The boys

Those things they say...

Joel called us into the playroom this spring (around Easter). We walked in to find this:

But the comment he made...

"They are crucifying people to make soil. They're recycling!"


Perhaps we've talked a little too much about decompostion lately. If we ever go missing, please search the dirt pile in the backyard. Joel might be "recycling" us back there.

Constant

*I wrote this in February. Obviously its message is still applicable. In fact, Dan is in school for five weeks, so the consistency is even more evident.*

My father-in-law took Dan and I out for dinner last week. It was wonderful. While we were out eating, he made a comment about why he wanted to take us out for dinner (other than the fact that he rarely gets to see us and this was to celebrate our birthdays). He took just the two of us out, rather than the whole family to give us a break. With the kids around, we are constantly on duty. Our action and movements are constant. There is no break.

For some reason, that word stuck out to me: constant. I've pondered that word for a few days now and I've come to realize that perhaps that is what is unsettled in me lately. Everything is constant. We are always on duty. From the moment we get up in the morning until we crawl into bed at night, we are moving constantly. Feeding, cleaning, changing, calming, disciplining. Sometimes I feel like I am on a hamster wheel, running around and not getting anywhere. There are always hungry kids. The house is always in a state of disarray. The laundry is never finished. Kids constantly need help. Reminding kids to do their responsibilities. Attempting to get kids to go (and stay) asleep. Its never-ending. And that's just the parenting aspect of my life. Then, I also have a marriage to nurture, extended family to communicate with, and relationships with friends to uphold.

Lately, I've been feeling slightly overwhelmed. I'm not drowning under the responsibilities of being a wife and mother. But I feel like I'm constantly moving. There has been an absence of rest. My days are busy caring for kids, my nights have been restless.Then someone asks me to help, to volunteer, to be a part of a committee, to serve in some way...and I say no. I can't quite put my finger on why I don't want to. But I think I've figured it out. My life is full. I can't fit anything else in. And if I could, I wouldn't be doing something new. I want to be better at what I am already doing.

I would be consistent in getting out care group emails earlier in the week.
I would be in communication with the Barkmans more (and be a better liason between them and the church).
I would blog more.
I would teach Micah his letters and numbers (and be a bit more intentional about it).
I would mop my floors.
I would read with Joel, or rather have Joel read to me.
I would do more Lent activities with the boys. The ideas are there, the motivation is lacking.
I would cook more meals (rather than defaulting that to Dan).
I would go for more nature walks.
I would sign my boys up for swim lessons.

I know there is more. Part of my problem is the constant demands of family. I get started on something and then I hear the tears of a child. Or I'm overwhelmed by the daily to-do list and don't know where to start (or sadly, can't remember what it is I'm supposed to be doing).
The other problem is motivation. I am so dang tired that I can't be bothered to do these things. When the kids are in bed, and Dan and I are done the daily duties for the day, we collapse on the couch. I can't be bothered to plan things, to blog, to do the things I want/need to do. I'm too tired. My brain just needs to stop. To breathe. To rest.

We've had some busy evenings lately and I can tell. My demeanor is down. Our marriage needs to be dusted off. Its not that its bad. It just hasn't been taken care of. We need to connect again. (and now that Dan isn't sick and the risk of germ transfer has lessened, I'm willing to take that risk). We need to tackle that to do list, but relaxation is more important. We've driven ourselves into the ground and we both know our limit. Life is constant.

We've had some long sleepless nights lately. I can tell. My caffeine intake has almost doubled.  I enjoyed a short nap during church (sorry Chris). My brain feels foggy and jumbled. I'm short in patience and quick to anger. My eyes feel heavy. My body feels slow. I crave sweets and comfort food. And a nap. Oh, how I could use a nap. I miss getting more than two hours of consecutive sleep. I miss waking up to see a six on my alarm clock. Life is constant.

The consistency of life is getting to us. We know what we need. A few good nights sleep. A few days of restful activities. A walk outdoors. A sunny day. A short break. Date night.

We know those things will come. But until they do, we have become masters of 'making do.' We will pair down the activities. We will do the bare minimum to make it through the day until our bodies have rested and are ready to tackle the next project. We will motor through those long nights, praying for rest. Our life is constant.

The hardest place to parent a child

A friend asked me, "Where is the hardest place to be a parent?"


I didn't have to think long about it. Church. You see, church is a place where we are expected to sit still and be quiet. Two things that don't come easily to kids....especially my kids. The hard part for me, as a parent, is dealing with the judging eyes. The whispers. The "why can't she control her kids?"


You see, at a grocery store or any public place for that matter, if the kids act out or throw a tantrum, the likelihood of seeing those judging eyes again are slim. But at church, we see the same people week after week. The same people who had a problem with our kids last week, will probably have a problem with us again this week.


