An Important Time In Every Child's Life

Today, as the kids and I were outside trying to determine if our garden is sprouting anything other than weeds, I heard the familiar chimes of the ice cream man. And, like any kid-at-heart would do, I went running.

Growing up in Cleveland, we heard a lot of the ice cream man. In Old Brooklyn, the section of Cleveland where I grew up, the streets are narrow and grid-like, packed full of tiny post-war era houses, and sounds carry with ease. Ice cream truck music ("Do your ears hang low/Do they wobble to and fro/Can you tie them in a knot/Can you tie them in a bow...") was largely the soundtrack to my childhood. I grew up on a main street, though, where ice cream trucks won't stop for you no matter how desperate you look. So if we wanted to partake, we had to grab money (often kept strategically near the door) and sprint around the block to the side streets. But, oh, the orange push-ups that awaited at the end of the jog, with their cool polka dot tubes and plastic sticks. And oh, the bomb pops. And the sno-cones. And the memories.

Fast forward to my college years, when my dear friend Stephanie moved to Chicago for a summer to drive an ice cream truck. I went to visit her on the weekend of my 21st birthday and spent a day riding around with her. I was in heaven, except for the incessant plinking of the ice cream tunes, whose repetitive melodies lodged themselves in my head for weeks. I reorganized the freezer. I listened to the order and tried to gather the goodies as quickly as I could. I marveled at the newfangled novelties: Choco Tacos. Lemon Sharks. Chipwiches. Stephanie knew all the best places to go; namely, places populated densely with people, places like apartment complexes and baseball fields. Side streets aren't super profitable--to much area to cover, not enough patrons. Sidelines at soccer games, on the other hand, with their throngs of indulgent parents and hungry kids, are perfect. I loved riding in that truck with her--I felt like I was looking behind the curtain at the Wizard of Oz, and it wasn't just some short guy in a costume. It was an actual Wizard.

These days, we live on 2.5 acres, on a road that is not a part of a neighborhood. I never even considered it a possibility that the ice cream man might venture our way. We've lived here almost 6 years, and I don't think I've ever heard an ice cream truck before. So today, when I heard the gentle strains of the music, I grabbed money and ran for the street, yelling for my kids to COME HERE! FAST!! HURRY!!! Who knows when this opportunity might present itself again? And I have such fond memories of the ice cream truck, I wanted to give my kids those memories, too.

While we had a long talk about how it is inappropriate to run towards the street unless mom is telling you to do it, we tucked into our frozen treats. We each selected sno-cones. They were $2.50 EACH. I then explained to the kids this was a once-in-a-great-while treat, on account of the second mortgage we'd have to get to pay for our FROZEN WATER. On a side note, the man driving the truck had to use a calculator to total our tab ($2.50 x 3) AND ALSO to make change from the $10 I gave him. I'm no math whiz myself, but that's pretty bad.

Anyway. I didn't have the forethought to grab my camera along with the cash in my dash for the street, but I did capture these photos shortly thereafter. Duly documented.



Mmmmm. Memories like this taste good.

Is It Too Much to Ask, Really?

Is a good family picture too much to ask?

Apparently so.

Congratulations to Shaun and Emily! What a lovely wedding. Thanks for making my husband wear a tux! And kids, when you look back on these pictures, just remember: WE TRIED.

Hold Me Closer, Tiny Dancer

Today, I've been in the kitchen finishing up my baking duties for Shaun and Emily's wedding tomorrow. Yesterday, I did three loaves of Pumpkin bread, early this morning, I did two loaves of Zucchini bread, and I just put a Lemon Pound Cake into the oven. Let me just say that the Lemon thing had better come out tasty, because that sucker was what I like to call LABOR INTENSIVE. Jeesh. Zest the lemons. Rub the zest into the caster sugar. Supreme the lemons. Soak the eggs in hot water for 10 minutes (really?). Anywho, to keep at least one of the kids from getting underfoot, I put in Barbie: 12 Dancing Princesses. Charis was enraptured.

She was enraptured mostly because she so badly wants to take ballet lessons. Last week, I took her to a pre-ballet dance recital to gauge her interest, and it turns out her interest is high. Two highlights for me were: A) When two groups of the youngest girls filed onstage and promptly got confused. Charis noticed that they were all mixed up, and spoke up about it: "MAMA, THOSE GIRLS HAVE GOT TO STAY WITH THEIR TEAMS!" You probably can't tell we're more about team sports than ballet at our house. B) When the littlest girls were doing the "Circle Dance." The voice in the song would tell them "circle right," and "circle left," and those instructions had no bearing whatsoever on which directions the girls circled. I CANNOT wait until Charis is a part of this.

Anyway, when I came into the living room to check up on her midway through the ARDUOUS CAKE PROCESS, I caught her gracefully twirling and spinning (are those the same things?). I reached for my camera, but she got shy all of a sudden (Charis? Shy?) and wouldn't let me. So this fall, she'll be joining other 5-year-olds in learning how to circle left and stay with their teams. Should make for some good video! Hopefully, she'll let me take pictures of her then in her frilly "uniform."

(Ballet. What has my life come to?)

The Ruby Belle Diet

This has been the week of the Pediatrician--we had both Ruby's (better late than never) 9-month well-baby appointment and Charis' getting-ready-for-Kindergarten appointment. Charis' appointment was fairly uneventful. Her hearing is fine, her vision is fine, she didn't appreciate getting the shots, and apart from the fact that she was traumatized by the idea of having to pee in a cup (and, I guess, by the shots themselves), it was a relatively painless appointment. She got free markers, bubbles, animal crackers, and a juice box. And a book! She pretty much wants to go back tomorrow.

Ruby also had shots (not a fan), and developmentally, she's right on track. She even got bonus points for her aptitude with the M sound, and her plugged tear duct is a thing of the past. Way to go, Roo! However, while she has been gaining weight, her weight percentile has been declining. This puzzled me--the girl eats like a horse. Seriously, people are shocked at the amount of food she can fit in her little belly. But the kicker is that I've apparently been feeding her food that is too "healthy." Poor girl isn't getting enough fat and calories. Her deadbeat mom gives her too many veggies. Now, wouldn't that be the best doctor's appointment ever?

