Take your pick!

I think I've tried out a new recipe every day this week. That is either a miracle or a record - I'm not sure which.

Tonight was turkey breast (and it was delicious). JackJack devoured his, but suddenly was fussing with his teeth. I tried to see what was going on, but couldn't figure out the issue.
He looked at me and said firmly, "I need a pickle."

Me: A pickle?

JackJack (tone ascending): I need a pickle!

Me (bewildered): Why do you want a pickle?

JackJack: To quean my teef.

Me: To clean your teeth?

JackJack: Yes.

Me (in a burst of understanding): Do you mean a toothpick?

JackJack nods. Mommy hoots in laughter.

Daddy: I feel a blogpost coming on.

A Decade in Review

A Marriage Chronology:

Year One: Within two weeks of getting married, I fell headlong into depression... the "don't let her drive" kind of depression. Lasted a while. This is somewhat of a damper on those newlywed days.


Year Two: I was diagnosed with a melanoma the size of a quarter on my back. Emergency surgery. Patch of skin the size of a football taken out of my back. Melanoma caught .15 mm before it would have entered the blood stream. Moles continued to be removed, 10 or so a year, for the next 6 years.

Year Three: Big E. got the flu... and just never got better. Most nights, he would come home from work, curl up on the living room floor for an hour or so, trying not to moan too loudly. He would then attempt to eat and head to bed. Not the entertaining/event-attending/outdoorsy kind of deal I had prepared for. Rounds and rounds of doctors and bizarre medical tests ensued. Zero answers.

Year Four: I got pregnant. Internet bubble burst. Big E. lost his job, not once, not twice, but three times. He's still sick.

Year Five: Big E. got his 4th job in 8 months. Then Big E. got his appendix out. When the surgeon calls you in to review the path report, you know the news isn't good. And it wasn't. He had carcinoid tumors on his colon. A third of it had to come out as soon as possible.

His stay in the hospital for that surgery is another entire story, but let it suffice to say that I booked in every male relative and friend to stay with him round the clock after one particular "8th circle of hell" night that included pulling the emergency line. Twice.

I worked HIS job while he recovered... until my 20 week sonogram showed a potential tear in the placenta that put me on immediate bed rest for the rest of the pregnancy. Big E. limped in and out of work, still ill with flu-like symptoms as he recovered from major abdominal surgery.

Mermaid Princess was born, totally healthy. She screamed like an opera singer, with pressurized lungs. Unbelievably loud. And generally at 2 a.m.

Of course she's sleeping. It's broad daylight outside.

Year Six: Big E. was diagnosed as a celiac (hallelujah!). We got pregnant (okay, I was the official pregnant one, but Big E. had to handle all the hormones). Steady income. Sweet little townhouse. Six may be my new favorite number.

Year Seven: Flash arrived 16 months after Mermaid Princess, in April. Her hair finally grew in. We got better and better at the celiac thing. Another vintage year.


Year Eight: Pregnant again! So, with the new responsibility of three little lives, we made a series of sound decisions: We started a business. Bought a new house 2 hours from all parents and entire support network. Abandoned any pretense of income while we tried to get our business up and running.

JackJack arrived in December, two weeks before Mermaid Princess turned 3. We officially moved 4 days after he was born. I had an emergency appendectomy 3 days after that in a new town where we knew no one.


Year Nine: This is the most horrible and miraculous year of all. JackJack was so sick (see this post for details). I was barely making it through each day. Thank heavens Big E. was working from home... But the business news just got worse and worse at every turn.

But it was also this year that I understood for the first time that God wasn't a distant entity working out some complicated endgame in which I was a pawn, but that He is RIGHT HERE with me all the time. Eager to listen. And with stuff to tell me. That He never has and never will expect me to do it on my own, but rather that He loves nothing more than to be my hero and my all in all, my knight in shining armor... that He is very present, very real, and very personally active in everything to do with me. What a gift - and worth every moment of the price.

