The Joy of Three Boys

Because sometimes you need to start over . . .

noreply@blogger.com (Joy) — Mon, 07 Feb 2011 03:53:00 +0000

So, I haven't done much blogging these days.
The reasons are varied, and some of the reasons aren't reasons at all.
They are excuses. Plain and simple.
And while I have let blogging get away from me, I haven't gotten away from it.
It lurks in every blue sky day.
In every amazing thing my boys say.
It haunts every take-my-breath-away moment, and asks "how would you write this . . ." in the ordinary ones.
I want to write about everything . . . and then, when I don't, I have blogging guilt.
Blogging guilt. Really? What the . . . ?
Some psychologist out there is thinking, "Hmmmmm . . ."
It's a whole new genre of pathology.
Who am I kidding? Psychologists are not reading this blog.
Enough of that.
I guess I just got to a point where I wasn't enjoying the ride. I focused on the pressure of producing something every day, or close to it. Of recording every moment. The joy ran out of it, so to speak.
But I miss the writing.
I miss it, and I feel like I've lost myself a bit without it.
And I want to enjoy the ride. Life is too short not to.
So, with . . . more realistic expectations? I will gingerly, and without rash promises ("I will blog every moment of every day for the rest of my life until my dying breath!!") reenter the blogosphere.
The thing is, I'm not content with the look here . . . and I am trying to figure out what to do about it.
In the meantime, I thought I'd try things out over here. I will keep this space too, and if I ever figure out how to make it amazing, I may be back.
I am excited about the move. I feel like I need to change a lot of things about myself and my life, and this is a symbolic shift of sorts.
Sometimes, you just need to start over . . . .

But I digress . . .

noreply@blogger.com (Joy) — Thu, 02 Sep 2010 14:58:00 +0000

I know I am supposed to be working on a "catch up" post.
And I am.
I think more went on this summer than I thought, and I'm still collecting photos and stories and memories to record here. For posterity.
But I want to write about today.
Today, the sun is shinning. Not just shinning, but gleaming off pavement still wet from last night's rain.
Today, I sip coffee just warm enough to feel like my insides are wrapped up in a cozy blanket. Irish cream.
Today, I listen to the sounds of students coming to this class and going to that one. I think about my boys in their classrooms. All of them. All learning new things, maybe even right now, this moment. A new seed planted. A discovery made. Eyes opened a bit wider to the world out there.
Daniel is in preschool this year. He loves it. I love it too, but I miss my little man! I offered to let him stay home today, just because. "Are my friends gonna come over?" he asked, before committing to anything. "No. They'll go to class with Miss Patti." He looked at me with that, "I love ya, mom, but my life is calling" look and chose preschool. Who can blame him? There are songs and centers and friends and good snacks and books and Miss Patti and lots of cool things to learn and play with at preschool. "Wellllll . . . I'm gonna go to school," he decided.
The hesitation in his voice warmed my heart.
I usually walk him in to school in the mornings, and hang around a bit to make sure he's doing well (he is only three, after all). Last week, on a morning he was feeling particularly confident, he turned to me as soon as we walked in and said, "Mom, you can get my jacket from the other building." "Oh, okay. I will get your jacket and be right back," I said cheerily. I thought he must be cold. "No, mom." he replied. And in a kind whisper he said, "You can leave this place now."
It was his way of letting me know he was okay. His way of telling me it was okay to go. And it was done with such tact for a three year old, don't you think?
And so, I kissed him, and walked out into the warm morning.
They get big so fast.
And while there is great satisfaction in watching them grow, it stings a bit too.
Daniel in preschool is just one of the ways life is changing, moving around here.
I feel like, lately, everything is.
Change is good.
It brings growth and opportunities.
But dang; it sure is hard sometimes.
One thing I have been reminded of lately, though, is that no matter what earthly things may change, God never does. There is no shadow of turning in him. He is a rock. A fortress. A God in whom we can trust.
The sun comes through the trees. Makes leafy patterns on the floor, the wall that leap and move and dance and . . . change. But, the sun. The sun is right where it always has been, and in its light, the beautiful patterns play.

Gearing up

noreply@blogger.com (Joy) — Mon, 30 Aug 2010 15:12:00 +0000

The dust is settling a bit around here, and I think it is time to get back to blogging.
This summer will forever be referred to by me as "the lost summer".
But, sometimes we have to lose things to gain other things; and so, at the end of this "lost" summer, we have a lovely place to come home to and to share with family and friends, a working knowledge of home improvement (I'm telling ya, I think I could do a segment on HGTV by now . . ."And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you give your old cabinets a new finish!), a renewed sense that we did not, in fact, miss our calling to be contractors, and peace of mind that my mom will be cared for in her widowhood.
There is so much to say, so many stories to tell and things to share. It will take me a while to catch up. I have already begun a post which gives a little more detail about our summer. It will be forthcoming.
No, really. It will.
Blogging makes me feel alive. Helps me remember all the good things in my life. Gives me focus and sense of perspective that I seem to lose when I am not writing. I have missed it, and I am happy to be back in the blogosphere!
What makes you feel alive?

Good days . . .