"Well, ma'am, your health looks fine. But I'm a little concerned about your weight."

"My weight?"

"Yes. It's far too low. You don't have nearly enough fat and calories in your diet. I'm going to suggest that you lay off of the green beans and oatmeal, and add multiple daily doses of cheese, butter, pancakes with syrup, full-fat yogurt..."

Poor Roo. So, for the past four days or so, I've had to "fortify" her food with powdered formula, and she did literally have pancakes with butter and syrup for breakfast yesterday. She also gets expensive YoBaby yogurt (Try to find full-fat yogurt. I dare you.) and avocadoes, along with actual grown-up cheese. I've also tried full-fat cottage cheese with applesauce, cheesy hashbrown casserole, and I broke down and bought baby food--jars of "dinners" with meat in them. She liked the chicken and Vegetables, but did NOT appreciate the Turkey and Gravy. I don't even think we're going to attempt the Ham and Ham Gravy.

(However, at about 12:30 that night, I heard the unmistakeable sound of a baby jar being knocked to the floor. Muirne had herself a nice Stage 2 snack. Licked the bottle clean.)

We're scheduled to go back in about a month to have her weighed. At her appointment this week, she was 17 lbs., 1 oz. My goal for her is 30 pounds by May 29th.

Oh, I kid.

But since I'm eating sympathetically fatty foods, there is a chance I'll have gained 30 pounds by May 29th.

p.s. I should add that Judah and Charis refer to the canister of formula as "The Fat," as in, "Can I scoop The Fat into her food?" And when Uncle Tim came over to watch the kids yesterday, Charis assured me she'd show Uncle Tim where the "Fat and Calories" were when Ruby got hungry.

Charis' Excellent Adventure

My baby girl. It seems minutes ago we were figuring out a feeding schedule for her, watching her learn to walk, and changing her diapers. Somehow, in the blink of an eye, she has grown into a pretty self-sufficient kid who feeds herself, runs around at warp speed, and fetches diapers for her baby sister. And who is on the cusp of beginning school.

This first picture was taken from the drivers' seat (duh) while we sat at Sonic and waited for our treats after Charis' Kindergarten screening. I was so proud of her, I even let her get a toy. Here's how it all went down. That morning, we dropped my aunt off at the airport. She had been visiting with us for a week, and the kids were wired with excitement to be able to see the baggage return belts and climb on the airport chairs again. Charis, in particular, was everywhere, completely ignoring all of my instructions and admonitions and running amok. I was already a nervous wreck thinking about her testing, and not sure how she'd do; though I've tried to prepare her well and give her plenty of opportunities to grow socially, emotionally, and intellectually, we didn't send her to a formal preschool, and I was afraid that would be to her detriment when it came time to be tested. Seeing Charis running wild, my aunt suggested I have a talk with her about how important it was to follow her teacher's instructions and obey. I assured her we'd have a long, long chat about that on the way there.

I dropped off Judah and Ruby at a friend's house, and Charis and I headed over to the school. On the whole ride there, I was trying to quiz her and prepare her for the evaluation. The only problem was that I myself didn't know what to expect from it. Charis has a knack for knowing when you're trying to elicit information from her, and loves to thwart your efforts; she'll do things like insert an L into her numbers when counting or toss a 7 into her alphabet, just to be funny and to give me gray hair. So we talked long and hard about obedience and cooperation, and about how it was a day to show the teachers how very smart she is. "No being funny, Charis. This is serious, and you have to answer all of their questions as best you can," I said. We arrived a few minutes early, prayed, and marched into the school.

She's so confident, is the thing. In my personal opinion, she's brilliant and charming and funny and beautiful, and I can't imagine a world where she wouldn't be invited into Kindergarten with open arms. But I am her mother, and so I realize I have a certain bias and that professional educators might want to put my still-four-year-old, who will just have turned five this summer, into the Young Fives program to give her a chance to mature a little more. I tried to give myself the pep talk wherein I convince myself that admission into the Young Fives program is not tantamount to parental failure (because it really isn't), and handed her over to the teachers for the evaluation.

Several people have asked me about what sorts of things they asked her or required her to do, and the real answer is that I do not know. There were six tables set up: four tables were occupied by the teachers doing the screening, and two tables were activity tables for the children who were waiting to be screened. Then there was a semi-circle of chairs set up for the parents--all of of whom looked terrified. We were given a packet of information and a checklist to fill out with our child's abilities and told to wait there while our kids were being tested. I fruitlessly strained to hear what was going on at the teachers' tables. Charis had a few minutes to wait between teachers, during which I tried to ascertain what they'd asked of her. Mostly she said things like, "Don't worry, mom. It was really easy."

And just like that, it was over. "Is that it?" I asked.

"That's it," they answered.

Charis beamed. "Mom, I didn't even say anything funny! I did a good job!"

I glanced at the folders, a pile of which was sitting on one of the tables. I noted that Charis had comparitively high-ish scores, but I had no idea what the numbers actually meant, so it was little consolation. I knew we'd be notified by mail what decision they'd reached, so my anxiety didn't subside for a while. Treats at Sonic helped, as did some one-on-one time with Charis where I realized that it really didn't matter a whole lot whether she was assigned to Young Fives or regular (all day! everyday!) Kindergarten, because she's a happy, well-adjusted kid who will bloom well wherever she's planted. (All the same, I was glad to learn, two days later, that she'd been accepted into the Kindergarten program. I'm still human.)

Twelve minutes ago, she was a little spitting up, diaper-clad, rice cereal-faced bundle of joy. Four minutes ago, she was a walking, potty training toddler. And tomorrow, she'll be off to Kindergarten. Just like that. But she'll always be my baby girl.