Year Ten: Business news didn't get better, but JackJack did. And through God's mercy and grace, I learned a little bit about having "joy in all circumstances." I also finally learned to be head over heels in love with being a wife and a mommy! Somewhere along the line, all the things I used to think of as "got-to's" suddenly became "get-to's"... even cooking. (I told you God has gotten really active in my life!)

The thing I most want to say: Honey, you have made these ten years a blast. That's a testament to your character and devotion as I read over the record of this decade. And I admit that I have never for one moment been bored.

I love it when you come home. I love to see you delight in the kids but never abandon your responsibility to discipline them. I love my children, but I am so thankful that you are the man I will spend my life with, for as much time as we've been granted. You make me laugh. You make me think. You honor my sacrifices. You thank me for my efforts. I KNOW you're not going anywhere. You know I'm not budging either.

It has been a delightful release this year to realize that life is not going to get easier, and we should stop waiting for a peaceful stretch. It's not a matter of life being stable or secure; it's a matter of how well-armed (and armored) we choose to be each and every day. And since I now know that life is a battle (but my team wins!), can I just say that there is no other warrior I would rather fight alongside than you?

Happy Anniversary, sweetheart! It's been a whirlwind decade and I wouldn't trade a year of it. No matter what the next decade brings, there's no one I'd rather face it with than you.

Sleeping Habits

Mermaid Princess has two identical duck lovies that she sleeps with. They are getting very velveteen rabbit-ed; the fleece is gone from their hats and their beaks are starting to fray. She has the oddest habit of stroking them and clicking her tongue to fall asleep. Woe be unto us the day they are lost or frayed beyond repair. She, of the three, is the most attached to her Duck-Ducks; she will run for them at the least sign of trouble and holds them near during the scary part of whatever books she's reading.



Flash has three identical frogs. Well, sort of. They are meant to be identical, but two have been chewed and shredded so that major surgery has been required to keep them in a semblance of the genus/species. The other, for some reason unfathomable to his father and me, has emerged completely unscathed. To fall asleep, Flash chews on the webbed foot of a frog and hums to himself. Loudly. So loudly that MP used to wear a noise-blocking headset to fall asleep when they shared a room. He really has no need of the frogs during the day and less and less at night these days. Hopefully, the humming stops too. I would hate to have to draw a serious girlfriend aside and give her fair warning.

"Daddy Nouille" (short for Grenouille)

MP in her Flash Headset Protection

Flash has another odd habit. He has the coolest handmade race car bed I have ever seen, given to us by friends. He has another sweet air mattress/sleeping bag sports bed on the floor. And where is he sleeping tonight? On the floor in the corner of this room. I just pray it's not some sort of training for eventually becoming a S.E.A.L. or Ranger.

JackJack has two identical bear lovies. I noticed a few months ago that the satin on on the paws was falling off, and attributed it to poor quality. Foolish mother! The other night, I went in to check on the kids, and found my youngest half awake, half asleep, and stroking only the satiny paw of his bear. No wonder they've been slowly disintegrating.

I'm blessed - not a pacifer-craver in the bunch. And we somehow avoided thumb-sucking too. Still, I do wonder if and when these habits will be outgrown... I know I had a bear that I took with me to college (the first year, anyway).

What was your childhood soother and when did you give it up?

Play 'n play

Today's title is JackJack's word for clay, as in "Mommy, can we do play 'n play today?" For my own record, I would like to note that he never says "play and play" without also doing the sign language for 'game'. Which now has me confused between the sign for game and play - which are really nothing alike.

Army tank, complete with crayon barrel

Thanks to my sweet friend, Heather P., who clued me into recovering my mealtime sanity. She introduced me to the 5pm art project... setting the kids up to do some sort of artistic creation while I finish up dinner. Kids are close by, occupied, and content. I'm not interfering in their creations as I have an infuriating tendency to do ("But what would happen if you put the boat here on the water instead of in the middle of all those cows?"). And boy, do they scramble to clean up the family room as a precursor to getting on their smocks.

Daddy and MP sitting under a palm tree

MP with her creation

For my part, once I'm in kitchen clean up mode, adding a couple of paintbrushes or some cookies cutters to the dishes ain't no big deal.

