whole lot to him. Oh, he receives them graciously, but they usually don't touch his soul. But words of affirmation? They speak to him.

Back in September, I read on Krista's blog about how her husband (also named Jeff, incidentally) had planned 40 days of celebration for her 40th birthday. "Aha!" I thought, "I could do something like that for my Jeff!" But what to do? I wished that I had the money to take him on a trip, but that wasn't possible. I knew that I could easily make a list of 40 special moments with Jeff, so I did. But what else? Then it dawned on me: simply contact 40 of his friends--ranging from guys he knew when he was young and single, to men that he's met and become close to during our years in Virginia, and from every time in between--and ask them if they would be willing to spend a few minutes jotting an email to Jeff expressing appreciation for his friendship and for the way God has used him in their lives. The response was immediate: yes, I'd love to help! what a great idea! I'm honored that you asked! what day do you want me to send my letter?

It's been fun, so much fun, to see the emails arrive. They're not even written to me; but as Jeff shares them, they bring back a mountain of memories and reminders of cherished friendships through the years.

I'm not sure it's fair for me to be gaining so much enjoyment from this when it's supposed to be for Jeff's birthday! ;-)

Oh, the Questions They Ask

2010-12-19T23:59:00.001-05:00

Before I write another word, let me first say a big THANK YOU to those of you who commented on the previous post, shared your experiences with me, and assured me that you understood my pain and were praying for Shav's sleep issues to resolve. That means the world to me. Thank you from the bottom of my heart, dear ~~blog readers~~ friends!

To answer the questions left in the comments...

~ Misty, what eventually settles him back to sleep? Well, time, I guess. But it's been up to an hour and a half of crying during a spell. I keep checking on him every so often, just to see if he's aware enough of me to be calmed by my presence and is able to "snap out of it." But yeah, two (or was it three?) nights ago, the whole episode was about an hour and a half and was absolutely draining for me.

~ Valerie, I don't think there's a problem with Shav's ears because he hasn't been sick recently, he doesn't pull on them, and he's not particularly fussy at any other times. Even when I lay him flat when I'm changing his diaper or putting him to bed for a nap or at the beginning of the night, he doesn't cry then. As far as what he is like after a screaming episode, he basically seems fine! After the naptime crying session, he was a little tired (can't imagine why, after all that screaming!) and sat on my lap quietly for a little while before getting down to play. But when it happens at night, he definitely seems normal by morning and doesn't seem mad at me then. :)

~ Stacey, I'll try to pay more attention to his eyes next time. I have a feeling that even when they're open, he's not really aware of who I am; but it's hard for me to imagine because, hello, I'm your mom, Shav...remember me? :) But I think you're absolutely right about a child being able to walk, talk, cry, or whatever, and not realize what's going on. Jeff told me that he sleepwalked as a child, so maybe there's some connection to Shav's experiences. I'm not sure about foods or events that might be triggering it for Shav, but he might be a little extra tired. I'll be more intentional this week about what's going on with him during daytime hours so that hopefully that can be a clue if these episodes continue. About the anointing with oil--absolutely! That is totally biblical. We've prayed about it, that's for sure. :) But we haven't done the anointing; thanks for suggesting that. And one more thing for you: I'm SO sorry that you have had similar experiences. I know what it's like to awake from a bad dream and still feel caught in the emotions of that, so I can only imagine how terrifying it is to deal with your experiences.

~ Ceci, that's really interesting about putting Sydney with Meredith. I hadn't heard of that before. The funny thing to me is that, even though Shav's crying seems so loud to me, the other boys are somehow able to sleep right through it!! Their bedrooms are across the hall; but, believe me, Shav's cries are loud enough to reach that far--and then some. :) I'll keep your suggestion in mind, if these spells continue. Thanks!

~ Michelle, I really appreciate you sharing your experiences. The reminder that this is a real occurrence with a scientific cause and explanation, and probably not just a temper tantrum issue, is VERY helpful. And yes, it is so bewildering to see Shav looking like he's awake but having him respond so strangely to me.

Last night was a good night; he slept straight through with no problems at all. And so far tonight, I haven't heard a peep from him. However, he usually starts with one of these crying fits around 12:30 or 1:00 AM, so I'm still holding my breath to see if this is a good night or a bad one. Even in the depths of the agony of listening to him cry, I keep reminding myself that "this too shall pass"; and I also remember that God comforts us so that we can comfort others, and maybe someday down the road, I'll be able to share about my current trials with another sad, frustrated mom.

* I spoke too soon. Shav awoke crying around 11:45. Jeff got him, and Shav woke up enough to realize that I was sitting here in my rocking chair. He reached out for me and calmed down when I held him. We had a little cozy snuggling time; then when I was starting to carry him to bed, he reached out for Jeff and had a little cuddle time with him. Now he's back in bed and occasionally whimpering, but clearly that wasn't a typical episode for him. Who knows how the rest of the night will go?

Moving right along...

The big boys have been amusing me recently with the questions they ask. For example, as we rode in the Big White Van over Afton Mountain to a church service this morning, David asked, "Are there more people or trees in the world?" Hmmm...I'm not sure...maybe trees? Then he asked, "Are there a googol trees in the world?" Uh...probably not. "Is there a googol of anything in the world?" Well...maybe grains of sand?

During the church service, Josiah, who read nine chapters of Revelation during the sermon, leaned over to whisper in my ear, "So, are there only going to be 144,000 people saved?" Well, sweetheart, let's talk about it later. The standard I-have-no-idea-what-to-say-right-now answer of parents everywhere! :)

On the way home, Josiah asked, "Are there more white people or black people in the world?" Probably more Chinese, was my reply. :)

Goodness! These boys! They're good at reminding me how little I know.

Earlier this week, David asked me one that I could answer definitively. "Do real policemen brush their teeth?" he queried. "Yes!" I said with certainty. Then he asked, "How many times do they brush their teeth?"

All I could think to say was, "The next time you see a real policemen in Daddy's shop {because Jeff cuts the hair of a lot of policemen in our town}, you can ask him!" :)

~ my little architects, hard at work :)

Something's Wrong...

2010-12-18T23:58:00.000-05:00

...and I don't know what to do about it.

It concerns Shav. *Sigh.*

Our youngest son is exquisite. Treasured beyond my ability to describe, he is a perfect puzzle piece for our family. I love him more and more and cannot bear to think of life without him.

With all that said, I'll also admit that Shav has never been the greatest sleeper--a fact which, if you've read this blog for a while, you're very familiar with. To tell you the truth, he's the worst sleeper we've had; and after three boys who consistently slept through the night from a very young age, I've had to really adjust to Shav's challenging sleep habits.

However, he had been doing much better in recent months; and I was hopeful that his sleep issues were a thing of the past. I was hopeful, that is, until he started waking up in the night, screaming at the top of his lungs. *Sigh.* Here we go again.

My first course of action, when awakened by his cries, is to go to him, pick him up, let him bury his head in my shoulder for a little cuddle, give him a drink of water, do the familiar-to-every-mother sniff test to discern whether his diaper is dirty, then lay him back down and tuck his blankets around him. When these latest sleep disturbances started happening, he was comforted by me doing that.

But after a few times of that, he apparently decided that that was not enough; and the comforting progressed to me holding him for a few minutes in the rocking chair before laying him back down. As you can guess, that worked for a while; but then came a night or two when that didn't do the trick and Jeff ended up holding him in bed or taking him downstairs. But then... *Sigh.*

Shav started waking up and crying hard, very hard. When I would go to him to comfort him, he would cry harder and arch his back as if in pain. When I would reach out for him to pick him up, he would roll away from me and sometimes even grab the crib railings and cling to them. When I would gently say his name, he would wail louder. When I would lift him in my arms, he would push himself away with all his might and make me feel like he was going to do a back-flip and propel himself out of my arms. He made it crystal-clear that HE DID NOT WANT ME TO HOLD HIM.

That happened a few times in the night; but today, it happened during his nap, and the episode lasted about 40 minutes. I don't like this progression, this sequence of events that makes me feel so dreadfully helpless.

It's absolutely bewildering to me. Why does he do that? Why doesn't he let me comfort him? The possible explanations we've pondered are:
1. pain,
2. constipation (a form of pain),
3. character issue/temper tantrum,
or
4. night terrors.

Pain was definitely my first assumption, based on how he was arching his back and writhing. But the fact that he didn't even want me to hold him left me puzzled, and besides, if he was in some kind of pain, wouldn't it hit him while he was awake and out of bed, too?

Same with constipation--wouldn't he have spells with that at other times, too, and not just when he was in bed sound asleep?

Jeff and I thought that maybe Shav was reacting to the fact that he knows that when he cries in the night, I'll pick him up and comfort him briefly, but then put him back in bed. Maybe he wasn't getting what he wanted, and so he was taking it out on us in a way that an almost 17-month-old can do: by throwing a fit. But if it's just a temper tantrum about having to be in bed, why then did he do that this afternoon during his nap when I did come to him, take him out of bed, carry him downstairs, offer milk, get him ready to play, etc.?

That leaves us with option #4.

I was vaguely familiar with the term "night terrors," but I only really knew enough about them to be confident that none of our other boys had dealt with them. A quick Internet search, however, uncovered a huge amount of information about them (here is just one among many articles about them...and here is another). Is it possible that Shav has started having these?

Some of the symptoms sound like what he's been going through--for example, the way he fiercely resists being touched or spoken to--but his crying spells last much longer than the few minutes these articles mention. Not ever having had experience with night terrors, I'm at a loss to know if that's what is going on.

Is it something else entirely? Something we haven't even thought of?

