Boys 2 Men

I am 100% sincere when I say I am thrilled to be a mom to all boys. I didn't think it would be so, but it is. The only element of co-ruling a kingdom of all males that hurts my heart a bit is that I will never experience the mother-daughter relationship, on the mom end. I know that my relationship with my own mom is very special and have seen the special closeness that my sister-in-law and mom-in-law share. It's just a different, unique, wonderful relationship that seems to grow stronger as we grow older, whereas boys seem to, for the most part, grow up and grow...away. Sniff.
I was mulling over these thoughts again while rocking an upset Benj back to sleep last night. As I cuddled him close and kissed him for the 1,000th time that day (at least) I thought ahead to how one day he and his brothers won't allow me to snuggle them anymore (nor would it be appropriate, I guess, for a 20-something to be sitting on his mother's lap). I won't have the luxury, in the future, of kissing my boys all day everyday. There will come a day when they live out in the world and will, Lord willing, head up their own families. And I felt melancholy about the loss of my close hold on them. Until God whispered to my heart: This is precisely the task I have chosen you for: raising these boys into men. And I felt peace at that. Knowing that God has selected me for this job in the lives of 3 already-incredible, beautiful children. And being blessed with a partner in this task who is selfless, affectionate, and firm with them when he needs to be. And above all, my Lord and Savior who is the ultimate resource for all the ups and downs that are included as I follow through on my job as mom.
Now if you'll excuse me, I need to dole out some kisses.

He's heeeeeeere!

Liam Jack

8lbs. 5oz.

21 inches long

Born October 17 @ 2:08 pm

Nightmares, Nephews, and the Halloween Scrooge

Although autumn precedes winter (and just the mention of the "w" word is enough to kick-start my seasonal affective disorder), it is my favorite season. Something about the cooler quality of the sunshine and the crispness of the outer temperature makes me feel, ironically, all warm and fuzzy (or is that the multiple layers I've taken to wearing?). I also love the celebrations of the season which add up to time spent with family: Halloween (though I find I've become somewhat of a Halloween scrooge; more on that later), Thanksgiving, and the promise of Christmas coming. And in the midst of all of this is God's glorious creation awash in marvelous color. He is truly an awesome Creator and this time of year I am reminded of it. Other attributes of God for which I am gratefully in awe right now: His constant provision and unwavering faithfulness.

I am also praising Him as the giver of life since it appears my newest nephew may join the world today. Stay tuned for that exciting news.

Back to the Halloween scrooge discovery. Fond memories of trick-or-treating are tucked away into my childhood nostalgia thanks to a mom and dad that focused on the fun and not foul aspects of this crazy holiday. So I'm stumped as to my "bah humbug" outlook as an adult. Six years ago I was overjoyed that we would be moving into our house right before Halloween. My first opportunity to pass out candy to the neighborhood kids - wahoo! It was all, inexplicably, downhill from there. The following year found us sitting in the pitch black in our house, shades drawn, hunkered down like criminals on the lamb. And even though our house screamed "go away!" kids still rang the doorbell in hopes of sweet treats. To no avail. Luckily we experienced no tricks in retaliation. With the arrival of our own children I vowed not to initiate costumes and candy-begging until they were the ones eagerly asking for it. However, when Jeran was 18 months old, a friend at church offered to let us borrow a costume and other friends invited us to tag along with them on Oct. 31st, so we did. Jeran, of course, was not at all interested, so it was left up to us to sheepishly shuffle up to doors and mumble "trick or treat" followed by "we're with the dinosaur" with a jerk of the head behind us to where Jeran sat in the stroller.

Fast forward to last year. We broke down and dressed the boys up (adorably, I might add) as a fireman and dalmation.

Jeran LOVED it and has been trick or treating around our house for the last year. So why the continued bad attitude toward Halloween, you might ask? Excellent question, dear reader. This year has been a fiasco of costume debate. A friend of mine has a Thomas the Tank Engine costume her son wore last year which she is willing to lend us. Perfect, I thought. At first, Jeran was on board with this idea (no pun intended. Well, maybe a little.) Then suddenly last week he insisted upon being a scarecrow. When we revisited this plan a few days ago he explained that with that costume he would surely scare people, and he should probably be a fireman again. Wonderful. Especially since I just got rid of last year's costume, genius that I am. Yesterday he came home from school (and this broke my heart) claiming that kids would think he's silly if he dresses up and he doesn't want to be ANYthing. We can't really nail down where this is coming from since I'm sure all the kids in his preschool will be dressing up. I realize girls are hitting puberty at 8 and kids are dressing like teenagers at age 10 and all, but the world hasn't changed so much that costume-wearing is uncool at 4, right? So we finally convinced him to at least stick with being a fireman again, and that's where we are currently. That is, searching for someone from whom we can borrow a costume for this purpose. Know anybody? Also adding to my scrooge-ness was our pumpkin carving fiasco. I won't even go there. Suffice it to say that JAMES AND I had a blast creating our pumpkin friend. Say hi, Sylvester:

One more thing that turns me off to Halloween, I think, is the overzealous decorating of select members of our neighborhood. Their grotesque yard makeovers and obsessive use of blood-splattered displays and disfigured characters is way out of control, to the point that I have to avoid certain streets to protect the overactive imagination of my four-year-old.

Speaking of which, my heart aches for the nightmares which he suffers, probably due to the intensity and sensitivity that are so prevalant in his personality. Each night before bed we pray with him, and he always reminds us to pray for nice dreams. It's been a good lesson on asking the Lord to protect us and giving up to Him the things of which we're fearful. But several times a week the bad dreams persist. He usually remembers them quite vividly too. He hasn't started asking us the hard questions about why, since we've prayed to the Lord, the bad dreams continue. He truly exhibits a child-like faith and persists in prayer, and that is a good lesson for me as well. In the meantime I also need to be more vigilant about limiting things he sees and hears (his dreams have been triggered by everything from an Arthur cartoon to a Thomas book and most recently by a discussion at school about Halloween). At the very least I need to discuss with him these things. I do have to say that the upside to this is his vivid imagination which he uses frequently and which I hope he will continue to use.

Well, my time to update is over and off I must go to lend a hand on exciting projects like yard fertilization and grocery replenishment. At least there is this is glorious sun and the pending arrival of a new baby boy to drive away the pre-winter blahs.

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!