Post Category → motherhood

william bo dilliam

There’s another little man in my life. He reminds me every day that he’s not just the baby anymore. Nope, he’s all boy.

Right now, he’s playing on the kitchen floor with his big brother’s train station and trains. His crazy wiggles and scooches and squirms manage to get him where he wants to go. Now and then he looks up at me with the biggest of smiles and laughs. Then he gets himself up onto his hands and knees, rocks back and forth a bit, and starts the whole routine over again.

He’s perfected the art of the fake laugh, as this is the surest way to get a chuckle out of the rest of us. And he loves nothing more than to see a room full of laughing people.

He puts his hand to his ear and says something similar to “Hi.”

He waves to airplanes and says something along the lines of “Bye-bye” as they disappear beyond the treetops.

He sits on my lap for book after book after book, especially if it’s something good and fun like Pat the Bunny.

And recently, he screws his face up into an expression of full-fledged fury and screams at me when something doesn’t go the way he thinks it should. And you should see the bottom lip and sad eyes he fixes on his daddy when Mama says No.

But his toes are still the yummiest baby toes in the world. Not that I’ve been nibbling or anything.

books: future men

I’ve read quite a few good books in the last 6 (or so) months. I won’t tell you about how much I love Poirot, how my very first Dorothy Sayers novel kept me from household responsibilities (and sleep) until I finished it, or how glad I was for an excuse to read several Dear Diary books. But there are several reads that, I think, are worth mentioning.

This is the first.

Overall, fabulous.

He challenges us to a close look at biblical masculinity, lest we confuse it with current culture’s expectations. This trickles down to what to expect from your young hooligan (and what to allow — outdoors), how to approach education, how to interact with mothers and sisters, and what manners to enforce and why. It also means teaching boys to value wisdom, work and diligence, purity, strength, justice, prudence, and respect. (Those also are all topics well-covered in the book.)

As I read, I was inspired by the call to shape fine, strong arrows — to rise to the task of training young men who will take the world by storm. And of course, inherent in all that I mentioned above is the expectation that parents must first model and show their commitment to godliness in incredibly practical, every-single-day ways.

(One of my favorite tid-bits? The difference between rest and laziness: Rest is preparation for continued work. I like that.)

lately

:: I’ve been taking care of an under-the-weather Jameson. And marveling at the long, scrawny boy he’s become. He’s been talking about his birthday for months now, and a couple of weeks ago, amazed me by holding up three fingers and telling me that’s how old he’ll be. Who taught him that?? He can’t wait. What does he want for his birthday?

“Cake.”

Easy-peasy.


on tip-toes, watching the lawn crew

:: I’ve been smiling at William’s chubby California-baby toes. Nice and brown. And adorable. I could eat them. I’ve also been laughing lots, thanks to his constant attempts at humor. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a baby so eager to laugh and make laugh. It’s awesome.

There have been lots of frustrated cries the last couple of weeks, because he gets down on his belly and then is stuck. I smile as I watch those brown toes pushing against the floor for all they’re worth, trying so desperately to move forward. But I get a little catch in my heart, too. Remember my new baby William? Well, he disappeared before I even had a chance to notice. And I love this little guy who excitedly reads books with me, does adorable dances to any and all music, and belly-laughs at his brother’s [naughty] antics, but. But.


chubby toes

:: I’ve been looking forward to Ryan’s return from work each evening. Some weeks don’t seem quite so long, but this one has, and I just like it so much better when he’s around. So do my boys. And did I mention that he watched both boys here at home last Sunday while I went to see Julie and Julia and then went out for dinner? Yes, he did. I was very, very blessed. He tells me in a million ways how much he loves me.


out with his boys

:: I’ve been thinking about joy. Actually, that’s always on my mind after a trip back home. There are just so many people who have purposed to live out joy, people who I know have been around the block a few times, people who just set their sites more firmly on the prize to come — and somehow that infuses here and now with joy.

It doesn’t come naturally for me, this joy thing. There’s a tad too much pessimism and idealism in there. (How is it that I ended up with all the cons of my temperament, while she got all the pros?) But the good news is that the Scripture’s command to rejoice is just that: a command. Do joy.

I want to do joy. There’s just so much life in the exuberance of pure, Jesus-inspired joy. It’s battery-charging to be around, you know? Shouldn’t our countenance remind fellow pilgrims of our journey’s destination, and speak of Good News to the world?

Loving this quote on joy.

leftovers

Years ago I heard that Susan Brown, mother of many, would say that some days all the devotions she could get was reading a Bible story to her kids. That, I knew, was something worth remembering.

Fast forward to this past week, and you’ll find me reading Bible stories to Jameson at lunch every day. He’s recently become very enamored with Jesus, and wants nothing to do with Old Testament stories (even though, you know, every story whispers His name…) He’s not happy unless I can point to the illustration of Jesus — and then we can proceed. Anyway, his very favorite selection he calls The Food Story, otherwise known to us more learned adults as The Feeding of the 5,000. We’ve read it many times.

And can I just say, wow.

I’m so blessed by that story.

I’ve noticed this week that:

:: Jesus used kid food. Nothing fancy, just, you know, pb&j. Kinda like me. I don’t usually feel much more special than that.

:: Jesus took what wasn’t enough to begin with and managed to end up with leftovers. Leftovers. The mere mention of the word abundance makes my dry and tired soul stir, and that’s the word I see all over Jesus’ miracle.

