Memorial Day Weekend

It's been a relaxing and lighthearted Memorial Day weekend at home.

• I finished my second book this week - the fourth one in this Lineage of Grace series by Francine Rivers. It's my favorite one in the series so far - Unspoken. The story is told from Bathsheba's perspective. Very interesting.
  
• Josh set up our little/big pool and swimming was gonna happen no matter how cold the water was. Indeed it did. Anna was blue and shivering after both swims this weekend.

• Noah got to stay up late the see his first lightening bugs of the season. He caught about eight and got to bring them in the house in his firefly lantern to watch at bedtime. What fun!

• Anna attended a birthday party for a friend she doesn't know from Eve, because let's face it - she's not even two, but still. She had a great time, she played hard, and was really tired once it was over. It was an exercise in over stimulation for sure. More for me than for her. :)

• I bit the bullet and had Josh flush our back molly fish for 2 reasons. One, He was bullying the 3 other fish, which is very not like molly fish. They are known for being peaceful. I think he went a little crazy as a result of enduring our first nitrogen cycle. Poor thing. And two, When we got home from our trip he had white growths around his eyes and gills. I was afraid whatever he had would spread to the other fish. So he had to go. For what it's worth, I was sad to kevorkian the little guy. And I was a chicken about it. I stayed out of the house and didn't come back in until the dirty deed was done. Josh, of course, was eager and ruthless about the whole thing.
  
• I registered for MOPS. Finally.
  
• Noah and Josh went "faux fishing". This means all they did was cast and reel a little red rubber fish on Noah's fishing pole into the neighborhood lake. Good practice, I say.

• Anna mastered an ugly little "Mine! Mine!" habit.
• Noah sunk deeper and deeper into an annoying backtalking habit. Where did this come from?
• Watched the movie "Dear John". Not bad. And not what we expected. It was ok.
  
• My blog turned 2 on Sunday. Happy Blogiversary to me!
• I discovered that the pretty acreage called Starstruck Farms not far from our house is none other than Reba's TN home!
  
• We have a tribe of bunnies in our backyard. They have really come to trust us over the past few months and they don't even run when we come in the yard anymore. They are fun to watch race and run and chase each other about. The awkward mating they tried to make happen this weekend, however, is a little like a Animal Planet episode. Except goofier.
  
• Anna started getting into all sorts of new things - She busted into a bottle of Flintstones vitamins I had sitting on the stairs, where she is not supposed to be in the first place; she started stripping down to her skinny little bottom all on her own; she unrolled the toilet paper when no one was looking; and much to her Daddy's dismay, she deposited a bit of sand into the pool.
• We played with some new bubble sets from the dollar section of Target that proved to be worth their weight in gold and then some.

• Josh broke into his growing stash of Fourth of July fireworks for the Memorial Day occasion. Not long after, he also broke in the summer with some good old-fashioned, all-American treats - Smores.

Happy Memorial Day! And welcome, Summer!

WPTM #21: Less is More

What Parenting Teaches Me #21: Less is More

On the way home from Gatlinburg, Anna ate some french fries. Actually, she stuffed so many in her mouth that she couldn't even chew, let alone swallow them. So she had to just spit the mushy mess out of her mouth. Unpleasant. And she was still hungry in the end.

I commented to Josh what a good picture this was of American culture. Or just any person and their selfish desires. We instinctively want to acquire more and more and more - so much so that we really can't even enjoy what it is we've got. More and more attention, more and more 'friends', more and more food, more and more money, more and more toys, more and more activities, more and more anything ... until we are just choking on whatever it was we thought we wanted. We aren't satisfied with what is in front of us before we are already moving on to the next thing, next number, next time.

So in the same way that I started handing Anna one fry at a time and then making sure she had chewed and swallowed it before I gave her another one, I was challenged to remember again the "Less is More" philosophy for myself. To savor one good thing at a time if I can help it, instead of cramming in too much in a day, week, or year. To enjoy one hard-earned purchase at a time rather than dwelling on the list of things we have yet to get. Let the chocolate melt in my mouth rather than eat five more pieces in the same time frame. Let the noise and cries of my babies roll over me rather than annoy me at the end of the day. Let my attention be more on the people actually in my life instead of the ones on my homepage or blog roll. That sort of stuff.

All things in moderation. Less is more.
Always a good reminder.

More About Me

• I have turned into a real homebody over the past 4 years.
• I'm OK with that.
• I love to let my babies play in the rain.
  
• I love for them to stomp in the puddles afterward.
  
• I like having the kids play barefoot in the backyard.
• I'm convinced the internet is a modern-day Tower of Babel.
• I am just fascinated at what all I can find out on the internet.
• I clean up while I go when I am cooking.
• I enjoy vacuuming the fish tank.
  
• I spray the kids with the hose whether they need it or not.
• I think a violinist's bow strokes are beautiful to watch.
• I get so much more accomplished when Josh is out of town.
  
• I love feeding our fish. It's like I'm a kid again.
  
• Also beautiful to me is the song "How Beautiful".
  
• "How Beautiful" was sung at our wedding, by the way.
• Funny thing I said lately: Thank you for saying thank you.
  
• Over the past week, Noah told me I was "stwong", "bwave", "a good driver", "so funny", "kind of like a pretty girl, like a bird", and "siwwy".

Toenails on the Menu

Noah's taken to biting his fingernails down to the nubs. And it's a habit I am not all that concerned about. But over the last week or so, I have caught him trying to do the same to his toenails. Now THAT's where I draw the line in the nail biting category. I keep catching him in the act and then I make a big stink about it, trying to make him understand how gross that is. This morning, I swept him up out of time out (for some other offense) and proceeded to clip his toenails before it slipped my mind again. Excited to be freed from time-out, he rededicated himself to obedience in the toenail department - no doubt an effort to ingratiate himself to me. Duly noted.

Noah: I not bite my toenails. Not taste good. Wike salad. Wite, Mommy? I not bit my toenails an-nymore.

The toenail/salad comparison has me confused and amused. And disturbed.

Gatlinburg Getaway

Some highlights from our spur-of-the-moment trip to Gatlinburg this week...

Atop the Space Needle


Playing in the riverbed. Free, but fun.


Headin' down to the pool


I forgot my suit, so Josh had to manage without me. I pack the whole family, and yet can't quite seem to remember to pack for myself. A mommy's life.


