Notes From the Crib

My Mommy's not feeling very well today, so I thought I'd give her a break and do a post for her. Besides, in several days, I'll be turning 8 months old, and I think it's high time we posted some more pictures.

My life has gotten so much more fun since I discovered the joy of eating paper! I eat everything I can get my hands on - except carrots and peas. I love chewing on Daddy's bills and Rachel's homework; the other day I was so proud of myself when I managed to eat a large section of her teeth brushing chart for school. I also like to chew on lint.












To advance myself in this area, I decided I was just going to have to be able to get around faster, and I devised a way to crawl at unbelievable speeds toward any given object of desire. When I discovered that this didn't quite satisfy my lust for eating household objects, I decided I would just have to start pulling myself up so I could stand and reach even more forbidden fruit. Plus, I get a kick out of making mommy yell and chase me around the house.

All of this has made me much happier, though. Lately I've decided that it's just more fun to smile than to be a grump (and I've heard it requires less facial muscles). I get lavished with all kinds of attention from my sisters and brother, and sometimes I even enjoy it! One of my favorite things to do is go to church and smile like a lunatic - I love being around people and being able to see all kinds of activity.


The one thing that I can't understand is why I haven't gotten any teeth yet. The bottom front 2 have been so close for so long. I've heard Mommy and Daddy say something about getting out a razor, but for now, I just try to speed the process by chewing on Mommy's face - especially her nose and her chin. It's just weird to me that no one else I see ever has drool hanging from their mouth like I do all the time. I sometimes like to use it to make Rachel yell - for some reason, she doesn't like it dripping all over her.

Well, that's about it. All of this writing has put me in an adventurous mood. I've been sleeping from 8:30pm - 5:30am, getting up to eat, and then sleeping for another couple of hours, so I'm feeling well rested and ready to destroy something. Gotta run (crawl) . . .

The Bike Ride That Nearly Did Me In

This weekend has been absolutely gorgeous - green trees, blue sky, warm sun, cool breezes. So Saturday we decided to load up and take a "real" family bike ride. Enough of this tooling around town stuff; we were going to hit THE TRAIL.

Biking has long been a favorite pastime for our family. Over the past several years, we've acquired a couple of child seats, a trailer and recently, a little half-bike sort of thing that attaches to Danny's bike and has handlebars and pedals. It's one of the few ways we've found to amuse ourselves that doesn't involve sitting slack-jawed in front of a screen and/or spending wads of money. (And it's very fuel-efficient!)

I would be remiss if I didn't share with you the picture we got at a graduation party we stopped in at, on our way to THE TRAIL. As you can see, it was a Hawaiian themed party, complete with lays for the kiddos and little umbrellas in the cupcakes. They had a blast, and of course before we left, they wanted to "pose" for a picture. Fun times.

From our starting point, THE TRAIL, which is the site of a historic railroad track that's been paved over in recent years, ran about 8 miles. We (I) figured we'd ride a comfortable distance and then turn around, ride back to the truck, and eat our dinner at a nearby park. It was the perfect plan (if "perfect" could be redefined as "idiotic.")






Since the trail was relatively level, we traveled the entire 8 miles and hardly broke a sweat. The air was perfumed with the scent of spring flowers and alive with the songs of the birds. The sun was warm on our backs. The sky couldn't have been bluer. We even spotted a deer in the woods beside us. The world was a beautiful place, full of love, harmony and endorphins. So when we turned around to make our way back, I expected more of the same.

After about .5 miles, I knew something was different. By the 1-mile marker, I was sweating like a pig. By mile 1.5, it was hard to catch my breath. It was then that I realized, THE TRAIL wasn't level! It stretched out before us at a gradual incline the whole way back! No wonder the first half seemed like such a breeze - we'd been riding downhill the entire time! It was so gradual as not to be noticeable - when riding down. But on the return trip it was a different story. This time, the sun blazed into our faces, the wind blew against us, and the birds were just annoying.


