Yummy, Yummy

Rice cereal, take 1:

And Ben

My middle child, often so stereotypically overlooked. Adjectives to describe my not-so-baby boy:

adorable

hilarious

mellow

loving

blankie-lover

blond

cuddler

inquisitive explorer

He's talking more and more, and he and Jeran just have ever-increasing amounts of fun together. He has the ability to be a bright light in a dark day and brings so much joy to our whole family. And who could resist those kissable cheeks?!

The Littlest Boy

Heading to bed at 1 a.m. the Saturday before Labor Day I realized it was a year to the MINUTE that we had discovered we were pregnant with Grayson (yes, I took a pregnancy test at one in the morning. Just one of many unexplainable behaviors I've exhibited in my lifetime). I recall staring in groggy disbelief at that crazy little pee-stick, and then doing my husband the privilege of sharing my shock by awakening him with a loudly whispered, "Hey - babe. Wake up. I'm pregnant." To his credit, he handled it VERY graciously. Now here we are a year later, and I CANNOT imagine our family without his squealing, grinning self (see photo above. Couldn't you eat him with a spoon?) His dad and brothers are deeply in love with him as well. Granted, the first three months weren't pretty around here, but what's past is past.

These days Grayson occupies himself with the previously mentioned smiling and squealing, as well as a lot of other typical baby activities such as drooling and spitting up. He's also had rolling over mastered for about 3 weeks, and now takes some great naps since he can safely be on his tummy. The nighttime is still a challenge. Lately he wakes up a couple of times each night, and I find myself tempted to spew a few profanities before tending to his needs, but I practice self-control and bite my tongue. When he looks up and grins as I lean over to pick him up all that irritation melts away anyway. When he's awake he loves to exercise his legs in the exersaucer, roll around, practice holding onto (and chewing) things, and just in general be adorable.

We visited the dr. a couple of weeks ago, and he is at a whopping 90th percentile on the height chart (26 1/4 in.) and 75th on the weight (15 lbs. 12 oz). All in all he is a wonderful, healthy baby, and we praise God for completing our family with him.

The Biggest Boy

While my boy looks a tad concerned in this picture, have no fear. He was just enormously frustrated that mom wanted to take another picture and he just wanted to GO INSIDE!!! Today was day 1 of preschool. I expected to be met with emotions galore, running the gamut from overjoyed to devastated. Not so. I was completely and totally at peace. I was waiting for a twinge of sadness on my part, a single tear, some sort of melancholy/nostalgic turn of the heart and thoughts of how this marks the end of an era. An era in which I am one of only a handful of people who influences my child's life. An era that marks me as "the best mommy in the whole wide world" (direct quote, by the way) and therefore gives supreme authority to all of the knowledge and information I impart to my child. An era in which I am loved unconditionally and am the "best friend".

Ok, now I'm sad.

It's true. This IS the end of an era. I know that my son starting preschool is a milestone that pales in comparison to a child entering first grade/middle school/high school/college, marrying, bearing children. But his steps into that preschool building today marked the first step on the path that will take him toward all of those milestones and away from me. However, I am overjoyed. And NO, not just because I now get 2 1/2 gloriously peaceful hours three afternoons a week (although, who are we kidding, that IS glorious). I'm overjoyed and at peace because he is ready, and that makes me ready too. I have no doubt that this is the right time and right place for him to be and will spend each day of this school year praying not only for him but his teachers and friends as well, for the part they will play in shaping his life.

JJ continues to be SO loving, joyful, social, intense, and physically active. He is a bundle of life-loving energy who continues to be most interested in trains, building/creating (particularly with Legos or Playdoh), trucks (especially when they're digging in dirt or sand), water, time (I patiently take deep breaths now at the question, "But what time will that be?"), and exhibiting his independence (most notably at a recent visit to a park where the only bathrooms were a port-a-potty. Upon insisting he could accomplish his "business" (and we're not talking pee-pee here, people) on his own in this most infamous of facilities, I let him have a go. Lo and behold, two minutes later, a naked little boy was running around in full view of one of the busiest intersections in this particular suburb. But at least he tried). He also continues to entertain us with the things he says. For example:

After listening to a song with the lyrics: "If you love Jesus....say I do!", this was his request: "Mom, can I have the I love cheese song?" Mom: "The what song?" JJ:"You know, If you love cheese say I do?"

"I had nice dreams last night! One was called "I was at Wendy's ordering food"!"

So, back to preschool: He RAN in the door, had his name tag affixed, RAN to the bathroom to scrub his hands (abandoning his backpack), then RAN to the toys to begin playing. I was proud to hear him introduce himself to a new friend, "Hi, are you Sam? I'm Jeran." And then I heard, "Don't touch my stuff" or something to that effect.

Upon returning from school there was not a lot of detail forthcoming about the afternoon, but I did get out some information about the sandbox, pretzels & juice, and the aforementioned Sam. All in all, a stellar day in the life of a four-year-old. Here's to a successful year ahead!

A-Camping We Will Go!

Last weekend marked year 10 that my college buds and I have embarked into the wild (and by wild I mean within 2 miles of civilization with modern bathrooms no more than 10 feet away) and together experienced God's wonderous nature while camping. We've come a long way, baby! Our first trip was at a teeny tiny campground bordering a cow pasture (I believe cow tipping was the activity of choice that year) and included a keg. We're MUCH more sophisticated now! This was year #4 that we chose Pokagon State Park in Angola, IN (on the Ohio border). A BEAUTIFUL park with wonderful facilities parked on a sweet little lake.