Judah Picture Page

Ah, Judah. There's something about a little (big) boy that just warms a mother's heart. Yesterday afternoon, Abe was washing a few dishes. While I will assure you that that is not a frequent occurrence, it is not completely out of the ordinary. Mostly. So there he is, sudsing away, when precious Judah gave him what-for: "Daddy, boys aren't supposed to wash dishes! Only girls!" Abe laughed and immediately sent Judah to tell me this piece of breaking news.

I shouldn't have been surprised, then, when, upon seeing his Auntie Moriah in a t-shirt with a picture of a tractor on it declared, "Girls don't like tractors! Only boys!"

Ah, Judah. Sweet Judah. I couldn't even get it together enough this year to write you a Happy Birthday post. But it's not because I don't love you, or that it's not important to me; it's because every time I sit down to try to write about you, I am at a loss for words. I'll sit down to type a glowing review of you and a list of the thousands of reasons why I love you, and then you hit Ruby over the head with a truck, and I find my praise a little bit derailed. I catch myself saying, "Where was I again?" and I give up on the post and decide to write about you when I am in a better frame of mind. You are in one moment totally obstinant, and cuddly and compliant in the next. One minute, you're laying down the rules for gender roles (which I will teach out of you), and when next I catch a glimpse of you, you've put on your sister's dress up princess shoes. You will pour yourself a glass of milk or juice without assistance, but balk when I suggest you select your own apple from the fridge.

You used to be quite timid. And there are situations when you still are, and that's okay with me. But I'm delighted that you beg me to let you go to your class at church. And I'm thrilled that you have a sense of adventure when you're playing. I love a boy with abandon, and boy, you've got it. Especially when your cousin is not pushing you around.

You are at times obsessive about having clean hands, and you're always the first to request a napkin when we're eating. But it does not bother you in the least to walk around with food on your face. Can you not feel it? At any rate, in most of my recent photos of you, you've got some sort of chocolate mustache. At least we won't forget it.

And the whole hitting-your-sister-with-a-truck thing? It really happened. In her crib. You went in to "keep her company," which is not out of the ordinary. You love that baby like no other. But when, minutes later, she was crying after taking some lug wheels to the head, I was a bit miffed. And mystified. At what point does "I love my Ruby" turn into "...so I will now throw this Tonka at her."?

But I suppose it is your slight unpredictability--I say slight because you really are quite a joy most of the time--that makes you so intruguing. While I would never say that Charis was a high-needs baby, parenting you was, by comparison, like parenting a marshmallow. People would ask, "Is he always this content?" And we'd sigh and gaze lovingly at our brown-eyed boy and beam. You were always that content, and remained so until you turned two, at which point you developed the tiniest stubborn streak. Now you're three, and while we still catch glimpses of that streak at home, I am happy to report that you're still that content, compliant little boy when you're in public. People are still amazed at how laid-back and easygoing you are. I am so proud to be your mom.

And that is why I am typing this post while you're still asleep. When you're asleep, I can write away and not encounter one of those contradictions that makes it so hard for me to stay on-task. I know that soon, you will wake up and start being a typical three-year-old boy, but for now, you're just my sweet, lovable little marshmallow.

Oh--you're coming down the stairs. Good morning, child. What's it going to be? Guns blazing, or cuddly mama's boy? The fun thing is, right now? I can't wait to find out.

I love you, boy.

(But you will wash the dishes someday.)

Ruby Picture Page

Look at how big I'm getting! I can pull myself up on furniture and stand for hours. This picture was taken on Easter. Look how proud everyone looks! I can even sit back down without falling. I know, I know!! I'm amazing. I'm also starting to eat table food. I love cheese. And potatoes. And cheerios. Really, anything is better than those mushy green beans my mom keeps trying to feed me. Those things are disgusting. On Easter, my mom fed me some homemade noodles, and they were a taste sensation. Why didn't I know about those sooner?
And look at me! I can take a real, live big-kid bath! Sure, I require some close supervision. But just last week, I took a bath with Charis and Judah, and it was FUN. Their bath toys are way cooler than mine, and their bubbles smell like watermelon. Word to the wise, though: don't eat the bubbles. I tried them, and trust me, the watermelon essence is just a scent. They tasted terrible.
Here I am soaking up the sun in the back yard. I love to swing in the baby swing. I try to keep from cackling--I mean, I don't want to appear as if I'm enjoying a baby swing too much--but I just can't help myself. Baby swings are exhilarating, and don't let anybody well you otherwise. I feel so ALIVE when I'm swinging through the air. And those moments when Charis lets me swing out of control...wow. Talk about exciting.

All in all, I'm a very happy baby. I hesitate to call myself baby, though, because after all, I am TEN MONTHS old. Really--crawling, standing, waving, clapping, eating, SWINGING? I'm nearly grown up! Now, if only I could get some teeth...

Easter Picture Page

Can you tell which one of these objects is an Easter egg? I'll give you a hint: it's made of white plastic. Easy for an adult to find, difficult for little kids. That's what Yia Yia was banking on this year when she and Moriah hid 32 plastic eggs for Charis, Judah, Gideon, and Elise to find. This is the second year she has organized a hunt for the kids, and they really enjoy it. (Duh. There's candy involved. They'd hunt down rabid wolves if there was candy involved.) Last year, the hunt took place inside the house, but this year's weather was nice enough--and the kids are old enough--to move it to a larger area.
Never underestimate the bloodlust--I mean chocolate lust--of a three year old. These kids had their egg territories STAKED OUT.

My sweet girl has the advantage of age and height, and she ended up with an inordinate amount of eggs. Thankfully, she is pretty kind, as almost-five-year-olds go. Here she is donating an orange egg to Judah's cause.
Here she is keeping some for herself.


The beauty of 32 eggs is that they are easily divisible by four. Not only that, Yia Yia had the foresight to fill the eggs strategically so that when all the eggs had been located, their contents, too, would be easily divisible by four.

