Sweet Hearts

Sometimes I worry about the future.

I realize that that statement does nothing to set me apart as unique...and everything to show that I'm just like almost every other person on this beautiful spinning ball we call Earth.  But even though worrying is a common condition for us humans, I believe it's not only wrong, but also completely useless!  It doesn't change anything.

When I think about the days to come, I never worry about money, rarely worry about health, but often feel concern about how my kids will turn out.  Not only do I hope they'll be kind and honest and friendly and helpful, I also, to borrow Sally's words from a comment on my last post, "want my children there in that spiritual family SO BADLY."  I know exactly how she feels.

At times, I wonder how the teen years will go for us.  In the same way that I don't buy into the mindset that the toddler years have to be atrocious, I also don't believe that the teen years have to be horrible.  But I do realize that there is a natural, God-ordained, breaking-away process that occurs during those years, and I wonder whether I--and my sons--will be able to handle that with grace and dignity.

When thoughts of the future crowd into my mind and threaten to tarnish the present, this thought comes back to me over and over and brings comfort to replace my anxiety:  I still have their hearts.

I don't know what the future holds.  I don't know how they'll act in 10 years.  I don't know what kind of heartbreak may come to me as I watch them make choices to which I'm totally opposed.

But here and now, on this day in January 2011, I still have their hearts.  They are still tender towards me.  They are not, however, little robots who obediently do whatever I ask them without ever complaining or arguing.  They're human--I'm human--and unfortunately, sin abounds too often in our household.  But even in the midst of that, even when they act selfishly towards their brothers, even when they're slow to obey, even when they have an attitude about doing a chore they dislike...even then, their hearts are still soft.

I wish I could adequately capture the times when I see this softness demonstrated so beautifully.  I try to write down their words; but it's more than words that expresses what I'm trying to communicate--it's their tone of voice, their facial expression, the tilt of their shoulders, the excitement barely contained in their little bodies.  I feel my attempts fall pitifully short, but what else do I have to help me remember these times?

Here are some recent examples of their sweet, sweet hearts:

David, who is social to the nth degree, was over at a friend's house when a pretty major argument broke out between two sons in that family.  Their mother apologized to me later and expressed her regret that my boys had had to see that, but I certainly wasn't casting blame because we have our fair share of rivalry around here for sure!  When I was talking about it later with David, he said in a quivering voice, "Maybe for the first time ever, I just wanted to come home."  This is the boy who wistfully exclaims whenever we're leaving a place to come home, "I wish I could live here!"  He has said that about numerous friends' homes, as well as the park, a play area in the Charlottesville mall, the cousins' house, the playground at the homeschool co-op we used to be a part of, etc.  He LOVES being with people, so for him to be so disturbed by the fight he witnessed showed me the soft side of his heart.

Another example involving David:  a while back, he had a dream about heaven, and this is what he told me about the dream.  In it, God said he could come back to earth for three days, but David wanted four so he could go to Disney World on one day, Disneyland on another day, and Aunt Lori's for two days.  Then he said he wanted one more so he could spend it with me!  In the dream, God wasn't wearing the blue "sash" that Jesus is often pictured with, just a white robe; and his voice was booming.  David got teary-eyed because he wants us to all go to heaven together, and I was thinking, "Oh, how sweet," then he said that the way that he got killed was by a Jedi!  Not so sweet after all.  :)

Heaven is very real to David.  In fact, after we almost got into a head-on collision on Switchboard Road back in November, he said, "I almost wish I would have died so that I could have gone to heaven and seen God already."  It reminded me of this conversation we had back in November of 2009.

Today David told me that, when he grows up, he wants to live in the little gray house my parents just moved out of.  That would be wonderful for him to live there, but I couldn't help but think of another little child who once told her parents she would never leave but would build a house on the top of their hill and stay with them always.  That girl, amazingly enough, grew up and decided that she could indeed leave them, drawn by her heart to such far-away places as California and Israel!  :)  When David strikes out on his own, I won't hold him to the desire he expressed today.  :)

Another way my boys demonstrate their sweet hearts is by public displays of affection...and when it involves my sons and me, I'm a big fan of PDA!  :)  At concerts, they want to sit close, even sitting on my lap.  During one of our potlucks, Josiah paused as he walked by me during the Bible study portion and kissed my cheek.  When we're going into his violin lessons, he sometimes reaches for my hand as we cross the street.  As long as they want to express their love to me in that way, I'll gladly receive it!