noreply@blogger.com (Joy) — Mon, 07 Jun 2010 16:08:00 +0000

Summer break is rolling on.
We've had beautiful weather! Skies so blue they make you ache for them to stay that way forever. Hot sun seeping into your bones, warming your skin.
I had a great weekend.
We worked pretty long and hard on mom's house last week, and it is almost ready for her to move downstairs. Then, we can finish remodeling upstairs (I still have four rooms to paint, two carpets to replace and a bathroom that needs to be redone . . . and plenty of finishing touches and odds and ends) and can settle in.
Mom, the boys and I took some time off on Saturday to bring our friend, David, to the airport. The drive up was pleasant enough. We dropped David off and headed out for a Kansas City adventure!
Our first stop was Whole Foods. I don't know if you've ever been to a Whole Foods or not, but it is worth the experience!! We shopped a bit, picking out exotic and organic fare. Then we ate at the cafe', which was full of international delights as well as happily recognizable foods. We ate stone baked pizza, Roma style -- pepperoni for the boys and sun-dried tomato and chicken pesto for mom and I. Absolutely delish! And the portion was so big, one piece was enough to fill me up.
One of my favorite things I got while there is Living Basil. Grown locally, living basil is two basil plants, root systems and all, that you place in a container of shallow water and set on your counter and viola'!! Fresh basil anytime!! We got one for grandpa too. It fills the kitchen with that earthy, slightly minty scent, and it drives me wild! I want to put fresh basil on . . . everything!
I am thinking I need to take another trip there soon!
Once we were full and weighted down with goodies to bring home, we moved on to Boarders Books. Ahhhhh. When I walk into a bookstore like that, I literally have one of those sky-parting-and-glorious angel-voices-ringing-out experiences! Seriously. I have to catch my breath. Books, books and more books! I could die happy in a bookstore.We took our time and looked around. Isaac got two new books he was wanting. Josiah got a Percy Jackson action figure of Zeus (he is very excited that he will be studying the ancient Greeks and Romans in history next year, and is eating that kind of stuff up! He took a child's version of The Odyssey out of the library last week, and he told me he wants a Roman room, complete with pillars! He also composed a letter to the Lego company asking if they will design a Mt. Olympus Lego set with mini figs of all the gods and other heroic mythological characters. He thinks it would be fun to have it in his classroom and just plain cool to own!). Daniel got a set of The Farmer in the Dell stacking cards. The farmer is on a tractor on the first card, and he loves it! He can sing the song well, too.
I got a couple of books, one of which was a copy of Pearl S. Buck's The Good Earth, which I have never read, but have always wanted to. It was $3.99!! You just gotta love that!
After dragging me out of that store (I still have carpet fibers under my fingernails!!), we went on to Vintage Stock, a buy/sell/trade store that sells music, movies and video games, and I was able to get Joe's Father's Day gifts there. One gift is something he has been wanting for a long time, so I am pretty excited about it.
With a long drive ahead of us, we packed back into the car and headed for home . . . with a pit stop at Dunkin' Donuts for an iced coconut coffee and some munchkins for the road, of course! Yum!!
I usually get lost on the way home from the airport, but thanks to a friend's gps and my son, Isaac, we made it back without a hitch. Isaac was a tremendous navigator. Calm and calculating, he would say in his even tone, "Mom, you want to get over one because this is an exit only lane, and this is not the exit you want." or "Mom. You need to be on the right because the next exit is the one you want." Even when I was nervous and second guessing the directions, white-knuckled and hunched up over the steering wheel, he remained cool and never changed his matter-of fact, certain tone. I told him later that it made me feel good to know that he was going to be "that guy" who will be able assess and anticipate a situation, and will know just what to do.
We got home and the boys still had enough daylight to go for a swim before dinner. I threw some chicken nuggets, fries and fish sticks in the oven, but I still was not hungry from that piece of pizza I had at Whole Foods, so I snacked on crusty, chewy Italian peasant bread with fresh basil leaves and a little seasoned e.v.o.o. (extra virgin olive oil).
It was a near perfect day. The only thing that could have made it perfect perfect was if Joe had been with us. He had to work that night, and stayed in town to get stuff done at mom's and sleep before his shift. I kinda like him, so I miss him bunches when he is not around.
Yesterday was another bright, sunny day, and we had a house-full after church. All the kids got into the pool, and there was lots of laughing all around. We had a grand time.
After everyone left, Mom and I went birthday shopping for Daniel, who will be three on Friday.
Really?
Three?
I can remember every second of having him so vividly. Now, he is potty training and learning to swim and talking up storms and getting ready for pre-school.
It goes too fast, I'm telling you.
And I've had those bad days . . . the ones where you think, "If we can just make it to five, five will be a better age . . . "
But really, I don't want time to fly any faster than it already is. I am soaking up the moments. Trying to memorize Daniel's two-going-on-three baby face; the sweet, sweet sound of his voice; the feel of the weight of him against my chest when I hold him; his baby bath smell.
As much as I know I am done having babies, there is an ache in knowing there will be no more two-going-on-three-year-olds after this.
So I hold him close and breathe him in. I listen to his stories and songs. We play trains on the floor and let the dishes in the sink be darned!
Trying to memorize him at this age makes me remember more and more my other boys at this age, too.
Being a mom is one of the best things that has ever happened to me!
Some funny potty training stories . . . one of the first days we had big boy undies on Daniel, he came running out to me from the other room, clutching himself and chanting, "My pee-pee's leaking! My pee-pee's leaking!" And yesterday, when he was sitting on the potty before leaving for the store, he was trying and trying but just didn't have to go. "Mom, it's not working right now . . . " he explained. He makes me smile. He makes me giggle. He makes me laugh out loud.
The training is going well. It has it's ups and downs, but I think Daniel is doing a stellar job!
Today, it is storming. I woke up to thunder and lightning and canceled swim lessons. Boo.
There is VBS this week. Isaac is too old to go as a participant this year (dear Lord, can he just stop growing for a minute?!), but he is helping out as one of the crew leaders. The week will end with a pot luck and family prayer time.
We are also looking forward to Daniel's birthday on Friday.
And, as always, we will be plugging away at the house.
I love the summer.
I love tall glasses of pink lemonade, sipped with friends. I love the blue cool of pool water and hot streaks of sun. I love the coconutty smell of sunscreen. I love the possibility . . . the having to decide, what to do today? I love the fresh berries warm from vines and bushes. And salads right out of the garden. I love the long days. The purple haze twilights. The grasshopper's meloncholy symphony at close of day.
I leave you with this poem I came across yesterday, and fell in love with. The sound of crickets takes me back . . . . And this is a Keats I am not familiar with. I am so glad I found it now.

28. On the Grasshopper and Cricket


THE POETRY of earth is never dead:
When all the birds are faint with the hot sun,
And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run
From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead;
That is the Grasshopper’s—he takes the lead	5
In summer luxury,—he has never done
With his delights; for when tired out with fun
He rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed.
The poetry of earth is ceasing never:
On a lone winter evening, when the frost	10
Has wrought a silence, from the stove there shrills
The Cricket’s song, in warmth increasing ever,
And seems to one in drowsiness half lost,
The Grasshopper’s among some grassy hills. December 30, 1816.

Do the next thing . . .

noreply@blogger.com (Joy) — Sat, 05 Jun 2010 14:52:00 +0000

My grandmother was a meticulous housewife, a pastor's wife, a mom of four, and later an active grandmother and great-grandmother who always thought ahead to have little treats and projects on hand for the kids to have and do when they came to her house. She did it all, and she did it all well.
Grandma lived by a simple yet effective principle. As an adult, when I would be feeling overwhelmed with housework and raising kids and running errands and contributing to our church and just . . . everything, I would call her and rattle off my list with dismay, and a big sigh at the end. Her answer was the same every time. "Just do the next thing, " she would calmly say. "And when that is done, do the next thing."
So simple.
What a great help that was to me many a day. There were days I could not face everything I had to do, but I certainly could face the next thing.
And more often than not, the days I worked out of the "do the next thing" principle were my most productive days, and I really did get through everything on my list, with time to spare!
With summer break officially underway, and the boys at home needing something to do seemingly every moment; with a large and ongoing remodeling project on my hands and a house to pack up; with new classes to teach in the fall and a brain that is already lesson planning for next school year, it is safe to say there are days that I feel completely overwhelmed.
And I want to reach for the phone. To call gram and hear her voice say, "Just do the next thing . . ."
Or to let her know that I hear her voice in my ear, and it helps me make it through. It helps me do the next thing.
Unfortunately, blogging has been my next, next, next thing on the list lately, which is why it's been several weeks of silence here.
But believe me, life has certainly been going on behind the scenes!!!
Mostly, I am working on our new house. Right now, plans are to be moving in with mom by August 1st. But I have made sure there is still time to sit outside with the kids and enjoy some simple summer fun!!

Daniel will be three in one week . . .a little less actually. I can't believe how time is flying. We are potty training and he is doing fairly well.
The other night, as he was going to bed, he commented to me that one of his boo-boos was going away and his skin was growing back. He was amazed at that, and asked why his boo-boo was going away. "Our skin heals, and regenerates." I said.
"Why?" he asked (yes, we are in that stage).
"Because that is how God made it." I answered.
"God made it that way?! Why? Because he loves me?!"
"Yes! He loves you very much!"
He was quiet for a moment and got a big grin on his face and said, "God is the best boy!"
Gosh, I love this age!
All the potty training frustrations and two-going-on-three year old crazy boy antics are so definitely worth that!!
Speaking of potty training . . . Daniel pooped on the potty the other day!! He walked into the bathroom, locked the door (which I promptly jimmied) and told me upon breaking in to the bathroom, "No, mom. I'm okay. I'll call you."
So, I left, and stood on the other side of the door, wondering at this little man who all of a sudden just decided to do this thing . . . and he did! He called me and there it was. A poop in the potty!! We danced and yelled out whoops of joy and gave him a whole dang bag of M&M's to do with as he pleased.
We were so proud of him.
Yesterday, he wore undies all day successfully.
See. I am so not a pusher on potty training. And when they are ready, it happens. No stress and pulling out of the hair and cleaning mess after mess. Just this wondering at your baby taking one more step away from baby-ness into . . . kid-hood.
So . . . I am off to the next thing, which happens to be a large pile of laundry that is threatening to animate and eat us all in a gory display . . . wish me luck.

Wacky Week

noreply@blogger.com (Joy) — Sat, 08 May 2010 04:13:00 +0000

It is a tradition at our school that the week before the last week of school is a "wacky week." This means that the seniors get to decide the dress code for each day that week, and plan a school activity.
This year, there were pirates vs. ninjas on Monday . . .
My boys?
Argggg, mateys. Pirates, of course!