JackJack with his turtle. Good thing he told me what it is.

Kids having a blast, Mommy enjoying them as they show her each new brushstroke, and general joy in the kitchen at 5:30pm. Who'd've known? (Okay, besides Heather...)

Scrubby clean!

When Mermaid Princess turned 5, one of her new "big girl" rules was that she could no longer shower with Flash. At least two times a week, they STILL ask if they can shower together. And I say no. And they ask why. And after 100 queries, I STILL don't have a good answer; well, a good answer that I can tell them.

Cute when they're grubby; cute when they're clean. It's a good deal all around!

Halt... or I'll say halt again.

Rainy last week, so I rearranged the family room furniture so we could wrestle, play a little nerf b-ball and generally have space to get the wiggles out.

The sofas ended up becoming bunkers. Daddy had one; the big kids took the other. Wearing snorkel masks and using the snorkels as rifles, a raging battle ensued.

My favorite exchange:

Flash (jumping out from behind the sofa): Put your hands up!

Daddy, with great reluctance, raises arms all the way up.

Flash eyes him for a second.
Flash (takes aim, makes sound of 'gunshot'): Tszchoo!

Daddy: Hey! You can't do that! I put my arms up. I put myself in your protection. Start over.

Flash chews on his lip while processing this new bit of information and returns to his bunker.

Daddy (head popping up from behind sofa with an evil laugh): Aahh haaa haa haaa!

Flash (jumps out from behind the sofa): PUT YOUR HANDS DOWN!!!!

Perhaps not quite the right attitude for going into law enforcement.

"I've never loved you more"

Music to a girl's ears when they come from her best beau.

What can I say? I cancelled tonight's weekly planning session (logistics, finances, weekend action plan)...

At one point I remembered it was the start of the NFL season. Separately, I remembered that this is the wrap-up of the Republican Convention. For either of those, I would have made sure it was brief and let the man get to his remote.

But both the man's obsessions highlighted in a single evening???

No, no. We can reschedule.

We won't be watching any commercials tonight!

Words to the wise

Words that our children got wrong and we delight in so much, we've never had the heart or will to correct them:

Commercional (commercial)

Kamote (remote)

Black minnow (Black widow - as in spider, and that's a whole story by itself)

On this same theme, Flash is currently appearing at my side at random moments with a stuffed animal in hand, generally his lizard, and informing me of some heroic deed his lizard just completed.
Flash: Mommy, Lizard just jumped from the brown sofa to the orange sofa and rescued JackJack from the sharks.

Mommy (as I pick up Lizard and hold him up to my face in serious discussion): Lizard, I am so proud of you. First, for being brave. And secondly, for taking care of a Chambers Champion! Good job, Lizard.

Flash (reaching up to pet Lizard): Yea good job, Lizard! He's a brave lizard, isn't he, Mom?
Mommy: Yes, he is, honey. A brave lizard who wants to give you a kiss.

Flash (with implied eye roll): Noooo, Mommy. Mommy, Lizard is just pe-tend.

Mommy: Yup. Okay then.

Egg-cellent

In my childhood home, once every couple of weeks, we had Humpty Dumpty night. Mom would softboil some eggs, put them in eggcups and set us loose with the crayons to draw melted wax faces onto hot eggs. We would draw lovely ladies and brave young egg-men and then encourage them to have conversations ("Oh Monsieur, you look so very handsome this evening).

Once the egg people had taken their farewells, my mother would brandish her dinner knife guillotine as we all recited:

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall...
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall...

At which point, my lovely, gentle-spirited mother would chop off the top quarter of the egg in one smooth, decisive gesture, we would finish the rhyme -- complete with toast soldiers -- and we would dunk the strips of toast into the yolks for dinner.

And so the tradition continues. In a gluten-free version, of course.

The Blue Period

This is "Blue" by Any Warhol, one in a series of 25 cats of various colors.