(Side note: I cannot for the life of me keep my train of thought on this post. Charis is fighting sleep even now, at 10 pm. First, she was distressed because I'd been at choir practice late and hadn't tucked her in. Then, she was distressed because earlier, on the way to church, she'd accidentally inhaled a triangular piece of confetti into her nose and it hasn't resurfaced. The latest protest was so laden with whines and sobs we still have no real idea what's wrong, other than extreme fatigue. Now, she's up in her room fake-sobbing, but we are not going to crack. And I am GOING TO finish this post, if it's the last thing I do tonight. For pete's sake. I have no fewer than six drafts of posts I was unable to finish, all dated within the past eight weeks--something's gotta give.)

So anyway, here's Charis, keeping tabs to make sure everything is tallied up fairly.

And here's Egg Inspector Number 1, Judah, in a coat that used to belong to his uncle. Or dad. Someone in that era, anyway.When it was all said and done, the kids did pretty well. Yia Yia included some candy in the loot (Peeps. *shudder*), but there was also fruit leather ("The other kids always got Fruit Roll Ups, and we always had nasty organic fruit leather. Gross." -Abe) and miniature baby animal toys and the like, so they weren't completely hopped up on sugar on Easter. Of course, we did eat Blueberry Peach Cobbler and Homemade Chocolate Pudding with Fresh Whipped Cream and Strawberries when we went back inside, so I suppose they probably had a little tiny hint of sugar buzz.

You know, it's important to me that my kids know what Easter is really for--celebrating Jesus' resurrection and the fact that He conquered death so that we might have eternal life in heaven--but a little Easter egg hunt with some candy never hurt anyone.

(Though I might hurt someone if Charis keeps carrying on like this.)

Goodnight, everybody. Happy Belated Easter.

Sorry, I thought You Knew

I've been operating under the assumption that you instinctively know about what's going on in our lives, but comments from some of you have led me to believe you are not, in fact, aware of the haps at our house. Strange! I thought you were supposed to read minds, and it appears as if you are not equipped with that ability. So, sorry. Maybe after the next full eclipse you will inherit the superpower of omniscience. Until then, I will try to keep updating you.

First,the most oft-asked question: is Abe back to work? Yes, he is. As a matter of fact, it was the shortest layoff ever. For two weeks, he suspected layoffs were imminent, and only worked three days a week. On the Friday of the second week, he was officially pink-slipped. We feared the worst. Abe is a good worker, though, and I knew that if anyone had an opening, he'd be snapped up in a jiffy. He was--by Wednesday. That made for a total of six days without work. Right now, he's working for his former company on a new nursing home being built approximately 4 minutes from our home. Please forgive me--seriously--for not updating you about this. I know many of you have been praying, and I didn't mean to leave you hanging.

Second, I'm having arthroscopic knee surgery tomorrow. I'm not sure at this point what I've shared and what I haven't, but for those of you who don't know, I tore my ACL (and a whole bunch of other stuff) playing volleyball in January. I put off going to the doctor because I was pretty sure they'd tell me to suck it up and heal, but after being pestered by a whole lot of well-meaning mothers in my choir, I went. After a month of physical therapy and an MRI, the doctors that be determined knee surgery was essential. The strange thing is that I've been getting around just fine lately; apparently, the ACL is not necessary for walking. But if ever I wanted to play sports again (I do) or chase my kids again (sounds nice), surgery was the only option. So tomorrow at 2:30, I'm going under in an outpatient procedure to repair my meniscuses (menisci?) and graft in a new ACL. Hopefully, I will be as good as new before all of the summer fun.


























Why are all of those pictures in a bunch? I don't know. That last one is the tile in our entry way. Abe just completed that tile and the tile in our laundry room and the main floor bath. The paint in the addition is almost completed, and the next task will be his installation of hardwood flooring. Our addition is nearly complete. (It has only been TWO YEARS.)

We got a new camera--a digital SLR. It's a Nikon D40, and I couldn't be more excited. A friend of ours, Jim, was upgrading and sold us his still-relatively-new camera for a song. I will be taking my sister-in-law's senior pictures (and those of a friend of hers) this summer, so I'm trying to do a lot of practicing; unfortunately, I've been quite busy lately, so I haven't been able to play with it as much as I'd like. I feel much cooler now that I have a "real" camera, even if I'm still a very amateur photographer.

Anyway, on to the kids:

Charis...

...has been accepted to the Charter Academy we were hoping to send her to. Applications exceeded available spots, so the school held a lottery to determine who would be allowed entrance, and she made it! I am so excited about this school. It is not a Christian school--which we'd love, but cannot afford--but the principal is a believer and has made it her mission to create as "Christian" of a school as she can within the confines of the law. We know several families whose children attend school there, and they've all been overwhelmingly pleased. Because Charis made it in, this guarantees admission for Judah and Ruby, should we still be there when they are school age. Charis will go for testing near the end of April, so we've been really working hard on letters and numbers and such. With her June birthdate, she would be eligible for the Young 5s program if testing proves she's not academically or socially or emotionally ready, but I don't honestly see that happening. She's as smart as a tack, and as social as anyone I've ever met.

I recently taught her our address to the tune of "Skip to my Lou," and now she will never forget it. In fact, when I ask her what our address is, she always sings it back to me.

Judah...

...had a birthday! I've been so frantic trying to get some cleaning projects and whatnot done before my surgery that I haven't had time to construct his birthday post, but that is not a reflection on how much we love him, and how grown up he is getting. We celebrated with Abe's family the Sunday before his actual day, and had our own pizza party on his actual birthday. Judah received lots of "Cars" items (his latest favorite thing), and some sporting equipment. So far, he has played basketball with Daddy and tee ball with Mommy and Charis, but he hasn't had a chance to test out his (REAL) golf clubs. I never knew they made golf clubs that small! He also received some wiffle golf balls and some tees (which he calls "golf nails").

He still wears a diaper for naps and bedtime, but other than that, he is undie-clad. His favorite undies are "Cars"-themed undies. The only problem is that the picture is on the back, so he prefers wearing them backward. I figure that as long as he makes it to the bathroom in time, it's not really important how he wears them.