Josiah sometimes asks questions about the future--his future--and I can tell he's trying to plan out how he's going to live his life.  For example, in the middle of a conversation, he might blurt out, "How long can people be engaged?"  And he'll have this certain look in his eyes and a tiny smile at the corner of his lips, and I'll know that he's asking because he's thinking about her ("her" being a wonderful girl that has captured Josiah's eight-year-old heart but who shall remain nameless on this blog).  :)

One day, Josiah and David were talking about their weddings, and the conversation turned to maybe having their brothers be best men/groomsmen in their weddings.  They were concerned because they didn't know what girls to choose for bridesmaids! I reassured them that their bride could choose all the girls.  :)  Josiah was relieved because the girl he wants to marry has sisters that she could ask to be in the wedding!

On another day, Josiah and David got into some tiff; of course, I don't remember what it was about because such tiffs are rarely about anything truly important!  But for some reason, when it was time to apologize and forgive and hug and move on, Josiah was unexpectedly stubborn and would not humble out to open his arms and hug David.  I was so surprised and saddened by this hardness of heart that I literally started crying.  I know that women can use tears in a manipulative manner, and I do not want to do that with my sons any more than with my husband!  So I wasn't trying to put on a show to make Josiah sorry for what he had done; I was just genuinely shocked by his behavior, and my tears fell.  That unlocked the door to his heart, and his whole demeanor changed as his stubbornness melted away and he dissolved into my arms--and soon into his brother's arms for a conciliatory hug.  Needless to say, I was relieved that the hardness was so quickly replaced by softness again!

Last example:  our family has been dealing with some sickness recently, and we're such a sharing bunch that we just seem to pass it around to everyone in our household!  Fortunately, it's not a throwing-up sickness, for which I'm tremendously grateful; but the fevers, aches, coughing, and runny noses we've had aren't a barrel of laughs either.  This morning, David was feeling poorly, so before he even ate breakfast, he wanted me to snuggle with him.  I gladly would; but at the time, I had to give Shav his breakfast and do a few other things that I can't think of at the moment.  It gladdened my heart to hear Josiah say to David, "I'll snuggle with you!"  They did, and then Tobin joined them...

...and then they clamored for me to put Shav with them.  I obliged.  :)

In a day that held its customary share of tumultuous  moments, this was an oasis of peace; and just like Mary, I "treasured up all these things and pondered them in [my] heart."

These boys are so precious to me; and tonight, what I'm most grateful for is their softness.  Sure, I hope they'll grow up to be mighty men, ready to go out and conquer the world; but I also hope that I--and much more importantly, God--will always have their hearts.  

They'll always be my sweethearts, but beyond that, I hope they'll always keep their sweet hearts.  But for today, all I can do is reject worry and instead take care to notice and appreciate that I still have their hearts.  What a gift!  What a responsibility.

Eleven Tidbits

If I could sum up today in one word, it would be LAZY.  With our guests gone and the first big part of my parents' move over, I felt all entertained-out and could hardly summon up the motivation to do anything.  So I did very little - almost nothing, really.  I didn't even cook dinner, because it was Jeff's annual end-of-the-year barbershop dinner out, at Wood Grill Buffet (at which the boys behaved beautifully and I had a lovely time chatting with Jenny).  I wouldn't want every day to be a lazy day (and no one else in my family would want me to have lazy days all the time either!); but for today, it was SO nice to relax and not worry about accomplishing much.

I did, however, start a project that I'd been wanting to do for a while but had pushed aside until a rainy day, so to speak.  (It did, as a matter of fact, rain a little bit here today, so I happened to choose an appropriate day for this rainy day project.)  :)  I have a basket-like file box, with hanging file folders in it.  Although some parts of it were in fairly good order, others were not; and it needed a good going-over to get the whole thing organized.  It was one of those things that I thought "this is going to take a LONG time" and "I'd better do this when I have some alone time so I won't be distracted by the boys."  But as it turns out, I was able to nearly finish the project today; and much of my time spent working on it was also spent in the company of one or more boys.  Even Shav cooperated wonderfully, and played peacefully by himself in the living room, occasionally scooting over to me to see what was going on.  I would hand him papers to be discarded, and sometimes he would crumple them and enjoy the noise, and other times, he would scoot over to the little trashcan and put the papers in it.  So helpful.  :)

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Speaking of Shav putting things in the trashcan...