I just don't know how to help him. I feel so helpless. *Sigh.*

*BIG sigh.*

In a World of White...

2010-12-17T23:31:00.000-05:00

...I notice colors. The blue of Tobin's hat, coat, and snow pants. The orange of our sled.

Most of all, the pink of his lips and his sweet, kissable rosy cheeks. In the past two days, since the snow started falling, I've had the privilege of thrice being Tobin's companion out of doors. We've shoveled snow, eaten it, tromped around in it, eaten more of it, gone sledding in it, made a snow angel in it, and eaten even more of it. Can you tell what Tobin's favorite thing about the snow is?

Ah, here's another color I love these days: the brown of the delicious hot chocolate we make every time we return to the house from our adventures outside. What better way to warm up than with this liquid love?

I grew up drinking my mom's homemade hot chocolate, so of course, no other kind tastes quite as good to me. Here is the recipe we've always used:

Hot Chocolate Mix

1 box (8 qts.) dry milk

1 bag (1 lb.) powdered sugar

1 and 1/2 c. (6 oz.) nondairy coffee creamer

16 oz. Nestle's Quik

Mix well. Makes 1 gallon dry mix. To serve, mix 1/3 c. of mixture with 1 c. hot water. Top with marshmallows, of course!

My boys sometimes choose colored marshmallows. For me? Always white. After all, they match the snow that way. Well, until they get dunked in the hot chocolate. ;-)

The Funniest Thing I Heard All Day...

2010-12-16T22:19:00.002-05:00

...came from the lips of my firstborn at supper tonight.

My parents were telling us about the memorial service they attended today (and provided music for--my mother played the piano, and my dad the trumpet--you didn't know he plays the trumpet?--well, neither did almost everyone in attendance at the service--but now they know, and so do you!). The service was for a wonderful, dear lady, and I remember her with much fondness, and I could write a whole post about that...

However, to stick to the point, I was asking Dad what kind of cancer Ellen had--specifically, where it started. He answered that it started in her ovaries.

"What's an ovary?" Josiah wondered aloud.

I responded off-handedly, as if this wasn't a Sensitive Subject. "The place where a woman's eggs are stored."

His reply was immediate and sarcastic. "Oh, great!" Then he continued, "Please don't talk about that. Especially in front of David and everybody else. I don't really like the subject."

I nearly cracked up then and there, but I tried to respect his dignity and not give full release to my merriment. Now that he's in bed, however, I can laugh all I want. ;-)

That boy! How I love him!

This Can Only Mean One Thing

2010-12-16T13:42:00.001-05:00

The area around our woodstove crowded with random coats, mittens, socks, boots, hats, and gloves? That must mean...

It's SNOWING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

:)

Oil on My Head

2010-12-15T23:53:00.002-05:00

Did you ever read Psalm 133 (about unity between brothers being like oil poured over the head and beard and to the edges of the robe) and think, "Ewwww. Who would want that?" ;-)

While it may be true that culturally, we can't quite relate to the significance of oil on the head or the desire to be anointed in such a way, think of how we do use oil. How about the way it keeps machines going and helps gears mesh without too much friction or overheating?

In our family, the oil of brotherly unity keeps our wheels turning, and that oil is made up in large part of fun and laughter. The family that laughs together stays together, right?

When I watch Tobin playing "chase me" and "peekaboo" with Shav around the couch, I feel the oil refreshing me.

When I see an impromptu concert with my three oldest sons, and no one gets mad at each other or tells their brothers to stop interrupting them, it's oil on my head.

When Tobin wants the stage and I see an older brother hovering in the background, but the older brother doesn't demand attention or do anything to antagonize Tobin, I think, "Well, we're making progress!" The oil washes over me.

When I watch them, on another occasion, having so much fun together, instead of being The Sandpaper Boys who rub each other the wrong way, I sense more oil being poured out.

When Josiah and David decide to empty the block box so they can both fit inside and I hear their joy, the oil flows again.

Off-topic here, but did you notice in that last video how Shav was cruising around so well with his walker? Isn't he amazing? :)

He is doing GREAT with walking when holding on to something, but do you think that boy likes to be enticed and encouraged to take a step alone?

Not at all.

But it will happen. One of these days, he'll let go and launch out and discover that he possesses the power to walk. And the delight which will flow from my little band of boys to their littlest brother will be like oil on my head, like oil in the cogs as our life as a family swirls around.

In the Late Night Hours...

2010-12-13T23:18:00.000-05:00

...I'm more grateful than usual for the shelter of these red-brick walls and the warmth enclosed within them.

I glance at the thermometer. 14 degrees.

"A person could die outside on a night like this," I think. Then I correct myself, "Of course a person could die, but could a person live?"

We pray for the homeless, that they have found warm shelter.

We put more wood on the fire and hear the lonely sound of the wind howling down the chimney. Oh, this wind! It cuts like a knife when we venture outside and gives new meaning to the term "bitter cold."

I walk quietly into the boys' rooms to check on them, to pull covers up under chins, to kiss exposed cheeks, to breathe a prayer for these little ones who are so unspeakably precious to me. In a little while, I, too, will crawl under my covers and pull them up to my chin. I will be reminded of how I used to dread getting into a cold bed on nights like these, and how all that changed with the purchase of our cherished electric blanket. I will give thanks again for such luxury; and although I have no one to tuck me in, I will feel God's smile warm me and His soft kiss on my cheek.

Tonight, when harsh weather conditions outside feel like a threat, my gratitude for all that is good and lovely in my life wells up and finds a single, focused expression. In these late night hours, I thank God that...

...I am warm.

In the Early Morning Hours...

2010-12-13T07:39:00.001-05:00

...the house was peaceful. It was just me and the Christmas tree.

Yep, just me and the Christmas tree and the cheery fire in the woodstove.

That's right, just me and the Christmas tree and the cheery fire in the woodstove and a cup of coffee.

Yes, like I said, just me and the Christmas tree and the cheery fire in the woodstove and a cup of coffee AND this little fellow...

...who, in the early morning hours, apparently decided that he had had ENOUGH of sleeping and it was time to get up right now! So he and I went downstairs, he had a little bite of breakfast, he played and climbed on me, I watched and applauded as he scooted and sat up and stood up and cruised, he smiled gleefully as I twirled big plastic rings on the floor. Great fun.

"Well," thought I, "if I have to be awake this early..." (because, remind me again, WHO gets up this early by choice??)

"...I might as well turn it into a blog post!"

And I did.

The End ;-)

Let Consequences Do the Talking

2010-12-12T13:11:00.001-05:00

As part of our Sonlight curriculum that we're using in our homeschool this year, we're reading a wonderful book of Aesop's fables: The Aesop for Children, with pictures by Milo Winter. The boys love it; and even though Josiah has read the whole book himself (several times, I believe), he still eagerly listens each day; and when I finish the page I'm reading, he begs me to read another one. "But I like this one," he says as he glances at the following page. "That's what you say every day," I tell him. "Well, I like them all!" is his response. True, that.

The only thing that I don't like is that the book uses an old-fashioned word for donkey, a word that has three letters and starts with "a," a word which I won't type here because I don't want this post to attract strange Internet searches. I don't mind the boys hearing that word in the proper context so I read the fables as written when we're reading them together, but I'd be glad for my sons to remain ignorant of the slang meaning for quite some time. How long can we preserve their innocence?

One of the fables that we read some weeks ago comes back to my mind repeatedly as a lesson in wise parenting. Here it is, with my only editorial change being the use of the word "donkey" instead of...well, you know.

The Donkey and the Load of Salt

A Merchant, driving his Donkey homeward from the seashore with a heavy load of salt, came to a river crossed by a shallow ford. They had crossed this river many times before without accident, but this time the Donkey slipped and fell when halfway over. And when the Merchant at last got him to his feet, much of the salt had melted away. Delighted to find how much lighter his burden had become, the Donkey finished the journey very gayly.

Next day the Merchant went for another load of salt. On the way home the Donkey, remembering what had happened at the ford, purposely let himself fall into the water, and again got rid of most of his burden.

The angry Merchant immediately turned about and drove the Donkey back to the seashore, where he loaded him with two great baskets of sponges. At the ford the Donkey again tumbled over, but when he had scrambled to his feet, it was a very disconsolate Donkey that dragged himself homeward under a load ten times heavier than before.

The same measures will not suit all circumstances.

What wisdom! I'm especially impressed by how the merchant dealt with the situation, finding a way for the donkey to learn his lesson without long speeches from the merchant or harsh beatings. He let consequences do the talking: a very effective method of teaching.

I long to do better in this area.

I remember when I was in college, I had a certain professor, and the word spoken among students was that his young children were unruly because he tried to reason with them, and everybody knows you can't reason with a two-year-old. But how many times do I find myself using an overabundance of words with Tobin when, in reality, the wisest approach would be to get my tongue out of the way and let consequences teach him important lessons. I don't want to suggest that two-year-olds (or older children, or younger, for that matter) are incapable of receiving verbal instruction and so should not be taught in words. Of course not! But I do long for clear thinking so that I will be able to quickly discover ways to teach my sons the lessons that will prepare them for success in the future.

And just like the "Donkey" in this fable found out, many times, natural consequences are hands-down the best teacher. May I have the wisdom to let them speak!

Now That You're 40

2010-12-11T14:09:00.000-05:00

My dearest love,

Now that you're 40, 40 seems young.