Tuesday was buddy day. Each of our grammar school kids has a buddy in the upper grades. There was no crazy dress code that day, but all the kids had a field day with their buddies. It started off with a chapel together and there were outdoor activities like a scavenger hunt, a balloon toss, a game of capture the flag, and a picnic lunch. During the afternoon, all the kids had popcorn and watched Planet 51.
Daniel rode his tractor all around the school grounds, happy as could be. That boy is happiest on a John Deere. He just is.

Wednesday was pajama day, and we had the pizza party for the winners of the writing and art contests.

Yesterday was wacky day. The wackier the get-up the better. Isaac went in "normal" clothes, because he figured on a day when everyone would be dressed in silly attire, the wackiest thing he could do was dress in plain ol' everyday duds.
My sweet Daniel stealing a kiss from me at my desk.

Today was 80's day.
Look at these guys . . . .

I went to high school with guys like this!

Talk about flashback . . .

Joe played "Born in the USA" for the boys at breakfast, to get them in the spirit of things for the day ahead. I was singing along, bobbing my head. They looked at us like we were crazy.
Daniel has been napless for four days now. Is it the end of naps for him? He gets so tired, but he hangs in there, though he's pretty cranked out around 5:30ish.

Now, wacky week is over. Our last week of school waits on the other side of this weekend.
And then.
Then, it will be SUMMER BREAK!!!
The long summer days will stretch out before us like promises no one has made to us yet.
I feel like a kid.
I can't wait!
Summer dreams fill my head . . . I wonder when we will see the first firefly . . . I imagine cook-outs with friends . . . I think about long trips and friendly visits and days spent at the park . . . I picture us reading out under our shade trees . . . and cutting through the sun-glazed blue pool water . . . I conjure the smell of the coconut oils in the gobs of sunscreen we will use . . .I can taste the countless glasses of icy sweet teas and lemonades . . .
Yes.
I am ready for Summer.

Lists . . .

noreply@blogger.com (Joy) — Mon, 03 May 2010 19:16:00 +0000

I'm a list person.
This means, I like to make endless lists of things to do, places to be, things to read or watch or listen to, meals to cook . . . the list goes on, you get the picture.
Lists are one way I keep the jumbled mess of information in my mind straight.
Lists are straight-forward.
Succinct.
Which is why I love verses like this one I read this morning:
"Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer." Romans 12:12
A list!
Believe it or not, the Bible is full of them.
And granted, while this list involves a bit more heart and soul work than just "feed the cats, make the beds, do the dishes . . . " it is still a simple set of instructions given by an equipping Father who does not leave us in the dark about what we are to do and how we are to live out our Christian lives.
These list items bring more than just cleanliness of home, but a clean spirit, they provide more than food for the table, but nourishment of the soul. There is not merely a sense of impermanent accomplishment with the ticking off of these "to dos", but rather a peace and wellness of heart, mind and body when we remember "to do" these things.
So . . . top of my "to do" list today?
Be joyful.
Be patient.

Be faithful.

What the sun does . . .

noreply@blogger.com (Joy) — Sun, 02 May 2010 02:12:00 +0000

after a stormy day, is this . . . .

Pink sky sunset. This is how yesterday made its exit. Stunning.

What the sun does after a stormy night, is this . . . .

Glory you can see. God's fingertips reaching down, touching earth with just a glimpse. Makes me giddy to witness. This gift. Heavens open. Split-second shekhinah.
Unfortunately, the sun made only this brief appearance today.
We had a school track meet which was met with a damp, cold rain most of the day.
All our kids were troopers, though, and most of them played through the weather.
Josiah and his good buddy Nathaniel were at it again, winning something together. I don't know . . . I'm starting to see a pattern here. These two seem to be born to win together. I really do believe there is a kindred spirit that they share.
Their first event was a three-legged race, and they worked together and crossed the finish line with speed and ease. It was so awesome to watch!
Josiah also participated in the running long jump, the 50 m dash and softball throw.
Isaac did the high jump, the 400 m and the shot put.I'm not sure yet how they placed in all their events. I think they both placed in everything they participated in though. We'll find out next week at school.
By the time we got home, we were chilled through, but some hot pasta e fagoli and tales of victory around the table at Grandpa's house were just what we needed to warm our bones.
Here are some pics from the day.

Our day was full, and long, but it was so good.
We are home now.

And we are warm. Inside and out.
The boys are eating oatmeal cookies and drinking hot cocoa.
There is sleep hanging like heavy curtains about to close in their eyes.
But there is something else too.
There is victory.
Accomplishment.
There are dreams which became memories which will be dreams again . . . in just a little while.

Stormy weather . . .

noreply@blogger.com (Joy) — Fri, 30 Apr 2010 15:53:00 +0000

(image not my own)

Early morning.
The coffee brews. I hear it dripping. Smell the earthy tones in it drifting my way.
I inhale slowly, a long breath that makes me close my eyes, lift my head, let out a sigh.
That first sip of coffee is like a kiss.
I look out the window at a storm brewing outside.
The sky is so dark. Layers of gray. The clouds could be mistaken for mountains rising from ancient mists. Olympus floating by.
Wind gusts. The trees dance . . .not a waltz, but a furious dance. Their new green leaves tremble.
Grass bows low, waving to the whimsy of the wind.
I do not know what will happen today. Or tomorrow.
I cannot guess what the future holds.
There is no planning now. No agenda. No place to be.
Just here. Sitting. Sipping coffee. Snuggling with my small waking son.
I watch the storm come.
But there is a peace that passes knowing it is out there.

I have been thinking a lot, lately, about my life.
About what is good in it.
It is a long list. One I will write down one day. . . soon.
Those good things, those blessings and magical moments, those Divine encounters . . . they are what anchor me.
They enable me to watch the storm with quiet eyes and calm heart.
They help me remember there are things bigger, longer-lasting than storms.
And so, playing in grandpa's backyard with the boys in the late afternoon sun yesterday, sitting on the porch and talking with grandpa, coming together around the table for our weekly family dinner, watching Daniel and his dad bond on a John Deere against a pinking sun-set, spying young strawberries waiting to ripe-- life in my neglected garden, finding a dewy-eyed Peter Rabbit near our blackberry bushes, listening to our boys prayers before they climbed into their beds . . . those things are what I am thinking of this morning as I watch through my window the dark skies gather outside and the grasses supplicate to a wild wind.

I draw Daniel close. I hear Joe working on things in the other room. I think of my boys at school across town.
I remember that He holds all things in His hands.
I take another sip.

Today . . .

noreply@blogger.com (Joy) — Thu, 29 Apr 2010 14:36:00 +0000

Today the cool breeze blows through our windows, sweeping around the house.
The curtains that frame our large living room window billow out like sails.
Daniel climbs up on the bench in front of them.
"This is my stage!" he says.

This spot in front of the big picture window has been one of his favorite places for a long time. Usually, he sits in pensive mood, looking at the birds on the lawn and the cars riding past. Watching the world go by. Or he jumps up there when he hears a siren, looking for the excitement of a red fire truck whizzing by. And today, it is his stage. His place to explore his voice. To be "on".
He is so funny and so sweet. He lights my smile up from inside my face until I feel like it will crack, and I will become a ball of light and laughter, rising like the sun.
Who else can fill us with such feelings like our children?
No one.

Today, I am feeling better, but not yet my best self. I think the cool air, the sunlight that splatters on the walls and the floor beckoning to come out and play, the prospect of getting out of the house, will help.
Today, I will put one foot in front of the other. I will move forward. I will breathe.
Today, I will enjoy the simple blessings. I will smile at my sons. I will embrace my life and live it the best way I know how, and learn how to live it even better.
Today, I will bless the Maker of all things bright and beautiful. I will thank the Healer. I will remember the faithfulness.
Today is going to be a great day!

