Blue Eyed Boy

I don’t know how it keeps happening, but we keep producing blue eyed boys. (and it appears Samuel’s eyes are going to be blue as well).

I admit that I’ve always kind of wanted one of our sons to be the spitting image of his father. Brown eyed. Brown haired. And drop dead gorgeous.

Okay, so my boys don’t need to be quite that good looking (I’m so not looking forward to fending off the females in the years to come!!) But still, I love the dark hair and dark eyes, and would love for my boys to follow after their daddy.

And they do.

In so many ways they are their fathers sons. The smiles. The expressions. The way they walk. Talk. Gesture.

But…

There are no brown eyes like their daddy’s here.

Oh goodness, aren’t his eyes just so blue?

 

*sure wish we’d wiped lunch off his face before snapping these beauties. Nuts.

Baby of the House

Noah has been the baby of the house for 2+ years now, and let me tell you, he loves his baby status. Loves it.

He loves climbing (and fitting!) on mommy and daddy’s laps. He loves snuggling and being held. He loves holding hands. And he LOVES asking for help with everything… even if it’s a skill or a task that he can accomplish on his own.

And of course, he’s so darn cute, and he’s only 2, and he’s THE BABY, we’ve let him get away with the extra neediness. But the reality of having another baby has hit us this past week. The pregnancy has flown by and my due date is coming up quickly. And our dear Noah is in for a shot of cold water, as the painful “dethroning” process will hit before we know it.

So we’re working at preparing him, gradually, and a little more each week.

We’ve done lots of little things the past few months… like making him walk and instead of being carried. Training him to sleep in a big boy bed instead of his crib (this was actually an effortless transition!!!!!! We can’t believe how well he did. I don’t think he EVER got out of bed, and still doesn’t get out of bed until I come open his door in the morning). Having him sit on his own (instead of on our laps) during church. Encouraging the older two boys to include him in their play (Noah is often left out, since he can’t build with small Legos etc)

We’ve also been working at different little skills. Taking off his own shoes and socks (yes, he “really” can’t do that on his own). Cleaning up his toys as part of the routine, instead of “only if the bigger brothers aren’t doing it fast enough.”

This past week, I started showing him lots of pictures of baby’s and pointing at my tummy and telling him that we’re having another baby soon. I show him pictures of his brothers as infants, pictures of other baby’s, pictures in books and magazines etc. And do you know what this little bugger says every time he sees a picture of a baby?

“That’s Noah!!!”

With as much delight and joy over seeing “himself” (not really himself, just a cute little swaddled bundle of baby in the pictures), as you can imagine.

Haha! This kid is so stinking smart he KNOWS he’s the baby. And oh my goodness, isn’t that cute? Just makes me want to coddle and cuddle him all the more. So anyway, pray for Noah, and pray for us, that we’ll help prepare him and ease the transition. And that he’ll love his new little brother and that it’ll be a happy occasion when “big” baby meets “little” baby.

Love My Hard Working Men

My kids are some of the hardest workers out there.

They see dirt and they know how to move it. They know how to transport it. They know how to dig it.

They don’t worry about getting their hands dirty. Or about the job being too tough. They just do it.

They know how to concentrate on the job. They stay focused and don’t get distracted.

They know about safety. And about hard hats. And about helmets are good substitutes. Even if they are much (much much) too small.

And they know how to work together. Most of the time.

Love my hard working men.

Can’t. Kiss. Him. Enough.

As I said. I love each one of my precious little sons.

And while there are many reasons I love my youngest son, I’d be remiss if I didn’t start by mentioning his cheeks.

Oh his sweet, round cute chubby little angelic little cheeks. I can’t. kiss. them. enough.

I love Noah for his little personality. I love how he talks in his own special way, often making attempts at deep manly voices, and changing things up with his high cheery greetings.

I love how he says Hello. It sounds like “Hey, Yo!” and all he needs is a snapping slap kind of greeting to go with it and he’d be down with the homeys. Love that. Love love love that about him.

I love that I’m his world. That he runs to me and shouts, “Mommy!!!” even if we’ve only been separated for a few moments. I love that he loves his Daddy too. And that his parents are his favorite people.

I love how he loves to read his train books. And that there is no possible way for me to be sitting on the floor without him plopping down on my lap with a book in hand.