This is our version of this painting:


Here is the artist alongside his handiwork:


When I was first pregnant, I read about a woman whose 4 year old colored the ENTIRE face of her two year old with black permanent marker the day before their Christmas pictures were supposed to be taken. That has helped to me to keep all instances of child-as-canvas art in perspective... this was washable marker (and pretty cute!).

D-A-D

I remember desperately wanting loads of black and white photos at our wedding, and one photographer I interviewed told me that if that was what I wanted, he wasn't the right photographer for the job... he couldn't bear to have a red-headed, blue-eyed bride shot all in black and white.

He didn't get the job, but I now know what he meant... I often sample the photos I take of the kids in black and white, but in the end, I can never enjoy them that way. God delivered three red-heads into our family, and all three have such unique eyes, so that I feel like they aren't even really my kids when they are in black and white.

These are the photos I took and will be presenting to Big E. for his birthday... I'm running a little late, but wait until I scan in the photos the kids did for him on their own! Totally makes up for my deliquency...

35 reasons I love you (not an exhaustive list)

To my sweet husband:

Happy birthday! I don't think I could ever thank God enough for giving me such a gift... but today, on your 35th birthday, I thought I'd tell you my top favorite 35 things about you. If I can't think of 35, then it will be 3.5 which isn't quite so catchy but I would make sure they were really GOOD 3 and half things...

1. You are my favorite playmate (note: that's a lowercase 'p').

2. You delight in all children, but especially in ours.

3. Your enthrallment with God's creation never ceases.

4. You just love people... all of them, in any walk of life. And not from a distance. Never have I known someone equally as compassionate for the wealthy as for the poor.

5. You are endlessly curious - about people, politics, sports, nature, science, technology. What a blessing for me and our family!

6. God comes first. And because of that, I never have to worry that your love for me will sway you to make a bad decision - even when I'm at my most persuasive.

7. Love for us comes next. Always has, and I know it always will. These last two years have been proof positive.


8. You are fierce in your convictions. More fierce than anyone but you and I really know.

9. You are loyal. Your deep friendships are few, but they are for life. What a wonderful example you have been to me, and are to our kids.

10. You have a heart for service balanced by your season of life. You long to serve in so many ways, but always carefully balance it against the needs of your family.

11. Although fully capable of playing "the game" of business, you choose unadorned integrity - refusing to manipulate people or back them into corners. You have chosen to operate in good faith, as a living testimony, every time. I take such comfort in that.

12. You have the coolest hazel/green eyes. Thanks for passing them on, too.

13. You love sports, but are not consumed with our kids being sports phenoms.

14. You love your parents. (I do too.)

15. And yet you understand that we are cleaved together.

16. You love my parents. Even on the days when you don't agree over much.

17. I am so thankful at the energy you put in to relating to each of the kids in their temperaments, instead of insisting that the kids figure out how to relate to you. It takes a lot of energy - and since you get one of them effortlessly, it makes it all the more amazing that you work so hard with the others.


18. You don't have a manipulative bone in your body. You say what you mean and are baffled with the concept of sub-text.

19. The Bible is endlessly interesting to you - and you love to hear what I've discovered too.

20. You love music. And will even put up with my affection for pop music.

21. I still am amazed at how cleverly God put us together - me with my plain old "in the box" systems and you with the ability to make anything work on the fly with only "out of the box" parts.

22. You put such effort into serving me even though speaking love through chores is completely foreign to you.

23. You can laugh at yourself better than anyone I know. So endlessly charming...

24. You can cook. Man, you can cook!

25. You work so hard to keep your physical challenges from affecting the kids... I probably know the most about it, and I think you keep a good part of it hidden even from me. It is a HUGE sacrifice and I am deeply appreciative.

26. You are going to heaven too! That would be a burden on my heart and instead it is such a delight.

27. Your feet are ticklish. The necessary equalizer in a wrestling match.

28. You are so NOT a border collie - but you don't fault me for being one. In fact, you try to provide me with as much working dog time as you can...

29. Mermaid Princess: that he works hard everyday so that we can be here doing fun things like school and crafts and painting.