The Aquarium of the Smokies - this is what we were most looking forward to.


Noah was terrified to see this giant shark just inside the entrance. But when we stepped inside, he busted out with "Hi, Shark!" and ran right over to him. After the shark waved, Noah asked, "I hug you?"
Underwater tunnel exhibit. The kids really liked the moving escalator style floor. I really liked how long this part of the aquarium was. Nice job, Ripley's.


There were SO many sharks.


Anna hangs like this on the oven at home!


Crawling around in the Penguin Playhouse exhibit.


Touching the horseshoe crabs. Anna was fearless. Noah had to be nudged a bit more.


View from all over Gatlinburg, really, but this specific shot is the entrance to the Smoky Mountains.


Aerial Tramway ride up to Ober Gatlinburg. Josh is only a little nervous about the extreme height.


Cruising around the area with the windows down because 1. it was cool enough and 2. you have to drive that slow to keep from hitting people or flying off the curvy roads into the river.


One of my favorite things was riding the Sky Lift at Ober Gatlinburg and then flying down the Alpine Slide with Noah and Anna. Sadly, there are no shots of this. I'm only a little bitter.

There were some other lesser worthy touristy cheap thrills we indulged the kids in - arcade, wildlife exhibits, carousels, oversized playgrounds, kiddie train ride, and ice cream. We tried go-karts but poor Noah was just not tall enough. There were lots of shops with that village-type feel, but anyone with little kids knows that those are a no-go with preschoolers. I was sad to not get to wander and browse and window shop.


Good times in Gatlinburg. Not a bad little getaway.

Rubbernecker Redefined

Rubberneckers make me grumpy.


What's that, you say? I'm a grumpy girl anyway?


Humph. That makes me grumpy, too.

Oh My Word

Years and years ago I read a book, randomly selected from I can't even remember where, and I loved every bit of its storyline, images, descriptions as much as I loved every bit of its writing and expression down to chapters, paragraphs, whole sentences, phrasing, even individual word usage. So impressed with this book was I that I deemed it my favorite book ever and since then I have read nothing to compare it with, in my opinion. Peace Like a River by Leif Enger.

I have however forgotten the exact story since then and just how impressed I was with its writing - shame on me! So I picked it up a couple weeks ago and read it whole again. And Oh. My. Word. I fell in love with it all over again. And now I remember why I would not loan my copy of it out to anyone (save my sister) though I have recommended it a million times since. It is fantastic literature!

Some spots I made Josh sit and listen to me read aloud. One chapter in particular was so beautifully written, so touching, I welled with tears while I read it and contemplated copying THE ENTIRE CHAPTER here on my blog. I have dog eared specific lines I want to remember. So many more I stopped and read multiple times before moving on. I grinned to myself at the dry and intelligent humor that passed between characters. I even read this book in bed in place of the Book of Acts that I cannot seem to make myself finish - though I have no reason why not.

I love this book. I think I loved it more this second time around than I originally did the first time. Its makeup reads like poetry, like music. I would find myself reading it in a whisper just to hear the fluid rhythm of the words out loud. It is that well written to me. (And for the record, I hear its narration in a soothing country drawl - like a voice-over to a flashback in a movie) :)

My sister would not agree. I think the book bored her to tears. So it is hilarious to me how much I l-UH-ove it.

Oh my word. Such a good book. Not a light read. Certainly a compelling read, but not for the reason most novels are, which is often storyline alone. Some words I would use to describe it are deep, intelligent, witty, humorous, real, moving, beautiful, hearty, exciting. Oh my word. To look at its cover now makes me tilt my head with affection at the story and appreciation of the skill with which it was written.

Hats off to you, Leif Enger. Now hurry up and write another one that I can read with as much relish.

Speaking of words, here's my collection of great vocabulary from this second read through; I still don't know what a number of these words means, exactly, but that makes them no less easy on the ears: fictive, roweling, swath, penitent, weaponry, wager, lineage, jounced, bolster, stratagems, ingressed, atremble, grayscapes, small-souled, mawkish, unhusked, labyrinthine, villainy, locutions, heartsick, recitations, garrulous, bellicose, harbinger, dessicated, erstwhile, riven, frowzy, restive, heretofore, narcosis, denouement, abstruse, quietude, writ, craven, inconstancy, besmirched, exsiccated, mien, suet, pompadour, discordant, dissimilar, scattershot, wonderment, knave, glaciated, slog, upshot, delaminate, brigand, scapegrace, dispassionate, parlance, sump, disused, oftimes, foretoken, flummoxed, ratfink, ambrosial, cumbrous, soldierly, dizzying, inveterate, rapscallion, screel, transmissive, sunstruck, apostate, trenchate, artifice, captious, expunge, astraddle, souse, insensate, muzzy, undulate, noisome, piquancy, passable, grue, fomenting, jeopardous, insouciant, illumined, prescient, arcane, egress

I can't not share these, a few notable quotes, a sampling of the writing style...

• And now, because a story is told for all, an admonition to the mindsick: Be careful whom you choose to hate. The small and the vulnerable own a protection great enough, if you could but see it, to melt you into jelly. Beware of those that reside beneath the shadow of the Wings.
• How much detail do you need? How much can you stand? I'll spare you beyond saying that when Dad got to school Monday morning he encountered a basement shin deep in evil, a swamp of soft terrors afloat and submerged, a furnace choked and dead, a smell to poise your wits for flight.
• Two whole days I dreamed with Swede about the things twenty-five dollars could buy. The bills were straight voltage, juicing all sorts of hallucinations.
• Normally I'd have taken a towel and wiped them [dishes] myself, but it's difficult to do productive work and fume simultaneously - the labor dissipates your righteous steam - so I stood glaring at the back of her little blonde head, which was tilted in thoughtful mien.
• I don't have the gift to aptly describe the rest of that evening, except to say it was a Christmas Eve beyond all gasping wishes...
• We were swept up, I tell you. Infected with something. Events seemed a wide water into which we'd stepped only to be yanked downstream toward some joyful end.
• She said, "I am zooo cold, dahlink," which gave me the giggles, which made my nose run faster, which lacking a hanky led to my desperate use of the remote corner of the uppermost quilt - well, not so remote- actually a corner fairly close to Swede, a horror that goosed our giggles into full-tilt hysterics, additional nonsense being thrown in whenever one of us could find the breath to speak.
• But we're fearful people, the best of us.
• I laughed in place of language.
• Is it fair to say that country [speaking of heaven] is more real than ours? That its stone is harder, its water more drenching - that the weather itself it alert and not just background? Can you endure a witness to its tactile presence? ... But it wasn't a sun. It was a city....still it threw light and warmth our sun could only covet. And unlike the sun, you could look straight into it - in fact you wished to, had to - and the longer you looked, the more you saw.
• What mortal creations are language and memory! And so I sound like a man making the most marginal sense - as if I were describing one of those dreams that seemed so genuine at the time.
  