I love that he’s learning how to pray and that his heart is being trained while it’s tender.

Thank you, Lord, for my baby. For my almost big boy. Thanks for my Noah.

Bedtime kisses

I was thinking last night, as I tucked the boys in bed, that bedtime kisses are such a precious way to end the day.

Often as we get ready for bed, I feel rushed and hurried, trying to get teeth brushed, clothes in the laundry and the last toys picked up before bowing our heads to pray together and sing a bedtime song.  I often feel an overwhelming desire to “just get them in bed already!!”

But you know, there is something about bedtime kisses that just makes the world stop.  The hurry, the rush, the fatigue… it stops.

And for a moment or two, or ten, we slow down. We breathe deep. And we enjoy those tender snuggles and kisses from our three little boys.

Isaiah likes to give 5 kisses and 5 hugs and likes to count them out as he gives them. It always makes me smile when I imagine him catching his breath and gasping for air in between kisses in order to shout: “One!” “Two!” “Three!” etc. My cheeks are always damp at the end… but its an endearing kind of dampness, the kind that fills me with happiness as I take in his warm breath and soft skin.

Joshua likes to give 2 kisses and 2 hugs. And he likes to divide the kisses between cheeks. He often grows distraught if he forgets to give each cheek an equal amount, and says things like, “Mommy!! I wanted to do two kisses on this side AND two kisses on that side so that they have the same ma‘mount.” And so we begin the kissing count down again, making sure each side receives the proper portion. I love being kissed so devotedly.

Noah is in on the act as well. He doesn’t count or measure his kisses, he just gives loud, wet smacks, and says “Mmmmmmah” as he does it. It’s so sweet it gives me shivers. Noah also makes sure to offer a few bedtime smackers to his brothers. He stands at the foot of the bunk-bed with arms stretched high, waiting to be lifted up to kiss his big brother on the top bunk. It melts my heart.

These bedtime kisses bring my day to such a precious close. I always leave the room, (as Nick sits down to read to them from a “chapter book” --currently the Chronicles of Narnia), with a smile on my kiss stained face.

Oh these boys and their sweet little kisses! Oh, may the day never come when they are too big to kiss their mama.

Or… too big for their mama to kiss them.

Because, I admit, I’m not the only one whose cheeks are covered in love. Truly, I cannot resist their round little cheeks, chubby little toes, and soft little hands and I smother my boys at least as many kisses as I receive.

Oh boy, I love it. And I’ll kiss them till the day I die.

God is good.

Just a Barrel Full of Laughs

Life is just a barrel full of laughs around here. Mostly. The boys are as carefree as ever, and their cheerfulness and childishness keeps me young. I hope we never forget these golden days of summer and afternoon “swims” like this one!!

Yes, these golden days of summer, and these imaginative playful little boys of mine. Oh my, they keep me busy and they fill my soul with sunshine.

I’ve really needed that sunshine lately too. We’re well into Day #15 and I’m suffering a major case of the dreary weary’s. (if you haven’t heard of the dreary weary’s, you should check this fun children’s book out from the library. Fun book.) Anyway, I’m pushing past them as best I can, praying and trusting in God for help, but I’m feeling pretty wiped out.

It’s hard to know how to handle the wiped out feeling. Stay busy so I don’t sit around and mope. Or sit around and mope… and drink Starbucks. So far, it’s been the former. And truth be told, I haven’t really had a choice. The whole staying busy bit doesn’t take any effort. This whole week we’ve had non-stop all day scheduled events/happenings.

Part of me just wishes I could just sit around and mope. But I’ve discovered that even my attempts at downtime in this single parenting/house running household of mine are nigh impossible. I opted out of our weekly play date, (which is typically considered downtime itself—time at the park with friends, lunch out, happy kids etc) so that I could just stay home for once this week… and sit around… doing another hour of school time with the boys, mowing the lawn, changing furnace filters, cleaning the kitchen, and making FRG phone calls. You know, sitting around type stuff. Noah knows all about it, don’t you, Honey?

But in my failed attempts at relaxation and my overwhelming dreary weariness, I’ve found myself meditating on 2 Corinthians 4:16-18.

“Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”

I have felt lately that I’m outwardly wasting away, that my body is weak and tired (despite getting good sleep and exercise), and that my troubles are anything but “light and momentary.” But this verse helps put things so wisely into perspective. An eternal perspective. This life is HARD. There are tests and trials on every corner. Keeping up with all the busy-ness of life and trying to do it all for God’s glory. It’s not easy, Baby! Even if the smiles on my kids faces might tell you otherwise. It’s draining. It takes a lot out of you.

But… it’s temporary. It’s but for a moment. And it’s achieving an eternal glory that far outweighs the trials, the work, the trouble, the effort. That far outweighs them all. What a beautiful promise and hope to those who are weary.

It’s such an encouragement, I might just go find a big blue bucket full of water and jump in myself.

 

*If you don’t hear from me for a while, it means I’m stuck in the bucket. Please help.

Before my very eyes

My “little” Noah is growing up before my very eyes. Each day it seems, he comes up with a new trick, a new word, and some sign of deepening cognitive development.

It’s such an exciting stage. And I love it.

The other day, I mentioned I needed to throw something away. Noah walked over, picked up the object, ran across the living room, into the kitchen, found the trash can, opened the lid, and popped it in. This kid can think! And this is more than following commands, this is actual discernment. At a one year olds level of course, but still. Smart kid.

Noah also found a cup in the bathroom and said, “Dink! Dink!” (drink) and then, holding my hand in his and the cup in the other, he led me into the kitchen, took me to the water dispenser in the fridge and repeated his brilliance “Dink! Dink!

So I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised when he pulled a fast one in the back yard the other day.

The boys and I were playing outside on the swings together. The older two lost interest (or maybe I stopped pushing them?) and began playing on the slide and the climbing rope. Noah wanted to join in too so I took him out of the swing. And then left them playing together in a group in the yard to run inside to make a picnic lunch.

I came back out and saw Isaiah and Josh still playing by the slide. And Noah? I couldn’t find him!! I quickly scanned the yard, and didn’t see him. I knew the backyard was fully fenced, so I wasn’t quite panicked… but still. I couldn’t find him.

But then… he found me. He spotted his Mama and shouted out a “Hey-yo!!” and then went back to work.

In my garden. With his backhoe and front end loader. That had been on the other side of the yard. I’ll tell ya, boys know their machines and they know where to find dirt. It doesn’t matter how old they are!!

Oh man, I love this kid!! He amazes me every day.

A doozy of a day

Yep it’s been a doozy

It’s my birthday today. I’ve been blessed with twenty nine years of wonderful life. And it’s been a great and wonderful and beautiful day.

Only it didn’t start that way. In fact, it started quite the opposite. Let me go back to this early (early early) this morning.

It’s 5am and I’m awakened by a piercing yell of my dear little Noah. At first I roll over and try to ignore. Wrapped up in a happy dream of beaches and waves on the shore. Maybe Nick will get up with him, I think. But then I realize that Nick’s not home. And not going to be home again for quite awhile. I feel sadness as the realization of his absence hits me. And even sadder as the yelling doesn’t stop for the room next door. And sadder still when I remember today is supposed to be a special day. It’s my birthday.

I stumble out of bed to check on Noah, soothe him back to sleep, and tip toe out of his room, just hoping that I’ll be able to catch a few more minutes of shut eye before my alarm goes off at 6.

But I can’t sleep. I want to, but I’m stuck in the tossing turning almost awake, but almost asleep state of unrestful rest. My one year old keeps squawking now and then too, so each time I drift off, I’m awoken again. Finally I just get up.

As Noah smacks away on his morning bottle, I pull out my bible and try to get a few moments of quiet devotion in before the other boys wake up. But I’m cranky now too. And struggling to be grateful and focused in my prayer and reading time. And before I really get anywhere with my reading, I hear the other two boys wake up and not two pleasant words were exchanged between them before the fighting began.

Sigh oh sigh sigh sigh.

It’s my birthday. Can’t we all just get along? And be happy all day?

Josh woke up on the wrong side of bed. He realized a toy wasn’t in his bed, and worse, he found it in Isaiah’s hands. Whining and fighting, followed by more fighting and whining. Josh cannot get it together. Every word from his mouth is filled with rebellion and contrariness. My sweet and tenderhearted boy struck with a case of Mr Grumpy’s. And the hardest part? Disciplining consistently and training kids to obey regardless of how they feel, to follow God’s commands whether we feel like it or not. Whether we miss daddy or not. Whether we got enough sleep or not. Whether we have the prized toy or not.