30. Flash: that he does cool things with me like making catapults and rockets.

31. JackJack: riding on the tractor!


32. I love it that we like to read the same stuff. Well, except for Watership Down. And In The Neighborhood.

33. I love it that you have a wet sense of humor... working dogs blow right past dry senses of humor - we need a good splash of water with our humor to slow us down.

34. That you are committed to growing in your Christian walk... I know we will always grow closer together if we are both drawing nearer to God.

35. That after a decade of marriage and a lifetime of knowing each other, you are absolutely the one person I long for time with, love to share my thoughts with, and seek out in most every circumstance. I am so thankful for the years we've been given together and pray for many, many, many more.

Happy Birthday, sweetheart! I love you.

Victoire!

After a full morning of pictures for Daddy, reading, phonics and other sundry school items, we had a well deserved break and then met up again at the kitchen table to look at some math.

Mermaid Princess takes after her mother - she utterly refused help as she struggled to count out all the fingers for 7 + 2, then threw her pencil down in frustration when informed that the answer was not actually 11.

Finally, she allowed me to dig out a jar of pennies (which I had mentioned earlier, but had been firmly refused) and used them to count out her sets. Before she knew it, she had finished her worksheet, found the path through the maze, saved the day... and promply burst into tears because I wouldn't let her do another worksheet since lunch was ready.

Victorious at last
.

Why, oh why, do we hate asking for help, she and I? Why is rage so much better a feeling than dependence? Why is it so much easier to say "I can't do this" than to say "I think I need some help"?

Cary once said, "Why do we work so hard to teach our children independence? Independence isn't hard... the whole of human existence is a striving for independence. Choosing dependence, gracefully accepting dependence, even embracing dependence... now that's hard."

True for me, anyway.

First day

Wow!

Although we homeschooled last year, it was preschool homeschool and pretty low-key. We did a lot of reading, a lot of crafts and I threw in some language lessons during lunch.

This year, we are *serious* homeschoolers. Mermaid Princess is reading up a storm (a 224 page book in two days). Flash is hungry to read and even hungrier to figure out the decimal system. JackJack just wants to be in the mix.

Some highlights from today, our first day of the year:
Flash drawing a dinosaur shark. Mermaid Princess drawing a fairy out of the word "girl" (it's very cool). JackJack drawing a green puppy that only a mother could see the artistic genius in.

Flash picking up his reading right where we left off in May. Mermaid Princess reading her entire language arts book on the first day. JackJack snuggled on my lap for all of our reading time.

My favorite time was at lunch, when we listened to the soundtrack from The Little Mermaid while we ate. This was JackJack's request; JackJack is like his daddy and would have an iPod at age 2 if he knew what one was.

If perhaps your memory is vague, much of the music in Little Mermaid is, well, it's ominous. Like something nasty is swimming in the deep, dark ocean below (appropriate, of course)... After 3 minutes of orchestral music, I could see that everyone was getting a little nervy. So I asked them to tell me the instruments they could hear. (Flash rattled off 5 in 30 seconds. Mermaid Princess launched into a detailed story of what SHE thought the music meant).

No good. In another minute, JackJack started shaking in his chair, then looked at me with tears overflowing. "This is too scary. Mommy, I need SNUGGLE!!!!," his voice escalating.

He leapt from his chair to my lap and buried his face in my shoulder, foregoing the potato chips on his plate (this was fear, indeed!).

What is this curse that Big E. has married into? I react to ominous music the same way, as does my sister, my mother, my daughter... and now, his son. I pray that Flash retains some of his immunity, so that they may enjoy movies together for a lifetime.

How bad can it be, you think. Well, I wanted to show them a VeggieTales video today because it tied into our lesson on lighthouses. MP utterly refused, making elaborate plans to escape to her room instead of watching something so terrifying. I told her we would pass on Junior Asparagus if she could memorize a quatrain for me instead - she had that thing down in 2 minutes flat.

(My sister used to run behind the sofa when Cookie Monster came on during Sesame Street... it is somehow comforting to know that it's genetic, not just a failure of character. Big E. just about had to strap me down when we saw Monsters, Inc. in the theater - needless to say, movie-going is not an oft-chosen date night activity).