Once upon a time . . .

noreply@blogger.com (Joy) — Thu, 29 Apr 2010 03:41:00 +0000

The other night, as I was reading a book to Daniel before bed, he said to me, "Mom, I wish I could get into that picture in the book. How do I get in there? I want to jump into that picture and be in the book!"
I know just how he feels.
There are many a book I would love to fall into . . . .
I love that he feels that way about books. That he knows, even now, that they can take him places . . . far or near. That they create worlds.
Life is still crazy busy here, though winding down a bit now.
The week after my last post, I was busy preparing for that Friday night, when our school had a spring concert centered around the theme "The Whole Earth is Filled with His Glory."
All our kids did such a great job singing and dancing and reciting poetry and prayers and playing instruments. I was so proud of all of them!
We also had a school wide writing contest, and the winners were announced during the concert, and winning entries were read.
Josiah won first place in his category (1st and 2nd grade cinquain), along with his good pal Nathaniel, and they both were the only two students to score a perfect score on their writing, so they both won best of show as well. He won a Sonic gift card for getting first place, a pizza party to be shared by all winners, and a writer's basket for getting best of show.
Isaac also won first place in the 5th-6th grade narrative category, and he took third place in the poetry contest.
Our kids pulled out their best to show their friends and family members that indeed, the whole earth is filled with His glory!

Isaac and Joe left right after the concert for a Boy Scout camp out. I stayed home and got the house ready for an open house we were having that Sunday, (All that work, and only one family came through! Oh well, at least it made me get my spring cleaning done!).

Isaac got pretty sick while he was at camp, and it was a long recovery for him. He had a fever that he couldn't shake, ear infections in both ears and an upper respiratory infection. It was his first sickness of the year. He had perfect attendance up until that point, and he was sad to be missing school.
It was a short week anyway, because the teacher's went on a much needed retreat to a beautiful house nestled in the wooded banks of a river near Branson, Mo.
It was a wonderful time of refocusing and refreshing, listening to hearts, hearing and sharing encouragement, and looking ahead to the next school year.
The house was luxurious, to say the least, and the setting was beautiful . . . river winding behind the house that could be seen from the large windows and many decks, trees surrounding and shading. There was an amazing view from . . . everywhere!

This is the kind of dinning table I want . . . BIG!

Unfortunately, while there, I got sick. A trip to the Urgent Care on Monday morning revealed that I had sinusitis, an upper respiratory infection and an inner ear infection that still has me not hearing much at all out of my right ear. Very annoying! I got a shot of antibiotics in my "rear-hind" as Daniel calls it, and some other strong medications to help alleviate symptoms of the infections.
Yesterday, I woke up sicker than I was the day before, not only from all the infections, but from negative reactions to the meds as well. I was sicker than I have been in a long time. I ran a high fever all day, had a headache that would not go away, and felt like I was going to throw up the whole time. My skin turned a bright red color all over, and I felt like I was burning from the inside out. I was miserable! A call to the pharmacist confirmed that some of my discomfort was due to the high doses and combination of meds I am taking. Nothing dangerous . . . just "regular side effects." I was told to continue all meds and stick it out until they could work. My mom came and watched Daniel until Joe woke up, and then he took over, letting me rest and recover. He has taken very good care of me, helping me with my meds and making me endless cups of tea. Thank you, Joe, for being such a good nurse!
So, that pretty much is the short version of the past two weeks or so.
What am I looking forward to?
This weekend is the school track meet, weather permitting.
After that, there are only two weeks of school left. I can't believe it. Really. It feels like we just got started. How can it be over?
This is Isaac's last year of grade school. Next year he will be a seventh grader. Wow. That is crazy to me. Sometimes, lately, I will look at him and I feel . . .overwhelming waves of love, and wonderment at his every growing self, and sadness that his little kid years are coming to an end, and anticipation for what lies ahead for him. It's all very mixed. And sometimes, that pre-teen craziness takes over, like Mr. Hyde, and I think . . . "who are you? And what did you do with my sweet little son?"
We are facing new parenting territory. There is no doubt about it. And we are doing it with hope and anticipation and excitement . . . and a little nostalgia. And some holy trepidation. What happens in the next few years will solidify things in him . . .ideas about the world, family, himself and God.
I find myself listening a little more closely, looking at him a little longer, hugging him a little tighter. He changes by the minute, it seems. Sometimes he is the boy. Sometimes he is the young man. And I think . . . "just a little longer, please. Be little just a little longer . . . "
But little has long been over. And I am enjoying this new young man in the house. Mostly. And when the pre-teen crazies raise their ugly head, we continue to love, continue to admonish, continue to teach character and Godliness, continue to hope for a good future, continue to ask God for answers we don't have. And he is faithful, as he is in everything!
One of my fondest memories of when Isaac was little, was giving him sink baths. He loved to sit in our deep sink in our first house, and I would fill it with water and bubbles. Patti and I would sit and talk and Isaac would play in the sink until he was a wrinkled prune of a boy, full of suds and clean as a whistle. We did sink baths with Jo, too, from the time he was very little. We'd put him in Gram and Gramp's sink, and grandma would talk to him and coo at him as we washed him clean , and he would turn his face to hers, and listen to her voice, and answer in smiles and soft baby speak. (I have lots of pics, but they are from the olden days, when we developed film and got our pics on photo paper, so until I can get a scanner . . . . they are in the photo box.)
I had almost forgotten about sink baths, until Monday evening, when , almost by accident, Daniel, who was sitting on the counter-top, looking out the window, asked to get into the sink. And get into the sink he did. He had a blast! And it brought back so many good memories of my other boys!

I am on the mend today. Still recovering a bit. And having had a high fever yesterday, I am still home today. But I look forward to tomorrow, when I will re-enter society and get back into the swing of things. I am ready to be better. I am ready to face my new days.

And who wouldn't be, with this little guy to keep up with?
He told me today when he gets big he's "gonna have a horse and a cow."
Just maybe.
FYI: I have added photos to my last post, so scroll down and take a look!

Whewwwww. . . .

noreply@blogger.com (Joy) — Mon, 12 Apr 2010 05:12:00 +0000

As I sit here on my brown couch, typing this post, it is late Sunday night.
It is always late at night, it seems, when I am posting (. . .thus all the typos. At a certain point, all the letters just kinda blur together. But sometimes, I just gotta write!).
It's been a busy weekend.
Heck. It's been a busy life.
But this weekend was a bit busier than average weekend stuff.
There was a family party for Josiah Friday night.
Our very dear friends, Pat and Theresa Forbes joined us for the celebration. We used to celebrate all our holidays and family milestones with them. They have moved far away, but they are always in our hearts, and on Friday, we had the pleasure of having them at our table!

Saturday, I did some housework . . . not as much as I needed to, but enough to keep me busy until I had to get ready for the wedding of our good friends Ugo and Amy.
I know the wedding ceremony and celebration is primarily for the bride and groom, but I had so much fun seeing old friends and talking to people I haven't seen in a while and bustin' a few moves with my home girl Kerri, it felt like we were all the stars of the evening!

On the way home in the car, Josiah told me he danced his first dance with another person . . .a friend of his from school, "you know, to a slow song," he explained as I drove him toward home, the darkening sky falling around us . Apparently, she offered him two pieces of candy to dance with her, and he refused. But she upped the ante to three pieces of candy, and he folded like a bad hand.
He seemed quite squeemish about the whole thing.
I just couldn't believe I missed the photo op.
And my little dancing man.
I stayed way latter than I planned to.
It was that much fun.
Staying late has it's consequences though.
Just ask Cinderella.
By the time I got home, I was too tired to do the things I had to do to get the house ready for Josiah's "friend party" today.