So while I’m dishing out discipline right and left, Noah is playing with my cell phone and calls far and distant friends in far and distant time zones, and I begin receiving worried phone calls from elderly friends and formers pastors, “I got 3 calls from your number early this morning, is every thing okay?? We’ve been worried”

Meanwhile, Isaiah dumps out several board games and all their pieces in his bed, and then while trying to recover a lost cherry from Hi-Ho-Cheerio, he rips a page of his favorite book and dissolved into traumatized tears.

And what do I do? Oh competent accomplished sophisticated mother that I am?

I just sit down on the floor and laugh. I laughed and laughed and laughed. The boys said, “Mom!?!?!? What are you laughing for?” and between guffaws and giggles, I say, “It’s either laughing or crying, Guys!!”

And it was. Cause oh boy, I could have cried up a storm. It’s my birthday and my husband just left. It’s my birthday and there’s no birthday greetings whispered in my ear first thing this morning. There are no birthday kisses left on my lips. And it’s Labor day, and there’s no special packages or cards or boxes waiting to be delivered by a mailman on a National holiday. No mail at all. No Fed Ex or UPS either. It’s my birthday, and my kids aren’t old enough to bake me a cake, or buy and wrap gifts. It’s my birthday. My 29th birthday.  My last birthday in my 20’s. Oh boy, it really really was LAUGH. Or CRY.

But I was able to laugh. God gave me the grace, the joy, the love, the patience… to laugh. To laugh at my boys. And life. And my situation. Oh and a merry heart makes good like medicine.

It was just what I needed too, because as we headed to the breakfast table, the meltdowns continued. Josh had to be excused from the table 3 times because he couldn’t keep it together (literally crying over spilled milk). I found myself waiting and wishing for Nick to call, knowing that he would try so hard to call on my birthday. Only to go grab my phone and realize that he had called. Twice.

AND MY SILLY PHONE WAS ON VIBRATE so I didn’t hear it and didn’t get it and totally missed my one opportunity to talk with my hubby.

Sigh. Major big-time. I shed a few tears over this one, I admit. Nuts!!

We finish breakfast and devotions and I load the dishes into the dishwasher, with my trusty Noah helper (and dishwasher unloader) by my side. And then I hear it. Gail's of glee from the back of the house. I head back to check on my boys, who had literally been left alone for 5 minutes, and find my bedroom door closed. Sigh.

I open the door to see two little naked boys jumping on my bed. “Where are your clothes?,” I ask. “We took them off, and put them in a pile, and then peed on them!!!” is the cheerful response.

And I laugh. I laugh so hard, so long, so purely and blissfully, I almost had to add my clothes to the pile of peed on laundry.

Oh what a morning. Not the birthday morning, I’d anticipated, but as my mom suggested, a very very memorable birthday in birthday history.

The rest of the day went (relatively) smoothly from there, and was filled with phonecalls and texts and emails and Facebook posts that delighted my heart all day. And as I was going down the grocery store aisles this afternoon, I wished out loud that Nick would be able to call again. No sooner had the words left my lips, when my phone rang. And it was Nick. And were able to talk for a few minutes before we hurried off to soccer practice.

Then tonight, a handful of girlfriends came over and cheered my spirits so completely, I can’t even express. We fellowshipped long and freely and enjoyably. And we ate birthday cake like crazy. I was showered with love and gifts and made to feel so special.

And here at the end of the day, I’m truly able to look back on the days events and praise God for every moment of it. And even more so, to remember the past twenty nine years that I’ve enjoyed and to say, God is good. The ups and downs, the joys and trials, the good, the bad, the ugly. God is good.

Faces

I’m browsing through recent pictures of Noah and found some that I just absolutely love.

But now I ask you…

…am I a mean old Mom that I truly can’t decide which picture I like best?

My dear, dear, Noah, every look on your face is precious to me.

Crawling

I came across these older pictures on my camera and nearly wept about how fast things change.

These are the very last pictures I have of Noah crawling.







Oh dear me, the crawling phase is such a precious precious phase of life. And it passes so quickly. For my crawler is a walker.

Thank you, Lord for my little boy, for his sturdy knees for crawling.