Lately, when Judah wakes up in the morning, he comes down to our bedroom and hops in bed with me for a good cuddle. I'm not kidding--it's a pretty great way to start the day hearing your 3 year-old say first thing, "I LOVE you, Mama."

Ruby

What can I say about Ruby? I already told you she's crawling. She is getting pretty speedy at it, as a matter of fact. She has also started trying to pull herself up on chairs and coffee tables and such. She doesn't quite make it--she gets stuck on her haunches--but she's still trying!

She still has no teeth. What's up with that? Ruby's lack of teeth have little effect on her appetite--it is not uncommon for her to eat a cup of food at a sitting. Where does it all go, I wonder?

Her eyes have stalled in their color-changing process; I'm not entirely sure what color to call her eyes now. Hazel? Greyish brown? Herman?

WHEW. I think that about covers it. Now you're all caught up. You know, I get frustrated when my friends don't update their blogs very often; I never thought I might be causing the same frustration to some of you. I will try to post more often, friends! (Unless that superhuman knowledge thing works out for you after the eclipse. You let me know.)

Guess Who Is Crawling?

Fewer Diapers, More Lysol Wipes

The day has, at long last, arrived! Judah is finally interested in using the big boy potty. Frankly, I thought it was going to happen earlier than it did since he has a potty-using sibling and generally tries to emulate her in so many other ways. But here it is, a mere month before he turns 3, and he has embraced the notion of wearing big boy undies and all that entails. With two kids in diapers putting us in the poor house, it couldn't come soon enough.

Of course, potty training is not without its pitfalls. We don't leave the house without two extra pairs of undies and two pairs of pants, just in case. I've also realized that I need to pack extra shirts. I didn't have to do that when Charis was potty training, so it didn't even occur to me that along with different physiology comes different spray patterns. My laundry has increased, and I've been wiping up lots of "almost made it!" accidents. But all in all, I'd say Judah is doing quite well. We've been using a sticker chart/candy reward system with some success, but mostly, I'd say he is doing a great job self-motivating. I've had to be a bit more vigilant about the whole thing today because he wanted to emulate his sister's leotard-wearing habit (leotards are tough for anyone to get off, especially 2 year-olds), but so far, so good! He still gets a diaper for naps and at night, but he's off to a great start!

Poor, Sweet Sickies

We've been having a yucky week. All three kids have had some sort of stomach bug. Charis slept on our floor next to a bucket last Wednesday and Judah had his turn Saturday and Sunday nights. I won't go into further details, because WHY would I? But I will tell you that, while Charis was too consumed by her illness to note the lack of a nightlight in our room, Judah still needed one. And since I couldn't find an official nightlight on such short notice, he used this:


It's a Christmas tree made out of colored lights, clear plastic beads, and safety pins. My grandmother made it for us (we actually have two of these trees), and it is pretty much Judah's favorite thing. I wish I could have gotten a shot of how he fell asleep gazing at it. Who needs a security blanket when you've got twinkle lights and plastic beads? Not Judah. Thanks, Grandma! Your tree made those nights much easier for him.

Jesus' New Friend

This is my 200th post here on Peanut, Bubba, and Jelly. I remember anticipating my 100th post and wanting to do something special to mark the occasion, but when the moment came, I neglected to note it. And then it was too late--no one cares a whoopty-do about post #101, so that particular milestone came and went without fanfare. I will not make that mistake again! This is post 200, and it calls for something special.

I cannot imagine anything more special to tell you than this:

Charis asked Jesus into her heart this week.

She has been asking about specifics in regard to salvation, and of course, I have been more than happy to oblige. We've talked about sin, and how our sin keeps us separated from God. We've talked about Jesus, about how He died on the cross, becoming the sacrifice that paid the price for our sins once for all. We've talked about forgiveness, and love, and heaven, and about accepting God's gift of eternity with Him. And then, this past Sunday, Charis asked The Question: How can I go to heaven?

We were in the van, all of us, heading for a little Super Bowl get-together, when she asked. I glanced over at Abe, not sure if I should explain it then, in the noisy van, or wait until we got to the party. I decided that you don't just let your child ask about going to heaven and not answer; besides, I figured that by the time we arrived at the party, she would have forgotten and the opportunity would be lost. So I took a deep breath, and explained it all again. And then my girl said she wanted to do that, she wanted to ask Jesus into her heart. I asked her if she wanted to pray right then, and she said yes. So we did.

Since then, I've been trying to gauge whether she really understood what it all meant. I've asked her to explain it to me in her own words, about sin and forgiveness and Jesus and heaven. And, with the help of some leading questions, she can. Only God knows her heart, and whether she understands well enough to have really made that decision that day, but as far as I can tell, it was for real.

Welcome to the family, Baby Girl!

On a sidenote, I suggested that she tell her Gopher Buddies teacher. "Tell her that you asked Jesus to forgive you of your sins and come into your heart and life. And tell her that you know how much Jesus loves you! And tell her that you know that He died for your sins, and that you're going to be in heaven with Him someday," I said.

Charis rolled her eyes. "Mom. I'm not going to tell her all that. I will just tell her that I asked Jesus into my heart, okay?" Okay.

So, Anyway...

Things here are good.

Okay, I was trying to think of a sentence to follow that, and I thought, Are things really good here? I'm on antibiotics for one thing, our oven isn't functional, I've got a bum knee, and thanks to the booming economy, my husband was laid off on Thursday. We've had a lean year financially because of last year's layoff and my preterm labor and multiple hospitalizations, which makes it even more difficult to be laid off right now.

To top off all of the chocolatey goodness, our satellite is out, so we WON'T HAVE TV UNTIL SUNDAY. Things do not seem good. They do not seem good at all.