So much for the self-congratulations I'd been handing myself for being in such great shape! By mile 5, I was chugging water and promising God my firstborn if He would only let us make it back alive. Which He did.

I tell you what - a cold meatloaf sandwich has never tasted so good. The kiddos were pretty tired out, too (How is that possible? All they did was ride behind us!). They all asked to go straight to bed as soon as we got home around 8:15 - an unprecedented event.

The day was actually a lot of fun as a whole, but I think maybe next time we'll stick to tooling around the neighborhood . . .

Review and Revelation

Why We're Not Emergent (by two guys who should be) by Kevin DeYoung and Ted Kluck


I finished this book last week while my computer was "in the shop" (coincidence?), and wanted to jot down a few thoughts. I won't go into great detail - you pretty much just have to read it for yourself - but if you've ever wondered about the emerging / emergent church (non)movement, and what its leaders (don't) stand for, this is an excellent resource. Kevin DeYoung (the pastor)'s chapters are very intellectual and full of quotes from a plethora of emergent authors, pastors and leaders. Ted Kluck (the writer) has an easy, Donald Miller-esque style as he focuses more specifically on his impression of books like Rob Bell's Velvet Elvis and his visit to Mars Hill.

I also found it refreshing that in the midst of their thoughts on the emergent church, they lay out the gospel numerous times, and always use the Bible as their reference point. The book is very solid and fair; the authors are extremely well-read and thoughtful. I found the whole book quite fascinating; in addition to increasing my knowledge of emergent beliefs & practices, it also gave me a deeper understanding of my own faith. I highly recommend it.



And just for the fun of it ... this cracked me up so I had to pass it along.

Last night, the kids and I were driving back from Wal-Mart, and somehow, the topic of "teenagers" came up (conversations around here are often random and not entirely coherent!). Zeke ends up asking, "When will I be a teenager?" And Rachel, always eager to impart wisdom to her adoring fans, replies, "Oh, that's not until you're in college."

"Actually," I say, "You will become a teenager in junior high and you'll be a teenager up through the first couple years of college. But you can also be 20 or 21 or 22 and still be in college." (I didn't add that you can also be much older and in college. This conversation seemed to be mind-blowing enough and I didn't want to risk their little brains exploding.)

At this point I hear strange noises of exclamation coming from Rachel's seat, and finally, unable to contain herself, she screeches out, "Oh my word! That's like . . . a grown-up!" The funny thing is, I remember being in 2nd grade and thinking I would never be as old as the 5th & 6th graders, so I can only imagine how it must have messed her up to know one of her favorite babysitters, who she apparently thought had just become a teenager, is actually . . . a grown-up!

Overheard

Zekers: Rachel, you know what I was thinking?

Rachel: No.

Zekers: Well, I was just thinking that 4 babies is enough. We don't need to bring home any more.

Rachel: Oh, you can never have too many babies.

Zekers (emphatically): Yes, you can.

Rachel (sagaciously): Zeke, God's the one who decides how many babies to give us. And Mom just keeps havin' 'em.

Zekers: Well, I think God likes our family the way it is!

(At this point the conversation was interrupted when one of the kiddos saw Karis trying to feed Malachi a piece of lint off the floor - as if he needed any encouragement!)

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A Couple of "Beef-isms"

For whatever reason, I have never succeeded in getting Zekers to say the words today, yesterday, or tomorrow. Instead, it's always been, "this day", "the day before this day", and "the next day after this day."

My son is in love with flip-flops. I just bought Zekers a pair of white/black/gray camouflage flip-flops from Old Navy for $2.50. I guess flip-flops must be the 4-yr-old equivalent of a Corvette. He goes on and on about them, and wears them every chance he gets. He was devastated last Sunday because I wouldn't let him wear them to church.