At any rate, today was a huge success. I had fairly low expectations - it is going to be a work in progress, figuring out scheduling and lesson plans and the balance between mommy-ing and teacher-ing. But we had a great time together and got back in the groove. Tomorrow we start our French lessons. Bonsoir, mes amis! A demain...

Cary and Clay - final update

It is with a heavy heart that I post today that Cary and Clay's baby has gone on to his forever home. The Cauthen family has gone out of town to mourn their loss privately. Please pray for all of them.

Summer days, drifting away

As summer draws to a close, we've been spending more time at home, just us. I didn't want the start of our school year to coincide with a sudden disappearance of all the friends we've played with all summer. This would not go over well (especially with Mermaid Princess).

Example of our summer social time with friends. These are the minnows preparing to get past yours truly, aka "The Shark."

This is one of those childhood games that seems like it should make sense, but somehow never executes. They were warned that the bungee cord 'parade' might not turn out quite as envisioned. We escaped without any scrapes or bruises, but just barely.

Tent day. This was a great success until the ants decided that this looked good to them too.

A friend made a conscious decision not to enroll her friends in much this summer, hoping to see creativity stimulated by boredom. I followed suit, more because of gas prices than any good parenting philosophy, but I have to admit, it worked. Our best days were the ones that they came up with outlandish ideas (let's create a luau for Daddy to come home to!) that we then set about trying to make happen.

Lesson noted.

I don't want to say lesson learned because I'm sure this one is going to need to smack me a couple more times before I truly get it.

Some random cuteness

Just realized today that Flash has been calling it "sunscream" all summer.

JackJack saying, "I nunno," "I told ya," and "Come ON, Mommy!" in the most charming, happy-go-lucky voice.

Watching Mermaid Princess really, really read. We've blown through books with pictures and are now into early readers. And writing to the authors when we finish.

A friend gave JackJack a blue pawprint magnet. As any parent of a two year old will know, this means that JackJack is now an official Blues Clues executive producer. He has taken to carrying around a little notebook with a pencil all the time so he can draw his clues.

JackJack's colleague over at Blues Clues HQ.

August 6?? What the...

Wow, three weeks since the last post. Astute friends (ahem, Katie A.) always email me when I haven't posted for a while because it usually means something's up.

And indeed, so it has been.

It's no wonder Jesus only gathered 12 people around him; if you're going to give your friends your heart, twelve is about all it's possible to keep up with. And Jesus, of course, was perfect, so I'm giving myself, maybe, 8. Maybe not even.

Major surgeries, major diagnoses, major decisions, major moves, major turmoil. And all of it affecting kids.

I have fallen on the sofa each night after getting my own little guys to bed, thinking, "I really need to blog." But I just didn't know where the words were going to come from. Or the energy. (Or the photos, since I left my camera out in the rain.)

I think I'm back in the saddle now. I've almost emptied my email inbox. The house is getting reassembled. The yard is looking decent. I'm getting to bed at a good time (usually) and actually sleeping. And the camera miraculously healed itself (crazy, huh?). AND it kept all my old photos, so I can catch you up-to-date with the kids' antics.

For those who checked in - thank you. For those who have need the checking in on, I'll be calling tomorrow.

A Day

It's been a day. Every mommy knows these kinds of day...

All three kids needed naps. They knew they needed naps. They headed happily up to their beds. And yet, it became very apparent after 45 minutes that no one was actually going to sleep. Up we got. Bickering began immediately.

So, while I went out to water the tomato plant...

JackJack slipped upstairs and by the time I found him, he had pulled a stool up and gotten down 2 different bottles of shampoo which were rapidly sluiced across the floor, the stool, and JackJack's hair.

So then...

After getting him showered off and into pajamas, I started dinner. This time, he slipped out the back door without me noticing. I was only aware of his disappearance when Mermaid Princess came running in to tell me that JackJack had dismantled the only healthy tomato on our plant... the one plant I have truly tended to all summer.