While we do not have a job or a whole lot of money or access to the Food Network at present, we do have:

A warm house
Clean clothes to wear (thanks to a dear lady from church who came to help with laundry)
Plenty of food to eat (thanks to two wonderful church ladies who brought meals, and because we have 1/4 of a cow in our freezer)
Happy, healthy kids
A healthy marriage
Lots of friends and family

God provides all that we need, when we need it. He has never left us on our own, and He has taught us through this past challenging year that He is always faithful. (Though, to be fair, I'VE GOT IT. YOU'RE FAITHFUL. I'D LIKE TO COAST ON THAT FOR A WHILE.) So, to sum up...

Things are good. Oh yes, they are.

___________________________________


Charis is as charming and exuberant as always. We're spending more and more time these days learning letters, numbers, and phonics in an attempt to ready her for Kindergarten. She loves going to her classes at church, and seems pleased that I am no longer her teacher. Right back atcha, kid! She says hilarious things, though her vocabulary is somewhat limited, lately, to the words poop and pee. And just today, she suggested we watch the movie about "the big green yogurt and his friend, Donkey. I like that yogurt. He's funny." Charis is well-spoken, wonderfully quirky, and confident in who she is! Sometimes she makes me want to strangle her, but she also holds a very tender place in my heart and I can get a little bit teary just looking at her precious self when I tuck her in before I go to bed. Just now, she has on her dad's big old snow boots: "I'm the Stamp Stamp Crush Woman!! Does that make sense?"

Judah is getting taller and taller and has, to a certain extent, put aside the quiet toddler portion of his personality, and seems to have embraced his inner chatterbox. He also seems to be turning into Charis in a few ways. He does put his own spin on things, though. When Charis prays for dinner, she almost always says, "Thank you for this food, thank you for this day, Amen." Judah squeezes his eyes shut and says some variation of "Thank you for Jesus, thank you for dinner, thank you for the snow, thank you for Daddy, thank you for the Christmas tree, thank you for my class. Amen." He, too, likes his classes--that is, after he has finished his mini-meltdown when we drop him off. Today, he is dressed like a bumble bee and loving it, but most of the time, he eschews costumes for his trucks and "engie fires." If I had a nickel for every person who expressed their love for Judah, we'd be incredibly wealthy. Just now, he is singing: "Here is pointin', here is pointin'. Here I'm is, here I'm is. How are you today? Run away, Charis. Run away, Charis."

Ruby is our squishable baby doll. We're all fans. When she wakes, Judah races over to his "RUBY BELLE!" Charis likes to help her "crawl" during her tummy time. Ruby can sit on her own, unattended. She does topple occasionally, but she always makes it look like she meant to do it. She can scoot on her belly, but only backwards, and is beginning to love food (namely carrots and peaches. She's not such a fan of peas). Her tear duct is still plugged, which I am OVER. I am not over waiting for teeth; at seven months, she has gone longer without teeth than either of our other kids. Maybe she doesn't have any. Time will tell.

And us? We're okay. We've got electricity to the addition, which means that instead of going down into the basement with a flashlight, I can just flip light switches on my way down. And my kitchen has 5 delightful can lights that illuminate our worksurfaces. Laaaaaaaahhhhh! Abe's mom is helping us paint the addition, which will then give way to flooring, then trim, then hallelujah, we're pretty much done. For now. And besides that, it's naptime for the kids, which means a few minutes of quiet.

What more can we ask?

Hidey Ho, Neighbor

First: I got a new camera. It was a steal on eBay and will fill the gap until I win the lottery and can afford the digital SLR I've been coveting. It will be especially useful when I can find the cord that came with it and upload some of the photos I've taken. I'd like to pretend that this level of disorganization that precludes me from including more pictures on this blog extends only to my photographic life, but that would be a lie. Currently, I cannot find the envelope full of money and checks people submitted to me for Volleyball League fees, and lost forever is the receipt for the fleece sweatshirt I got for Abe's Gran for Christmas. Turns out she needs to exchange it for a larger size. I am SO in trouble.

So, you know, until I find said cord and organize my life, can you just ponder this imaginary cute photo of Ruby?














She's a doll, isn't she? I agree. Look at those browner-by-the-minute eyes, and her 25th-percentile chunky thighs, and-oh!-that smile! She's been sleeping through the night regularly, so we're all very happy. Next, check out this photo of the kids taken by Olan Mills for our church's pictorial directory:












Why did Charis feel she had to stick out her tongue? And why is Judah scowling? Whenever we say "Don't smile!" at home, it results in a huge grin--why did he choose picture day to begin following directions? And similarly, why isn't Ruby smiling? I was doing all of my best tricks--blowing raspberries, chanting "Ruuuu-by" in an embarrasing sing-song voice, telling her favorite joke ("bababababa")--but...nothing. Sigh. At least we didn't feel too guilty when the picture salesman put on his "crestfallen" face when we informed him we'd just take our one free picture (un-retouched, no less) and be on our way.

In other news, we had our first official volleyball game this Tuesday night. I was so excited about it, I went ahead and blew out my knee. I've been hobbling around on crutches ever since, and my knee is swollen to the size of a Volkswagon. I was able to put a little bit of weight on it this morning, but I've been sitting here at the computer getting caught up, and I'm afraid it has seized up again. Back to the drawing board...

And finally, the most exciting news of all: I feel that Charis is on the cusp of beginning a life with Jesus! She has been asking tons of questions about Jesus and heaven, and has even brought home a few tracts from church (which she calls her "little books") that have sparked quite a few conversations. Pray for her understanding, and pray for me as I try to make salvation clear to her.

Miscellaneous

Sad news: our digital camera may be dead. It has ceased to charge or be able to hold a charge, even though I bought a brand-new battery for it. So, until Santa brings us a new digital camera (and it may be a long time, because HELLO, bills), the only way I am able to snap pictures is if our camera is plugged into the wall. Unfortunately, because of this, we have missed out on a good many photo/video ops recently. Like, for instance:

• When Charis and Judah were singing in the living room the other day. Charis was singing "It's the season to be Jelly." Judah was singing about rowing his boat "gently down the street."
• When Charis, Judah and I decorated sugar cookie cutouts on an evening I've dubbed "Battle of the Sprinkles." We only decorated a dozen cookies, but we somehow used the contents of three bottles of sprinkles. Those gingerbread men were SPARKLY.
  