On Friday James and I left our boys with various generous family members and, cackling as we sped away (sweet freedom!), made the two hour trip to the campground. Upon arrival Friday evening we set up our tent and then spent about 20 minutes sitting in Minnie the Van while we waited for a rain shower to pass. This did not make me feel optimistic about the weekend ahead, I'll admit. However, the clouds did pass, and we enjoyed our first evening around a roaring fire, noshing on pudgie pies and s'mores and basking in the fact that nobody needed us - we could park our heinies in those chairs for the duration of the trip and no one would be maimed or starved in the meantime! Overnight we snoozed (without being awakened! Can I stress enough how much we needed a short break from our offspring?) to the sound of more rain and awoke on Saturday morning to overcast conditions. Again - my optimism felt a bit squelched. As is our tradition, we had rented a pontoon boat to cruise around the lake for the day, and this is generally more enjoyable when you don't have to wear three layers and bring an umbrella. Generally. So we took our sweet time cooking up a sweet camp breakfast and then braved the water. We parked at a sand bar that comes complete with its own restaurant (seriously - a boat that serves up such delicacies as chicken wings, french fries, and sloppy joe. Camping utopia!). The sun did make an appearance for about an hour, and the rain held off, so it was good enough for us! We lasted about 3 hours or so and then returned to camp for showers and a fantabulous dinner of "combos" (another tradition) - Italian beef & Italian sausage accompanied by various salads and drinks. Yum yum. Following dinner, commence...MORE SITTING! It was just glorious. We enjoyed another evening around the fire, catching up, cracking jokes, and just in general making merriment. So much merriment in fact that we got chewed out by the park "rangers". Twice. It's not often that a group of 30-somethings (oh, alright, and a few of you who are still twenty-somethings. Pbbbbbt - that would be me blowing rasperries at you) must be reprimanded in this manner. But hey, you try laughing hysterically with twenty people - not easy to do quietly. I'll admit (and perhaps this was due to the vodka lemonades but I think more to do with just my general euphoria at being with adult (and only adult) friends) it was pretty hilarious to have an individual mysteriously cloaked by early morning darkness not-so-delicately threaten our behinds with campground expulsion and then as he turned to go hear our friend Russ (tucking heartily into a pound of macaroni salad) utter enthusiastically, "This is great potato salad!" Insert more laughter here. For all we know, really, the guy could have been a disgruntled fellow camper. In any case it kind of killed the party atmosphere and so we all turned in. (Disclaimer: I DO, in fact, feel guilty that we perhaps kept awake families and other camping individuals at 1:15 A.M. I know I would have been pretty ticked if it was James and I and our kids and a rowdy group doing their once-a-year freedom-from-children dance were the next site over. So, I do apologize....a little.)

Sunday morning brought with it the realization that camping fun was coming to an end. Again, not in any great hurry, we pulled together another beautiful breakfast, then began the arduous task of breaking camp. Despite my obvious joy, as represented in this post, at being away from the boys for a bit, James and I were both anxious to be reunited with them and to spend a few hours with family before heading back home.

This camping tradition is honestly such a blessing to me. To still be able to join together with 18 close friends, reminisce about days of old, share life's trials and tribulations, and also laugh a LOT is just amazing. I don't know how many times I said, both aloud and in my own mind, how warm and fuzzy I felt for having my friends around (which reminds me that I didn't mention this was the first year that EVERYbody was able to make it!). I am truly blessed by my friendships, both these and others, and I was reminded of it this weekend. Next year will bring a new venue and as we gather at it, who knows what changes we will have experienced. A year seems too long and so some other group traditions are in the works to bring us together more than once a year. In the meantime, I look back fondly on the weekend's revelments and feel all warm and fuzzy once again.

10 reasons I LOVE being a mom to boys

1) In a pinch, going to the bathroom is a cinch: step 1 - find a fairly secluded or at least waterproof/absorbable area. Step 2 - drop drawers, commence urination. Step 3 - pull up drawers. Liberally apply antibacterial gel. The end.

2) Fart jokes, bodily functions, and substituting the word "tootie" into any well-known tune is acceptable. Oh...wait...that's why JAMES loves being a parent to boys.

3) They have a (I can't even think of an adequate enough adjective!) wonderful, amazing, stupendous role model in their dad! I'm so blessed that they have him to look up to and learn from.

4) I have the opportunity to help turn a few good men out into the world: godly, respectful, hard-working, compassionate, and hopefully with the ability to cook and do their own laundry (you're welcome, future daughters-in-law!).

5) Someday, while my men go out into the world together to bring forth bounteous fish, or to test their strength and reflexes at the admirable sport of golf, I, the lone female in my home, will bask in luxurious hours spent reading without interruption or making my toes pretty.

6) There is no need for arduous exercise regimens. Keeping up with the energy of three boys everyday has me in possibly the best shape of my life.

7) The proud Louwerse name will live on....

8) I won't be breaking the bank on clothing and accessories since the boys' section in any store is about a third of the size of the girls'. And while there are extremely cute things out there for boys, let's face it - they can't compare to tiny capris or shiny patent-leather Mary Janes.

9) I don't have to worry about passing down my non-existent skills in makeup application and hair styling (where WAS I when every other female was learning this?!).

10) Should my attempts at teaching good manners fail, they will probably still be able to squeak by in society on that old adage, "boys will be boys".

My heart is full...

I am crazy blessed to love and be so loved. See below. (In no particular order and, sadly, not comprehensive since I couldn't find pictures of all of you who have enriched my life.)