So, this morning was a rush, and this afternoon was a bit crazy too. Lots of people came for dinner and the party, and the house was packed out . . . but I love it when that happens.
The whole house fills up with the sounds of laughter and talking and family and life and . . . friendship. Dishes rattle and silverware clinks and clanks. Children laugh, run, get under your feet . . . and you smile. Friends share stories, tell jokes, remember when, laugh out loud . . . their voices becoming part of the space where you are, maybe forever. If you press your ear up to the wall another day, can you hear them again? . . . the conversations, the words, the hearts . . . ? I like to think they live on in the walls, and that is the essence of what makes your house a home. That the happy words bounce around the place. A place to gather. Friends and memories. To mingle lives. Holy work. A sanctuary.
So, I sit in silence now.
But I can still hear the voices of the afternoon. Not in the walls. But in my head. My heart.
I smile.
These moments . . .days . . . of beauty and grace, are what our lives are built on.
A wonderful life.
I face another busy week.
Busier than this last one, even.
The thought of it makes me let out a sigh into the stillness.
My heart sinks a little.
Why can't we just live in this marvelous today for a bit longer?
Why can't this late night stillness linger . . . last for days . . . stretch out and on and on . . .with no agenda but to enfold this house and my sleeping boys and me posting here?
It will not.
It can not.
There is more ahead . . . glimmers of the beauty, the grace, yet to be lived.

To celebrate a life . . .

noreply@blogger.com (Joy) — Fri, 09 Apr 2010 19:05:00 +0000

Eight years ago (except it was a Tuesday) on a warm, bright day, much like today, Joe and I went to the doctor's office for one of our final pre-natal visits before Josiah was to be born.
Upon checking me, the nurse announced that I was dilated to a five, and should not return home (45 minutes away) but should go directly to check in at the hospital. I didn't even have my hospital bag. I had to call my cousin to bring it.
We walked over to the hospital, and checked in.
Everything was fine, and the doctor decided to break my water to get things moving. I had been in labor for days, but it was slow going.
I took the drugs (I know, I know . . . but I don't regret it one bit. I'm a wimp like that.) and we waited for Josiah to enter this big, bold world.
Joe and I talked and laughed and held hands and watched the monitors.
Finally, at about 4:15, the nurse said, "I'm just gonna step out and get the doctor."
He came into the room. I pushed a few times. And at 4:20 p.m., out popped one of the greatest gifts of my life.
My sweet Josiah!
I got to hold him right away.
He was not a happy camper!
Oh, but I sure was.
And he has been bringing me joy and laughter, and has been growing my heart bigger than I ever thought it could grow, for all these eight years.
I am getting ready to celebrate this day with him in his classroom with his school friends.
Then, tonight, my family will gather at my house and have his favorite meal . . . pasta e fagoli with all the fixins, and a special cake baked by Grandpa.
Sunday he will have a Super Mario party with his friends. Mom is busy putting it all together. She really should go into business. She can throw a kids party like nobody's business!
I'm excited about our celebrations of life. Of Josiah's life.
He is kind and smart and funny and thoughtful, and it has been my pleasure to be his mom!
Happy Birthday, Jo! I love you so much!!

Is Easter ever really over?

noreply@blogger.com (Joy) — Thu, 08 Apr 2010 18:06:00 +0000

It seems I can get so busy living this beautiful, magical life, that I run out of time to write about it.
And so . . . the days get away from me.
And I find myself writing about holidays, like Easter, days after they have melted into sweet memories.
Actually, I have some pics from the tennis match last week, too. This year, the weather for tennis was gorgeous, if a bit windy. But it was warm and sunny. The kinds of days you don't mind being outside for hours.
All our kids did great! Isaac and his doubles partner, Colton, won a silver medal after playing a two hour championship game. Their competitors were very nice young men, who played hard as well and exhibited great sportsmanship. It was so much fun to watch Isaac play! He is . . . let's all say it together . . . Getting. So. Big!

We had off for Good Friday, and the boys and I went to grandpa's for the day to cook and bake some yummy traditional Italian Easter fare.
Grandpa made his famous Italian wedding cookies. Seriously. These things are dangerous to me. And I am dangerous to them. Look at these little buttons of sheer sugary happiness. I could eat them all day!

We made two sweet pies. I haven't had sweet pies since I was a kid!!

And two pizza gain (meat pies). Yeah. I haven't had this since I was a kid too. It's a good thing. Or else I'd weigh a ton. No lie.

It was fun to bake these traditional treats with Gramp. It certainly brought back a lot of good memories, and we had a few laughs.

When my grandpa was the pastor of a small church in Newark, NJ, we didn't bake these dishes because, inevitably, all the Italian women of the church would come to Easter service dressed to the nines and and carrying pies and breads -- often more than one per motivated home-baker -- which they would give to my grandpa and his family to show their respect for him and their gratitude of his care. They would fill the whole kitchen table, and the overflow would be placed on the counter-tops. We would have macaroni pie and pizza gain and sweet pie and egg bread coming out our ears! They were all just a little bit different, unique in their tastes and textures, richness and presentation, but boy howdy! They were all good. (I never did like macaroni pie, though.)
I was excited but wary when my cousin suggested that this year we try to make some of the Easter foods that live in our memories. After all, these were things that were created in the kitchens of amazing home cooks who could cook rings around these new fangled t.v. superstar chefs any day! I always pictured them working away in steamy kitchens, aprons caked with errant ingredients, noses floured, hair swept up atop their sweat-moistened brows. Surely they were in there without seeing the light of day for hours . . . days maybe, to produce the fine delicacies they so generously shared with us.
My grandpa talked to his cousin, Tri, at length about the recipes, and wrote and rewrote the instructions.
I was surprised at how easy it all was.
A little of this, a little of that, a little time to bake . . . and we had some amazing results. Tasty pies that hit the nail of memory right on the taste buds!
It was fun to share the pies with friends and family who joined us for Easter dinner.
Saturday was a busy day. The older boys got to play at a friend's house, and mom and I went shopping with Danny.

After dinner, we dyed eggs. I love Daniel at this age, because he is old enough to understand what we are doing, and young enough to be astounded by the wonder of every new thing!

Easter Sunday was a beautiful day, sun shiny and warm, a wonderful reminder that Jesus is alive and loves us!
The boys got their baskets when we all woke up. Nothing big and fancy, just little things . . . candy, of course, and other things like bubbles and first aid kits and word search or coloring books, and crayons or highlighters and baseball cards and little Marvel Comic towels all bunched up in a tiny square that will spring to their full size when soaked in water. Just fun. Stuff.

There was one for Joe and David too.
My boys looked sharp in their Easter duds.Can you say "Blue's Brothers"?

Daniel and his friend Audrey. They dig each other.

We celebrated Jesus' work of salvation on the cross, the lovely day and each other. It was a full day. Everyone liked the sweet pie and the pizza gain, and Grandpa also made lasagna and his famous Italian "gravy." Our house was full of friends and family, laughter and sharing stories and talking about life and Jesus and . . .just whatever.
And later, when I was falling into bed, tired and happy, my only regret was that I didn't get a chance to write about it.
"What's the good of writing about Easter several days after it already over?" I whined to myself when I began this post.
And then I thought . . . Is Easter ever really over?
I mean, the new life of this tender season, the new life that grows in our hearts through the work of Christ -- that new life, just as Spring comes year after year, blooming us out of our winter seasons, comes to us over and over again as we change and grow and blossom and stretch toward Heaven. It comes everyday, in big and small ways. In things seen and not seen. Easter blooms eternal because He who was crushed for us to live a life of triumph, joy, purpose and peace, rose again. Rose. Again.
For those who believe Jesus is God's son, that he loves us so much he gave his life for ours, and that he rose from the dead so we can live forever, everyday is Easter . . . a celebration of joy and hope and life.
A remembering of what He did for me. . . for everyone.
What He does for us . . . everyday.