Danny has been really good about setting an example for the kids of thanking me for dinner sometimes (except when I make tofu pancakes). As a result, lately Zekers has thanked me at least once every day for a meal I've fixed. My standard response (after hearing an excellent message by John Piper) has been, "It was my pleasure." To which Zekers responds back, "And it was my pleasure to eat it!"

Ever since he started talking, Zekers has always enunciated very well and used almost perfect grammar. It still cracks me up, though, to hear him say things like, "I want a cookie so badly, Mom". He also can't hold in his feelings to save his life, and is constantly saying things like, "I don't like you when you spank me", or "Mom, I'm really sad right now because Rachel won't share with me." But he makes up for all of it with an occasional, unsolicited "I love you, Mom."

The very best thing at bedtime is to get "nudder kiss" and "nudder hug" from Zekers. He hugs me tightly, and then pulls me down again for a "nudder hug". Even better is when he takes my face in both hands and does the European thing, kissing one cheek and then turning my head for a "nudder kiss' on the other cheek. What a sweet little guy.

I just wanted to write all this down so I'll never forget it. . . I love you, Mr. Beef!

Once Again

I'm posting this from Danny's laptop, because once again, my computer has decided to go AWOL. Last month when this happened, I lauded the benefits of not having a computer for several weeks and getting so many other things done. This time, it's just plain annoying. But the good news is, ALL of my pictures are backed up.

Anyway, other than the computer thing, it's been a good Mother's Day. Danny took me out for dinner Thursday; yesterday I went with my 2 sisters to get a pedicure and manicure and do some shopping - without kiddos (pictures to follow - hopefully); and over the past week, we've been able to have some really good times with both our mothers (and dads, too!). At dinner last night, the munchkins presented me with several handmade cards and a list entitled, "What we love about Mommy". Does it get any better than that?

Rachel also informed me today, while she was playing with my stomach (don't ask), that it "feels like kneading bread dough"; although a) I don't think she's ever kneaded bread dough, and b) unfortunately, at this point, bread dough is much firmer than my stomach.

Happy Mother's Day!

Six Weeks, Give or Take

Procrastination and I go way back. It was probably the worst in college, when I ended up pulling many an all-nighter to do a project handed out weeks in advance. (However, the chocolate-chip-cookie dough I consumed in the process made it all worthwhile.)

As each of my sweet babies has entered our family, procrastination has, by necessity, given way to (slightly) greater efficiency, as I've discovered that to preserve my sanity, I've needed to start planning ahead on occasion.

Except when it comes to certain medical appointments, apparently.

About 2 weeks ago, I called my OBGYN with a question. The nurse politely inquired, "Have you been in for your 6-week check-up?" I stammered and stuttered for a couple of seconds, and then out came just about the lamest reply I could have imagined giving: "Well. . . not yet. "I see", she said, and then asked, "And when was the baby born?"

Gulp. "October 3rd", came my guilty response.

LONG pause. "So it's been about . . . seven months?"

"Yeah, I guess I . . . forgot." The truth is, I really had forgotten for about the first 2 months, then put off calling for the next 2 months, and by then I reasoned, at this point, why bother?

Her voice took on the same tone I often use with my children. "Well, why don't we just set up an appointment, and when you come in you can talk to the doctor about all your questions."

Which is why I found myself, at 10:00 this morning, sitting in the OB's office filling out a bunch of forms about my last cycle and whether or not I have severe cramping or get excessively thirsty.

I was ushered into a tiny room to wait for the doctor. Now, here's what I just don't understand. They're always (at least in my experience) telling you to "just relax" all through this very unnatural procedure involving metal forceps and other rather large torture devices. So, to achieve this goal, they stick you in a tiny room where the temperature is just above the freezing point and tell you to remove all of your clothes. They give you a gown that feels as if another couple of washings just might disintegrate the thing, and a paper covering, and then . . . . they leave you alone with your thoughts. I'm not sure how long I sat in that little ice box of a room, trying unsuccessfully to huddle under a paper blanket about the size of a hand towel. But I believe this experience alone may have convinced me once and for all to stop having babies.