For anyone that might ever read this book on account of my recommendation - My favorite scene happens on pages 17/18. That part, I remember vividly from my first read years ago. My favorite chapter is toward the end, aptly titled, "Be Jubilant, My Feet."

Oh my word, I love a good book.

Recipe: Cheez-It Chicken

I recently subscribed (thank you, Alison!) to a cool family meal planning website that provides a week's worth of simple and smart recipes that correspond to your selected grocery store's weekly sales and specials. It's called E-Mealz and I totally dig it, mostly because the recipes are so short and simple. Another bonus is how the plan tells you what sides to serve with it as well. Tonight we tried Cheez-It Chicken and it was especially good. I had to share...

Cheez-It Chicken

2 lbs. chicken tenderloins, thawed
1 c. sour cream
2 c. crushed Cheez-It Crackers (I may have used more, though)
1/2 c. melted butter

Preheat oven to 350. Coat each chicken piece with sour cream. Dredge in crushed crackers. Place on pan, drizzle with melted butter. Bake for 15-20 minutes. Don't overcook.

Served with mashed potatoes and green beans. Duh-lish!

Productivity, Check!

Feeling productive and healthy today for the following reasons - and it's not even lunchtime yet.

1. Exercise, check! Took a walk with the kids.
2. Chores, check! Emptied the dishwasher, picked up first round of toys, got laundry in the cue.
3. First nitrogen cycle in fish tank complete, check! Huge sigh of relief.
4. Small family trip to Gatlinburg booked, check! Yay for Josh haggling/smooth talking the hotel into bumping us up to a suite on his reward points!
5. Healthy snack for the kid, check! He ate an entire cucumber himself, plus cheese, plus hummus. Plus salt and pepper - no, excuse me - Mr. Salt and Mrs. Pepper.
6. Made fruit fly trap, check! What a great idea I snagged from The Idea Room and Passionate Homemaking. I caught the first fly within 5 minutes of making it! Productive, indeed!
   

Waiting Game

This week we went ahead and sent out about 13 more adoption inquiries at once (after the original 6-7 several weeks ago) because we realized rather quickly how rapidly your prospects diminish once you get the littlest bit of information back. These replies are how a number of our inquiries have been ruled out for us by the girls' case workers so far:

- already found a family - which is great!
- need to be the youngest in the family - most common response
- child is significantly older now than original listing said
- displays aggression toward younger boys
- displays provocative behaviors around boys
- only being considered for NC and GA families

Or we just plain haven't heard back from a handful, too. One girl in particular I was anxious to hear back about - it's been three weeks with no word. So I started contacting others about her. THEN I got a response ... that says please allow 4-6 weeks (!) for her case worker to get back to me. That is hard to hear. Over a month just to know if we should even consider her? Wow. Talk about wasting a child's time.

And our own case worker, for that matter, makes us wait for the dumbest things. She doesn't do what she says she will do. She forgets to follow through. She answers with frustratingly vague responses on emails that leave me having to ask several more times (plus wait the time again for her to respond) just to get the information I meant to get with my first email. I get really mad to think about how we are ready, how there are children who are ready, and yet we all wait for the workers and red tape in the middle to connect the dots. And even then you have to wait through those worker's sick days, weekends, poor work ethic, 30-40 case loads, forwarding of information, etc., etc.

So we wait. Honestly, it is so easy, so natural (for me, especially) to get mad about the wait. Waiting to be ignored or waiting to only find out very basic information that puts you back at square one....except a week/month later. I'm very much an "if you want something done right, you gotta do it yourself" kind of girl. So this forces me to put on my patient pants and respect the process and trust the Lord to handle these things. I was never in charge of this really. And for that matter, neither are the people that are in charge of this technically. HE numbers the hairs on my head, so I can take that to the bank, trusting that He has numbered the days/months that will be involved in our wait for our next child... and her wait for us. When I remember to think of it THAT way, I'm cool it.

I have also realized another reason to make my peace with the wait. I know that once it's over, I will miss these last months when it was just us and the two kids. I don't wanna wish or stress or hurry this time away - not only because it's just the four of us, but because Noah and Anna are so little and these moments are so fleeting. These are precious days and I will not let impatience steal these memories from me. I did that for Noah's first month of life when I had no control over parts of our adoption process that hit bumps in the road. I was so miserable about not being able to fix or move things along that I almost can't remember smiling for Noah's first month. That is a shame. I still hate you, American Adoptions, for fouling up what should have been a joyous time for me and my family, but I also take responsibility for my own angry, pity-me attitude. And I promise not to do that again while we brave this new (and tediously slow moving) territory of older child, domestic adoption.

In fact, I am determined to not just not complain or not get impatient during the wait. I determine, here and now, to praise the Lord for the wait and through the wait.

I know you, Lord. I trust you, Lord. I praise you, Lord. I can take the wait. Thank you for the blessing and protection and providence of what you are doing that I can't see.

And like that - the fret just flies away.

A Day in the Life Of

Tonight I'm just grinning at the sampling of events that is a day in my life with you, Noah.

