Jeran's moves

Call me crazy but this kid's got a future in dancing. Either that or liturgical karate. To really get the full effect you have to hear Kelly Clarkson's "Since You've Been Gone" in your head as that's the song he was jamming to. I've posted it on the ol' blog playlist to the right there to help you out. (Try starting the video around 2:15)

Sigh

Ugh - I know. You're just totally unmotivated at this point to even direct your internet browser to this address aren't you? The last post was about RABBITS. And I never gave a shout-out to my MOM for heaven's sake. I don't even have any pictures with which to amuse you (unless you are easily amused and would appreciate pictures of the bed we will soon be attempting to sell on Craigslist). Life is just piling up on us over here. We're starting to get the sense that we're overcommitted (yes, if you know us well you're chuckling because somehow we always end up doing this to ourselves). I've been trying lately to be intentional about committing my ways to the Lord (Prov. 16:3), prayerfully considering each day what it is God would have me do with my time rather than what I think is best, trying to learn flexibility in the process. I know all too well that there aren't enough hours in the day, so what is going to be the wisest way to use the ones I have? This week some of my hours have been spent at the Take Care Clinic with Ben (ear infection), at the car dealer (broken door latch - my, how I take for granted having doors that close and stay that way!), partaking in a surprise celebration for one of my most treasured friends, planning a service project for Sunday, working, etc. etc. {insert many more random activities, some amusing and some pressing, here}. We're looking forward to a little bit of a breather this weekend: a short visit with my parents, a party with friends (RAIN, RAIN STAY AWAY!), serving with fellow CenterPointians on Sunday, and spending a few days in the Dells with my in-laws. But stay tuned because you just never know how God is going to test this new flexibility thing I'm trying on.
And, ok, I lied. Here are a few pics of the fam from Mother's Day (but hey, if you're interested in that bed, let me know).

You Know You've Seen Too Many Disney Movies When...

Last week James was mowing the lawn (you know, that loathsome activity our boys are not yet old enough to have forced upon them?), when suddenly six baby bunnies leapt from a hole in the ground and scattered. He gathered the bunnettes then gathered the boys and I to check them out as he placed them gently into a box lined with grass, into which they immediately began to burrow. Nervously, I hovered over the box.
I immediately started looking around for the mommy, kind of envisioning a Bunnicula-looking creature darting toward our jugulars in defense of her kids. When no such animal appeared we started speculating about what to do with these six little balls of fluff. James insisted that they could not, in fact, be kept in our backyard (though the boys and I tried in vain to convince him it would be really cool), and as I pondered driving them to the forest preserve and letting them loose, the only image that filled my brain was of a mother bunny leaning over her empty burrow weeping giant rabbit tears into a hanky, her little cottontail shoulders quivering with grief.
Luckily the Internet, oh glorious device of knowledge, assured me that rabbits of about the size ours looked to be were ready to be out on their own and that, in fact, around this time the mother abandons them so they are forced to do just that. (Heartless coney!) So we boxed up the bunnies and did, in fact, drive to the forest preserve. We took turns naming each rabbit and then watched them dart off into the grass (James and I praying that a hawk would not at that moment plummet from the sky and cause untold amounts of trauma in our children).
Now we tell stories to each other about Bartholomew, Sir Hopsalot, Lucky, Johnny, {makes bunny face}, and Bunny Louwerse living life adventurously out in the woods and ponder how they fill their days: holding races, facing and overcoming obstacles together, meeting new animal friends. And trying to overcome the guilt that slammed into us when the mom came back and sniffed around the burrow for a week afterward. I swear she had a hanky.

A Room of His Own

Today my baby is two. Forgive me for REDUNDANTLY stating this fact, but there are NO MORE BABIES AT MY HOUSE!!! For a plethora of reasons, that I will spare you from my expounding upon, I am giddily excited by this fact. I'll admit there is also a teeny, tiny, infinitesimal part of me that mourns the passing of this stage. But it is miniscule. Hardly even worth mentioning. Our big boy is celebrating the close of year two with, finally, his own room. He's always been the lightest sleeper of our brood, taking his sweet time in falling asleep and being easily awakened by the slightest noise or disturbance. Due to various circumstances here, we put off giving him his own space until just recently, but now that the deed is done we are all sleeping MUCH better because of it.
This weekend we will celebrate the baby of our family, hopefully with a trip to the zoo, perhaps a few gifts and some emphatic birthday singing. We will marvel at his growth (or is that, girth?). We will reminisce about the last two years of his presence in our lives, and we'll probably supress a little panic as we realize anew the depth of our responsibility as parents to get these three gregarious, loving boys safely into manhood. Mostly we'll probably just feel a little stressed and overwhelmed by the pace of life right now with three active kids aged six and under. But we'll feel pretty darn blessed too.
Happy Birthday, Grayson!

Dear Uncle Sam, Thank you for unburdening me, this tax season, of funds that surely I would have frivolously wasted away on things like $4/gallon gas for my vehicle or personal debt reduction. Truly, you have saved me from financial recklessness. Surely "donating" my money to your ever deepening and widening black hole of a budget deficit and wasteful government spending is a MUCH better cause. Thanks a bunch, Another satisfied American

Is Anybody Still Out There?

Wowza. A once-a-month update does not an interesting blog make. Sorry to be so MIA over here. Life has continued to go on, but for some reason I have been neglectful of sharing it with you, faithful and occasional readers.