It's April First . . . you know what that means . . .

noreply@blogger.com (Joy) — Thu, 01 Apr 2010 15:14:00 +0000

Actually, it means lots of things! And I have lots of fun and inspirational links to prove it.
Today is April Fool's Day (Check this out to see who's playing jokes today. You may be surprised at some of the big-name pranksters! And it's fun.)
Easter is this Sunday. (This article excerpt paints me a picture, makes me remember, fills me with gratitude and love, causes me to rejoice! Very worth the click.)
Josiah's birthday will be in NINE days. He'll be EIGHT! Really? Is life flying by like a kite that has gotten free of the hand and is careening unfettered, fast and furiously, through the blue, blue sky? It is beyond me. My hand can not hold the hours, cannot freeze the minutes or stop the seconds. So I run . . . run like the wind, chasing my life, scooping up moments in my butterfly-net memory to take out later. To look at and savor. The boys are changing so rapidly . . . getting bigger, looking less and less like little boys. I see in their faces shadows of the men they will be. I look back at moments captured in photos only one short year ago, and see so clearly the changes that creep up on us so subtly, day by day. Have they changed that much? Have I? And then, I run on to live more life, to snap more shots that will astound me next year, to chase the kite. (See how we celebrated last year.)
April means there is only one month left of school. Daniel looked out the window yesterday morning as he sat at the bar playing with Legos. The sun was early-bright and the sky was azure and a warm breeze was bringing outside scents in. He paused for a moment and said, excitedly, "Mom! I see summer coming in my window!" Ah, yes. Come on, summer. Come on.
And today marks the first day of National Poetry Month! (Teachers, parents, poets, lovers of poetry . . . here are thirty ways to celebrate poetry month.) This year's official Poetry Month poster can be found at Poets.org. Teachers, free copies of the poster are available while supplies last. You can also purchase past Poetry Month posters. What a great way to decorate your classroom this April!

I spent the last two beautiful, balmy days of March at a school tennis tournament. Isaac and his doubles partner, Colton, brought home a silver medal. They played their hearts out. I am so proud of them. I will post more on this later. I have lots of pictures to share.
Just wanted to welcome this month, at times dubbed "the cruelest."
But I expect great things from April this year.
Celebrations of life and words.
And the most important celebration of all, of the Word who became Life so we, who were dead, might LIVE!
Happy April, everyone!
(My poetry pick for today.)

Monday morning musings . . .

noreply@blogger.com (Joy) — Mon, 29 Mar 2010 13:57:00 +0000

This morning, as I sit on my couch, Daniel sleeping beside me, the sun streams in my east window, making patterned imprints of light on the walls, the floor. A warm orange glow fills the room. Geese fly over my house, honking their morning greetings. I think of Joe when I hear geese. He talks of them as part of his better boyhood memories. He stops to listen when they fly by. He likes their trumpet calls. And because they make me think of him, I do too.
This weekend was busy, but productive. The remodel at mom's is coming along, slowly but surely. It will be very lovely when it is all done, and then we can relax and enjoy it!! The kitchen is looking like a kitchen again, and not an earthquake zone. Isaac helped us quite a bit this weekend, and Daniel did, too! He was a hard working little helper!

On Sunday, I had the opportunity to share at church about where I have been lately and where God is taking me. I talked about the lies we are told by the enemy of our souls, about who we are and who God is, and how they can take over our lives and render us lifeless and ineffective. But when we remember the truth, that God is a just king, a faithful friend, a good father, and that we are His children, whom He loves and wants good things for, then life abundant follows, and we can live lives of purpose and joy in all things, and effectively fulfill our callings. Really, I just shared my life a bit. Of course, the whole time I was thinking, "I'm not sure any of this is even making sense . . .I don't really have anything to say . . . " but the response I got from people afterward was amazing and truly, truly humbling. So many people said that I had been able to put into words what they had been thinking and feeling, and that it touched them. I know it was the Holy Spirit talking, and not me, because I could not remember ten minutes after I talked just what I had said. He knew the marks in the hearts of the people my words needed to hit. I felt so encouraged, and very privileged and humbled to be used by God in that way . . . to help and encourage others through my experiences and my words.
After church, we had a quiet Sunday dinner. The boys did some homework, and then I took them to the tennis courts for a while so they could get ready for the tennis tournament the school has coming up this week. Josiah will not play until next year, but he helped his brother get some practice in.

This day is still young. The older boys have gone to school. Daniel sleeps on beside me. I sip coffee and think of things to be done today and throughout this week. I look forward, with hope and renewed truth and purpose and joy. And on this beautiful morning, with sun shining in and geese flying over, and my little one breathing in sleep beside me, I bless the Lord, O my soul. And with all that is within me, I bless His Holy name.

Feeling kind'a . . . green

noreply@blogger.com (Joy) — Sat, 27 Mar 2010 06:58:00 +0000

Beautiful today.
The grass is greening.

The air is warming.
The sun lights up the world.
This new season is growing into itself.
It was the quintessential Spring day.
If you look Spring up in the dictionary, you may very well find this day as the definition.

It was the perfect day for a GQ Baby photo shoot!

And the perfect day for Daniel to ride his tricycle in the school parking lot.

Don't these flowers Josiah and Daniel picked for me from grandpa's yard yesterday look so happy to be sitting in the sunshine? Positively ecstatic!

It was so green today. I could see green. Smell green. I wanted to taste green. So I got some green things. Gorgeous asparagus . . . green peppers, avocados, a little lime. A threw in a few other fresh veggies, and cooked up vegetable fajitas, with some grilled chicken strips on the side. I added some Spanish rice and black beans, and we had a truly delicious, fresh, green meal! Delightful! The best thing about dinner tonight? My two older sons fighting over the asparagus! I actually gave some of the asparagus on my plate to them to keep the peace! Although. . . it is the kind of argument I wish they always had . . . who will get the last of the vegetables.

It's been a long, full day, and there is much to do tomorrow. I will be working at mom's house all day, getting it ready for new appliances and counter-tops that are arriving next week. So, in the words of Danny, I'm gonna go "take a sleep" now.

Luggage . . . or Baggage? How are you packing you child's suitcase for their life journey?

noreply@blogger.com (Joy) — Fri, 26 Mar 2010 04:36:00 +0000

(image not my own)