I should point out that I actually really like my OB and the nurse that assists him, and have known them both well for quite some time. So it didn't turn out too badly. It's the anticipation that kills me. (and the cold)

After that, the day got decidedly better. I picked up the kiddos from Grandma's house, and since Rachel was taking the bus to school with a friend, we didn't have to worry about rushing back home, so we all went to a local park and drank frappucinos. I let the kids drink about half of mine before I remembered it was full of caffeine. Needless to say, no one took a nap except Malachi.

All in all, not a bad day. Truth be told, I'd take a "6-week" appointment over a visit to the dentist any day.

Perspective

It was one of those days. Whining. Fighting. Arguing. Spankings. Crying. Screaming. More spankings (After trying many "alternative methods" of discipline, I went back to doing it the old-fashioned way when the kiddos actually began requesting the other forms of discipline). Pooping. Snotting. More crying (me this time!).

Malachi had spent much of the night awake and crying, until I finally got up and fed him around 4:30, so I started the day exhausted, which never bodes well for any of us. I tried not to panic over the sink full of dirty dishes; the unreturned phone calls; the mountain of laundry waiting to be washed and the other mountain of laundry waiting to be folded and put away; the bathroom that badly needed cleaning; the kitchen and dining room floors waiting to be swept.

Rachel whined for 30 minutes because "Zeke keeps looking at me the wrong way." Zeke gleefully did everything he could to push her buttons.

While fixing breakfast, I turned around to see Karis jamming a drinking straw down onto Malachi's head. Just after breakfast, she pooped in her underwear. A little later, I heard Malachi's crying (nothing unusual) turn into terrified, muffled screams. I ran into the living room to find Karis covering his nose and mouth with her hand, squeezing as hard as she could. Oh yeah - she had just been down in the basement eating play dough and smashing it into her clothes.

At this point, I have to be honest, I sent her to her room simply to prevent myself from hurting her. In fact, I left everyone upstairs and fled to the basement for a few minutes to catch my breath and regain a little sanity. At the risk of every one of you realizing that I truly am a sorry excuse for a mother and a human being at times like these, I confess that in that moment, although I loved them dearly, I didn't have a whole lot of fond feelings for my own children - or my lot in life, for that matter.

And that's when I found the link to a site, via my friend Kati, about a little baby girl named Audrey Caroline. I only had time to read for a few minutes, but later, when a couple of the kiddos were napping, I had a chance to come back and read some more - enough to make me cry more than I have in months. Enough to remind me what a gift each one of my children is - a gift and a miracle. If you haven't visited this site already, you've got to stop by and soak in the incredible faith of this family who has been through more pain in the past several months than many people experience in a lifetime.

I opened the door to the bedroom Karis shares with her older brother and sister, got into bed with her and laid there, just stroking her hair and telling her how much I loved her. I doubt she heard me or will ever remember my words, but I needed to say them. Her eyes fluttered open and she sleepily snuggled up to me as I kissed her warm cheek and realized I'm thankful for the chaos, because it means having her, and each one of them, in my life.

I can't say things have gone just wonderfully since yesterday; but I can say that I've held each of the kids a little longer. Loved on them a little more. Thanked God for entrusting to me these 4 precious souls. So thank you, Kati, for passing the story on. And thank you, Lord Jesus, for reminding me that I am, indeed, blessed.

Below are a few pictures that I couldn't resist sharing:

Karis discovered my just-opened can of ginger ale and proceeded to drink most of it.


Rachel loves to help out in the kitchen, even when I buy a bag full of more green beans than we could eat in a month.


About .5 seconds before Malachi toppled over into the bath water


Zekers and Kari Bou stopped dancing in the rain long enough to pose for a picture


The munchkins actually do like each other sometimes!