We use that little trashcan, during cold weather, to collect paper and burnable trash for kindling for the woodstove.  Shav enjoys making random deposits in it; and when I pull out the trash to burn, I've learned to always check through it to see what he might have put in it.  These are some of the items I've found so far this fall and winter:
~ a spoon
~ Christmas ornaments
~ Scoop, the yellow tractor from Bob the Builder
~ a wooden spatula
~ bullet shells (the big boys like to play with old bullet shells, setting them up on end like toy soldiers)
~ a stencil
~ a large sieve
At least the sieve was easy to spot when I lifted the lid of the trashcan.  :)

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As I went through my file folders today, I found the folders I have for Medical Records for each of us.  One thing stood out to me about them:  our folders for the boys are so thin.  I discovered a new cause for gratitude...thank You, God, that my boys have been so healthy, and consequently, their folders are so thin!

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We received news a few days ago that dear Helen Rae, the mother of long-time family friend Mary Faith, passed away.  She was quite old and had been losing the battle with dementia for some years, so it was one of those deaths that is, in many ways, a relief.  But still, grief lingers.

It was poignant tonight to discover in my Wedding folder, a letter Helen Rae, always gracious, had sent to my parents shortly after my wedding.  It said in part:

What beautiful memories you have to treasure in your heart of your lovely Davene, from the time she was conceived until now.  And of course, it doesn't stop here!  Your joys are multiplied.  I'm praying that Jeff will be as sensitive to your needs and Davene's, as Jerry has been to ours.  That, indeed, is expecting a lot!  

I have never seen lovelier invitations.  I almost feel that I have been a part of it  all.  Mary Faith filled me in on all the details which you had planned so carefully.  How dear that your mother was able to attend.

It's apparent that her prayers for Jeff to be sensitive to my needs and my parents' have been abundantly answered!

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Once upon a time, I wrote a post of confessions.  It's time to add another one.

I know I'm supposed to brown meat before I cook it in the crockpot.  Roasts, Swiss steak, pork chops, whatever - they're all supposed to be browned on the stove first because it makes the flavor richer (or something).  But I don't do it.  Nope, I use the crockpot so I can be a lazy cook; and the thought of browning the meat first (and getting a frying pan all dirty and greasy, making an extra dish for me to wash) defeats the purpose in my opinion.  Maybe the flavor suffers a tiny bit; but really, if you did a blind taste test, do you think you'd be able to figure out which roast was browned and which wasn't?  I think making a great-tasting roast has more to do with the seasonings you put on it.  That's just my {humble, of course} opinion.  :)

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How do people find your blog?

Every once in a while, various bloggers that I keep up with will mention what searches brought people to them; and it's always interesting and frequently hilarious to read.  Now that Blogger has added a handy-dandy stats button, I occasionally look at mine and am able to see how people found me.  Most are very straightforward, but a few make me grin and/or shake my head in puzzlement.  Searches like these actual ones I've seen recently...

~ around my bubble
~ mother in law visits are too long (for the record, I don't think they are, but I can see why a search for that would lead to my blog)
~ maternity shop tel aviv
~ i'll go to bed now
~ avniel pronunciation
~ a thank you note from god to a grieving fisherman family
~ geriatric story nursing home story oh holy night
~ tomcat holy ghost (really?  what in the world?  I actually had to look this one up to discover what it led to...sure enough, it landed on this post...oh, yeah, I forgot about that)

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This is the way Jeff and I show love to each other these days:  whoever goes up to bed first turns on the other's electric blanket.  ;-)  It's so comforting to crawl into a nice warm bed, rather than the sheets which always used to feel frigid on winter nights.

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Why does it seem like I'm always the one to discover that there's not much toilet paper left on the roll?  Occasionally when I spot a roll that looks close to the end, I'll think, "Oh, I'll pull out a fresh roll later."  But I've learned that it's best to do it right then, because if not, inevitably I will be the one left in an uncomfortable predicament.  Why does that happen to me?   Maybe the system of justice in the universe demands that my procrastination will have negative consequences.  Or maybe it's just because I'm the only female in this household, so maybe I use the most toilet paper.  ;-)

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Do not depend on the hope of results... You may have to face the fact that your work will be apparently worthless and even achieve no result at all, if not perhaps results opposite to what you expect.  As you get used to this idea, you start more and more to concentrate not on the results, but on the value, the rightness, the truth of the work itself.

~ Thomas Merton

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Tomorrow, if I happen to have more energy than today, I think we'll start taking down our Christmas decorations.  The boys want us to leave our tree up indefinitely, but that idea has been vetoed.  I love their enthusiasm though.  :)  Doesn't it seem like it was the beginning of December just the other day and we were putting our decorations up?  And now we're taking them down already!  How does that happen?!  :)

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The chain of cause and effect which makes up human life, is bisected at every point by a vertical line relating us and all we do to God.

