Flowers

Sweet Josiah.

I was trying to fix dinner and you kept arriving at the door.

To give me beautiful flowers that you picked just for me. Sometimes one at a time and sometimes by your little handful.

What joy it was to put down the task at hand, see your sweet face at the door, and receive from you...

preciousness.

We all know those weren't really flowers in the true horticultural sense. But they were beautiful to you, so they became beautiful to me.

Thank you, baby.

The Birthday of One, and the Birth of Another

I can't believe it's been over three months since I last blogged. I've got so much to catch up on!

Before I do, I want to share yesterday. It was Josiah's birthday. The big 0-4, and I bought you a Transformer that none of us can figure out how to transform (we need a 10 year old to help us), a board game with lots of pieces (apparently I blanked out when buying this for you...one piece is already in the vacuum), and this awesome hat. You thought it was great, too...for about 7 minutes. Whether you like it or not I'm making you wear it for every birthday until you're 37. It will be a tradition that you make fun of me for when you're older. And I'm OK with that.

Papa and Nana took you out to McDonalds, bought you a Diego card that sings--loudly--, and gave you a karate outfit for "Hiking Buddy," which is what you really wanted. You and big brother are currently using the different colored belts to arrest your bears and blindfold them. And, by the way, you claim that you can already jump higher and run faster than when you were merely three.

I marveled at how much has changed, and yet stayed the same since last year this time. As usual, orange sweet rolls were still a big hit. But there was something definitely different about this year: a new brother, who doesn't seem so new at this point. It's like we've always had the little guy. I can't remember what it was like without him a year ago.

Daddy went to work at 2pm, leaving me to fend by myself. I had a really bad afternoon. Gideon was really grumpy and tired and wouldn't nap, you kids were fighting, I was trying to make dinner, was getting phone calls for your birthday and about Aunt Paula being admitted into the hospital, trying to make chocolate chip cookies that I promised for Awana tonight, had alfredo sauce boiling over, Levi fell off a chair sending both him and Gideon into tears, etc. It was literally so bad that I gathered the three of you up and I prayed.

We sat down to dinner and the whining started, I had to cut everyone's food, Gideon was miserable and teething, and you spilled your water (of course). Still putting cookies in the oven, answering phone calls....

And then Levi, you told Josiah, "You need to get saved." Daddy and I had been praying for you to get saved and here you were "preaching" salvation to your brother. That brought up a conversation about your own salvation.

Long story short: in the middle of mayhem, God saved you, and I had the greatest privilege in the world to lead you. It's amazing how God's still voice pierced through the chaos of the day. As Nana said (and I agree), Satan was doing his best to not let it happen, but God prevailed. He spoke to your little heart despite the mayhem that was happening at the same time.

You were so excited, you had no trouble telling everyone you could think to tell, even speaking into the microphone in front of the choir to tell them too. You had always been too shy to speak into it before, but you were bold that night. When I asked you if I could share with the choir the good news, you asked me if you could do it yourself. I hope you remember the sound of all the saints in that room that rejoiced with you that moment. Today you asked me to read from the Bible about salvation. I read to you John 3:14-17 and you said, "I did that!" Sweet boy, happy spiritual birthday to you.

It was a happy happy day, indeed.

One Day...

One day I will not have to navigate around Rescue Heroes, Legos, Tinker Toys, cars, and trucks to arrive at my seat on the couch

And I won't have to put furniture to cover bad paint touch up jobs that are covering the wayward crayon marks

Or glass missing from my new furniture from another little boy's elbow during a spinning marathon

And I'll have equipment that hasn't been sliced by a little boy with an Indian arrowhead that Nana and Papa gave him

And lamps, fully intact.

But today is not that day.

And for that, I am grateful.

Slaps

The game of slaps...it must be a rite of passage for every little boy.

Here's Josiah and Daddy. Daddy's gonna take it easy on my runt; he's three after all.

And he loves this game; he usually just spins his arms around wildly so he won't get the big slap, but Daddy always gets him anyway.

Then there's Levi.

The kid-who-likes-no-pain inexplicably loves this game.

He laughs so hard he can hardly stand up.

And then goes back for more.

Most of the fun is in the anticipation....

Ha! Daddy missed that time!

And then he got ya!

Hey, Taterbug! What do you think of all this?

Emotional

My middle child...he's a mix of emotions, and there's no doubting what the kid is feeling. Here he is having fun, life is good, and he's hanging out with his brother and little friend. As you can see, he's "number one!"

And here's twenty seconds later...eyes squinted, arms crossed, lips pooched.

I can't remember what happened but it must have been serious.

After all, just look at this face.

It was a very sad and stressful 63 seconds.

Eight Years

It's hard to believe that tomorrow, on the 28th, we will have been married for eight years.

Time has flown by and the busyness has kept this freight train moving along at a pace I'd never imagined.

I guess graduate school, police academy, one, two and three babies, four different addresses, building a home, burying loved ones, and changing careers tend to do that. I keep waiting for that time when all will be on auto pilot. Where I wake up refreshed and no one has peed in the bed, everyone's slept through the night, no one's feverish or grumpy, there are no errands to run and messes to clean, and where the two of us have nothing to do but be.

That hasn't happened yet...well, at least not on two consecutive days. Maybe we'll find it in the next eight years.

Until then, I'm hanging tight onto you, Brian. Fast rides scare me.

Itty Bitty is Six Months Old

Hey, ittybittybubba...you're six months old now! I took pictures of you today as you are nearing your seven month birthday. It was overcast and we had a horrible thunderstorm last night where I had to sleep in Josiah's room to keep him calm. Poor little fella kept covering his ears with his hands and whimpering every time he heard the thunder.

But today is calm and peaceful, and the ground is covered with what we've needed: rain!

And I needed to get this photo shoot done. You were such a wiggly little thing and had no interest in being my muse. You tried to crawl away...

you tried to shimmy off the window seat...

you rolled around until I had to call reinforcements: Daddy, Levi and Josiah.

But we managed to capture you, little man.

See? Here you are upside-down right before you tried to roll over again and I got those sweet baby blues on film.

I love your little nose as it starts to curl up; you're really happy when you're curling that nose up.

I hope you like these when you get older.

I hope you realize how much you are loved.

And how this face makes my day.

And that I love these hands; did you know you rub your eyes with the back of them when you drink your bottle? I get to kiss your palms when you do that.

And that these feet are perfectly chubby.

And that your daddy loves you in all your unplanned perfection.

And that you and Levi of you have a bond beyond words already. Boy, does your big brother love you and can make you laugh at the drop of a hat.

Yep, you're surrounded by love. There's no escaping now.

There is a reason we named you Gideon. In the Bible he was the "least" of his father's household, but the mightiest.

You may be the youngest in this household, but we've ended on a high note.