To tell you (and whoever else is reading this) the truth, I've had a tiny bit of apprehension through the years as I've thought about you turning 40. We've known some people who have apparently gone crazy when they hit the big 4-0 and have made some terrible decisions, particularly related to their marriages. I've wondered, would that be you? You've always made me feel so incredibly loved and secure in our marriage, and I couldn't imagine life any other way; but would this birthday suddenly make you lose your mind and look for a way out? I'm happy to report that, as of this morning when you kissed me goodbye before you left for work, you still seem quite sane and in-love with me. ;-)

I've only known you for the last fifteen years; but from that time, it's not difficult to remember 40 significant moments for us. Wanna take a walk down Memory Lane with me?

1. first time I saw you (on the steps of the university in Jerusalem)
2. the field trip to Ashkelon and your decision to stay with the small group of us that were heading to Tel Aviv to spend the night (instead of going back to Jerusalem with the larger group)...I knew I was falling hard for you on that trip because I was so jealous! any time you talked with another girl from the group, it tore me up inside; I wanted you for myself! :)
3. you going with me to Bethlehem to help out at Bethlehem Bible Institute (instead of going away sight-seeing during Spring Break)
4. "the talk" in the garden on the night of Passover
5. the kiss at Petra
6. the proposal at the Western Wall (I had no answer for you then)
7. you riding with me to the airport when I flew back to the States after that life-changing semester in Israel (and your suggestion to me that we hop on a plane to Australia together and get married! crazy man) :)
8. our discussion on the big rock at Camp-of-the-Woods, hammering out not only our beliefs, but also how we would handle disagreements
9. our drive home from Washington, D.C., via the Skyline Drive, and all those deer we saw
10. the proposal here in Virginia (I still wasn't ready)
11. the proposal at Lover's Cove on Catalina Island (this time, I said yes) :)
12. the many pictures you sent me of our first apartment, and your excitement about finding one with such a gorgeous view (the bay in San Diego)
13. our wedding, wonderful in every way
14. the pomelos you went to great pains to find so you could bring them to our wedding
15. the elaborate, romantic Valentine's Day dinner you planned and served me on the beach in Coronado
16. your compassion, during the first years of marriage, when I would occasionally wake up during the night with horrible headaches (one time, you fixed me some soup...another time, you mixed a little Kahlua with milk and gave that to me!) :)
17. your statement on January 1, 2000, that you were ready for us to have a baby (two and a half years ahead of the schedule I thought we had in place!...it didn't take me long to adjust my thinking to your revised schedule) :)
18. standing outside the Boys and Girls Club with the Fields and Bentleys and being asked to go on staff for the church, knowing that one of your (our, really) dreams was coming true
19. watching you preach in the Boys and Girls Club; standing in awe of your zeal and passion and ability to communicate and inspire (God uses you mightily because you're such a willing vessel)
20. your graduation from the University of Phoenix (I was SO PROUD of your diligence and determination)
21. your weekly trips to the Chula Vista farmer's market to get Oro Blanco grapefruits for me when I was pregnant with Josiah
22. the birth of Josiah
23. the sermon you preached the Sunday after he was born (which happened to be Father's Day)
24. the phone call you received, asking us to sell our stuff, pack a few suitcases, and move to Israel
25. the joy you brought into our apartment when you would return from a morning of Hebrew Ulpan (language learning) to have lunch with Josiah and I (we always eagerly awaited your arrival, often watching out the window to see you come into view)
26. the many, many times you strapped on the Snugli and carried Josiah with you during outings in Tel Aviv
27. our seventh-anniversary celebration, which included a stay at the famous King David Hotel in Jerusalem, fulfilling a long-held dream of mine
28. the evenings of walking with you to your Hebrew classes at that Ulpan that was further away; I was pretty far along in my pregnancy with David and I waddled as I walked; you slowed your steps to match mine; I loved that time to talk with you; sometimes we got freshly squeezed pomegranate juice on our way; Josiah was in the stroller, and after we kissed you goodbye, we would waddle our way home, looking in the shop windows, and watching the people on the streets
29. the birth of David
30. the time we spent in England while moving from Israel to Virginia, and your advice to me to just relax and enjoy everything (that was exactly what I needed to hear)
31. the day you walked into West Side Barber Shop with resume in hand (little did we know that God would use that shop to provide for our family during these years in Virginia so far)
32. the morning after your birthday in 2006 when you opened the door to our neighbor being held hostage by a gunman, and I saw first-hand that "greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends" (John 15:13)
33. your encouragement to me in January 2007 to start blogging; I wouldn't have done it without you (little did we know just how much I would indeed blog over the following years!)
34. your calm demeanor when we were stuck in the ferry line to go to Ocracoke, NC, while vacationing on the Outer Banks in September 2007; we were stuck there because the battery of the van died! (talk about stressful! whew! but you handled it amazingly well)
35. the birth of Tobin
36. the way you missed me and the boys so intensely when you were in Israel without us in July 2008
37. the birth of Shav
38. you killing the snake (well, snakeS, since you've been a part of more than one snake incident around here); you're my protector and hero :)
39. our decision to leave the church of which we were a part; I saw your heart torn to pieces by your love for God and for people and by your desire to see righteousness be done
40. late night talks on the couch ("can I sit at your feet, Boaz?") about where God is leading us and what the next step is

Now that you're 40, I realize anew that, in all the ways that matter, you've made me a extravagantly wealthy woman.

Now that you're 40, I still can't believe that you chose me to share the adventure of your life.

Now that you're 40, I stand in awe of who you are as a man: your talents and abilities, your convictions, your provision for us, your boldness and courage, your character and integrity, your tenderness when appropriate, your knowledge base which is so vast (you seem to know something about everything!), and the love you lavish on me and our family.

Now that you're 40, I look forward to the next set of memories we'll build in this new decade of your life.

Now that you're 40, I love you more than ever.

I am yours,
Happy

All We Need Is the People

2010-12-10T16:56:00.000-05:00

We're hosting a fellowship potluck tonight, and today has been a day of preparation for that. I've had good helpers, especially when it came time to make the birthday cake. ;-)

The chairs are waiting.

The plates are waiting, too...

...as are the glasses...

...and the forks, knives, and spoons.

All we need now is the people!

When You Let Your Children Play with Your Nativity Set...

2010-12-09T22:31:00.001-05:00

...you never know what might happen. All the figures might get pushed very close together...Baby Jesus might be given trucks to play with...the shepherds might end up on top of the stable (as seen in the 3rd video down)...and, worst of all, Jesus might lose a hand!

All those adventures happened in Christmases Past. Here in Christmas Present, I discovered this scene last evening:

All the figures were laying on their backs. All except the camel, that is...

...he was standing upright in a tiny space between the stable and the fence. There wasn't enough room there for him to fall down.

But why were they all laying down? Had an earthquake come by and rattled them all to the ground? Had the angels appeared and overpowered them with majesty and glory? Had some kind soul gently laid the figures down so they could go to sleep?

Then I found a clue:

See it there on the top of the stable? I'm not sure what it is or where it came from; but to my untrained eye, it looks like a picture of a Star Wars storm trooper (is that what they're called?) Maybe some imaginative boys were mixing genres of play!

Since all my sons were asleep in bed when I found it, I removed the scary face picture from the roof, set up all the figures, and arranged them the way I like it.

Sleep soundly, sweet one-handed Jesus! Aren't you glad we take literally your command to let the little children come to you? ;-)

We Tweak

2010-12-08T23:30:00.000-05:00

My laundry room is a wonderful place. (For a better view of it, click here for this post in which I did a little tour of that room.) But there's something in us women that makes us want to tweak our surroundings, even when we're quite happy with them. There's always a little something that could be changed: a new picture hung on the walls, or the furniture rearranged slightly, or an accessory added somewhere. We're always fine-tuning our environment. And it's not just something women do, by the way. Jeff, for example, likes to tweak stuff related to his work. Take his business website; he's often fiddling around with it, changing things here and there, updating info, using a new way of scheduling appointments online, etc. He's a tweaker, too--just not in household stuff like I am. I'm pretty sure he doesn't lie in bed at night wondering what to hang on our walls. ;-)

Back to the laundry room... I really was satisfied with it, but then I thought, "I think I can make it a little better." :) I realized that one thing I didn't like about the room was how, as soon as I cleared all the dirty clothes off the floor, another item of clothing would get put there, and the pile would begin to grow again. We do have a wonderful laundry chute that holds most of our dirty clothes, but sometimes clothes get taken directly to the laundry room, and I didn't like the messy feel that would quickly begin to develop in the room once that first item of clothing was dropped there. My idea was to get a three-part laundry hamper to put in the laundry room so that clothing could be sorted and placed into that instead of cluttering up the floor. When I looked online to order one, I found some nice normal (boring) hampers that would have worked fine; but then I saw these animal ones...

...and soon abandoned my plan of a normal hamper in favor of these silly ones. Besides the way they bring a smile to my face, I also wanted them because my plan is to incorporate Josiah and David more in the ever-present laundry project; and if these funny faces make it more enjoyable for my boys, that's reason enough to have them. I'll let them introduce themselves...

Hi, I'm a friendly duck! What's that, you say? You've never seen a blue duck? Well, I have one thing to say to that: now you have! You know how it is with the genetic engineering they're doing these days; you just never know what's going to hatch! Anyway, my job is to hold the darks; and this family sure has a lot of them! I'm usually stuffed to the bill.

I'm a happy frog, and I hold the light-colored clothes. My mouth doesn't stay shut very well, so you can always peek inside me. See Shav's sleeper inside me? I sure love soft cuddly clothes!

Hello! Mrs. Ladybug here. I love my spots, but not the ones on the white clothes I hold. It's a good thing nobody puts me inside that big machine across the room; it might make my spots come off, too!

When I get my act together and do a better job of guiding Josiah and David through their daily chores, I want them to, each morning, get the clothes out of the laundry chute and sort them into the proper hampers. I think they'll have a lot of fun with this. I am, anyway!