~ Baron Von Hugel,

quoted in an Elisabeth Elliott devotional

Grandma Loved a Pirate

And the pirate, he loved her.

Everyone thought Grandma was such a good girl.

But now we know the truth.  ;-)

Those dashing pirates are hard to resist.

Even for good girls.  ;-)

Oh, the Questions They Ask

Before I write another word, let me first say a big THANK YOU to those of you who commented on the previous post, shared your experiences with me, and assured me that you understood my pain and were praying for Shav's sleep issues to resolve.  That means the world to me.  Thank you from the bottom of my heart, dear blog readers friends!

To answer the questions left in the comments...

~ Misty, what eventually settles him back to sleep?  Well, time, I guess.  But it's been up to an hour and a half of crying during a spell.  I keep checking on him every so often, just to see if he's aware enough of me to be calmed by my presence and is able to "snap out of it."  But yeah, two (or was it three?) nights ago, the whole episode was about an hour and a half and was absolutely draining for me.

~ Valerie, I don't think there's a problem with Shav's ears because he hasn't been sick recently, he doesn't pull on them, and he's not particularly fussy at any other times.  Even when I lay him flat when I'm changing his diaper or putting him to bed for a nap or at the beginning of the night, he doesn't cry then.  As far as what he is like after a screaming episode, he basically seems fine!  After the naptime crying session, he was a little tired (can't imagine why, after all that screaming!) and sat on my lap quietly for a little while before getting down to play.  But when it happens at night, he definitely seems normal by morning and doesn't seem mad at me then.  :)

~ Stacey, I'll try to pay more attention to his eyes next time.  I have a feeling that even when they're open, he's not really aware of who I am; but it's hard for me to imagine because, hello, I'm your mom, Shav...remember me?  :)  But I think you're absolutely right about a child being able to walk, talk, cry, or whatever, and not realize what's going on.  Jeff told me that he sleepwalked as a child, so maybe there's some connection to Shav's experiences.  I'm not sure about foods or events that might be triggering it for Shav, but he might be a little extra tired.  I'll be more intentional this week about what's going on with him during daytime hours so that hopefully that can be a clue if these episodes continue.  About the anointing with oil--absolutely!  That is totally biblical.  We've prayed about it, that's for sure.  :)  But we haven't done the anointing; thanks for suggesting that.  And one more thing for you:  I'm SO sorry that you have had similar experiences.  I know what it's like to awake from a bad dream and still feel caught in the emotions of that, so I can only imagine how terrifying it is to deal with your experiences.

~ Ceci, that's really interesting about putting Sydney with Meredith.  I hadn't heard of that before.  The funny thing to me is that, even though Shav's crying seems so loud to me, the other boys are somehow able to sleep right through it!!  Their bedrooms are across the hall; but, believe me, Shav's cries are loud enough to reach that far--and then some.  :)  I'll keep your suggestion in mind, if these spells continue.  Thanks!

~ Michelle, I really appreciate you sharing your experiences.  The reminder that this is a real occurrence with a scientific cause and explanation, and probably not just a temper tantrum issue, is VERY helpful.  And yes, it is so bewildering to see Shav looking like he's awake but having him respond so strangely to me.

Last night was a good night; he slept straight through with no problems at all.  And so far tonight, I haven't heard a peep from him.  However, he usually starts with one of these crying fits around 12:30 or 1:00 AM, so I'm still holding my breath to see if this is a good night or a bad one.  Even in the depths of the agony of listening to him cry, I keep reminding myself that "this too shall pass"; and I also remember that God comforts us so that we can comfort others, and maybe someday down the road, I'll be able to share about my current trials with another sad, frustrated mom.

* I spoke too soon.  Shav awoke crying around 11:45.  Jeff got him, and Shav woke up enough to realize that I was sitting here in my rocking chair.  He reached out for me and calmed down when I held him.  We had a little cozy snuggling time; then when I was starting to carry him to bed, he reached out for Jeff and had a little cuddle time with him.  Now he's back in bed and occasionally whimpering, but clearly that wasn't a typical episode for him.  Who knows how the rest of the night will go?

Moving right along...

The big boys have been amusing me recently with the questions they ask.  For example, as we rode in the Big White Van over Afton Mountain to a church service this morning, David asked, "Are there more people or trees in the world?"  Hmmm...I'm not sure...maybe trees?  Then he asked, "Are there a googol trees in the world?"  Uh...probably not.  "Is there a googol of anything in the world?"  Well...maybe grains of sand?