Several weeks ago, God dropped a picture on me, and I've been thinking about it ever since.
It was of several parents, standing at a train depot with their children, handing them bags, seeing them off on a long journey.
Some of the bags were beautiful pieces of luggage with neat pockets containing useful items, tools, necessities for every situation that might arise.
Other bags were old, worn, carpet bags full of dirt and rocks and rubble. There wasn't a viable, usable, good, nourishing, practical, or beautiful thing in them. And some parents were handing these bags to their kids. Sending them off.
It was such a clear picture, and it stopped me cold.
It wasn't hard to understand what I was seeing.
I leaned hard on my kitchen counter, and God asked me a very personal, very convicting question.
"Are you packing luggage? or baggage? for your kids' trips into their futures . . ."
Wow.
Hmmmmm.
He pressed further . . .more questions started to flood in.
"Are you teaching them with your words and you actions about the value of eternal things? Are you showing them how to live, not just telling them? Are you pinning your hopes and dreams on them and not finding out what My hopes and dreams are for them? Are you modeling the fruits of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control in your life (Gal. 5:22-23)? Are you teaching them to dwell on things that are true, noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable, excellent, praiseworthy (Philip. 4:8)?"
In short, what I am putting in my children's suitcases for life?
I must confess, I was not pleased with how I was answering some of these questions.
Now, if you are a parent, you know that everyday you try to nurture, to teach, to love, to show, to mold, to believe, to encourage, to hope, to instruct, to equip. . .to be a good parent,. A great parent, even. To give your kids everything they will need, and, hopefully, nothing they don't, before they leave your home.
Some days . . . most days, perhaps, you hit the mark.
Some days . . .maybe most days, you do not.
For most parents, it's not that we are trying to create baggage for our kids. We would never knowingly do anything to hurt or hinder them.
But when we are not purposeful in our parenting, not mindful of what we are modeling, or when we ask our children to live a life that we aren't living, we are definitely packing just that for them, and we might as well be handing them bags of dirt, sticks, and stones for their journey that will last a lifetime.
We need to be careful that we are not filling them with our expectations, our hopes, our issues, our bitterness, our anger, our pride . . .that we are not handing them our baggage.
We need to capture our children's hearts. To see them as our brothers and sisters in Christ, for that is what they are, as well as our children. To be about forging real, warm, and deep relationships with them, and not just about monitoring and modifying their behaviors.
Ugh! It all seems so overwhelming!
I mean, we all have baggage.
We'll all damage our children in some way or another. It's inevitable. So why worry too much about it?
Right?
Wrong!
Galatians 6:8-10 says, " . . . the one who sows to please the Spirit, from the spirit will reap eternal life. Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a bountiful harvest if we do not give up. Therefore, as we have opportunity, let us do good to all people, especially to those who belong to the family of believers."
If we strive to live with purpose, to teach with our words and our lives, and to love big; if we do good to our children and keep doing good, even when we are tired (which, when aren't we?), then we, and not only we, but our children, will enjoy the bounty of a wonderful, healthy, true and beautiful life filled with joy! And not just a good life here, on earth, but life eternal.
But, wait!
What if we mess up? Or, what if we haven't been living this way?
Simple.
We repent.
We must tell our children we are sorry. Ask them to forgive our shortcomings. And we change.
We must tell Jesus we are sorry. Ask for His help and His wisdom and His mercy. And we change.
Begin today. Or, begin again today.
I know I did.
I have a new determination to pack my kid's luggage with useful, true, wonderful, necessary, beautiful things . . . and to send them, well equipped, and well loved, on the most important journey they will ever take.

Rain

noreply@blogger.com (Joy) — Wed, 24 Mar 2010 19:34:00 +0000

(image not my own)

Spring rain,
falling.
Gentle as tears we cry when we're happy.
White winter landscape,
a dream fading.
I walk out in it and feel mist on my skin,
cool.
I shiver, but I am not cold.
We are in the truck when it starts to really rain . . . hard.
Downpour.
I thank God.
We are safe, dry, warm, in this vehicle that carries us to the next place.
We listen to the pit-pit, pit-pit of pelting rain.
The swish-wish, swish-wish of wipers.
A symphony of rain-sounds fills the space.
A repetitive music, soft and plain, that lulls my son to sleep.
His breathing joins the symphony.
I drive on.
Black mirror pavement stretching out before me, shiny.
Tires slapping rain soaked road.
I carry things more precious than Hope diamonds.
I scarcely breathe.
Always, I drive on.

La luna . . .

noreply@blogger.com (Joy) — Tue, 23 Mar 2010 13:26:00 +0000

Yesterday was lovely.
The sun was shinning.
It was warm.
Birds were in their glory again after a day of standing on the sides of the road, frigid and stunned by Spring snow. (Isaac and I kept seeing Robins huddled in the middle of the streets, or along the sides of them when we were out running errands in the storm on Saturday. I almost ran over a few, afraid to break too fast on the slick roads, and kept telling him, "Isaac, I think the birds are in shock! They're acting crazy, sitting in the road!" He said, with 11 year old boy insight, "I think they are trying to stay on the pavement so they can stay warm.")
Yesterday, their songs were trills that thrilled my heart!
It was back to school, and it was good to be there.
In Josiah's backpack, among his "bring home" stuff, was a writing project he had recently done about himself. When I read it, I was amazed at my almost eight year old son. It made my heart fill up with love all over again. (My boys are constantly having that affect on me!)
He was given the first two words of every line, and then had to finishl in the rest. This is what he came up with:
I am Josiah
I wonder if I could be an inventor
I hear birds singing the beautiful song
I see dogs playing
I want to snowboard wen I am ten
I am Josiah
I pretend to be Poseidon
I feel happpy when I am 8
I touch cat's fur
I worry if I die
I cry wen my kitten died
I am Josiah
I understand pictures
I say nice things about friends
I dream if I could go to Egypt
I try to be kind
I hope to be the first man to live in space

What a great way to know what your child is thinking and feeling!
Daniel loves space right now too. He is fascinated with the moon and rocket ships.
Last night, we were heading home from my mom's house, and as he was getting in the car, he looked up and said, "Look at that silly moon! I want to eat it! I want to eat the moon! I'm gonna go up there and get pieces of it, and we can eat it! I'm gonna get a rocket ship and go up to the moon and eat it!"
We were all laughing, and he was laughing.
I tried to caprture him saying all that on the video application on my cell phone, but couldn't figure out how to use it. I thought it was recording, but it was not.
I loved it, though, and want to remember it forever.

It reminded me of George Bailey, in It's a Wonderful Life, telling Mary he would lasso the moon for her, and then she could swallow it and moonbeams would shoot out of the ends of her fingers and toes and her hair . . . I swung Daniel up into the car seat, laughing and straining to keep his eye on that edible moon, and I thought . . . I'd lasso the moon for you, Danny Boy.

Faithfulness

noreply@blogger.com (Joy) — Mon, 22 Mar 2010 03:34:00 +0000

I have mentioned that I have endured a "winter of the soul" of late.
Several weeks ago, I even told Joe that I have felt like a dying tree.
I was so ready for Spring, both in a literal and spiritual sense.
Ready to shed the heaviness, the cold, the stiffness that had set in.

Ready to walk out barefoot in the grass and tilt my face to the Sun and breathe the warm air full of life.
Ready to reach out my limbs to the heavens, warmed to the point of budding again. Stirred to the roots with living.
I got a taste of it. It was intoxicating. And it woke a hope in my heart that my spiritual stupor was coming to an end . . . a hibernation spell broken by the kiss of a new season.
Which is why I watched in dismay as the sky shook out snow all day yesterday.
"Will it ever change? Will I ever change?"
"Will it be winter forever?"
Not wanting to face the snow, I almost forsook the gathering together today.
I almost stayed home, in hibernation mode.
But I did not.
I listened to words about Jesus the liberator that set me free.
And today, I had an encounter with God that will change who I am forever.
I asked questions.
He answered, and began to heal and affirm.
It was so unexpected.
A sudden burst of life where there was only dying before.
And I knew, no matter what it looks like . . .or even what I feel like (especially what I feel like), Spring is here.

So, this is Spring . . .

noreply@blogger.com (Joy) — Sun, 21 Mar 2010 04:31:00 +0000

This was yesterday.

This was today.

Really, what more is there to say about that?
Instead, I will tell you something I adore about Daniel these days.
Daniel hands out spontaneous words of affirmation lately.
I love it!
The other day he told me "Josiah is a good boy."
He told my mom today, "You're my friend, Meem."
And while he was watching Joe paint the kitchen he said, "My dad's a good guy!"
And in the car on the way home he said, "You're my mom! I love you"
He comes out with stuff like this every once in a while.
Totally unsolicited bits of love.
Gifts of the most precious sort . . . to a mom, and a dad, and a meem.
Another valuable lesson from my young son. . . tell those you love and appreciate often how much you love and appreciate them, and just what you think of them.
It will make them feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

Even if it's a snowy afternoon.
Here is a dimintive snowman my boys made together this afternoon. It was too cold to make one any bigger than this!!

A successful St. Patty's Day celebration and some Spring . . .

noreply@blogger.com (Joy) — Sat, 20 Mar 2010 06:51:00 +0000

The irony is, as I write this, we are waiting for a "winter" storm that is anticipated to drop as many as SIX inches of snow on us.
Oh, say it isn't so!
Either Doppler radar is playing a very cruel joke on us, or I put my winter coat away entirely too soon!
Well, the past two days have been gorgeous ones.
The best two days, weather wise, out of the whole break!
Yesterday, we celebrated St. Patty's Day with a meal of corned beef and cabbage and some fresh Irish soda bread!