And his wobbly legs for walking. How I love this not-so-babyish baby of mine.

Pride

This past weekend, we were able to watch Nick perform his paratrooping skills again. Many of his jumps are at night, and many of them have follow-on missions, so we are not able to see him jump very often.

But when we are able to go… boy do we love it!. And I’m pretty sure Nick loves to jump for us. I don’t think I saw a frowning face from anyone that whole morning. Or if I did, I just chose to ignore them. Wink wink.

It’s hard to describe the feelings I have inside as I watch Nick jump. Fear. Anxiety. Joy. Patriotism. Amazement.

My breath always catches when I see the first paratrooper exit the plane… and I pray until I see the last one jump and all the parachutes open.

And just like the crew on chute detail, I’m thankful to count out the reserve parachutes… and to note that not a single one was needed.

But I think the biggest emotion that fills my heart is pride.

Huge, overwhelming, all-encompassing, pride.

My husband is a paratrooper and fearlessly jumps out of planes; ready and willing to serve our country at a moments notice.

Wow.

Guess I’m not the only one who thinks Daddy is amazing.

One Little, Two Little, Three Little Q-tips

Four little, five little, six little Q-tips…

Seven little, eight little, nine little Q-tips…

But just ONE little Q-tip boy!

 

And for the record, it was more than 10 little Q-tips. More like 750 of them.

Why do they make such big packages of  Q-tips anyway? Sigh. Being the frugal gal that I am, I shoved the Q-tips all back into the container despite the protests of my husband and insisted that we use them anyway.

What’s the big deal? I asked him. There’s nothing wrong with using wet, sucked on, lint covered Q-tips.

Things I love today

Today has been a wonderful productive busy day.

While I feel myself heaving a giant sigh of joy (and relief) now that I am at the end of it, I can’t help but feel amazingly blessed and contented at the blessings of the Lord.

To name a few…

Backyard swings and evidences of brotherly love. Oh boy, do these boys love each other… and the swings. Thank you, Father, for my boys.

 

Next, I would have to mention sunny warm days and cold sweet tea. Such sweet spring days and cool wet refreshment are gifts from God alone.

*As a random side note, I’ve discovered a few delicious sweet tea variations with a little fiddling around. Peach iced tea with a splash of peach juice (tastes like Snapple), raspberry iced tea with a shot of raspberry syrup and/or fresh raspberries, and, of course, peppermint iced tea with peppermint leaves (and/or peppermint schnapps!) So good.

 

Then comes the discounts and the flower beds. A bargain hunter like me would be remiss not to mention how joyful I was to see the 50% off sign on these perfectly good petunias. Perfectly good petunias. Nice. Can’t wait to get these puppies planted in pots around the deck.

And speaking of the deck…

 

I’m so thankful for Navajo Red Paint. Isn’t it gorgeous? It’s the accent color for the exterior of our home. I loved our house the very moment I first saw it… and loved it even more for the red door, red garages, and red shutters bursting with color. So pretty. The backyard deck is red too. And, as of this afternoon, it is all decked out (no pun intended) with a fresh coat of this deep dark paint.

If I’m honest, I’ll also mention that my hands, feet, and legs… as well as my boys extremities were covered with the paint earlier today too. What can I say? A girl can’t paint around here without some help from the boys. Apparently.

 

I also can’t help but say how thankful I am for a God who hears prayer and cares about even my little garden in the back yard. I seeded these amazing green beans (along with peas, cucumbers, peppers, tomatoes and a whole slew of herbs) 2 weeks ago. The weather has been warm for quite some time, and it was the perfect planting day. However… three days after I planted, we had a torrential rain storm. Inches of rain in just a few hours… and I found myself praying fervently that my garden would still grow. And would you believe it? It did. Every single plant that should have germinated by now, has. Wow! God is good.

 

Last, but certainly not least, I’m thankful for freckles. It appears that at least one of my little boys will take after his mother and don these adorable sun-kisses.

I know there were days in my childhood that I despised my freckles, but mostly, I just loved them. I loved how they’d start with a few here and there, and then slowly multiply, adding dimension and variety to my face. I did.  do. I love freckles. And I loved spotting them on Isaiah’s nose this afternoon.

 

Thank you, Lord, for your mercies that are new every morning. Thank you for giving me such joy in the little things. Great is Thy faithfulness.