During the church service, Josiah, who read nine chapters of Revelation during the sermon, leaned over to whisper in my ear, "So, are there only going to be 144,000 people saved?"  Well, sweetheart, let's talk about it later.  The standard I-have-no-idea-what-to-say-right-now answer of parents everywhere!  :)

On the way home, Josiah asked, "Are there more white people or black people in the world?"  Probably more Chinese, was my reply.  :)

Goodness!  These boys!  They're good at reminding me how little I know.

Earlier this week, David asked me one that I could answer definitively.  "Do real policemen brush their teeth?" he queried.  "Yes!" I said with certainty.  Then he asked, "How many times do they brush their teeth?"  

All I could think to say was, "The next time you see a real policemen in Daddy's shop {because Jeff cuts the hair of a lot of policemen in our town}, you can ask him!"  :)

~ my little architects, hard at work  :)

Spectacular

The concerts were spectacular.  But, of course!  Was there ever any doubt??  ;-)

~ Josiah is on the front row, second from the right

When I met up with Josiah after last night's concert, he was bubbling over with excitement.  He loved performing, could hardly wait for his next chance to be on stage, and exclaimed, "I could sing five more concerts!!"  I think the performance bug bit him hard last night.  :)

~ it's kind of hard to spot him; but if you find the microphone that looks like it's looming above the choristers' heads, then follow that down to where it intersects with a crossbar, you'll find Josiah to the right of that, in the front row again

Sons of the Day was the featured group that performed with SVCC, and they did a phenomenal job, too.  In fact, both Jeff and I thought that they showed tremendous improvement since the last time we saw them.  It was extra-special to have them perform in this concert because our friend Chris is in that group.  :)

~ Josiah is standing beneath Julia White's (she's the director) outstretched left hand...David is one of the children standing on the steps to ring bells during Jingle Bells; he's wearing a dark green sweater, and is about the 5th child from the left...although David sings with abandon when he's here at home with just the family, he tends to get shy (or something) when he's with a group...before the concert, I had reminded him to actually sing on Jingle Bells and not just ring the bell...afterwards, he said to me, "I forgot to sing"...that's OK, sweetie; there's always next year  :)...Caleb, the son of Julie who commented on the previous post, is the tall guy in the back row on the far left of this picture

Some other things I want to remember:

~ Jeff and I both ushered last evening, and my parents stayed home and babysat our three younger sons...then today, Jeff stayed home with Tobin and Shav; and the rest of us went to the concert...I ushered again, and David sat with my parents who reported after it was over that he did a super job of sitting still (in Grandma's lap for most of the time) and listening...Jeff and I really enjoyed ushering, and hopefully we'll get to do it again

~ shortly before the concert started last evening, I happened to catch a glimpse outside as someone came in the door of the auditorium; and I realized with wonder that it was snowing!...our first flakes of the year...it was the crowning touch on a perfect evening, as if God said, "Here, let me dump even more joy into your heart this night"

~ the first thing my dad said to me after the concert today was how he got all choked up when Josiah came onto the stage, so much so that he couldn't even sing!  (the audience was singing a Christmas carol with the choirs at that point)...and then later in the concert, when Josiah's choir again came on stage, Dad got choked up again!...as we rode home in the Big White Van, Mom told me how she had gotten teary-eyed, too; but I fully expected that...after all, I got my leaky tear ducts from her  :)...but Dad!...I think he's turning into a big softie in his old(er) age  ;-)

~ one of the songs that Sons of the Day sang was What Child Is This...I love that song; it's so beautiful...but both last night and today, I was jerked out of my musings of "oh, this is such a nice, sweet song" by the lyrics of the second verse...I don't know how you're used to singing it, but I grew up singing "this, this is Christ the king, etc." as a refrain for all of the verses...as it turns out, each verse actually has its own set of words until the last phrase which they all share, "the Babe, the Son of Mary"...in the second verse, at the pinnacle of the song, these words come crashing in:  

Nails, spear, shall pierce Him through,

The cross be borne, for me, for you.