Daniel was my little chef. "I'm a good helper, mom!" he bragged.
Indeed, he is.

While the bread was in the oven, we took some time to play outside.
Here are some images of Spring.
I will look back at them often during the next few frigid days!

Today, it was back to the painting grind, although things are really coming along!!
I should have taken "before" photos.
But, I did not.
It was a beautiful day today. We had the windows and doors flung open, and the birds were singing sweet songs which floated in on warm breezes. At one point this afternoon, Daniel was sitting on a chair in front of an open window in the kitchen, near where I was painting. He was eating a green apple and looking out at the day he would soon be out playing in. He said to me, "I'm so happy!" It was so out of the blue, I almost cried.
"And what is making you so happy?" I asked.
"This apple. And the sun," he replied.
So simple.
And it made him so happy.
I stopped what I was doing, and watched his curly haired head bobbing in the sunlight streaming in the window. He was chewing his apple and swinging his feet.
It was one of those moments when my children teach me some fundamental truth about life.
And I was listening.
It doesn't take much.
Being near those you love . . . a little warm sunshine . . . a bit of good nourishment . . . put them all together and you have the recipe for sheer joy.
"I'm so glad you're happy," I told him.
He looked at me and smiled, and went back to looking out the window.

I was so tired. I had been painting all day and had some other worries on my mind . . . but after that, I picked up my brush . . . and was happy!

This place is a . . . zoo!

noreply@blogger.com (Joy) — Thu, 18 Mar 2010 15:01:00 +0000

Hello.
It's me.
It's been a while.
Not months, or anything like that.
But a while (as a friend pointed out last night, ten days!! :)
We've been quite busy this week -- this Spring Break week.
Not at the beach.
Or hiking in the mountains.
Nope.
We've been trying to keep our house clean for potential buyers.
And we've been renovating my mom's house.
Priming, painting, picking out appliances and flooring and counter-tops, replacing hardware and hinges.
The whole enchilada!
It is a chore.
When this is over, I may never want to paint another thing again in my whole life! I've spent more of this break so far covered in paint than not.
But everytime I am there, I can see what it will soon be.
I smile.
It will be quite nice.
I know we are doing the right thing.
And I smile again.
Peace is a wonderful thing. It helps you live in the chaos of a moment with the promise of contentment and rest and beauty that it paints before your weary eyes. It provides a deep sense of being in the right place at the right time doing the right thing.
And so, we have been painting cabinets and walls and . . . everything, really.
But it hasn't been all work.
Tuesday, Joe and the boys and I went to the zoo!
This is what we saw:

The boys had a great time, and so did Joe and I. Daniel was wide-eyed with amazement at seeing animals he loves and has only seen in books and on t.v. right there, large and real, in front of him.
He especially loved the Rhinos!
Josiah liked the cheetah the best, even though we only got to watch him sunning himself. He did no great feats of speed for us who looked on that day.
Isaac liked the rain-forest the best. He liked the piranhas and little monkeys that live in that habitat.
I think that was my favorite too.
There was a mama sloth hanging right above our heads when we first walked into the rain-forest! She couldn't have cared less about us, but I sure was impressed by her . . . calm and impassive, meditating on the green leaves she sat staring at. If ever there was a zen-like animal, the sloth is it. Oh how I envy the slow calculated intentions of her movements and the serene glaze in her eye. Never mind that she carries the name of one of the seven deadly sins! Once in a while, I'd like to step out of this break-neck speed of life and sit like a sloth.
I liked hearing the lion roar, also. His booming voice calling from his den, thundering and echoing. It sent chills up and down my spine. It made me remember every time I ever read Narnia.
Daniel wanted to take the train ride around the zoo, and so we did. He was so excited!
I'm so glad we took a day to be together, to marvel at the animals and to have fun!
Before leaving, Josiah picked out a stuffed cheetah to bring home. Joe selected a baby jaguar for Daniel, who was sleeping soundly by then, and Isaac . . . well, Isaac is getting older, and just didn't see anything in the gift shop that struck his fancy.
It made me a little sad. It was so . . . grown-up of him.
Have I mentioned that watching my kids grow up is a beautifully painful thing?
It is.
Daniel has said so many funny, cute things . . . I can hardly keep up with it all.
Yesterday, he walked out of the house with this hat on, and said (in his gruffest voice, of course) "Hey! We're cowboys here!"

As if we didn't know!
The other day he told me, "You need to use your magination, mom!" when I said I didn't know how to do something.
Weather wise, there hasn't been a truly nice, warm, sunny day this whole break! Not one. Not yet. But I'm holding out hope. I'm trying not to have cynical thoughts about how stunningly gorgeous it will probably be on Monday.
We did not celebrate St. Patty's Day yesterday (although I did paint my soon-to-be- laundry room a lovely shade of green -- does that count?) so I will make corned beef and cabbage for family dinner tonight, and I will bake some warm, comforting Irish soda bread when I am done posting this.
St. Patty's day -- you know who that makes me think of.
My dad.
*Sigh* I miss you, dad.
The other day, I went into the garage for a hammer. I have never been in there messing with dad's tools. I opened one door to a cabinet where he had some stuff, and the scent of him tumbled out and stumbled into me, clumsily. I did not expect to find my dad there, I'm not sure why. It is where he spent a lot of time. I should have known . . . I took a deep breath, and cried my eyes out. Really. I stood in front of the tool cabinet and cried like I have not cried in a long time. And I said out loud, "Oh dad. I miss you."
I ran my hand over everything.
I couldn't see very well, my eyes were tear-blurred. I wouldn't have recognized much anyway. I'm not exactly tool savvy.
I closed my eyes and I could see him standing there, in his blue work pants and blue tee shirt with the sleeves cut off. His hair was always slightly mussed when he was working on things. But his smile . . . his smile was the same no matter what he was doing.
Gosh dang, I miss that smile.
No painting today, I think.
We'll hit it hard tomorrow and this weekend, but today, I am home with my own little cubs.
I will bake, and fill our home with sweet smells.
I think we will take a trip to the library before going to Gramp's tonight.
This break is flying by.
And just now, the sun is trying to break through . . .
I want to make the most of it.

Spring out of winter . . .

noreply@blogger.com (Joy) — Sun, 07 Mar 2010 22:32:00 +0000

"Not knowing when the dawn will come,

I open every door."

~Emily Dickinson

It is a beautiful day.
Really. A truly gorgeous day!
I am sitting on Grandpa's back porch, after having a rich Sunday dinner (but no meatballs today after having watched Food, Inc. last night. Ugh. More on that later), watching my kids play in his backyard.
There's just a little edge of chill in the air, the kind that reminds you that you will need a jacket when the sun slides away.
But right now, it is warm and sunny and we are enjoying it!
A robin, heavy with eggs, sits in the yard, too lazy to fly away from the boys running near. Somewhere close there is a nest, fat and feathered. But it is a nice day for her, too. She is in no hurry to be home.

The boys voices echo over the water, across the field. Laughter sounds so different outdoors. Like bells ringing out.

I breathe deeply and bless the Spring, and the maker of it.
I have needed the Spring.
Winter has been long this year . . . and hard.
And I have walked through a winter of the soul of late.
Crusted by cold-heartedness. Dormant. Hibernating. I have felt all these things at times throughout this season.
I have felt shades of despair hanging over me like a low ceiling of gray clouds, bearing the storehouses of snow from the heavens about to be released, threatening to bury me.
And I am ready for the light and for the air. The warm breath of the Spirit of God that makes dead things live again.
This is the Springtime of the soul . . .of the heart . . . of the mind for me.
I turn my back on the winter of my discontent.

I face the Sun.
I head into the light.