So then...
I started working on tomorrow night's menu only to realize we really are short on just about everything and are going to have to do a grocery run whether we want to or not...

But none of this topped being at the dollar store after Vacation Bible School early this afternoon with three exhausted, hungry kids, one of whom was determined to make a plea for every bag of candy, one of whom was determined the race the cart through the narrow aisles (end caps be darned!), and one who wanted to try out every single thing that looked remotely like it could be a cell phone. Within 10 minutes, my patience was wearing VERY thin. Still, I wondered at the strange looks I was getting, as my mommy voice grew increasing tense and tight.

It wasn't that I got home that I realized I was still wearing my Bible School shirt. It's flame orange and very clearly not the kind of t-shirt that could be mistaken for something from Old Navy. Part of me wanted to laugh and part of me was ready to burst into tears.

I'm settling for going to bed very, very early. G'night.

Joy of an Evening

So, one of the things I've really learned in these, my thirties, is that the brief times of pure joy we're given are to be cherished, not taken for granted.

Pure joy moments with kids are truly brief - they shine incandescently bright and then come to abrupt end when the sticky fingers are rubbed on your just washed hair, or someone knocks over the cup of juice, or a ball comes flying out of nowhere and clocks the baby in the noggin. They are, of course, the shining moments that make it ALL worth it, but they are generally quite short. (Hence the blog, where at least a few of them can live forever.)

But whole evenings of joy? Oh, so rare.

Melissa, Heather, Heather, Becky, Cary, me, Cindy

A group of friends surprised me with a dinner out for my birthday. I thought I was going to dinner with two friends and just about fell over (and burst into tears) when it turned out to be a whole table of friends, with more dropping in, and even more who couldn't be there and sent cards.

We stayed up late (very late)... even as we headed out to the parking lot, we lingered. Who knows when such joy will strike again?

Thank you to Melissa and Becky who organized it, to Cary, Heather, Cindy, Heather, and Andy for coming. Thank you to Chad, who had the restaurant staff take perfect care of us (at Wild Wing Cafe if anyone is looking for a wonderful night out!).

I feel wealthy beyond imagining. Traveling through this world can make for rough passage, but how comforting that the journey doesn't have to be a solo effort.

Band of... okay, Duet of Brothers

Why can't we all just get along?

After months of praying that the boys would start to become friends... just perhaps more than tolerate each other in the same room... we've had an about face.

Today, after our first day of Vacation Bible School:

Mommy: Flash, who should we go get first? Mermaid Princess or JackJack?

Flash: JackJack.


Mommy (a little confused): No, who should we go get first?

Flash: Mommy, let's get JackJack.

(We go get JackJack, with great grins and giggles).

Mommy: Okay, JackJack, let's go get Mermaid Princess.

JackJack: Don't want M'maid Pincess.

Mommy: Sweetheart, we need to go get our girl.

JackJack: (in rapidly escalating pitch): Don't WANT M'maid Pincess.

on a happier day

What in the world??? And I know everyone says the middle kid always has to put up with the most, but from my vantage point, it seems like he has it made. He ALWAYS has a playmate, while the other two each have to wait turns for his attention. Ironically, he is also the one who would probably be happiest by himself.

Cary and Clay: Update 1

Cary and Clay had another ultrasound this week. Not much news to report - the baby has grown bigger and the tumor has too -- in proportion. The "wait and see" continues.

The geneticist proposed that they head to Children's Hospital in D.C. for a fetal MRI to gather more information, both on the tumor they know is there and to see if any other tumors may be forming on other organs that the ultrasound just can't see. The MRI is scheduled for July 25th.

In the meantime, this incredible family has decided that given the choice to dwell on the disease or the baby, they are going to choose to focus on the baby. That means thinking about names, planning the nursery, and smiling instead of flinching when strangers ask about the pregnancy.

I stand amazed. I was with Cary tonight and saw her graciously accept queries and compliments about the little boy she's carrying without the least shadow of fear or despair traveling across her face. This is faith in action - to trust that the Lord knows what He's up to when none of it makes sense from our perspective.

