The middle child...

You know that phrase "good thing you're cute?" I say that (and think that) constantly about my little terror, ahem, I mean, middle child! I should have known at his birth that this was not going to be easy. He was probably the easiest pregnancy, labor, and delivery a mother could have hoped for. But boy by two weeks old I KNEW I had an adventure on my hands. And now? Well, I just NEED to write down a few things he's done in the last couple weeks so I don't forget these hilarious toddler events, albeit at the time they occurred I may not have laughed...

~Today at lunch we're sitting there eating our randomness, with my Harry Connick Jr./ Micheal Buble' pandora station playing in the living room (not that we could hear it, or so I thought). So there we are, chomping on celery and leftover bread sticks and Evan stops chewing, looks at me like he's really thinking, and yells out "wephomph!" Finish chewing and try again. "Nemo!" He gets down and runs to the living room and then starts crying and flailing and carrying on because Nemo was NOT on the tv. BUT, no thanks to Micheal Booby, 'Somewhere Beyond the Sea' WAS playing. (Which is the credit score for Finding Nemo in case you haven't watched it twenty times like some people.) Problem is it's only at my dad's. Arghh....

~Evan has gotten very temperamental about Luke talking to him. Or singing to him. Or looking at him.
"Don't. Talk. Me!"  "Don't. Sing. Me!"  "No! Me! Talk!" I do believe his first correct sentence was
 "He- hit-me!" Ok, I did discipline Luke for that one. But come on, kid, your brother is allowed to talk.

~ We've had our fair, scratch that, UNFAIR, share of colds this winter. At one time last month I was doping them up on meds three times a day- Luke for cough, Evan for congestion, and I came in one morning to find the medicine cabinet open and all the cough syrup drunk. At first I panicked...I'm an awful mom, how had I left a cap only partially screwed on? Am I going to have to have Evan's stomach pumped?? Then I realized there was only like a third of a bottle left in there, so...eh, he'll be fine right? At least he won't cough. Phew. Crisis averted. The stinkin' kid LOVES medicine! I have to force it down Luke's throat and then Evan just goes and guzzles it like juice? Oy.

He has also been known to: Eat toothpaste right out of the bottle. Climbed up on the counters to get into the peanut butter jar (which he told me happily after I came downstairs and found the remains on his cheeks and sleeves). Also chocolate truffles. Also has marker-ed on the walls, curtains, and futon cover. Of course himself too. (P.S. did you know those magic erasers thingies take marker off walls?! Give that inventor a treat!).

But then he wins over my heart every day with his little eyelashes, his little sentences and the way he says things. Falling down in what looks like a catastrophic way and then getting up and yelling "Ta-da!" like he meant to do that! The way he says "Ratatouille" (his new favorite movie). And 'wasp'...sounds like 'whops'. The way his little arms always get stuck when he's trying to get his shirt off. The way he looks for something and then says 'there i- is' when he finds it. "That's siwwy." He'll sneak up on me and then roar "ah-ha-ha"...

Love that little man.

(p.s. 1 in these photos, he's 2 1/2 now, but I just love these!)

Perspective

As the creepy old food critic guy in 'Ratatouille' so rightly demands, "I would like some fresh perspective. If you can give me that, I will go away a happy man." Or something like that.

Sometimes that's what we need. Nothing earth shattering, just summer squash prepared in a slightly different manner. Something that can make us stop and reflect, and be better for it. Here are a few such instances that have occurred for me in the last month or so. There's no plot or connection, just true stories to freshen up your spirit...

Perspective 1: Several weeks ago in a Bible study I attend, several of us young moms were going around the prayer group divulging our felt yet untrue failings as moms. "I'm so overwhelmed." "Please pray I have the self control to not yell at my kids!" "My son has some discipline issues I need wisdom with." You get the idea. Now I will say the one thing I love most about this group of ladies is the diversity. I'd say 25-85 is the age range, with everything in between. Our dear eighty-something member, who I'll call Mae just because I want this to be confidential, pipes up after a few of our 'please pray that I don't pull my hair out' rants. This is what she told us, with tears running down her sweet cheeks:

"I truly hope you won't be offended when I say you girls have it so good. Your kids have it so good! My mother told me everyday I was growing up that she didn't want me, that I was a mistake. I would come home from school and she'd be drunk. She used to beat me in her drunken rages with a cat-a-nine-tails. When I got my first job I would bring home my pay check and it went straight to her and I only got to keep any cents leftover. I do remember when I was about 16 I wanted to go out with a girlfriend somewhere. I asked my mother if I could go and she lost it (she had been drinking). I finally got up the courage to stand up to her so I sat on the couch and put my legs straight out so she couldn't get me. She never whipped me after that. I came to Christ two decades later, but it still took me longer than that to forgive my mother. You girls LOVE your children. And your children love you! Yes there are days you're not going to like and times when your kids are driving you nuts, but overall there is love in your homes!"

Perspective 2: At the playground today (thank you God it was nice enough to go outside!) we started at the wooden castle, then went on to the tot lot, and finally we checked out the blue playground just to get them all in...it has been forever! So as we head over to the blue one, I notice a group of handicapped men and women in the pavilion next to the play area. As I observe it seems there are 4-5 young women my age-ish taking care of severely handicapped people ranging in age from about 20-50  (about 5 of them). One of the young men who I'd say was 20 but had the intelligence of a 3 or 4 year old came to play with Luke and Evan. I asked the woman watching him what their group was and she said she's part of a day care program for disabled people to give their parents/ caregivers a break  (Supportive Concepts is what the agency is called). Extreme cases of autism, mental handicaps, Down's, as well as severe physical disabilities are what they specialize in. All I could think was 'wow- what a job'! I am so blessed to have healthy children, and I feel ashamed to complain about their simple colds when there are so many families out there (and I know several) that have disabled children to attend to on top of everything else. I made a point to show Luke the wheelchairs and to tell him that some people can't use their legs and arms or their brains like we do, but that God loves them just the same. I know he probably didn't understand or take much notice, but I pray he grows up with a heart of love for everyone God made, even, like Jesus said, "the least of these."

Perspective 3: I recently watched October Baby (and was a crying mess). I don't want to spoil it if you haven't seen it. Please watch it and you will be refreshed with how God can indeed work his healing into the most painful circumstances we humans can experience. It made me want to hug my babies a bit harder, and a bit longer, and tell them I love them a bit more often.

And when I screw up, God's always there, whispering in my tears: "I forgive you."


That's it for now.  Enjoy these beautiful summer-is-really-coming days!