Inviting colorful critters into the laundry room wasn't the only way I tweaked it. While cleaning out and organizing the cellar recently, I came across these old crocks; and suddenly an idea burst into my consciousness. Why don't I use them to store my laundry soap?

I'm not one of those thrifty souls who makes their own laundry soap. Nope, I just buy mine at the store, whatever kind is cheap.

But rather than leaving it in the box and having that sit out on my counter, I'd much rather put it into a crock (one for the detergent and one for Oxyclean, since I've been adding a little of that to every load recently--ever since Jeff's mom was here and started doing that in the laundry) and store it that way. It's more beautiful like that. :)

Jeff is always kind and affirming when I tell him about the ways I've tweaked things around here, but he doesn't get too excited about such things. :) He did, however, tell me that he really likes the fact that I put the soap in the crocks. His reason? Because it makes the laundry room smell so fresh. :)

Modern Morality, a Miserable Mess

2010-12-07T23:51:00.000-05:00

Through the years, my dad has gotten a lot of free magazines sent to him to place in his waiting room for his patients to peruse while waiting. Now that he's retired, he obviously doesn't need all of them, so one day last week, my mother brought a few up to our house for us to enjoy--magazines that were applicable to our life situation of having young children. I picked up one to leaf through while I finished lunch recently, and I could not believe some of the things I read in it.

It was a run-of-the-mill parenting magazine, the kind that tells you that your child should be walking by 13 or 14 months of age (ours never do), what the hottest toys are for Christmas this year (I don't think I'll be buying them, thanks anyway), and how to deal with siblings who don't get along. It's not a Christian magazine, but not a radical left-leaning magazine with an agenda to promote either. Just a "normal" American parenting magazine.

However, if what I read in it is normal, where in the world is our culture headed?! And how far have we fallen from the societal norms in place when our country began?!

Let me give you some examples of what stood out to me (other than the overt emphasis on consumerism which is bothersome enough all by itself)...

~ the inclusion of profanity: on the off chance that one of my children would actually pick up this magazine and look inside, enticed by the colorful advertising of toys every child *needs*, I don't want their innocent eyes to chance upon the four-letter word that starts with "D" that I discovered on one of the pages -- at this stage of life, my kids say "oh, bother!" when they're frustrated (inspired by Winnie-the-Pooh, of course) -- I'm not eager for their understanding to be broadened in this way, and the thought that profanity is used casually in a magazine like this is shocking to me

~ the statement that this coming year is "the year to put yourself first" -- this was immediately qualified by the statement that no, we're actually supposed to put ourselves in second place: right after the kids -- ya know, I might be strange, but in my ordering of priorities, I've got two other things that come in before me: God and my husband -- now I understand that not everyone has a relationship with God so not everyone would put Him in first place -- but it doesn't take a rocket scientist to realize that part of the reason so many modern American marriages disintegrate is because Mom makes the kids the center of her universe and neglects Dad -- so, no thanks, modern American parenting magazine, I don't think I'll be putting either myself or my kids in first place this coming year -- I believe that as I pour out myself for others (God, husband, children, friends), I am filled -- that order of priorities works for me!

~ the disrespect to men -- jibes about how, for example, men are the wimpy ones who complain about pain do nothing to enhance male/female relationships

~ acceptance of ella (the new morning-after-after-after-after-after pill) -- yep, five days after an "encounter," you can pop this pill and quietly eliminate ~~anything~~ anyone that might have come into being from that encounter -- when I think of the miracle of life and the wonder of pregnancy and the many women whose wombs yearn to be filled, I grieve at the thought of women being encouraged to go the ella route -- I understand that there are times in a woman's life when, for various reasons, it is not in her best interests to mother a child -- there are answers for how to deal with that and how to help a woman through that extremely difficult situation -- but abortion is never the answer, and I will never change my mind on that -- and, modern American parenting magazine, no matter how jovially you discuss ella and no matter how neatly it's packaged, anything labeled as "emergency contraceptive" will always be absolutely repulsive to me

~ the advice given about how to deal with dissatisfaction in intimacy -- for reasons of common decency, I won't write what that advice was or say any more about this

~ the attitude that children are a bother, not a blessing, and that you should carefully control how many you have so that you don't end up with too many "bothers"

~ the idea that beauty comes from the latest lash booster, and that every woman is sitting around yearning for longer eyelashes

Although all of the above stood out to me glaringly, I do realize that, for ~~better~~ worse or for worse, they are a part of our modern American culture. I do tend to live in a bubble; but the walls of my bubble are clear, so even though I'm insulated from the full impact of the cultural drift we're experiencing, I realize it's happening. I shouldn't be shocked. I really shouldn't.

But then I saw two more things in the magazine, and yes, these did shock me.

The first was an ad for a well-known diaper company. The ad pictured a typical child's room: cozy teddy bear, shelves of books, a rattle lying abandoned on the floor. But in the center of the room, in LARGE white letters, were the words
OH
C---!
In front of the bottom word, and partially blocking the middle two letters, was a box of wipes by this respected company: the wipes being the item that was actually being advertised. But even though the entirety of the letters was not visible, I could easily picture Josiah or David flipping through the magazine (or even glancing at it as I was reading it), having their attention drawn by the picture, and then asking innocently, "What's that word?"

"Well...um...it's...uh...it's not a word that Daddy and I have chosen to say and it's not one that you're allowed to say either, so let's just turn the page, shall we?" Fortunately, that scenario didn't happen, because I didn't let them see the magazine.

,But seriously, are advertisers allowed to use what I would consider to be profanity in such a way?

And then the last thing--and this was when I decided that I'd had enough and wasn't going to read anymore... In answer to a question about giving, the magazine's response was this:
When it comes to charity, you want to give so it feels good, not until it hurts.

Oh, yeah? So that's what motivates us: feeling good? That's our standard for how much to give? Because clearly it's all about me, right?

And giving til it hurts would be far too RADICAL or CRAZY for us. Because of course, no wise teacher or leader would ever expect us to give up everything...

...or would He?

Despite the fact that I just referred to Jesus, and despite the fact that anyone who reads my blog for...oh...about 2.8 seconds knows how important my relationship with Him is to me, I'm actually not just thinking of Christian ethics as I write this. What I am considering is whether the universal moral standards that transcend a particular religion allow for this kind of thinking and behavior!

It reminds me of the incident that occurred a few months ago in Tennessee when firefighters stood by and let a man's house burn to the ground because he hadn't paid a $75 fee. I, along with many others, was appalled by that; and I freely admit that if I had been a firefighter there that day, I would have had to disobey my orders and assist the man however I could. Why? Because there's a higher standard!

I'm sure I think about Charles and Caroline Ingalls and their children way too much when considering how to live my life. :) After all, they weren't perfect; and the Little House books only present part of the picture when it comes to their lives. But really, can you imagine Pa standing by and letting someone's house burn down because of an unpaid fee? No? Neither can I.

Do you think that the pioneer spirit that built our country could tolerate such selfishness: the selfishness that lets a house burn without attempting to put it out or the selfishness that says, "I'll give so it feels good, not until it hurts"? What rubbish!

Sometimes I feel old. I just feel old. Too many times to count, I see or hear something and think, "What is this world coming to? I can't believe how dark things are getting!" Yep, it's true, I must be getting old, because hasn't every generation felt this way as they look at the generations coming up behind them? But still, sometimes all I can do is shake my head and grieve.

It doesn't feel like that's enough. Sure, I mourn the lack of {what I thought was} basic morality. But I want to do more than cry about it. I want to DO something. I want to change the world! I want to wipe out the darkness and bring the light and reform the bad guys and restore the relationships and erase the pain and...and...and...

But...sometimes all I do is grieve.

On Sunday, Jeff was talking about Lot, tracing his story through the Biblical text from first mention to last. It was puzzling to me that, despite Lot's obvious weak morals and his legacy of compromise and taking the easy road (which turned out to be the hard one after all!), he is still called "righteous." At first glance, that's about the last adjective I would use to describe him. But in 2 Peter 2, we find these words:
...Lot, a righteous man, who was distressed by the depraved conduct of the lawless (for that righteous man, living among them day after day, was tormented in his righteous soul by the lawless deeds he saw and heard)...
He's not called righteous once, but three times! And why? Because he was distressed by the wickedness around him.

Maybe mourning is the necessary starting point.

Maybe grieving is more valuable than I thought.

It Sounded Wise

2010-12-06T23:56:00.001-05:00

I was in the middle of writing a much lengthier post tonight, but then Shav interrupted me with persistent cries that needed some attention. I ended up sitting here in my rocking chair, with him in my arms, and a soft blue blanket around us both. He fell asleep on my shoulder, and I savored the feel of his head resting on me and his dear body getting heavy in my arms. These moments fly so quickly...

So, Long Post didn't get done, but Short Post will stand in for him.

Today, I said to Josiah, "For a boy of eight, you're pretty wise."

His response: "That's because I look beyond the targets of my gun."

Doesn't that sound so wise? I'm not sure exactly what it means, although I'm fairly certain he was using "gun" metaphorically because, although I can't remember the specific context of our conversation, I know we weren't discussing weaponry. But doesn't it seem so profound?

I'm sure if I had more time, I could dig deeper and find the blog post just waiting to be written about his statement. "Looking Beyond the Targets of My Gun." It has a meaningful ring to it, don't you think?

Next time I'm burning the midnight oil with Shav in my arms, maybe I'll figure out the significance of it all. Until then, I'll just admire the weight of wisdom those words carry.