For those who are wondering how to pray, here are the potential outcomes for this tumor:
1. It may be the kind of tumor that will simply disappear sometime in the baby's first two years of life.

2. It may be a tumor that will continue to grow and at some point interfere with the functioning of the heart, at which point surgery will be needed.

3. It may be the first in a series of tumors from Tuberous Sclerosis.

4. The whole thing could go away in a modern day miracle... or maybe just a good old-fashioned one.

Pray for peace and strength as they walk through each day with this dark cloud trying to take over their thoughts. Pray for increasing delight in the pregnancy and in the life growing there. And pray for healing, as only God can do.

Today I have learned that it IS possible, no matter how trying the circumstances, how great the obstacles, how dire the straits, to refuse to wallow in the ugliness. If I can keep my focus on my blessings, no matter how much those around me are yelling about my difficulties, I can be content. I have seen it done; I pray I strive to do no less.

Kids and Creeks

What is it about creeks? Why are they so charming?
Why does icy cold water seem purer than any other kind?

Big E. and I both had a creek (the same one, actually) near us growing up. When we first looked at our current home, Big E. suddenly tore off into the woods as we toured the back yard. It was ten minutes before he re-emerged with the triumphant shout, "There's a creek back there!"

At that moment, I knew we were putting a bid in on this house.

These shots are not from our creek. Our town has loads of them, so we were exploring a new spot on this day.

It was so cold, so very cold in the water. JackJack would not be deterred from throwing rocks and fishing with sticks. I think he wallowed in the deepest spot for 20 minutes or more.

Flash's sharp eyes also found this caterpillar:

JackJack was petting our new friend rather vigorously. It is perhaps not a surprise that our 'pillar was nowhere to be seen on our return hike.

The Fast Right Hook

My friend, Lauren, looks at me sometimes and says, "Life is just rude." (Lauren knows whereof she speaks: check out her blog to see what I mean.) She is so right. We are going along our merry way, thinking we have some semblance of control over what the days will hold, when suddenly, a fast right hook catches us unawares and knocks "life as we know it" right out the window.

Meet Cary. Cary and I went to college together and then ran into each other "by chance" when we both joined the local MOPS group a decade later.

The little girl is her daughter, Mary Brooks. Isn't she cute?

Somehow, they seem like an old married couple here.

She is so determined to keep up with the big kids.

This is her son. Harrison is 4, and he and Flash just get each other.

It was a little foolish of us to expect two 4 year old boys
to respect the stillness of nature.

Geronimo!

As you might be able to see from the first picture, Cary is pregnant. 14 days ago, during the routine ultrasound, she and her husband, Clay, received terrifying news. Little Baby Boy (LBB) has a tumor on his heart. It is not obstructing blood flow in any way, but let us agree that this is not the news a mother is expecting when she went in to find out whether the nursery should be pink or blue.

The news did not improve. Clay and Cary were sat down to have it gently explained to them that there is a good chance that this tumor is indicative of a disease called Tuberous Sclerosis. This is a genetic disease in which hard, encapsulated tumors grow all the body, both inside and out - on the brain, lungs, heart, kidneys, and especially on the eyes and skin. As you can imagine (but wouldn't want to), those tumors then cause a host of other developmental issues, potentially including mental retardation, autism, seizures, etc. There is no known cure -- each tumor is handled as an individual case.

I am posting all of this because - well, because Cary and Clay could use our prayers. Because life is rude and sharing the brunt of the rudeness can make the load a little easier to carry. Because it's so easy to get caught up in the silly daily bickering and fussing at one another and to forget that tomorrow is not promised. Because Cary flows between waves of grief and complete peace and because it has been a privilege to see her life marked by God's grace in the midst of this living nightmare.

I will be posting the news of their journey with Little Baby Boy as it unfolds. Pray for healing. Pray for mercy. Pray for peace. Pray for strength. Pray for grace. And don't let small things fool you into thinking they are big things. A fast right hook might be in the near future.