:: Jesus lifted this piddly little lunchbox to heaven, blessed it, and… it was still a piddly lunchbox. But it managed to feed 5,000. And I think, how often do I say, “God, You’re going to have to multiply my grace/patience/ability/energy, because it’s just not enough,” and then I expect to see some abra cadabra za-za-zing thing happen, when that’s just not Jesus’ style. There was no *poof* moment when suddenly, before their very eyes, the mountaintop was covered with loaves and fish[es]. And there just may not ever be that moment in my life, either. And that’s okay. He can still feed 5,000.

:: And there will be leftovers. Did I mention that? Amazing.

So yeah. I look around at the untidy corners and surfaces of my house, see my boys who need, need, need, wonder what’s for dinner because I’m starving, not to even mention my poor husband, and there is never a Fairy Godmother who shows up and snaps her magic fingers. But there’s me, humble and pb&j-ish as I am, and I never look like much more than how I started, but amazingly, He multiplies. I put my hand to the plow, lift my efforts to heaven, say, “Use me to feed them,” and He does.

And maybe, just maybe, there will even be leftovers.

more “new things”

Jameson has been cracking us up lately. And making us think, “Man, kids are amazing. How does he know all of these phrases and concepts?” What little sponges!

Along with garage sale goodies, last week we made one of the more significant purchases of our married life: the long-awaited (by Ryan!) flat panel TV. After getting by with humongous freebies for the last four years, a rearrangement of living room furniture “necessitated” an upgrade. So one evening last week, Ryan came home with a huge box (and quickly assured me that the box was much bigger than the actual television!), and Jameson excitedly danced around, waiting to see what this obviously momentous surprise was. As Ryan opened the packaging and lifted the TV out of the box, Jameson, with wide eyes, whispered, “That’s awesome, Dad!”

We didn’t even know he knew that word! (Perhaps his uncle Merrick helped him make the association of big screens = awesome? Ha!)

The next evening as we were sitting together, I asked Jameson to do something, and he quickly replied, “No.” (Which is a new thing, but not all that funny!) Ryan promptly stood up, signifying that this was not going to pass unnoticed. Jameson just as quickly got up, sailed past his father, came to me and said, “Sorry, Mama, no-ing you. [Okay, more funniness!]” I told him I forgave him, and he turned to Ryan with a totally serious face and said in the most old-man in-charge tone of voice, “That’s it, Dad.” And went back to his seat.

We died laughing. Obviously any attempt at disciplining had been thwarted!

What’s not-so-new is the Daddy Adoration that goes on around here. William has always been enthusiastic about Ryan’s return from work, but lately, he goes into full frenzy mode the minute he hears Ryan’s voice, and I had better get him to his father quickly or else it’s hysteria! So cute, I have to say.

recent events

This is the last week of the girls’ visit.

I can’t decide if I’m sad or glad, since the end of their visit means the beginning of my visit back home. That should just make me glad all around, but I’d be gladder (yes, gladder) if they were also coming back here with me at the end of my NY trip. But they’re not. When we fly out of JFK in August, it will just be the four of us, me and my three boys, and when we land on this Opposite Coast, we’ll be on our own. Walks and errands and chores and life will be all on my lonesome again. And I just like it all a bit better when there are these lovely girls in the picture.

It’s been fun.

This last week has also been a bit of a sleeper, since more often than not, someone has been a tad under the weather. And on the days when we are feeling well, the temperatures have been ridiculously high, leaving us all wilted, sitting in front of fans, willing the day and its intense sun away. So not so many crazy events.

Just a few, like:

:: taking the girls to Carmel-By-The-Sea, and then on the drive of a lifetime. I speak, of course, of Highway 1 to Big Sur. Incredible. Windy, whippy, and awe-inspiring.


Aren’t they cute?

:: finally going out for dinner, just Ryan and me, for our anniversary. (Four years!) It was oo-la-la fancy. Two whole hours just disappeared as we ate beautiful food and talked. (I know, I know. I’m such a girl. Wives and their talking.) Just in case anyone’s interested, the scallops were the best I’ve ever tasted, I ordered squab because I watch too much Top Chef and had to grab this prime opportunity to taste something I never even see on a menu, and the chocolate souffle is as decadent as it looks on their website. (Don’t you wish that was your spoon, dipping into that chocolatey goodness?) We tried taking a picture of ourselves, but I guess this is the only one we ended up with:

(Thanks, girls, for our special night out alone!)

:: and last, but most definitely not least, there are the events of yesterday and today — days that were supposed to be restful, quiet, and cool. But oh, no, Jameson made sure there were Events. Like yesterday — when he woke up from his nap ridiculously early, crept into the girls’ bed, smeared an entire tube of lipstick all over their bags, clothes, sheets, and the wall, ransacked the closet of their suitcases, my fabric, and the wrapping paper, and was about to start cutting into that wrapping paper with my incredibly sharp embroidery scissors just as Camilla walked by. Oh, I loved that Event!! And today, when it seemed far too quiet, I sent Liana to check on my sweet little boy, and she found him lounging outside on our patio furniture, with a jar of peanut butter, happily eating that peanut butter by plunging his entire hand into the jar. Oh, and we’re not talking the nice creamy Peter Pan stuff. Oh, no, this is the all-natural, runny, drippy, globs all over the place peanut butter.

Is anyone interested in a 2-year-old Events Coordinator? I think my life needs a little break from his Events!