Even if I don't understand it. ;-)

~ pictures from way back in September...posted here tonight just for fun

Spectacular

2010-12-05T23:35:00.000-05:00

The concerts were spectacular. But, of course! Was there ever any doubt?? ;-)

~ Josiah is on the front row, second from the right

When I met up with Josiah after last night's concert, he was bubbling over with excitement. He loved performing, could hardly wait for his next chance to be on stage, and exclaimed, "I could sing five more concerts!!" I think the performance bug bit him hard last night. :)

~ it's kind of hard to spot him; but if you find the microphone that looks like it's looming above the choristers' heads, then follow that down to where it intersects with a crossbar, you'll find Josiah to the right of that, in the front row again

Sons of the Day was the featured group that performed with SVCC, and they did a phenomenal job, too. In fact, both Jeff and I thought that they showed tremendous improvement since the last time we saw them. It was extra-special to have them perform in this concert because our friend Chris is in that group. :)

~ Josiah is standing beneath Julia White's (she's the director) outstretched left hand...David is one of the children standing on the steps to ring bells during Jingle Bells; he's wearing a dark green sweater, and is about the 5th child from the left...although David sings with abandon when he's here at home with just the family, he tends to get shy (or something) when he's with a group...before the concert, I had reminded him to actually sing on Jingle Bells and not just ring the bell...afterwards, he said to me, "I forgot to sing"...that's OK, sweetie; there's always next year :)...Caleb, the son of Julie who commented on the previous post, is the tall guy in the back row on the far left of this picture

Some other things I want to remember:

~ Jeff and I both ushered last evening, and my parents stayed home and babysat our three younger sons...then today, Jeff stayed home with Tobin and Shav; and the rest of us went to the concert...I ushered again, and David sat with my parents who reported after it was over that he did a super job of sitting still (in Grandma's lap for most of the time) and listening...Jeff and I really enjoyed ushering, and hopefully we'll get to do it again

~ shortly before the concert started last evening, I happened to catch a glimpse outside as someone came in the door of the auditorium; and I realized with wonder that it was snowing!...our first flakes of the year...it was the crowning touch on a perfect evening, as if God said, "Here, let me dump even more joy into your heart this night"

~ the first thing my dad said to me after the concert today was how he got all choked up when Josiah came onto the stage, so much so that he couldn't even sing! (the audience was singing a Christmas carol with the choirs at that point)...and then later in the concert, when Josiah's choir again came on stage, Dad got choked up again!...as we rode home in the Big White Van, Mom told me how she had gotten teary-eyed, too; but I fully expected that...after all, I got my leaky tear ducts from her :)...but Dad!...I think he's turning into a big softie in his old(er) age ;-)

~ one of the songs that Sons of the Day sang was What Child Is This...I love that song; it's so beautiful...but both last night and today, I was jerked out of my musings of "oh, this is such a nice, sweet song" by the lyrics of the second verse...I don't know how you're used to singing it, but I grew up singing "this, this is Christ the king, etc." as a refrain for all of the verses...as it turns out, each verse actually has its own set of words until the last phrase which they all share, "the Babe, the Son of Mary"...in the second verse, at the pinnacle of the song, these words come crashing in:

Nails, spear, shall pierce Him through,

The cross be borne, for me, for you.

Woah...that's intense...smack dab in the middle of a lullaby about the greatest child ever born lies a prophecy about his violent death...it got me thinking about what lies ahead for each of my children--and how grateful I am that I don't know the future and that my children's lullabies don't include a description of their death!...and then I got to thinking about Julian Assange...really, I did, all because of lyrics from a Christmas carol...in case you live under a rock news-wise (like I usually do) and don't know who that is, he's the founder of WikiLeaks, and he's on the run, hated (and that strong word isn't even strong enough) by a myriad of individuals and governments around the world--all because he exposed the dirty, corrupt world of politics...I'm no prophet, but it doesn't take a prophet to sense that the end is coming for him, and that it might be violent...but you know, he was once somebody's baby...somebody once fed him and bathed him and changed his clothes and diapers and (hopefully) played with and sang to and cooed over him...and then Julian grew up and had a son...did Julian bounce his son on his knee?...did he toss him playfully up in the air and delight in his laughter?...I don't know where I'm going with this...I guess I'm just recording my thoughts spurred on by the concert today, even though they're jumbled and senseless!...what if Julian's lullaby had included a prophecy about what would happen to him in the last month of 2010?

~ towards the end of the concert, the Concert Choir sang Noel by Todd Smith (of the group Selah)...I love that song!...but in all my times of listening to it here at home on my Selah CD, I never realized that the translation is this:

Noel, Noel, Jesus has come to live with us.

If you want to know the Child, you have to come kneel.

I like that. I really like that.

And I really, really have loved this weekend!

Watching, Pondering, Grieving, Celebrating

2010-12-04T14:12:00.001-05:00

Today, one of my 30-something friends watched her 70-something dad get married, 18 years after his first wife died. Today, one of my 70-something friends buried her daughter, a victim of cancer's vicious teeth and long, reaching arms. Today, I ponder the mysteries of the inexorable circle of life.

Today, I observe my boys, watching them closely, noticing their accomplishments, seeing what brings them delight, what causes them frustration, what makes them sad, what causes laughter to well up in their souls. I see Shav...

...so proud of himself because he can line up small metal trains and connect them magnetically to each other.

I've no pictures of this, but I remember how last evening, while I was down on the floor with him, I saw him for the first time ever, get up on his hands and knees and actually crawl. He only moved a centimeter or two, but still, what an accomplishment for our Scooter! And then came a milestone I'm a little embarrassed to write about: from that hands-and-knees position, Shav maneuvered his feet and legs around in such a way that he could sit down. That's the first time I've ever seen him get himself into a sitting position from lying down. And all the childrearing books say he should have hit that milestone months (and months and MONTHS) ago! But Shav has his own timetable; and for him, it's just right.

Today, I remember how Tobin fell asleep last night at the supper table.

Some days, he resists his afternoon naps so fiercely! He stays in his room and plays {mostly} quietly, which is good preparation for when he graduates to Josiah and David's status of having quiet time in the afternoons. But on the days that he doesn't sleep in the afternoon, he gets so very tired by evening.

In the fairy tales, the princess is always the one asleep; but I think in my real-life fairy tale, he's my little sleeping prince.

Today I celebrate David's accomplishment of finishing all 100 lessons in his reading book! Yesterday morning as we did some school work, he did Lesson 96...but he didn't stop there. He asked if we could continue, so I said "Sure!" :) and we spent the first part of his quiet time, sitting on the little couch together by the woodstove with a Christmas bear blanket wrapped around us (he had just gone out to feed the animals before this, so he was a little chilly--but I enjoyed the blanket, too!) and his reading book spread on our laps.

Lesson 97...Lesson 98...Lesson 99...and then finally...

...Lesson 100! His good reading skills and excitement about reading have been one of the great surprises of my homeschooling career! :)

Today I anticipate Josiah's debut...

...with the Shenandoah Valley Children's Choir!!! (pictures from Monday's rehearsal...that's why all the seats are empty!) :)

At long last, the day is here. He will walk on stage in that well-known uniform, take his place in the front row, second from the right, and sing his little heart out. I can't wait.

If you see me tonight standing in the back with a tear in my eye, you can smile and nod sympathetically. You'll know what I'm thinking:

That's my boy up there, y'all. That's my boy! And I'm so exceedingly proud of him.

Of all of them, really. The dressed-up singer. The eager reader. The adorable sleeper. The excited train-assembler. As the circle of life spins around, I couldn't be happier that God put those boys here, at this time, in this space, in my family. No matter how long or short our spin is, I will treasure them...

...today.

The Shavs in December of 2010

2010-12-03T22:33:00.003-05:00

Some traditions start by accident. Some begin with intentional thought. And some? Well, they start with an action that is just too cute not to do again; and thus is born a tradition!

Case in point: a yearly picture of Shav the Boy and Shav the Bear together. This was the first installment of the Shavs, taken way back on January 2 of this year and originally posted here:

I remember thinking, as I snapped that photo, "I sure hope Shav doesn't pitch himself forward and fall out of that chair!" So much changes in {almost} a year.

Here is what this darling pair looked like today, 11 months after the first photo:

Such delectable sweetness!

May this series featuring The Shavs continue for many, many years! :)

If November Had 32 Days...

2010-12-02T23:40:00.002-05:00

...I wouldn't feel quite as behind as I do now.

Actually, when I remember where I was a year ago and how behind I felt going into that Christmas season, I realize that this year, I'm actually way ahead of the game! To give just one example, last year I wrapped all the Christmas gifts on Christmas Eve--and by "wrapped," I mean, "shoved into gift bags and threw some tissue paper on top"! Not my most favorite way to spend that special evening. This year, I've already had two sessions of wrapping gifts (one was made possible by the kindness of Sally, who generously gave of her time to come over with her kids and watch my kids one afternoon so that I could have some free time to do whatever I wanted--what a friend!), and it's delightful to look under the Christmas tree and already see some pretty packages under there. :)

But here is the area that I am blatantly behind in:

Yikes! November rolled around, and it was my grand intention to post something about this theme every day. I even had a list of ideas jotted down in one of my drafts: ideas about memorable encounters that changed the course of my life or taught me a valuable lesson, stories that I wanted to reflect upon and share. But I didn't get very far into the month before events of life crowded out my intentions to write those stories; and then when I got caught up in the mother-in-law series...well, it was all over for Encounters after that!