But as time has gone on, I've realized that there are less and less of those judging eyes. Most of the judgement I thought I was receiving was fictional. There are still some people who wonder about our parenting. But they are far and few between. Most people don't care that our kids make a little noise. Or move around. Or act silly or (God-forbid) act like children.


Almost three summers ago while in church, Dan and I overheard a comment that blessed us so deeply. It was meant to be whispered from a Father to his daughter. We cannot remember this man's exact words. But the sentiment cut us to the core. We have mulled this comment over since that summer, not able to process it completely. I think it will remain as one of those pivotal comments that changed how we parent and how we feel about parenting. The comment goes something like this: "I'm pretty sure that God prefers kids not to sit still and be quiet. I'm pretty sure he wants them to move around and be kids."


Something along the lines of "Let the little children come to me." Something that was picturesque in the story books and even my imagination growing up. But the reality is completely different. Kids are crazy, unpredictable and loud. I can imagine pushing and shoving. I can imagine giggling and screeching. I imagine running and skipping. All those things that aren't necessarily welcome in church. But oddly enough, Jesus says, "Let the screaming, running, shoving, loud, obnoxious, excited, giggly children come to me."  And what this gentleman was saying was the exact same thing. He wants those same children to come to church. To be childlike.

Oddly enough, the hardest place to parent has become the best place to parent. We are five years into this parenting gig and are just starting to appreciate the complexities of it all.  Five years ago, we were worried that our cooing baby would be distracting to others around us. Now, we realize that our children are welcomed into our church. We have come to appreciate that our children, our loud, obnoxious, clambering all over the place, kicking the seat in front of us, children are welcome in church. We have stayed at this church, because we know our children are welcome. We make a point of coming to church every week knowing that we are welcome. We have been blessed by our community.

There was an older gentleman, who has since passed away, who would sit behind our family every week. He fell in love with our kids and would intentionally come to church to see our children. He was very purposeful in his actions. Every week, he made sure to pull me aside and say the exact same thing to me. Words that resonated with me. Words that encouraged me. Words that challenged me. Words that I still hear every week as I take a seat in church. When I look at his daughter, I hear those words. When I see the empty spot where she usually sits, I hear those words.  "You are a good mom." Simple words that became a mantra of sorts. Words that got me through those tough days. Words that affirmed who I was, rather than what was being seen by the outside world. On those days when I sat embarrassed and ashamed at my children's behaviour, I felt loved and affirmed.  Church still can be the hardest place to parent. But it is also the most joyous and encouraging. Church is no longer a place I dread going to for fear of what my children will do. Church has become a place that we long for. That we need. That we come to for love and encouragement.

Our children come to be themselves. We come to be ourselves. Its a messy, loud, exciting place. A place we are welcomed. A place we like to call home.

Those things they say...#2

Joel: Knife starts with the sound "Nnnnn" but the government says it has to start with the letter K. The government is so silly.

Hehehe! Dang you government!

Those things they say...

Dan walked into the bathroom to find Joel curled up on the floor, cuddling a roll of toilet paper.
Dan asks, "What are you doing?"
Joel replies, "I love this toilet paper. Please use this one next!"

Who's who?

A                        B                         C

Can you guess which child is which?

(oddly enough, these pictures make it super easy for me, unlike other pictures. But oddly enough, finding pictures of all three kids looking similar is very difficult.)

Caleb's 1st Birthday

Caleb Elijah

Stats

 21 lbs 2 oz. 

(the lightest at 1 year, Joel was 21 lbs 4 oz and Micah was 22 lbs 4oz)

75 cm long 

(the shortest at 1 year, Joel was 76.5 cm and Micah was 80 cm)

Eat

Almost anything. Loves scrambled eggs for breakfast. Cheese, yogurt, apple sauce, popcorn, carrots, cucumber, chicken and crackers are his favorite. Prefers to eat things that he can feed himself with.

Sleep

 Yep, he does that!  He naps 1-2 times a day. The first nap is usually only 15 minutes in the car dropping Joel off at school or running errands. The second nap is 2-3 hours in length. He goes to bed between 6:30 and 7 pm and will wake up around 6-6:30 am. On a good night, he'll only wake up once or twice. Weeks will go by and he'll wake up at the same two times every night (lately its been 12:30 and 3:30). Other nights, he'll be awake every 1.5-2 hours. Usually that means he's teething or has a cold. Some nights, he decides that he wants to party for an hour or two in the middle of the night. In an attempt to 'sleep,' we pull him into the bed between us where he sucks his fingers and rubs his fingers along the sheet. He usually falls asleep within an hour or two and we transfer him back to bed.  Oddly enough, he is still our best sleeper.