• We start off the morning with me grumpy (I'm not a morning person) and you reminding me to get up from dozing on the couch (at 6:30 in the morning when I have been up since 5:30!) to give you your morning medicines. YOU are quite the morning person. You hit the ground running and talking and it's always a lot to take in right away.
• You ask me 20 times before we leave the house, where we are going and what time we will leave. Today it was your and Anna's My Gym classes.
• When we get to the garage to go, you have to run back in the house to retrieve Peter Pan, Hook, Mr. Smee, and Buzz Lightyear so you can play them with Bwody (Brody) while you wait for Anna's class to finish. In the car you sing softly to a song that talks about how God will never die.
• After gym and lunch (burritos made out of leftovers from dinner last night) we play outside in the heat and you cringe when I spray sunscreen on your neck. You pick me flowers and mushrooms and some strange little berries growing in the yard. I get uptight worrying you ate some, even though I told you not to and you said OK.
• You pitch a fit when it's time to come in so it's the perfect time for your nap - which, of course, is not really a nap because you don't sleep, but you do stay in bed looking at books until your CD plays the last song.
• In between post-nap and dinner, you crash cars, play farm with your barn, run and swing in the backyard, harass your sister til I am barking at you both (you for being a nuisance, and her for being whiny), and countdown til Daddy is done working. And you STILL haven't finished your milk from this morning. Why? Why won't you finish your milk anymore?
• You come into the kitchen at dinner asking Daddy if you can play eye patch. "Eye Patch?" I say. And you correct me quickly. Not eye patch, but iPad. Of course. The iPad. The words seem so surreal to hear coming out your mouth. iPad. But for the record, it could just as easily have been an eye patch you were asking for because you play pirate every day, sword fighting with your daddy. I love how you say, "Aye, Matey!"
• At dinner you don't want the noodles but you do want the broccoli. Then you start repeating me ... again. I say, "Anna, don't throw the food on the ground." You say, "Anna, don't frow a food on a gwownd." I say, "Noah, I don't need an echo." And you of course say back, "Noah, I don't need a echo." And I try to suppress it in the name of sternness and requiring obedience, but I can't help but to laugh which makes it worse. And Daddy says so - that I am making it worse - and I keep on laughing.
• I heart how you say "sikkee cup" for sippy cups. And "bobbum" for bottom. And "woof" for wolf.
• It's bedtime now and you and Daddy are playing games on his precious iPad and Daddy just exploded with excitement and praise because you did better than he did. And then you high fived each other.
• And now I look over and you are laying your head on Daddy's shoulder - watching while he takes a turn. Playing in the lowlight of the evening with no lights on in the living room except what comes from the iPad. You two are fun to watch together.

Goodnight, little boy. I love my days with you. But, I love bedtime, too. See you in the morning.

Right Foot, Third Toe

I am pretty sure if I ever had to go through labor, I would have been a screamer. I don't do pain well. It's my biggest fear in life, actually. I am real wimp. Which is why I carried on like a real baby several week backs when I stubbed my toe on the gate JOSH LEFT STICKING OUT farther than the wall upstairs AGAIN. I moaned, groaned, heaved, deep breathed, and half-shouted from upstairs as I tried to power through the pain without saying my favorite bad word. It really, really hurt.

All Josh cared to shout from the kitchen was, "Are you gonna survive?" I could hear the mocking smile in his voice when he asked, "Are you bleeding?"

"NO!" I shouted. "You don't bleed when you break a bone!" And when I said it I didn't really believe it was broken - I just wanted to feel a little more oomph to his response is all. I went on about my upstairs business, limping around, gathering laundry, cringing at the painful sensations, getting a shower, gritting my teeth, getting dressed, hobbling back downstairs. When I got there, though, I was still feeling shooting, burning pains that felt like the skin was ripping off, which it wasn't. That should have been a clue. I put my foot up on the couch and Noah, my sweet Noah, ran to get me his Thomas the Train ice pack. I believe I've mentioned before how much he digs ice packs.

Anna, well, Anna eats them. Within minutes she took it from me for her gnawing purposes. Anyway, after about half an hour, my toe didn't hurt anymore and I was walking around just fine (read - walking around without crying). We chalked it up to a close call.

By that night, however, my toe had begun swelling and bruising from the top joint up. All the way around. Front, back, sides - all purple, brown, and gross looking. Josh finally believed, at that point, that I really hurt it. It stayed that way for days. I took pictures of it for your viewing pleasure, but they never turned out as ugly as my toe really looked. And I just couldn't post a pic that didn't do it justice. Plus, there was a lot going on that weekend with Noah's birthday, family in town, and Nashville's flooding. My toe seriously got overlooked in all the other fuss.

After a week maybe, the bruising went away, and that's been that. But it seems the toe is still tender to the touch at times. And now that I look at it, it's healed in a more bulbous shape than its counterpart on my left foot. It's got that shape and shine to it now that matches my dad's and Josh's broken fingers that healed on their own in a sort of hunchback shape.

So now I'm convinced I broke it. And I should have milked it then for what it was worth. Talk about a missed opportunity! It snapped my 31 year run of never having broken a bone! Well, except for breaking my collarbone when I born because my 10 pound 11 oz. frame couldn't fit through my poor momma's little body, but that's another story.

What matters here is that everyone knows I broke a toe and lived to tell about it! And that it was Josh's fault. And that it's time I got a little retro credit/sympathy for the pain and suffering I endured and the way I really manned up about it. Right? That's gotta count for a hearty foot massage or something.

Just go easy on the top phalange (real word, no joke) of the third toe on my right foot. (Seriously - phalange? Is anyone else laughing with me about that one? Throwback term to some old Friends episodes? Pheobe's favorite pseudonym? Anyone?)

Future Fashionista

Tonight Anna accessorized all by herself from the dress-up bin.

She donned a pink cowgirl hat.
A stethoscope.
A tu-tu.
Green froggy crocs. On the wrong feet.
And bunny ears.
Of course.

Things He Said This Week

Noah and I were eating lunch at the table. It was so quiet, Anna was napping, we were chewing. Out of nowhere he says, "Mommy, you face wook wike Mimmie and Papa." And I guess it does. I was just taken aback by the fact that he noticed.

While I tried to get his pants buttoned after he went potty, Noah backs up and swing his arms around saying that when he is "oh-der" (older) he is gonna be a "baseball hitter."

Earlier this week, I slipped Noah a new, healthier snack - a big pretzel stick. He took one big bite and promptly dropped it out of his mouth back onto the plate and exclaimed, "Dat taste wike dog streets!" (dog treats) How he knows what a dog treat tastes like is a mystery to me. I laughed pretty hard at the vehemence with which he said it. Today, I gave him some chips during his snack, to which he said, "I wike you chips. They not taste wike dog streets."