But now that December is here, does that mean I can't go back and finish (or add to, even if I don't finish) the 30 Days Thankful series? Of course not! Gratitude is good and right any time of the year. And besides, I didn't finish last year's 30 Days Thankful theme until the very last day of the year. Compared to that, I'm astonishingly early. ;-)

Encounters #8, 9, 10, 11, 12

I want to group these encounters together because they all involve books. Let me tell you about five books that have significantly impacted me. As fellow readers can imagine, limiting myself to five is quite difficult; but I'll try to contain myself and not go over that number. :) Additionally, I will try to keep my natural wordiness in check so that I can give a brief summary of each encounter and then zoom ahead to the next one. Each of these almost deserve their own blog post, but I'll do my best to lump them together so that I can catch up a little. :)

When I was in college, I went through a period of questioning my faith and trying to determine whether the spiritual path of my parents was the one I wanted to travel. In hindsight, I realize that was completely normal; but at the time, it made my whole world feel a little shaky. During a conversation with one of my professors, Dr. Terry Brensinger, he recommended that I read Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis. I complied; and as I started reading it, it was like water to a desert wanderer who is dying of thirst. That book gave strong bones and mighty muscles to my weak-at-the-time faith, and I realized that it is not only right to believe, it is also reasonable. That was a life-changing revelation, to say the least. (And I am trying to say the least. But oh, I'd love to say more about this!)

On to the next one...

During my senior year of college, my roommates threw a surprise bridal shower for me--and, oh, I'd love to say more about this, too! One of the gifts I received that night (I believe it was from my friend Susan Monserrate) was The Five Love Languages by Dr. Gary Chapman. At the time, I had not heard of love languages...or Dr. Gary Chapman. I thought he was Amy Grant's (now ex-)husband. Nope, different Gary Chapman. Anyway, what a blessing that Susan gave me that book and that I was able to read it (and Jeff read it, too) at the beginning of marriage and establish healthy love-language usage from the start of our married life! I love reading marriage books and had done so before marriage and continued to do so after marriage (I still do, as a matter of fact), so I've read lots of good ones; but The Five Love Languages wins the title of Most Helpful, as far as simple, practical, down-to-earth help for marriages (and other relationships, too, since we all benefit from understanding the concept of love languages). When Jeff and I weren't feeling close or when we were hitting bumps in the road, it was incredibly useful to think of the love languages, discern which ones we were or were not speaking, and then be able to change quickly to fill up each other's love tanks. The other wonderful thing that book did for us was open the door to communication about our own needs. For example, I could say to Jeff, "I need some words of affirmation," and he would, without hesitation, pour forth meaningful, loving words. This course of action is vastly preferable to using the silent treatment...or the loud treatment (yelling at each other)...or the completely senseless game of let's-see-if-he-can-read-my-mind-and-figure-out-what's-wrong treatment.

Gotta stay focused, so I can move on...

As newlyweds, we knew we wanted to find a good church to become involved in; but the process of discovering one that seemed like a good fit for both of us seemed almost insurmountable at times. Everything changed one day, however, when a man in his 30s named Bob Ricker walked into the barbershop where Jeff worked, sat down in Jeff's chair for a haircut, shared deeply from his heart about his cancer and his young family and his church and his zeal for God's work, then walked out, having left a copy of Discipling by Gordon Ferguson for Jeff to read. Read it, he did--pen in hand, ready to criticize, marking furiously in the margins, arguing points about the Greek text and legalism and all those "one-another" scriptures Gordon had dug out of the Bible and grouped in this book. From Jeff's initial harsh critique...to hours and hours of conversation with Bob, his wife Jayne, and many of their friends...to eventual membership in that church: all prompted by Discipling. In actuality, it led to much more than membership in a specific church; it actually redefined for us what church was. And for two people who had been through as much religious stuff as Jeff and I, that redefinition was life-altering. We're still feeling the effects of it. :)

Three down, two more to go...

When we returned to the States after having lived in the Middle East for two and a half years, we once again found ourselves somewhat in a state of spiritual bewilderment. After having witnessed a wide range of religious experiences (and that's just within the Christian tradition!)--everything from participating in very charismatic worship services with Messianic Jews to watching an Orthodox woman weep as she anointed a stone slab in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre--I was wondering things like, "What kind of worship is right? What kind is wrong? And what kind do we now involve ourselves in?" The typical American Sunday morning church service left us feeling empty. What should fill us? Then I read Streams of Living Water by Richard Foster and was reminded again of the vastness of God's character compared to ours and the value of various expressions of worship. Foster talks about six traditions: contemplative, holiness, charismatic, social justice, evangelical, and incarnational. He did it in such an uplifting way that, rather than feeling like the spiritual mutts that Jeff and I really are with our varied church experiences, I was left grateful for the way these six traditions had already touched my life, humble in my attitude towards fellow believers who excel in one tradition or another (perhaps different ones than I do), and eager to learn more and grow in each of the six. I should probably read this book again!

OK, last one...

This is the easy one. Why? Because I've written about it before! It's Small Beginnings by Barbara Curtis, and I'm just going to link to the post in which I wrote about it way back in February of 2008, when Tobin was just a month old. I love this book!

Whew, I did it. Encounters 8-12 are complete. That's five more I get to check off my list. Will I make it to 30? ;-)

Mother-in-Law o' Mine, Part Seven

2010-11-30T23:59:00.005-05:00

Two weeks and a day ago, I started a post, at the prompting of Mary Bailey, about my relationship with my mother-in-law. I had no idea I would think of so many things to say! But since being succinct is clearly not my strong point, the series stretched to six episodes to tell the history of my interaction with Jeff's mom: from strangers to *real* loved ones. And now that the story concluded in this post, have I nothing more to say about this topic? Not a chance! They don't call me Wordy Woman for nothin'! (OK, they don't really call me that at all; but if they did, it would be true.) :)

A question comes to my mind: WHY are in-law relationships notoriously difficult?

Jeff and I have never subscribed to the idea that in-law relationships have to be terrible; in fact, we've set out to prove that it doesn't have to be that way at all! It grieves me to think of the widespread assumption in pop culture that mothers-in-law (and to a lesser extent, fathers-in-law) will be nosy, rude, arrogant, disrespectful, horrible creatures. There are far too many mother-in-law jokes told--and far too many people who nod their head and laugh at them because they don't realize there can be another path for in-law relationships.

But the fact remains that sometimes, even for loving families, tension can exist between the wife of a man and his mother. (And I'm sure for the husband of a woman and her father, and all the other combinations of in-laws; but I'll stick with the one with which I'm most familiar!)

In my opinion, the mother-in-law/daughter-in-law battle boils down to this: two women sharing the same man's affections. Or, perhaps more accurately, two women fighting over the same man's affections. As Jeff's bride, I want to be EVERYTHING to him: the best friend, lover, confidant, partner, cook, housecleaner, laundress, etc that he's ever had. But for many years, he was raised by and lived in the household of his mother; and without a doubt, she did things differently than I was raised to do them. Which way is better? More specifically, WHO does it better?

I think it boils down to this: whose enchiladas does he prefer? Hers? Or mine?

Of course, that's a silly example; but no more silly than a wife who can't seem to say to the mother of her husband, "Sure, we do things differently; and yes, your enchiladas are better than mine. I know he'll sometimes wonder why I don't roll his socks like you did. But, on the other hand, he chose me to be his spouse for life; and I will rest secure in that, knowing that both you and I have areas of strength but that we don't have to compete with each other. We're on the same team now."

Why is that so hard to do?

I've never seen the show Sister Wives and don't plan to do so (the whole no-TV thing sure puts a damper on my TV consumption), but I think the horror that so many of us women feel as we think about polygamy has to do with this basic fact: I want to be THE ONE to my husband. I want to be his beautiful princess that he carries away into the sunset, I want to be the queen of his castle, I want to be the love of his life; and anyone who threatens my status in his heart--be it his co-worker, friend, or even his mom--will come under attack by me. In my drive for security, even his healthy allegiance to his mother could seem to lessen me; and so, unfortunately, she becomes a target.

Let me insert a very important note here. For ease of communication, I'm writing this all in the first person, NOT because I've ever had such intense battles with Jeff's mom (thank God, we haven't), but because I'm trying to understand and communicate the dynamic that can so easily exist. I think even women who go into in-law relationships with a desire to "do them right" can slip into damaging patterns of relating; and perhaps with more understanding, that can be avoided.

I've thought of one other factor that can make visits from in-laws seem burdensome, and that is the division of labor. Two women sharing a house isn't always easy, even if the guest has good intentions and simply wants to help out. As mentioned above, they invariably have different ways of doing things; and although it seems trite and just plain stupid(!) to react in this way, "little" things--like how one loads the dishwasher or whether one hangs the towels up in half or in thirds--can cause tension.

So that's the bad news. What's the good news? (There IS good news, right? Well, of course!)

Here are some specific things that have helped me in my relationship with Jeff's mom:

1. Jeff has always taken my side and made me feel respected. I cannot overstate the importance of this. All I can do is fall to my knees, grab him by the legs, and say, "Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!" ;-) Kidding aside, Jeff has been unfailingly quick to reassure me that I am his princess, that I still have the keys to his heart, that I can vent to him about my frustrations when necessary (it happened a few times, even during this latest visit)...and that my enchiladas are better. Whoops, I wasn't supposed to kid anymore! In actuality, Jeff's mom's Mexican cooking is way better than mine, so of course her enchiladas are better than mine. And so are her ribs... Um um um, I wish I had a big plate of them right now. But oh dear, I'm getting off track. I'll try to stay focused. Food is so distracting. ;-)

2. One over-arching question guides me in my relationship with her, and that is this: How would I like to be treated by my future daughters-in-law? Lord willing, I will someday have a number of daughters-in-law to welcome into our home and family, so even though that is years down the road, I still want to learn from current life experiences to prepare for that. Again, would I be pleased if my future daughters-in-law treat me the way I treat my mother-in-law? Stop and camp on that question for a while. This is so convicting that I almost don't need to say anything else.

