My Preschooler

Very likely those of you reading this are also my Facebook friends and have already feasted your eyes upon the display of cuteness below. Tough noogies. You will gaze upon the cuteness of my Benj (and other boys as well) once again:

This child spent the better part of his summer making sure I was WELL aware of the fact that he was not going to school come fall. "I'm just gonna stay home with you, Mom." Well.

It's true that he tends to be more of my homebody. (He's also the child that favors sleeping in, therefore, he is my favorite. **) He is also generally less of a "jumper-inner", more cautious when it comes to new situations and experiences. He continues to be the laid back member of the tribe.

Fast forward to the first day of Jeran's year. In a show of brotherly solidarity, Ben donned his backpack for the walk to school and upon seeing his older bro and classmates enthusiastically enter the building immediately decided that this school thing was ok. What followed were two weeks of impatience and inquiries as to why he was not also going to "my-school-with-my-teachers-Miss-Marilyn-and-Miss-Judith". And then we found ourselves at day one. In some ways my experience in bringing Ben to his first day of school was the same as with Jeran. Eager, anxious, excited, sad. But as we've gotten into the swing of school I've noticed there are differences too. I've found (mostly because he is a much more forthcoming fountain of information, and Jeran tends to be one-worded in his approach to detailing the day) that I don't pummel him for information, don't obsess about what he's doing and how he's behaving, etc. I grew comfortable about Ben being a school kid much quicker than I did when it was Jeran's turn. I think it has everything to do with their difference in temperament and personality. I don't generally worry about Ben and how he's handling things once he's settled in. Anyhoo. That's two boys in school - count em, TWO! Next year, by the grace of the potty gods, Grayson will join them. Wahoo!! And...sigh.

**I DON'T HAVE A FAVORITE. Get serious.

My First Grader

Do not be fooled by the boy's expression. While to me he looks a tad apprehensive in this photo, he felt nothing of the sort on his first day of first grade yesterday. It's true there were many proclamations this summer of, "I just want kindergarten to start over!", and when people would ask him if he was excited to start first grade they got an answer filled with nothing short of dread. But this all changed after I bought his school supplies, and he and his dad delivered them to his classroom earlier this week. Seeing his desk, meeting his teacher, discovering at least one friend was in the mix with him - these all ratcheted up the excitement. He didn't even look back yesterday as he entered the building.

I'm not really surprised by all this. I know my boy. He's like me: new things and change are always scary at first, but once we get warmed up, boy, we are IN! What I am a tad surprised by is my reaction to this whole business, particularly today as he's at his first FULL day of being away from me. He gets to experience all kinds of great new things like eating his lunch in the cafeteria and art class and making new friends. And I want all of those things for him. And, quite frankly, I want this level of peace and quiet for myself. Because there have been ZERO fights this morning (not that that will last forever, I know), and this afternoon I get 2-3 hours of blissful silence. But I still feel kind of lost with JJ gone. It's hard for me not to get to watch him experience all these firsts, only to get a second-hand, less-detailed-than-I'd-like account of his day. I want him to continue to grow. I welcome it. But it's harder than I expected to release him to the world in order to do this.
So I pray. And decide to just be unproductive today, so we can adjust to this new routine. And try not to think about how I'm going to feel in two weeks when Ben starts preschool.

July? Are you there??

I could swear that I JUST flipped my handy-dandy Berghoef family calendar over to July. Suddenly August is all up in my grill, and I'm thinking about things like school starting up again and fall approaching (followed all too quickly by winter. I think we're well aware of my dread of the Old Man and his snowy sabatoge). However, you don't need me nay-saying all over your computer, so I'll focus on more positive aspects of Louwerse life.
It has been a great summer overall. It's been glorious to be out from under the pressure of a schedule and to just enjoy sunshine, swimming, time with friends, indulging our ice cream cravings, firing up the grill. We didn't take any major vacations this summer. Certainly nothing akin to our road trip last year.But that's ok. Regular life is busy enough, so we just didn't complicate it with more places to go, things to see. We've been enjoying getting to know our neighbors and our town a little better, discovering places that before were hidden to us.
As summer does, indeed, wind down, we've been blessed to celebrate some milestone anniversaries in our family. (Side note: this was year 13 for us, and I'll be darned if I didn't try insisting to my husband it was 12. That doesn't speak well for the state of my brain cells. They do grow back, right?) Last weekend my grandparents celebrated 65 years of marriage. We had an awesome time of gathering as a family, reminiscing, capturing the moment via photograph, etc. And of course, stuffing our faces. Because no party (particularly a Dutch one) is complete without a buffet. A darn good one, at that. It's been about two years or so since I can remember my mom's whole side of the family being together like that, and it was really cool just to catch up with everyone and to revel in the blessed heritage we have received from the Gp's.
The boys and I are currently back in MI for a bit of an extended visit, as has become somewhat of our tradition the last few summers. The primary reason for our trek to this side of the lake is to celebrate my mom and dad-in-law's 50th (FIFTIETH!) anniversary this weekend. In this day and age, it's no easy feat to accomplish the Big Gold. And they have reached it with flying colors. Can't wait to be together with family and reflect upon their years together. I am truly blessed to have married into this fantastic group of people that I love and respect so much. Anyway, stay tuned for details on all that fun.
While I try to hang onto my last shreds of sanity whilst awaiting the start-up of school, I fully intend to enjoy these last days of summer freedom with my boys. I hope the same can be said for you. (The enjoyment of summer, not the shreds of sanity part.)

Summertime, summertime, sum-sum-summertime

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.