• When Charis and Judah were sledding at Grandpa and Yia Yia's. Charis had on a skirt and tights, but she was having the time of her life. I guess frostbite isn't that big of a concern when you're 4.
• When Ruby had her first bites of food. I only had peaches on hand, so that's what she started with. I thought she'd be a big fan. Turns out she wasn't.
• When we went to pick our our Christmas tree. I made matching fleece hats for Charis, Ruby, and me, so we looked too cute for words. But with no picture to prove it, you'll just have to take my word for it. I did not make matching hats for Abe and Judah because they are too manly for that sort of frou-frou stuff. This was the first year we've actually been prepared with cold-weather gear for all of the kids. It's a big step for us!
  
• When the kids "helped" me "decorate" the tree. It looked great, if your idea of great is six plastic snowflakes hanging on two branches.
  
• When we were all dressed up and looking fabulous for Abe's cousin's wedding. Ruby was wearing a precious red velveteen dress, Judah had on a button-down shirt under a sweater vest like a Gap Kids model, and Charis was wearing a black, white and red Christmas dress with feathery cuffs and a flouncy, tulle-y skirt. Our outfits were immortalized in the family picture, but since we were five people out of thirty or so, and since we were in the back, I'm thinking they won't show up super well.
• When we went with Tim and Beth, Gideon and Elise, and Moriah to the Festival of Lights Riverwalk. There were lots of photo-worthy moments, like the 12 Days of Christmas done in lights, with Tony the Tiger holding the 5 golden rings. Or the kids staring at the accordion-playing Santa in the warming house, or nearly mauling the talking Christmas tree. But the thing I would most have liked to capture on film was the moment that Abe and I stepped out of the van and realized that neither one of us had grabbed the big kids' coats. We had outfitted them in snowpants, boots, and mittens and hats, so they weren't completely without weather protection, but with no jackets, they were ill-suited (quite literally, it seems) to walk out in the snow. I shed my bulky sweatshirt and scarf and bundled Charis, and Abe donated his wind-breaking jacket to wrap up Judah, then we tucked them into a wagon with every towel and blanket we had (except for the blanket that Abe then used to try to keep himself warm). Of course, Charis wanted to walk rather than ride in the toasty warm wagon, and of course, she ended up getting a bit chilly tramping through the knee-deep snow, so I gave her my down jacket and took back my (now soggy) sweatshirt and scarf. Thankfully, throughout the ordeal, Ruby stayed toasty in her cozy layers and snowsuit. Still, despite the outwear mishap, it was a very fun evening, an event which I hope will become a family tradition. Though next year, I hope we have a camera to bring with us.
• When, in a few days, I try to get photos of Ruby's first Christmas with an extension cord trailing behind me. She's so cute, I can't bear the thought of missing out on pictures of her, but it does feel a bit hoopty having to take pictures so close to electrical outlets. If anyone from Canon or Nikon or Kodak or Sony or, well, any digital camera manufacturer is reading this and wants to surprise this young family with a free camera, we'd be forever grateful.
  

I wish you and yours a blessed Christmas!

My Girl Is So Big

Last night, we crossed some sort of line--a Charis-Is-Getting-Old line.

This fall, she began taking part in Wee Praisers, a kids' choir for 4 and 5 year-olds. Since she's not doing any sort of organized preschool beyond what we do at home with games and worksheets and projects and stuff, I've been trying to give her ample opportunity to learn how to "do" school--namely, the Sitting Still part and the Following Instructions part. Besides the obvious outlets like Library Storytime, she does several hours of Sunday School every Sunday morning, Gopher Buddies on Wednesday nights (where I am her teacher--but that's fodder for another post), and Wee Praisers on Sunday nights. I love her teacher, Mrs. Marcia, and Charis is in Mallory D.'s group. She LOVES Mallory. On Wednesday nights, I'm able to watch how Charis interacts with others and with her teachers, and I can witness firsthand how she performs the Sitting Still and Following Instructions tasks (um...let's just call it a Work In Progress.). But with the other groups, I must observe from afar, asking questions of the teachers to better grasp Charis' status and development.

Our attendance at Wee Praisers has been a little bit spotty, so I wasn't sure how well Charis would do in the first Wee Praisers performance this past Sunday night, but I was really looking forward to catching a glimpse of what she'd been learning there. We rehearsed her script in the car on the way to church, and there were several parts that she didn't seem to know. I'd start: "Psalm 100. Shout for..."

And she'd answer: "JOY!"

"To the..."

"LORD!"

"All the..."

"EARTH!"

"Worship the..."

"SEA!"

"No, Lord. Worship the Lord with...."

"SINGING!"

"No, gladness...."

And so on and so on. I told her that if there was any part she did not know, she should just stand still and let the other children say it for her--I could almost picture her in the mini-concert, not knowing the words, tugging the sleeve of one of the helpers: "Mallory! I DON'T KNOW THIS ONE! WORSHIP THE SEA!"

We also talked about standing still and not running around the stage. Again, I watched a video of this in my head, and it seemed an all-too-likely possibility.

During the rehearsal before the "concert," I shot a whole bunch of not-very-good pictures to document the occasion. I was so proud that my little girl was old enough to be singing about how Jesus Loves her, how All Ye Little Children should Praise Him, because God is Love. I was thrilled that there were portions of Scripture that she could recite. I love it when she hides God's Word in her heart! My heart swelled. Oh, there were funny moments during the rehearsal, like when Mallory let Charis go to the bathroom and Charis returned with the front of her dress tucked into her tights. Charis crossed the entire stage before God and everybody until some kind soul noticed the wardrobe malfunction and helped her out. But all-in-all, it went very well. I was so excited to see the whole thing during the actual service.

I saved a front-row seat for Abe and I to occupy, the closest I could get to my little girl acting so grown up. Abe asked if I really thought it was a good idea to be where she could see us. He was watching a mental video where she jumped off the stage to come say hi and talked to us during all of the songs: "Daddy! I worship the SEA!"