But I will... ;-)

3. Along those lines, earlier this year, I figured out that, if I want to communicate with her in between our visits, it needs to be with letters. Good old-fashioned letters: hand-written, sealed, stamped, sent in the mail. I am most decidedly not a phone person, and Jeff's mom doesn't do anything with computers (yet--I'd like to help her learn how to do the basics, like emailing and reading my blog :) someday--during this last visit, she expressed interest in this, so maybe one of these days when we're in California, we'll be able to help her learn how to go online). So that leaves my only option for communication with her as letters. I don't mind writing letters, but I certainly don't make the time to do it like I should; and earlier this year, it dawned on me that if I were in her shoes, I would feel so loved if my daughter-in-law would take the time to write me a letter. I'm sure by the time I have daughters-in-law, they probably won't even know what "real" letters are; by that time, we'll probably all have computer chips in our heads that read our minds and transmit messages to others. ;-) But the point is, again, the Golden Rule: how would I like to be treated? That reminds me...I need to pick up a pen and write her a letter soon. I'll add that to my to-do list--and bump it close to the top! :)

4. I think in Love and Respect by Emerson Eggerichs, it talks about the very important principle of believing the best instead of assuming the worst. I would look it up to make sure, but we lent that book to someone many moons ago and it hasn't come wandering home yet. (That's OK. I'm GLAD that the book is in someone else's hands; and even if we never get it back, I'm hopeful that it has been helpful to whoever has it now. That is so much more important than having it sit on our bookshelf!) Let me explain how I've seen this principle at work. True story: when Jeff's mom was here during this last visit, she said something like, "I don't know why you recycle. It takes too much time, and it's all for nothing!" When I hear a comment like that, in my own nature, I (mis)translate it to mean, "You're dumb, and you're wrong." In other words, I assume the worst. But was Jeff's mom really saying that? Not at all. When I listen through my Love and Respect ears, I hear the correct translation: "I love you, and I care about you. I know you are so busy, and I just wish I could lighten your load." That is believing the best. Sounds simple. Isn't always so easy to put into practice. But by changing my basic assumption to "she is expressing love," it's astounding how that transformed our communication and my emotional response to the words that slipped out of her lips.

5. Similarly, I learned to interpret her numerous acts of service as bushels of love she was pouring out over us. She's so helpful and always has been. But at times in the past, I've felt myself flare up internally, "What? You don't think I can do my own laundry?" I know that what she does, she just does because she loves us, not because she thinks I'm incapable or because she wants to put me down or because she wants to show me up ("I can keep up with your laundry, and you can't.") She just wants to show love!

6. In this post, I mentioned the wonderful words of affirmation that were lavished on me during my last family night. What I didn't specify, however, was that the ones that meant the most to me that night came from her. It was interesting timing that I "just so happened" to have my family night while she was here, and I was curious about how she would respond as various family members shared about me. She is not quick to give words of affirmation directly to a person, and I did not want to force her into a position of feeling awkward or feeling like she HAD to say something nice. :) But she spoke up boldly and expressed so much affirmation for how welcome she feels here in our home (it's definitely unique for a mother-in-law to stay four weeks, and for everyone involved to be happy about it!) and how pleased she is about how we're raising our sons and how much she loves me ("equally with Jeff," she said). Those few minutes of speech were of inestimable value to me. I've often thought that acts of service without words of affirmation can feel like condemnation; but by giving me those precious words, she poured sweet, soothing oil all over my soul. I mentioned in this post about receiving The Blessing from Jeff's dad; and although I've certainly felt welcomed and affirmed and blessed previously by Jeff's mom, that particular family night conversation stands out to me as a significant moment of Blessing from her. I treasure it; and boy, it sure made it easier to relate to her after that. I would go through my days, doing whatever mundane task needed doing, and then into my thoughts would pop the reminder, "She likes me!" It changed everything. :)

7. I wrote quite a bit in Part Six about humility, so I won't repeat all of those thoughts here. But I'll just say this: when I'm humble towards my mother-in-law, our relationship is GREAT. When my pride creeps in (and not just big, puffy, arrogant pride, but also quiet, sly, insecure pride), our relationship suffers. Even if I cover up my feelings and pretend all is well, I feel the struggle within me. For the last several months (maybe longer), I've sensed a deep need and desire within me for more women in my life to hold me accountable, to mentor me, to speak into my life, to be real with me about the areas in me that need growth. I long for that, but honestly, it's so rare to find that. During one of my conversations with Jeff during his mom's visit, when I was sharing some of my frustration, he said kindly, "Well, you said you wanted someone to disciple you." That stopped me short. Yes. Yes, I did. But on second thought, it's hard to be discipled! It's hard to be sharpened like iron! It's hard to have someone living in my house and seeing my every move! It's hard to be so open and real! But humility--oh, sweet humility!--you make all the difference.

8. I should mention one thing that Jeff's mom has gotten really good at: she respects our boundaries, particularly when it comes to how we raise our children. For example, while she was here, she wanted to buy Josiah and David each a DS--a very nice gift! But before she did, she asked Jeff and I (at separate times) what we thought. My response was, "Um, talk to Jeff, and see what he says." Jeff's response was, "Thank you, but no thanks. We'd rather not let the boys have those yet because we want them to use their time in more productive ways." And that was it. If she was frustrated by our decision, she didn't show it. If she wanted to argue, she bit her tongue. :) In short, she respected our boundaries and didn't try to sabotage our game plan for life and parenting. This is huge! I hope, when I am a mother-in-law, I remember her example and do well in this area.

9. Speaking of boundaries, one thing that I did during her recent visit that helped with the potential hardship I described above when two women share a household was, in essence, to stay out of her way when she was doing something. That sounds kind of mean, but I don't intend for it to be construed that way. Here's what our division of labor looked like (not that we sat down and formally drew up an agreement to do things this way; it's just how it worked itself out to be):
~ she's an early bird so she got up early, helped the boys with breakfast, played games with them, did any kitchen chores that hadn't been done the night before, started a load of laundry, etc. while I relished the opportunity to sleep in (at least, until Shav woke up) :) -- I, on the other hand, am a complete night owl, so when she was drifting off to sleep at 8:30 PM, I was just getting revved up and could use that time to work in the kitchen or straighten the living room or do whatever household chores needed to be done (and then, of course, have me-time and blog!) :)
~ she was eager to help me get caught up on my laundry, so she was in charge of sorting, washing, drying, folding, and all I had to do was put away...while she was here, I barely touched the washing machine! :) I didn't feel like I had to go down to the laundry room to make sure she was doing it "right"; she could do her part the way she wanted to, and I could do my part the way I wanted to
~ one afternoon, she was busy cooking in the kitchen, preparing food for supper (oh, that's another thing--we clearly communicated about who was cooking on which nights, and that was helpful), baking cookies, etc. -- on that particular afternoon, the kitchen seemed a little too small for both of us, so I went down to the cellar and had a blast completely organizing it...both of us, in our separate spheres of activity, were happy and productive
~ one project we did collaborate on was making applesauce, and obviously there was a lot of cooperation the rest of the time, too; but the idea of having a division of labor and respecting the boundaries even in household tasks was truly helpful

Well, I think I've sed all I've thunked! ;-)

But for you, Morning, did I answer the question you left in the comments? And for anyone else, do you have further questions? I want to be considerate and tie up any loose ends that I left dangling throughout the course of this series of posts.

For now, however, I've said enough. This Wordy Woman is going to bed!

When My Eyes Are Open...

2010-11-29T22:42:00.000-05:00

...I realize that every day is filled with blessings galore. Like...

~ friends who sympathize when I'm not feeling well...and a friend who says, "I'm sorry you're not feeling well; maybe you should drink some hot tea!"

~ the hot tea itself, with extra milk and sugar in it...because if anything can cure a cold, it's extra sugar. Well, maybe. ;-)

~ a cold that turns out to be milder than I thought--I'm SO grateful! Discomfort is easier to deal with than out-and-out pain.

~ sons who cooperated beautifully during a mini photo-shoot this morning (I *needed* new pictures for the blog header I'm planning for December.) ;-)

~ a mom who thinks that, even though I only asked her and Dad to get me some chicken at Costco, I really should have some shredded Mexican cheese...and two packages of grape tomatoes...and two huge bags of tortilla chips for Jeff...and a bag of pomelos. Gifts of food are welcome indeed!

~ boys who are young enough to find great pleasure in twirling around in the living room.

~ a husband who says, "That's a great idea!" when I say, "Do you think we should get such-and-such for the boys for Christmas?"

~ a gorgeous sunset sky.

~ a dad who says, "Sure!" when I say, "Could you please take Josiah to SVCC practice so I don't have to wake up Shav to take him along?"

~ putting the Christmas tablecloth on the table for the first time this year.

~ comfort food for supper.

~ a mom who stays after supper to do the dishes and clean up the kitchen while I go get Josiah from choir.

~ four boys who all went to sleep peacefully tonight.

~ the warm electric blanket waiting for me. :)

I'm so glad my eyes were open today.

And Just Like That, I...

2010-11-28T20:15:00.001-05:00

...caught a cold. At the 8:30 church service we attended this morning, I felt perfectly healthy. When we went to the Christmas tree farm afterwards, I marched up and down the hills with vigor. Then we drove to the barbershop to drop off a tree there and...

I sneezed.