Spring is upon us and with it an awakening of the natural world, the senses, and the time spent out of doors. Much to James's chagrin, it also means lawn cutting season has begun. (He asked me shortly after Jeran was born how old our children would need to be to help with that task. We agreed that being of a height taller than the lawnmower was probably pretty essential. Thus, he toils on alone.) The bikes and toys have been unburied from their place in the garage, the windows have been opened, and the parks revisited. Birthdays have been and will be celebrated: Jeran turned 6 on March 17 and Grayson will officially shed his babyhood on April 29 as he turns two. At times, as I've no doubt mentioned here before, I have a complex about how lame we are about birthdays. I have friends who are absolutely giddy about birthdays and celebrate with relish, planning weeks, even months, in advance. Around here the realization of an impending birthday usually dawns on us the week of. Whoops! This year we actually had planned a bit ahead and wanted to bring Jeran to Legoland, but it just didn't work out for James to get out of work early enough to make that a reality, so Jeran chose (surprise, surprise) the train restaurant as his celebratory venue. You know what though? Even though we've been there every year since he turned two, and even though it wasn't a huge event, we (and especially he) enjoyed it immensely. And isn't that what it's all about? (That and the presents, naturally.)

Choo choo! This year our good friend (and roomie for a brief time), Jess, got to join us too!

Grayson, our go-go-goer, doesn't show any signs of slowing down as he reaches the ripe old age of two. He talks, walks/runs, eats a mile a minute and therefore has no real problem keeping up with his bros. They're all pretty obsessed with being outside these days, not that I blame them. And they all remain buddies which I love to see.

School will soon be ending and with it, our routine, so my thoughts have started turning toward summer and what fun awaits us there. It's also a little unnerving for me, who loves a good routine, to realize that we'll be faced with somewhat unstructured days. But with our energetic, boisterous crew I see LOTS of fun times ahead.

On that note, however, I have to say that I finally feel like I'm at a place in my life where I have learned to enjoy one day at a time. I still need to work on really being present in each moment rather than jumping ahead or wishing certain moments to pass faster, but for the most part I find myself truly enjoying the day I have been given, recognizing (however morbid it may be) that I'm not guaranteed even my next breath. Awhile ago I was challenged (as is generally the case) by our pastor when he spoke about living in the margins. How often we live only for those moments of rest and relaxation in our lives: vacations, weekends, bedtimes. :) But even those not-so-restful moments, those moments that fill all the time in between the vacations, etc., the bulk of our time: am I living those to the fullest? While there's nothing wrong with times of rest and refreshment, am I ONLY living for those? There have absolutely been times (and still are) when I would answer yes to that. But I slowly feel I'm growing to a place where even the frustrating, exhausting, beat-me-to-a-pulp moments show me their value, and living in God's peace I can live those to the fullest too. It's a slow process. But I'm gettin' there.

Today was filled with many enjoyable moments: a picnic at the park with my kids, laughter, tons of hugs and kisses and snuggling, recognizing how faithful God is to meet my needs (even when I'm not always all that faithful), sunshine, cool breezes, accomplishment in work tasks... So you might say how easy it is to live fully in these moments. And that's certainly true. I'm soaking them up, basking in the easy joy, so that the Lord can refresh me for those moments when the joy doesn't come as easy.

So, that's what's going on in the life and head of us Louwerses. Hopefully spring fever is catching hold of you as well and enhancing the joy in your life.

Redundant

I know I've probably pretty much beat this topic to death with a stick here on the ol' blog, but it's a recurring issue in our household, and need I remind you that this is MY blog? I can write about what I want. (insert raspberry here)

The strong-willed child.

Jeran, someday if you are reading this (and if you are, I know that you are a balanced, well-rounded, perfectly capable adult and that you ADORE your mother) I would hate for your self-esteem to take a hit. Just know that as I tear my hair out over your behavior (I'm not bald in the future, am I?), it's in a loving manner.
This week has been epic. If scales were to be loaded up with moments of peace versus moments of war in this household, the scales would not only list viciously toward the latter, they would tilt then completely break off due to the weight of this week's battles. I'm really not exaggerating when I say that nearly every waking moment has been a verbal Ultimate Fighting Championship of Mom vs. J. For some reason Jeran has decided that it is well worth his while to have a fit/tantrum/nuclear meltdown over every. single. issue. What's for breakfast, leaving for school, how and when to put on his socks, what to watch/play and when. It goes on and on. And on. There have been tears (oh, so many tears - and not just his), so many raised voices, so many consequences/punishments, so many highly emotional reactions to said consequences/punishments. And I just find myself weary and confused. How have we escalated to this point? I felt like there was some headway being made toward maturity on his end regarding these issues, and then this week exploded into our lives like a firework gone wrong.
James (AKA: The Voice of Reason) has pointed out that I've been tightening the reins a bit where our oldest child is concerned. This is true. My eyes have really been opened to what I allow him to get away with, the areas where I back down when I should remain firm. So it seems only natural that he keeps pushing back to see if and when I'll break. However, there have been moments this week when I have not even recognized my own child, and the amount of emotion he has exhibited has been frightening in its intensity.
I am fully confident that God is with us on this journey and will lead us through to the other side. I know that James and I and Jeran will be stronger people because of it, and I hope that through it all we become more dependent on the Lord and closer to Him. But, let's face it, I also hope that tomorrow there are no fits/tantrums/nuclear meltdowns. I hope that I don't yell and despair but also that I don't give in. I hope that my child doesn't look back on these years and only remember a disciplining, unhappy, frustrated mom. I hope, I hope, I hope.
I have hope.