Noah watched me grab a pen and paper (I was jotting down this stuff he's been saying before I forgot them). He assumed that I was writing out a grocery list (because that's all a mommy has on her mind, of course). He says, "Guess what else we need?! Gummy bears!" Like I said in his birthday letter, that boy is faithful, FAITHFUL, to remind me what groceries we need.

I giggled at one of his silly moods and told him he is my sweetie pie. He replied, playfully although indignantly, "I not a sweetie pie!"

After watching Ni-Hao Kailan talk about forgiveness, he turns to Anna, cups her face with both his hands and coos, "I give you, Anna. I give." I think he is still a little confused on the meaning and use of the word forgive though, because the next day he ran Anna over and when she fell apart crying, he tried to calm her down by reassuring her that he "gives" her. Adorable. Misguided, but adorable.

Noah gets spanks now if he wets his pants - which doesn't happen often, mind you - but it does happen. This week it happened when he didn't want to stop playing outside to come in and do his business and I noticed HOURS later that his shorts, thick jean shorts, were wet all the way through. Afterward, after spanks and tears and lunch and calm again, he said, "I sawwy I pee in my pants, Mommy. I sawwy." I said I was sorry he did that, too, because I don't like having to spank him. He saw his window of opportunity, the wide open gaping hole in my line of reasoning, and offered a solution, kind and sacrificial soul that he is. "You not have to spank me next time, Ok? You not have to."

Quote: Vacation

Last night, I snagged this little nugget of truth-humor from Modern Family, a show that keeps Josh and me in stitches every Wednesday night.

Phil: Honey, c'mon. Let's turn this vacation into a honeymoon.
Clair: Sweet pea, I'm a mom travelling with my kids. For me, this is not a vacation; this is a business trip.

Farewell, Good Friends

Poor me.
Mother's Day Out ends next week and I am mourning the loss already. I love you, MDO. You are my sanity saver.

I would remiss in my praise of MDO, however, if I didn't give credit to this year's wonderful teachers. Anna's first year was a rip-roaring success with Mrs. Leanna who loves Anna almost as much as I do. Leaving Anna in her arms every Tuesday and Thursday was always a comfort. Leanna was so careful, gentle, attentive, and proud of my girl, come moody moment or not. Don't let the stinkpot in this picture give you the wrong idea though. She loves her Mrs. Leanna and feels safe in her presence, she just resents me taking pictures of it. I think she might still be sore about the Boo-Boo photo debacle from yesterday.


Noah and I have a really soft spot for his Mrs. Kristie. She has been his wonderful teacher for a solid year now as she had Noah for summer MDO and then again for this school year. She's seen Noah through a lot of growing and she has been one of his biggest, brightest fans. Noah and I would both be so sad whenever a sub showed up and we'd be so hopeful that she would return again soon. I think Noah will not understand why she is not around when school starts again in the fall. It's just common knowledge that when you are in your "skoo cwass" you have a "Miss Kersey".

We're so sad to let you go, MDO! We love you, Mrs. Kristie and Mrs. Leanna! Thank you for the fun, giggles, learnin', encouragement, and love, love, love this year.

I Like to Move It, Move It

For Noah's birthday we gave him a musical card that dons the penguins from Madagascar (not that we have even seen that movie yet) and plays "I like to Move it" when you open the card. This was amusing to us because it so matches Noah's bootie shake tendencies. And because it's a throwback to when he first loved this song as a baby. Well, when his daddy loved this song for him when he was a baby.

Pardon Me and My Words

pasturage
prattling
musculature
edict
unspool
wangled
grizzled
swath
derring-do
repartee
octillion
windswept
hummock
craggy
calliope
culled
schism
irksome
shrift

Comedy, Tragedy

Anna took her first official "flying leap" today and scuffed up both her knees. She wasn't really upset until the blood started to trickle down her leg and then it was panic time. But, she felt worlds better once she got her very own warranted Neosporin and band-aids. Before today, she has only ever needed band-aids to alleviate her covetousness when Noah got them. But today, oh today, she earned her own red badge of courage and that was something to glow about.


Until the mood passed, that is. She's crying here because she is tired of her shutterbug momma making her sit still for more pictures documenting "Baby's First Boo-Boo." Actually, I was trying to coax her into pointing to her boo-boos, but she was over it by the third shot and never once cooperated with the pointing. The moment had passed.


And I just think it's ironic that she cried more about the boo-boo photo shoot than she did for the actual boo-boo, where the tears should have been. (exhale). Women.

Happy Muvver's Day

I didn't really think Noah got what Mother's Day was for earlier today. He was chomping at the bit to open my presents for me first thing this morning and then later on he said, "Happy momma's day, Anna!" But then, while I was taking pics of the gifts Josh got me, ahem -Noah and Anna got me, he said, "You wike you pwesents?" Surprised he thought to ask me that, I said I did. He said, "for muvver's day today. Not bortday. Just muvver's day." So he does get that it's not about him today! Now that that's settled...

I'm starting to really like Mother's Day. It's like I get to play a get-out-of-jail-free pass (not that kids = jail - it's just a good example) for any and everything all weekend, cuz hey - it's Mother's Day, and hey - I am one! :) In the name of Mother's Day weekend, I did not cook, I did not clean (except I did do some laundry), I did not have to get up with the kids, and I took TWO naps. And I got these sweet treats from my sweet husband, I mean, my sweet kids.

This is my first WillowTree figurine that has both kids in it. So it's a special addition to my collection. (We'll just pretend that it's a boy and girl in the momma's arms, ok? Anna's hair is still short as a boy's anyway.)


Pretty paper for my lists, lists, and more lists.


That man got me a box of 24 of these! Goodness gracious. Yum! But, oh, the temptation.


In other Mother's Day weekend memories, we went shopping at yard sales in the neighborhood, scoring a leather dress-up cowboy vest and a little play barn for the kids' animal stash. Total for both was 75 cents. :)


Then we went to the park.



Josh created a puppet show theater from the box our patio furniture came in.


Anna upgraded to eating at the table with us instead of off to the side on her booster-seat tray. I think she looks precious pulled up to the table and it is neat to have all 4 of us there at last.


But I think two things that make me grin the most from this weekend are the song Noah made up about how he would "obey to Mommy" and the feel of Anna's arms tight around my neck after we taught her how to give a proper hug. The best part of being mommy is loving these babies of mine. So really, every day is mother's day to me...minus the shameless napping and lack of cooking and cleaning, that is. :)

Regardless, Happy (official) Muvver's Day, y'all!