Woah...that's intense...smack dab in the middle of a lullaby about the greatest child ever born lies a prophecy about his violent death...it got me thinking about what lies ahead for each of my children--and how grateful I am that I don't know the future and that my children's lullabies don't include a description of their death!...and then I got to thinking about Julian Assange...really, I did, all because of lyrics from a Christmas carol...in case you live under a rock news-wise (like I usually do) and don't know who that is, he's the founder of WikiLeaks, and he's on the run, hated (and that strong word isn't even strong enough) by a myriad of individuals and governments around the world--all because he exposed the dirty, corrupt world of politics...I'm no prophet, but it doesn't take a prophet to sense that the end is coming for him, and that it might be violent...but you know, he was once somebody's baby...somebody once fed him and bathed him and changed his clothes and diapers and (hopefully) played with and sang to and cooed over him...and then Julian grew up and had a son...did Julian bounce his son on his knee?...did he toss him playfully up in the air and delight in his laughter?...I don't know where I'm going with this...I guess I'm just recording my thoughts spurred on by the concert today, even though they're jumbled and senseless!...what if Julian's lullaby had included a prophecy about what would happen to him in the last month of 2010?

~ towards the end of the concert, the Concert Choir sang Noel by Todd Smith (of the group Selah)...I love that song!...but in all my times of listening to it here at home on my Selah CD, I never realized that the translation is this:

Noel, Noel, Jesus has come to live with us.

If you want to know the Child, you have to come kneel.

I like that.  I really like that.  

And I really, really have loved this weekend!

His Timing Is Impeccable

At bedtime tonight, Josiah asked to be allowed to stay up to read a chapter of the book he's currently devouring.  I said yes, he read it, and then the request came for "just one more chapter?"  I said yes again; after all, he's reading God's Smuggler by Brother Andrew, so how could I say no to his request?  After he finished that chapter, he popped out of bed again; and I looked up from my seat at the desk in the living room to see his quickly-growing frame loping down the steps.  His question this time:  could I come up and cuddle with him?

Now normally that request would receive a quick ix-nay on the uddle-cay.  After all, I have things to do!  And it's not Sunday night, so we can't cuddle.  Because Sunday is our cuddle night.  And this is Wednesday.  So no cuddling.  But I love you, and goodnight.

Tonight, however, I had just finished reading this article by Rick Boyer.  Josiah had no idea about that, but he could not possibly have timed his request better.  With Rick's last sentence, "Turn off the vacuum cleaner for a minute and go hug your kids," still ringing in my ears, how could I say no to Josiah?  We walked up to his room with our arms around each other, discovered that David was still awake, then all crawled into David's bed for some Quality Snuggle Time.  And you know what?  It was the best cuddle time!  Josiah asked me what I want for Christmas, David told me (in response to my question to him, "What do I need to change to be a better mommy?") that I hurt his feelings a few days ago by speaking harshly, they both agreed that we need to have more children (with Josiah suggesting that we have two more, and David stating that we needed ten more, then modifying his answer to say we need 100 more!), we laughed at the thought of so many children and talked about how we could get more bunkbeds and let eight boys sleep in their room...but where would we put everybody's clothes?  We decided that each person could only have two pairs of pants, two pairs of underwear, two pairs of pajamas, etc.  :)  I brought up George Mueller and how he helped care for so many children through his orphanages, and told David that maybe when he grows up, he'll start an orphanage, too.  David thought that might be too much responsibility (his exact word, although he mispronounced it) for him; but Josiah, ever the leader and organizer, thought that he might like that job.  We listened to John Elliott's reading of Ezekiel 1 and marveled at the majesty and power of Ezekiel's vision of the Lord.  I loved my time with them.

I would have missed it, if it hadn't been for Rick Boyer's article (and the HEAV weekly newsletter which brought it to my attention).  If you have two minutes to spare, go read that article.  It will make you smile, and it might even put a lump in your throat.  What's more, it will help you make the {right} decision to turn off the vacuum cleaner and go hug your kids!

It is not my intention to drag out my response to Mary's question about my relationship with my mother-in-law, and I feel badly that I haven't finished that yet.  I was fully intending to do so tonight, but the impromptu snuggle session consumed my time--and rightly so.  Maybe tomorrow?  But you know, since my writing motto seems to be "To Make a Short Story Long," it's hard to tell how much time it will take me to finish the tale!  ;-)

Taking Advantage of Free Labor

I've been spoiled recently.  Having Jeff's mom here means having an extra pair of extremely helpful hands, ready and willing to do whatever task is at hand.  

One task that I knew I wanted to do this fall was make applesauce.  We had run out of all our home-canned applesauce, and a cellar without homemade applesauce is a sad cellar indeed.  :)  Rather than spending time in September or early October to tackle that project, I decided to wait until Jeff's mom was here; I wouldn't want her to miss out on the fun after all.  :)  (Last year, by the way, when she stayed with us for three weeks shortly after Shav's birth, our canning project was peaches.  We always make sure she gets a good dose of canning while she's in this part of the country!)

We ended up devoting the better part of the afternoon on two days to our applesauce project:  school in the morning, applesauce in the afternoon. 