Play

Caleb loves his walker and is pretty lethal on that thing. He runs around the house and sometimes even into you. He copies almost everything his brothers play. He loves Duplo, breaking train tracks, opening and closing the barn door, and his musical instruments. Caleb loves singing along when Micah or Joel plays guitar. He also loves pulling out the nightlight in his room, licking the bathroom scale and trying to flush the toilet. He enjoys pulling Micah's hair and being teased and tickled through the banister. He does not like the door closed and tries to open them on his own (he's not quite tall enough).

Clothes

Mostly in 12 months clothes. Although I just pulled out some 18-24 months shirts and will soon have to pull out some 18 months sleepers. Your slippers are 12-24 months size and your shoes are size 3. You wear size 4 diapers.

Development

Caleb is mostly walking. He loves walking between two people (its his favorite game). He still crawls whenever he falls down, but is frequently standing up to try walking again. Caleb is babbling a lot saying the ba, da and ma sounds. He copies Micah and tries to scream, spit or blow bubbles.  He can sign 'more.' I learnt that one night when he was supposed to be sleeping between Dan and I. He signed more and then punched me in the nose. Repeatedly. Until I told Dan to hold his hand down so he'd stop. Caleb is the first of our children to stop doing something when we say 'no.' Unless it has to do with an electrical outlet. Then, he could care less. But for the most part, he will stop touching things he's not supposed to when we say so.

Caleb, there is a reason we call you our cupcake baby. You certainly are sweet. The icing on top! You have confirmed that its not our parenting skills that are the problem. Your brothers have different temperaments that don't fall into the textbook of raising children. You, on the other hand, are a textbook baby. You are developing at a semi-normal rate and doing things that most babies do. We've had to go back and read those parenting books that we threw out when Joel was born, just to figure out whats going on with you. You are a blessing and we love you!

Pondering and treasuring things in my heart

This year, we took an unintentional break from blogging. Sometime early in the throws of newborness, blogging took to the back burner. I had intentions of starting up again, requests even! But somehow life got in the way. Blogging became less of a priority. Sometime in early September, as we adjusted to have a kindergartener, I realized that I was choosing to take a year off of blogging. A maternity leave of sorts. It gave me the freedom to finish off 2015 without worrying or stressing over blogging, giving me another four months to adjust to life before blogging again.  Now, a year after Caleb is born, I hope to return.

2015 was a year I wanted to savour. Having what could possibly be our last child, I wanted to savour those newborn days. I wanted to "ponder these things and treasure them up in my heart," just like Mary did after the birth of Jesus. I wanted to remember. 

I want to remember how when Caleb was a newborn, he hate being naked and would scream loudly. But as soon as you put even just one sock on, he would calm down. 

I want to remember how we got to dream feed him (third baby's the charm!). We would gently wake him up to feed him right before Dan and I went to bed. We could feed him in the living room with all the lights on. But my favorite part and the part I desperately want to remember, is when I was done feeding him, Dan would put him over his shoulder and carry him down the hall to bed. Caleb would peek his little eyes open and occasionally give a slight smile, while being carried away. Dan would lay him in bed and walk away. The look he gives me every night is precious. The fact that we can lay him down and walk away is miraculous. 

I want to remember how when Caleb started solids, he would always give us a sour face. Even if he like the food he was eating, he would make a face. He did this every day, at every feeding until he was ten months old!

I want to remember how Caleb sucks his fingers. He always sucks the middle finger and ring finger on his left hand.

I want to remember how dramatic he is. When with a stranger, he may cried inconsolably. But as soon as he is back in my arms, he will stop. With one deep breath, his crying will cease. I call it my magic trick. It annoys Dan when Caleb does it to him. Caleb will cry for ten minutes in Dan's arms, but immediately once in my arms, he will stop. Not a few seconds after being in my arms, I'm talking the very instant. Its hilarious!

I want to remember the relationship Caleb has with Joel and Micah. I want to remember how Joel can stop Caleb from crying just by looking at him. Or how Caleb loves playing with and pulling Micah's hair. I want to remember how Caleb looks as Joel carries him down the hall. Always with a huge smile!

I want to remember that the only way to check to see if Caleb is getting any new teeth is to check when he is screaming. Even then, its difficult. That's why this morning, while at the grocery store, I took the opportunity to check out his new teeth while Caleb screamed in the produce aisle. (For the record, he's got 4 new eye teeth and an impacted molar on the way).

I want to remember these things and so much more. So I have pondered and treasured these things. I have stored these memories in my heart. I have savoured each moment as it happens. These little things are what make him unique. And my goal was to remember them. And I have.

So, I took the year off away from the blog. To rest. To enjoy my family. To ponder and treasure. But I will hopefully be back. We've got a fresh new look, a new little one to blog about, and hopefully a few stories to share. Let's journey together and walk through life's adventures.

The World According to Micah

Dan: Micah, did you poop?
Micah: No!
Dan: Then what's this brown stuff in your diaper?
Micah: Sand!