So Sad it's Over

I am so sad to have finished up As Sure as the Dawn today, the last book in the Mark of the Lion trilogy by Francince Rivers. It was a fantastic series and I'd recommend it to anyone who enjoys novels. I devoured all three books for the excellent story, the telling, the history, and the wonderful words I read along the way. This is the last installment of vocabulary I gleaned from this trilogy:

• upstart
• deviled
• invective
• guffaw
• terebinth
• riffling
• ferocity
• mercurial
• sweeting
• accede
• upended
• festooned
• balefully
• implacable
• derisive
• akimbo
• plaudits
• machinations
• sagacity
• acrid
• mewling
• bandied
• amenable
• disaffection
• rioutous
• quay
• cur
• rapt
• adulation
• protestations
• becalmed
• amphora
• misgivings
• proferred
• onerous
• largess
• reticence
• amoratae
• garbly
• morass
• niggling
• sojourners
• copse
• beatific
• infernal
• brigands
• crystalline
• obduracy
• perfunctory
• buffeted
• torpidness
• effrontery
• allay
• maelstrom
• augury
• runes
• under-chief
• unfettered
• recant
• gutteral
• baritus
• lambastes
• telltale
• indistinct
• valorous
• vitriol
• belladonna
• unduly
• fracas
• richness
• interloper
• rancorous
• marauding
• subterfuge
  

This Week

Our fish survived their dramatic episode earlier this week. And, for the record, so did I, but just barely. I was so worked up over that and other stay-at-home mom minutia that I was in tears standing over the stove cooking dinner. And my gentle husband just hugged me and let me have my moment.

So yeah. Nashville flooded last weekend during Noah's birthday, before, and after. It's been a shocking week around town for sure. And not that a flood is funny, but I did find it funny how it flooded on Noah's birthday. Noah, flood, just saying.

Noah had his annual check up at the allergist. We found out, yet again, that the boy is one extreme case of allergic. Stage 5 to be exact. Which causes Dr. Babe's eye to sort of bug out of his head as he tries to explain how rare that is, and even more so, how rare that is in one so young. And that is just from his blood test LAST year as a three year old. Wow. Dr. Babe said, let me put it you this way. There are 6 stages and no one is ever stage 6. Some practices only recognize up to stage 5. And, get this. To be considered just stage 2 you would have igE of .15. Noah comes in at 17. No point anything. Just all the way out there at 17. Oh. My poor baby.

On a happier note, the pollen has not bothered Noah in the least this year. And he hasn't needed his nebulizer in over a year. And it seems his cat sensitivity is less now, enough so that the dr. suggested we expose him to a cat every now and then in small increments, but by no means is he well enough to get one. Which, hello, who would? Everyone knows Dogs Rule!

This year will be my fifth mother's day as a mother and for some reason it still doesn't feel like it's my holiday. Still feels a bit novel. Is it just me? I didn't even think about how the kids would be making me mother's day stuff at school and then there they were with their sweetie pie surprises complete with painted handprints and candies and I love you rhymes and tape and glue and paper that fall apart on the way home. I gotta get a grip. I'm the mommy now. Or one of them at least.

We sent out about 6 adoption inquiries this week. As a result, for this stage of the narrowing down process, 2 were counted out after hearing back from their case workers (one needed to be the youngest in the home, the other was only being considered for NC and GA families). Still waiting to hear back about the remaining girls. We have 5 more girls to inquire about after that group if need be.

To My Noah at 4

Oh my Noah - Happy birthday!

Little boy, I love you to pieces. Can it only have been 4 years now that I have known such a love? I swear I have joy to count for twice that! I love you and this life we have with your Daddy and Anna. What's more, I just plain old LIKE you and the creature you have become, although I never can tell from day to day, heck - hour to hour, what that creature will be. Just this morning you were a baby screaming while we held you down for your shot, after that you were my studious helper while I ran errands, at lunch a pirate wielding your foamy sword in the car, this afternoon a martial artist coming home from your karate orientation, and this evening a prince kissing my chin after your frisbee hit my face. In other moments today you were a couch potato, a monster-truck driver, a video gamer, a builder, a singer, and as always, you were a patient waiter. My heart treasures each moment, mood, and imaginative play I get to watch you experience. And this past year did not disappoint as you grew into your four-year-old self.

I know your earlier years were packed with big milestones, but somehow this past year has felt bigger to me - your milestones so much more independent in nature. I've had to catch my breath and beam with pride in observance of each new step you have taken. In this past year you have gone from size 2T to 4T. You don't take naps anymore (but we have instituted quiet time in your bed), you are potty trained (except for nights), you sleep in a twin bed (instead of a toddler bed), you ride a big boy bike (with training wheels, thankyouverymuch), you wash your own hands (but you drip water everywhere), you wipe your own bootie (though I ask you not to because you get it on your hands), you don't need a booster seat anymore (but I put a towel on your seat to catch the mess you make), you can pee standing up WITHOUT a step stool (but you sometimes miss and you never flush), you can get your own drink from the fridge (though you sometimes leave the door hanging open), we can easily communicate (whereas last year I worried much about your speech), and now the neighbor boys look at you like you are worth their time - now that you are a big, bad 4 year old. You're not too big though. At your check up you weighed in at 33 lbs. and 38 inches. This means you are still small for your age, but it was also means you have gained on your peers a little. Last year you were in the 5th percentile. This year you come in at 10-25 percentile.

Last night you challenged me to a sword fight, but my sword was in the other room, so I used my leg, which I think gave me the advantage because you were too busy giggling to keep my jabs at bay. A couple months ago you and I took turns rolling around on the couch and floor to store up static. Then we'd carefully reach out and touch each other and exaggerate how big the shock was that we created. I think of another moment several months back where I had mercy on you at the last minute after we talked, not delivering the spanking you had earned. You were so shocked and relieved to find out you did not have to take the spanking, you threw your arms around my neck and breathed such a sigh of joy. And you said so authoritatively, 'I wuv you, mommy!" These are the moments when I thank the Lord for my little boy. What an adventure and full heart you bring to me. I store up these memories and more. Things like:

• How you chase and catch your bubbles on the bubble wand - today bringing me a bubble on a flower. When I exclaimed that it was the prettiest flower I'd ever gotten, you said I was a princess.
• How you run to grab an ice pack for anyone who's hurt - you really dig ice packs.
• How unselfish you are - with your toys, your treats, your turns, your time.
  