When she came out onto the stage, she of course waved. She was being so grown-up, so ladylike! Then the boy next to her lifted his shirt, exposing his belly. Uh-oh. We hadn't covered this in the car. Abe and I exchanged anxious glances. We knew it was only a matter of time until she did this:

That's our girl. She did not disappoint.

At one point, during a particularly long portion of Scripture--or maybe it was during the Doxology, which she didn't know (we were probably gone the week they learned that one)--she went and stood behind the girl to her right, much to Mallory's consternation. Charis considered it a game, and I considered crawling under the pew in shame. Not really. It's all pretty funny when you're dealing with 4 year olds.

But for me, the absolute highlight came at the end of the Wee Praisers' rendition of "My God is so BIG."



Where did she learn that?? Yes, Charis. Take your bow, little girl. What a joy you are to watch grow!

You Were There

Like everybody, I have good days and I have bad days. On bad days, I listen to this song, and it is one reminder that I am never walking through life alone. My friend Sue sang this at church a long time ago, and I cried when she sang it. I still cry every time I hear it. Here are the lyrics--I hope they speak to your heart today.

You Were There (by Avalon)

I wonder how it must have felt
When David stood to face Goliath on a hill
I imagine that he shook with all his might
Until You took his hand, and held on tight

'Cause You were there, You were there
In the midst of danger's snare
You were there, You were there always
You were there when the hardest fight
Seemed so out of reach
Oh, You were there, You were always there
You were always there

So there he stood upon that hill
Abraham with knife in hand was poised to kill
But God in all his sovereignty had bigger plans
And just in time, You brought a lamb

'Cause You were there,
You were there
In the midst of the unclear
You were there, you were there always
You were there when obedience
Seemed to not make sense
You were there, You were always there
You were always there

So haven't I learned that my ways
Aren't as high as Yours are
And You alone keep the universe
From crumbling into dust
You are God and though we would
Not have understood You
There You were

Hanging blameless on a cross
You would rather die than leave us in the dark
Every moment, every planned coincidence
Just all makes sense
With Your last breath

You were there, You were there
During history's darkest hour
You were there, You were there always
You were the Victor and the King
You were the power in David's swing
You were the calm in Abraham
You are the God who understands
You are the strength when we have none
You are the living, Holy one
You were, You are and You will always be
the Risen Lamb of God

You were, You are and You will always be
The Risen Lamb of God

Rubaby

Dear, sweet Ruby. I haven't posted pictures of her for a while, so I thought it was high time I gave you an update on her.

A) She's a delight. She's so easy going, it's amazing! Sure, she cries when she's tired or frustrated, but since we keep so a fairly consistent routine, I can usually anticipate her needs before she can, thus avoiding a lot of tears.

2) She will not have blue eyes. The jury is still out on whether they will be green or brown, but I'm almost positive they will end up on the brown side of the spectrum.

III) She has words. My favorite is "ugrb," followed by "eeek."

F) She cackles in delight. Just a few days ago, I let out a big breath--HUH--and she thought it was almost as funny as the cat.

5) She is teething. It may be a while before we see evidence, but the drool and the incessant gnawing is proof enough. Charis, who, by the calendar, was born four days earlier, sprouted her first tooth on Thanksgiving day, and Judah's first popped out two weeks earlier than that, so it's time!

F) She sucks her thumb. At first, she'd get her thumb in her mouth with an open hand that would cover her face. Now, she's more experienced, and she hooks her pointer finger over her nose like a pro.

vi) She is so smiley. It makes some people feel special that they can "get her to smile," but I'm here to tell you that it's no mean feat. Toast can make her smile.

M) She's rolling from tummy to back, and she can scoot quite a ways with her legs, so we have to be very careful if we put her on a bed--we surround her with a barricade of pillows, and even then, she sometimes sneaks through!

45) She's fascinated by books. I'll sit her in my lap when I read to Charis or Judah, and she sits there, mesmerized by the pictures. Hopefully, she'll be a reader!

?) She's tall for our family--at her 4-month check up, she measured in the 60th percentile for height, and the 50th for weight. She's currently perfect in most of her 3-6 month clothes, but some are a bit snug at the feet.

[) She's just about the most popular person everywhere we go. There's just something about a cute, smooshy baby.

Case in point:





Several weeks ago, we attended the wedding of Abe's cousin. My parents came in for the event, too--not to attend, but to hang out with our kids while we went. The wedding ceremony was outdoors at the bride's parents' house, but the reception, several hours later, was held at the Country Club. Still, since she doesn't take a bottle, I couldn't NOT take Ruby, so she tagged along to the fancy reception.

The bride, Abby? She is a BIG Ruby fan. Huge. She came over several times during the reception to hold Ruby, and I wasn't about to turn her down, it being her day and all. Thankfully, Ruby didn't urp on her lovely shoulder or dress.

But then, people started clinking their glasses. Abby and Doug had been at far ends of the room, and convened near the head table for the customary kiss...only, she brought a friend. Ruby. I'd say that, with the exception of the HILARIOUS toast given by one of the "bridesmaids" (he was a guy, and not only did he use the word "bedazzled" in his speech, he also sang a ditty from The Music Man. We were in tears with laughter), this moment was about the highlight of the reception. The bride and groom say that they want to wait before they introduce children into their family, but I'm not so sure.








But make no mistake: while others may borrow her, she belongs to us! And we're not giving her up!

Who Is This Girl?

Another entry from the "Where'd That Come From" file:

Judah's nightlight came up missing tonight. We had speculated about where it might be, we had looked under the bed, we had looked in toy boxes and in every nook and cranny we could think of, when finally, Charis had the answer.

"Oh, I know who took it," she said knowingly. "It was those three monsters. You know, the ones that talk to me?"

We apparently looked concerned, so she assured us that "They are nice monsters." She nodded for effect.

I asked what their names were. "Oh, Hone, Shon, and Pong. They're really nice."

I'm not making this up, but I think she is...