We made applesauce out of about 3 bushels of apples (and despite the picture above, we did not get the apples from Romney Orchards; that's just an old wooden crate my parents have that we used to transport the apples!), and we ended up with 52 quarts:  47 canned, and 5 frozen.

We used Yellow Delicious apples, and the applesauce was so sweet that we didn't need to add any extra sugar.

I was beyond grateful to have the help of both my mother and my mother-in-law.  We made a very good team as we worked together--my mom specializing in cutting the apples to get them ready to cook and in washing the dishes as we finished up, Jeff's mom specializing in running the apples through the mill, and me specializing in the canning process--although, of course, we all helped out in a variety of ways.  Three are better than one, for they can make a whole lot of applesauce a whole lot more quickly than one woman by herself!!  That's my loose translation of Ecclesiastes 4:9 anyway.  :)

I had heard about these food mills from several friends (real-life and blogging) but did not have one.  When Jeff's mom found out that we were going to make applesauce and that a mill was available to make the process easier and quicker, she bought one for me--a most useful and appreciated gift!  We were thrilled by how much it sped up the process and by how little waste there was.  The chickens liked pecking at the skins and seeds that came out of the mill, so really, it wasn't wasteful at all!

Both Josiah and David took a turn at the handle, but David was the one who liked it the most and stuck with it.  It was a genuine help to have him doing this job.

The end result: pleasing to look at, delicious to taste, and... 

 ...a sweet reminder during winter's cold days of the time spent in my warm, cozy kitchen with two women I love.

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Encounters #6 & 7
Making friends is an interesting task:  sometimes quick, sometimes slow, sometimes easy, sometimes difficult, sometimes one-sided, sometimes mutual.

When I was a child, it seemed easier to make friends than it does as an adult.  Back in those days, if a girl was nice and if we had fun playing together, she was my friend--easy as pie!  Now, with a busy life and little time for "play," friendship usually seems much slower to develop.

Two encounters come to mind, as I think about making friends.  The first occurred when I arrived at college and discovered that one of my roommates (I had two at the beginning of that year) was a sweet girl with long, dark, curly hair and a big, quick-to-laugh heart.  Her name was Juli Yoder, and we hit it off instantly.  What a precious gift to have her friendship to help ease me into the huge transition of leaving home for college!  She left college after a semester because of her romance with Bryan, a young man back at her home who was pursuing and wooing her.  They ended up getting married during Christmas break of my sophomore year, and I was honored to be one of her bridesmaids (and wear a gorgeous navy blue velvet dress, by the way).  :)  It was her wedding that caused me to fly to Israel by myself (as I mentioned in this post).

Looking back, however, I believe that that was the last instantaneous friendship I've had.  Don't get me wrong:  I've been blessed by an abundance of friendships in the years since then, but each of them has taken more time to develop.  Like with Jayne, Carolyn, Jacqueline, and Maggie...

Those four women were part of a church in San Diego that we joined back in 1998, during the first year of our marriage; and they were the first to reach out to me and, as such, were hugely instrumental in helping me grow spiritually in ways that I could hardly have imagined I would grow.  God used them to sharpen me like iron, and I will forever be grateful for their input (as well as the barrels of fun we had and the mountains of memories we made along the way).

But here's the thing about those four women (and the many other wonderful friends we made in San Diego):  the friendship wasn't immediate.  I remember my initial encounters with them; I felt guarded and reluctant to open my life and heart to them.  They were so different from me!  Could they ever really be my best friends?

They could, and they were.  Imagine:  a Jewess, a Hispanic, an African-American, and a Texan, all creating such a circle of love and security and spiritual friendship around me.  It was amazing, and my surprise at our developing friendship led to sheer delight at how God made our paths to cross.

And so, from these two encounters, I learned that friendship, that dear, sweet gift that brings such joy to life, sometimes comes quickly and sometimes comes slowly.  But either way, it brings so much rich beauty to our days.  Nowadays, if I meet someone and hit it off right away, I give thanks for that; and if it takes a little longer to click with someone, I don't fret, but give thanks anyway!

Series Are for...

...breaking?