• How you so animatedly remind me what to put on the shopping list as I head out the door, usually bananas or yogurt.
• How your spirit will rise up when I tell you to be tough like a man when you are tempted to give in to a crying fit.
  
• How you remind me of what I've forgotten. You say "Got sumpin, Mommy!" and your eyebrows are raised up and your expression is so earnest.
• How you struggle with obeying right away - you try to take a misbehavior back, or promise to not do it again, or say you're sorry over and over "I sawwy, I sawwy!", or "Pweese, pweese, pweese!?"
• How desperately you cry when it is time to turn off the video games.
• How you call Anna your baby.
• How you repeat your question/comment when you are talking to Anna.
  
• How you sing to yourself while you play video games. So light of heart.
• How you stand up behind your chair to watch your favorite movies because you anticipate a scary scene coming up - a leopard pouncing, or a character shouting suddenly, or a bad guy jumping out.
• How you compare every book or movie's bad guy to the sea witch from The Little Mermaid.
• How you try to be so sneaky playing with your private part, or picking your nose, or holding a bowel movement in, or stealing a sip of my coke, or sneaking a grape from the fridge w/o asking, or most recently fishing through my junk drawer when I leave the room.
• How you remember to ask if a new food has peanuts in it or not.
• How you enjoy your nightly yogurt with Daddy and Anna - how you run to get it and a big spoon.
• How you are such a great puzzle solver - working with 24+ piece puzzles right now.
• How you enjoy doing Waterford on your computer at night.
• How you love songs that have motions to go with them.
• How you know more people at church than I do.
• How quickly you pick up video game and computer skills.
• How you have gone through movie phases - Dumbo, Mulan, Little Mermaid, Brother Bear, Tarzan, Toy Story, Polar Express.
• How you have moved on from Max and Ruby to Barney, Curious George, and Diego.
• How you still stick out your tongue when you are concentrating really hard.
• How you play with your Toy Story and Peter Pan figurines. How you whisper the words you have them say to each other.
• How raspy your voice is by the end of the day.
• How motivated you are by praise and by consistent examples.
• How you are reassured by knowing what to expect, what comes next, what is expected of you, or where we are going tomorrow.
• How you act the clown if it draws a good laugh from anyone.
• How observant you are, even if it means you are observing classmates instead of your teachers.
• How your heart breaks when Anna ruins your constructions or completed puzzles.
• How committed you are to drawing circles and happy faces over and over again, but how you don't care one iota to color anything.
• How you attempt to stay in the lines when you do color, just because I have pointed it out to you.
• How you are learning to let me be Anna's boss, not you -I have to get on to you for sending Anna to time-out.
• How you are learning not to say, "I can't do it! I can't do it!" and not to speak to mommy and daddy with a bad attitude (disrespectfully) and how not to shout at Anna and how not to backtalk (you clasp your lips shut with your finger and you look like a duck).
• How you don't quite understand why you shouldn't also expect Mommy and Daddy to obey YOU. Ha!
• How long it took us to break you of your habit of spanking Anna, even though it was just play.
• How you ask when Daddy will get home every 30 minutes when he's gone on trips for work.
• How you can't figure out how to put your underwear on the right direction, but you keep trying.
• How proud you are of the fact that you can put your own shoes on now, but how much effort it still takes, and how you don't give up, but you do have frustrated outbursts sometimes in the process.
• How you and Anna end up sitting side by side on the floor or couch watching TV.
• How you try to coax Anna into napping early when you don't think I can hear you so that you can play your video games sooner.
• How musty your head smells because your hair is so thick and you sweat so much in your sleep, often with your covers completely over your head (your daddy and I don't know how you can breathe under there).
• How you fall asleep so quickly at night and don't wake up if we come in to check on you.
• How you are obsessed with going on a bear hunt lately
• How you stick your musical recorder down the back of your shirt pretending it's a machete like the warriors in Mulan.
• How you bite your nails now and I can't blame you or stop you because I do, too.
• How you ask us to sing "Let Me Hold You" to/with you - the song we made up with you on the back porch - sung to the tune of Shortenin' Bread.
• How you throw the frisbee with your left hand, but draw with your right.
• How you grip the bat left-handed, but swing as if you are right handed.
• How you adore you Daddy and monopolize all his attention when he is not working (sometimes still when he is).
• How your farewells have taken a humorous turn that has become tradition...getting longer and more silly all the time - Goodbye Daddy BuzzBob tiger lion bird alligator dude!
• How you humor Anna with bedtime kisses even when you couldn't care less some nights.
  
• How your favorite friends are Brandon and Baron (the brothers who live next door), Nathan and Katie (friends from school), Brooklyn and Natalie (cousins), Drew and Mr. Mike (from church).
• How handsome you are. How kind you are. How willing to learn you are.
• How proud but emotional I get at the thought of you starting preschool next year... 5 days a week! How will I get by without you? Anna will be just lost without you!
• How reliable your morning and night routines are: A.M. You come downstairs (one thump per stairstep at a time) when your timer nightlight comes on at 6:45ish. You always bring your bunny and lately I've started making you take him back right away. You go straight to the bathroom to get that wet pull-up off and then you watch TV with Anna until you both really wake up. And somewhere in there you get your morning medicines and a banana. P.M. Around 6:00 Daddy alternates baths and if Anna goes first, you watch Dora. After your bath, you get your nighttime medicines, lotions, vitamins and you play in your room with Daddy and/or me and Anna (or not, depending on time and behavior - it's iffy now that you don't nap). At bedtime @ 7:00 you brush your teeth and go potty one more time and have one of us carry you upstairs "like a tortilla" or course. You read books and pray and go right to sleep with your "Sing Over Me" cd playing. Lately you act as if you are scared of things you see in the shadows of your room, so now you have a nightlight just for good measure.