And suddenly, I knew I was catching a cold. A half hour later, while eating lunch here with my parents, I felt the familiar tight throat and the itchy, drippy nose. Oh no, here we go. Let me grab the bottle of Vitamin C and the box of Puffs Plus.

My original plan was to spend some quiet time this afternoon finishing my mother-in-law series; but once those symptoms hit me, I decided the wiser course of action was to go to bed and sleep while the little ones slept. So much for finishing that series today!

No matter. This gives me a chance to post these pictures from our romp at the Christmas tree farm. It's a delightful tradition for our boys, and I'm not sure Christmas would be complete for them without it. When we first went back in 2007, I suspected that it might be the start of a family tradition; and sure enough, every year we make the trip to Singers Glen to the farm (here is 2008 and here is a snippet from 2009)--much more fun than our family tradition in San Diego of making a trip to Home Depot to choose our tree!

At the farm, there are hills to climb...

...and run down...

...and run back up.

There are long shadows to chase...

...and a tree to (watch Daddy) cut down.

There are more hills to climb...

...and arms to outstretch when the climb seems too much and you have to call out, "Mommy, carry me!" (To which I replied, "No, I can't carry you because I'm carrying Shav, but I can hold your hand!" Then suddenly Tobin found new strength and realized he could actually climb it himself after all.) :)

There are hills to fall down on...

...and get up on to continue the race with your brother.

There are trees to drag down the hill: one for home and one for work.

And today, for a short time only, there were the cutest boys to photograph!

And no trip to the Christmas tree farm would be complete without candy canes to suck! See how serious Tobin is about this? :)

Also today, as a happy surprise, there was a kind lady who was willing to take a family picture of us outside the springhouse. Pictures of our little family of six are few and far between, so I was especially grateful for this treat.

Shav was a little distracted by David's candy cane; in fact, the only way we could get him to point his head in the general direction of the camera was to ask David to let Shav have a lick. :) Maybe we should have let Shav have his own.

Oh well, there's always next year. :)

Mother-in-Law o' Mine, Part Six

2010-11-27T23:54:00.001-05:00

Continuing the story from Part Five...

No wonder I was scared.

When I consider the fact that Shav is now 16 months old and that, when Tobin was 16 months old, I was only two months from having another child, I "scarce can take it in." (I know that line sounds better in "How Great Thou Art," but it describes my feelings about this, too!) To think of adding a baby to the mix while Shav is still so young and needy--not walking independently, not saying many words clearly, not always communicating his desires effectively, not even close to self-sufficiency in dressing and basic care, not to mention potty-training!--it makes my knees shake just thinking about it...and, to be perfectly honest, it makes me breathe a sigh of relief that God has not seen fit to bless us in such a way at the present time! :) How did I ever get through it before, when Tobin was still, in many ways, my baby and Shav was The New Baby? I guess the way we always get through difficult situations: one day at a time, one foot in front of the other. But looking back, I think, "It is no wonder at all that I was scared."

Mothers who have more than four children or who have children spaced even more closely than mine are allowed to snicker now at my incompetency and trepidation. :) But I had never had four children before! And I had never had children born 18 months apart! And I was trembling at the thought of it all.

But here is where the story gets good. I love this part.

That visit from Jeff's mom after Shav was born--yes, that three-week visit!--revolutionized my relationship with my mother-in-law.

Scattered throughout my posts from August of last year are snippets of praise for her--for example, Grandma Love describes how I decided that I wouldn't have another baby unless she came to stay with us and help out. ;-) I think it was obvious that I was truly enjoying having her with us; in fact, a number of people have commented to me (not so much on the blog, but more in real life) about my good relationship with my mother-in-law...and how surprised they were by how long she stayed and how happy I was about it...and how they didn't think they could ever do that with their mother-in-law! So what made the difference? What changed my reluctant, I-guess-you-can-stay-that-long heart into a welcoming, do-you-have-to-leave-so-soon heart?

In a word, humility.

There's something about having a baby that forces us to be humble. No, I can't keep all the balls I'm trying to juggle in the air at one time, but that's OK because...I just had a baby. Yes, my house is messy, but that's OK because...I just had a baby. No, I can't remember the last time I cooked a real meal, but that's OK because...I just had a baby. Yes, I realize the laundry is piled up higher than ever before, and yes, I'm aware that my son is wearing his last pair of clean underwear, but that's OK because...I just had a baby. No, I'm not going to stay up to do all the dishes tonight, but that's OK because...I just had a baby. Yes, I realize that a faint smell of stale milk is hovering around me, but that's OK because...I just had a baby! Actually, that's not OK; that is a clear sign that I need a shower, so here, somebody help me out and watch my kids and I'm heading for the bathroom. See you in a few! ;-)

Probably more than at any other time in our lives as grown women, the process of giving birth and nurturing a tiny infant brings an incredibly sharp focus to our days, making it relatively easy to define what is wheat and what is chaff. And with that clarity comes the ability to give grace to ourselves. Nobody else is expecting us to be Superwoman, so for once, we can relax and leave our cape behind and not try to pretend that we've got it all together.

At least, that's how it's been for me.

And that's how it was in August of last year when Jeff's mom was with us. Probably for the first time ever, I set aside my prideful determination to be Wife and Mother of the Year; and I humbled myself, allowing her to shower us with loving acts of service, letting her see the real me--weak and frail though I may be, not holding her at arm's length in my determination to prove myself capable. During those weeks, we didn't go on any long trips, we didn't show her the sights, we didn't focus on entertaining her (much to her relief, I'm sure). Instead, she was just part of the family. I say "just," but what an honor! What a welcome change! What a bonding time!

Once she got here and I saw how sweet it was to have her companionship and help, I felt exceedingly silly that I had been so nervous about it all and, consequently, so resistant to her stay. How foolish I was! I'm so grateful that God gave me the opportunity to learn that lesson; surely that was one of the unexpected side benefits of Shav coming into our family at that time.

Based on that visit and how dramatically different my heart became, I was looking forward to her 2010 visit with eager anticipation! Whereas the mention of three weeks had been so disturbing to me in 2009, her decision to stay with us for four weeks this year was met with great rejoicing.

As time sped by and the day of her arrival drew near, I wondered if perhaps I had built up too high an expectation of how this visit would go. I was expecting it to be easy, but maybe it would be difficult? I thought four weeks wasn't too long, but maybe I would chafe at her continued presence in our household? I remembered how well we had worked as a team after Shav's birth, but maybe this year, now that I was back to being Capable and In Charge, we would experience friction?

If you've been reading my blog during the time she was with us, you likely already know that it was a fantastic visit together, full of normal activities, day-to-day living, a few special projects (like applesauce making!), a couple of homeschool field trips, but mostly life. Plain ol' life. No, make that good ol' life. Life as a family of nine. It just felt right.

Tomorrow I hope to do a wrap-up post, sort of a "What I've Learned about Mother-in-Law Relationships" kind of post. But before I sign off for tonight, I want to mention how interesting it's been for me to walk along Memory Lane and drag from the recesses of my brain these thoughts about how my relationship with my in-laws developed. Whew, I haven't thought about some of those things for quite a long time! But it's been fun to try to summarize it all and to see how God has worked to mold my character through them and to see how He has bonded our hearts to each other. Earlier this year, I read Stepping Heavenward by Elizabeth Prentiss; and one of the major struggles described in the book is her relationship with her in-laws, specifically her father-in-law and sister-in-law who come to live with her. As I read Stepping Heavenward, I could relate to the sense of in-laws being an instrument used by God to chisel away at my selfishness and pride. When I look back, I regret the times when I fretted because of the time I had to spend with my mother-in-law. I'm ashamed of my childishness. I wish I could rewind time and appreciate her visits more fully. But of course, I can't; however, one thing I can do is move forward from this with greater love, peace, and humility.

As I've written this series of posts, I've sometimes wondered, "How is this coming across?" Of course, I know what I'm thinking and how I'm feeling; but I'm not always sure that I'm communicating it clearly to those who are reading. During the past almost two weeks, I have felt very vulnerable and second-guessed my decision to reveal so much of my heart and so many of my thoughts. But then I've decided to charge ahead, hoping that somehow, by being so perilously open, someone else will be helped, and another mother-in-law/daughter-in-law pair will become closer and more loving towards each other.

As I conclude my saga ("conclude" being a relative term, since I do want to write once more about this topic), perhaps I should emphasize the fact that, all along, my mother-in-law and I enjoyed a good relationship. There weren't conflicts, we got along fine, no arguments broke out, we built great memories when we were together. Overall, we really had a good relationship; and if it had never gotten any better, I would still have been satisfied. But now that we have crossed a boundary that I didn't even know existed, I'm rejoicing at the beautiful depth that is possible between us. I may not be a Ruth yet to my Naomi, but I'm on my way. And, Lord willing, I'm not going to stop anytime soon!

These pictures of Grandma Fisher helping Shav up the driveway in our walker remind me so much of this post from September of last year about Grandma Huffman helping Tobin up the driveway in our walker. As Yogi Berra would say, "It's deja vu all over again!" :)

What Memories Are Made Of

2010-11-26T23:46:00.000-05:00

A three-hour drive each way...

...and a horrible night's sleep in a cheap hotel room (having Tobin--AKA Helicopter Blade--in bed with Jeff and I did nothing to improve our sleep...I could not believe how much that boy moves in his sleep...I never knew whether the next blow from him would be a kick in my head or a knee in my back or a head-butt on my nose...if for no other reason, Tobin is why I dislike the thought of a family bed!)... :)

...is unquestionably worth it...

...simply for the pleasure of spending Thanksgiving with this branch of our family tree!

For purpose of comparison, last year's post, with plenty of pictures, is here. Shav was so little then!