Especially this year as your speech has increased and improved, I've treasured the things you say or how you say them. I've always got a list going of these sorts of things you say:

• What time Anna get bigger? (wondering when she'll be able to play more things)
• What time you get tiny? (wondering when it would be my turn to be a baby)
• Moke (milk)
• Papa John Cheese (parmesan cheese)
  
• Airpane port (airport)
• Bortday (birthday)
• One More (lawn mower)
• Boon (spoon)
• hooj (Huge)
• nakkin (napkin)
• Turn dat down (speaking of the radio), I tell you a secwett. (it's never anything secretive, but I guess you think the quietness makes it so).
• You mix up prepositions a lot: I do dis to (for) you. What dat called about? Wait to (for) me. I make dis to (for) you.
• When Anna attempted to use the potty, you remarked "Dat nice bootie!"
• When you reach for a chip from the bag you say you want a "big, tall one".
• When I told you to stop telling me you're sorry you answered, "But I wuv you!"
• When you turned the sink water on too hard, you called "Help, Help, Everybody Help!"
• After lunch one day you asked me to help because you had "made a terrible mess". It was only a few streaks of sticky on the table.
• If something happens AGAIN in your day, you say it "happens all day wong!"
• Or if I ask you something AGAIN, you say "I aweddy tell you two times!" and now we tell you to stop saying this because it has gone from adorable to disrespectful.
• You are so well trained to ask for things with a 'May I' that now when you want us to do something, you say (for example), "May I you get that to me - I no reach it."
• You are so used to saying things are a great idea that now when you don't like an idea you say, "I no wike dat gwate idea."
• You delight in the novelty of saying mommy and daddy's grown up names when asked. You say Joshua well enough, but my names comes out "Kimuhwee Bwown."
  
• At your gym class you can always be trusted to tell the teachers on your turn that you want to do it "aww by seff" (all by yourself).
• At bedtime you always ask Daddy to carry you upstairs like a sack of tatos (potatos) or a tortilla.
• You are an encourager - Great jump, Daddy!; Tank you for cooking!; Good job, Mommy!; Anna, you're bootuhful!; I wike dat - dat's my favewitt!; Anna's so cute!
• You surprise me with words or expressions like, "Oh, I see!", Waydee and Gemmemiz (ladies and gentlemen), Amazing!, Episode, echument (instrument), to the rescue, accident, stretching, magazine.
• You cautioned Daddy about his coffee, telling him to put it "wite here so you don't spiw it".
• While Daddy slept in his chair, you took off his glasses, pried his eyelids open, smacked his cheeks and complained that "daddy no talking to me" Then you told me to be sure NOT to wake Daddy up. Ha!
• I often encourage you to be strong like a man - so the other day it didn't surprise me to hear you say that you are a strong man. Or since I tell you when you do something awesome, last time you agreed with me and said, "Yes, I am!"
• The other day I told Anna to relax. You followed my cue and said, "Wax, Anna. Wax wike me!"
• I always melt when I hear you sing "Zewwus, Zewwus, eh eh eh eh, zewwus..." from your Songs for Saplings CD (words are supposed to be Zealous, Zealous, God tells us to be zealous).
• There is a quarry we pass on the way to school, and you often remind me that when you get big, when you "be a gwown up", that you will "cwimb dat mountain" and that daddy will catch you. Then you ask if there are bears on that mountain.
• While I watched Survivor the other night, you ran by the TV, and catching a glimpse of Rupert (a rough and bearded looking fellow), you called behind you, "Dat Jesus?"
• When I told you Mimmie and Papa were coming on your birthday, you said, "And Santa, too?"
• You often say "Dat might be.... fun, yummy, good, etc." And "Not too .... cold, scary, bad, far, etc".
• You don't just say school or class. It's always "skoo cwass".
  
• The exasperation in your tone and expression tickles me when you shout something like "My. Twuck. Hurt. My. Finger!" from the next room.
  
• You were upset at not being able to get your shoe on by yourself, especially when you hurt yourself in the process. I called from the kitchen that I was sorry. And you called back, "Not you, Mommy. My SHOE hurt me."
• When we talked to you about being ready to share your things with Brandon, you jumped up and ran to your pajama drawer and said that "he might wike to wear this. Might not be too big."
• When I got real frustrated because your doctor's office was unexpectedly not open, I got in the car and called Daddy to vent. When I got off the phone, you got my attention and tried to soothe me by saying "I sawwy dat dottor not open. Mommy, I sawwy."
• If you want me to wake up from dozing on the couch in the morning, you try to pull my eyes open and say "Wake up, Mommy. Sun is out."
• When you saw me in my robe and my hair was up in a towel, you said, "You wike a pwincess".
• It's not uncommon for you to ask us to take a picture of your bootie. Or for you to start singing, "Shake a bootie, shake, shake, a bootie". Or for you to just exclaim "bootie spank!" ... just to hear the words.
• When I was explaining that your birthday is when we celebrate the day you came out of Tania's belly 4 years ago, you piped up and said, "and when I came out Tana's bewwy I say "suhpwise eh ree one!"

I know this list may be a jumbled mess, but that is how these moments come. They just wash over me day in and day out and I can't keep up. And that's ok. I collect what pieces I can knowing I will be glad to have this mess of memories when you are all grown and gone. Maybe you will be glad for them, too. (at any rate - three cheers for mommy for discovering the button for making this list bulleted!)

In my defense of how embarrassingly long this birthday post is, I have to point out that it's not just me, you know. Yes, I am over the moon for you, son, and I could write a book about all your ways and words and wiles. But lots of other people think you're great, too. You are easy to like. People respond to you even when you just stand silently in the room. I am just the lucky one who gets to toot your horn for you. I always glow at the compliments people pay you - teachers, nurses, family, friends, babysitters, repairmen, cashiers, etc. But my favorite comment came from a perfect stranger this year and I think it sums things up just right. You and I were running an errand alone (your allergy shots, actually). We approached a man at the crosswalk and after watching you walk with me, obey me, interact with me, comment on the leaves and birds, he said to me with the warm grin "You are a blessed lady." I couldn't even pretend to be shy or unassuming about that one, about you. I agreed with a grin and nod as I proudly held your hand. And I am, baby bear. I am a blessed mama. You make me so. I love you. I love you. I love you.

I am so proud of the little man you are becoming.
Happy Birthday, baby.
Mommy

PS - I didn't finish this post in time for your birthday on May 2, but May 4 is a special day, too. It was your original due date, and it ended up being the day you were released from the hospital into our custody. It was the day we got to take you home to Memaw and Papa John's where we stayed for a whole month in FL.