Apparently so, because not only have I gotten dreadfully behind in my Encounters {30 Days Thankful} posts, but yesterday I also broke my Sunday habit of posting a verse for my Truth-Light-Hammer-Fire series.  How could I?  ;-)

Once in a while, I run across a button on somebody's blog that declares "Blogging Without Obligation," and I think to myself that more bloggers should be that way:  blogging only when (and what) they want to, more focused on the pleasure of keeping a journal for themselves than building the biggest blog audience around, not feeling like they have to apologize when they miss a day (or week or month) of blogging, etc.  So tonight, even though part of me would like to be curled up in bed, snuggling cozily under my favorite invention since flush toilets, another part of me is telling myself to stay here in my rocking chair, with my bare feet cold on the chilly floor and my laptop perched on my knees...NOT because of any sense of obligation to blog on a (nearly) daily basis or to continue a series that I started days (or months) ago, but because of the pleasure of capturing moments and turning their fleeting nature into 26 black and white symbols that preserve the thoughts, the actions, the sounds and smells and tastes, the emotions, the essence of these precious moments of these busy, busy days that fly by in a flash.

A year from now, I'll maybe be sitting in this same rocking chair with my feet bare on the cold floor while the rest of the household sleeps; and I'll be so glad that I took the time tonight to write something.  And maybe, just maybe, these boys...

...and their little brothers, will someday read these words; and they will be glad that I sat up late to write them.

That picture, by the way, was taken by Jeff during our trip last Friday to Mt. Vernon.  He took almost all of the pictures that were taken that day, and I hope to post more of them at a later date.  I'm grateful that even when I was in a photographic slump, he wasn't.  :)

Before I go on to talk about Encounter #4, I'll give a quick recap of the last few days.
Friday:  Mt. Vernon, of course
Saturday: recovering from Friday, and preparing for a Bible study in our home that evening
Sunday: an Old Order Mennonite church service with our neighbors (something that I definitely want to write about sometime!), lunch for 15 around our table, Josiah's violin recital in the afternoon, and some relaxing time with the faithful friends who watched our little guys during the recital
Today: homeschool as normal, with the added joy of putting our Christmas candles in the windows to surprise Josiah when he got home from SVCC practice (they are much more than Christmas candles to me; I put them out early and keep them up late, and would leave them in our windows year-round except for the danger of them falling and breaking when I have the windows open during warmer weather), and a rousing pillow fight with my three oldest sons after supper...I love my boys!  :)

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Encounter #4
Fourteen was a big year for me.   I went on my first airplane ride, left the country for the first time, and went on my first mission trip.  I switched schools.  Encounter #3 happened that year, at that new-to-me school.  But even before all that other stuff happened, another Encounter occurred which helped to shape me into who I am now.

My grandfather died.

My dad's dad, he was the first of my grandparents to die, the closest living relative that I had lost to death.  He was elderly and had lived a long, productive life of service to God and humanity.  He was the original Dr. Huffman in this area (and an inspiration to his two sons who both became Dr. Huffman as well).  He had suffered from heart trouble, and he had a prosthetic leg (it's kind of funny as a kid to see your granddad take off part of his leg).  :)

He died the day after I turned fourteen.

His tradition had been to pull our ears on our birthday, although why that tradition started, I have no idea.  When he died, I couldn't help but think, "But he didn't get to pull my ears for this birthday!" (because he had been very ill in the hospital).

Although there is so much more that I could say about his life, what really stood out to me is how he approached death.  When he realized that he was nearing the end of his life and would only be able to survive if kept alive through artificial means, he wrote on a piece of paper in shaky but clear letters (because he couldn't speak due to the ventilator? that was breathing for him), "Let me die."  It wasn't because he had a death wish; it was, simply, because he was ready.  Ready to enter eternity.  Ready to meet Jesus.  Ready to see face-to-face the Lord he had served all his life.  Death was a doorway; and at that point for him, it was a welcome doorway.

It surprises and grieves me when I see how desperately some Christians cling to life, and how fearfully they approach death, and how ungracefully they slip towards it, digging in their heels and fingernails and anything else they can use to slow down their progression..  Don't get me wrong:  I love life, too!  And I'd be so grateful to have 50 or 60 more years of it here on earth.  But at the same time, I realize (and I pray that I continue to realize it as the end of my earthly life approaches) that death is just a door.  When you know Who is standing on the other side of that door, there is nothing to fear.

Thank you, Granddad, for teaching me that.

TTT - The Holy Ghost, a Tomcat, and a Misplaced Prepositional Phrase

~ David at the Frontier Culture Museum last week

We have a friend, Kevin the Painter, who likes to tease a lot; and as a result, he himself gets teased in return.  I think if Gary Chapman ever revises his love languages book, he'll have to add Teasing as #7 (right behind Food, which is #6...Jeff knows that if he really wants to show me his love, he can bring me a carton of blackberries and let me eat them ALL BY MYSELF).  :)  Anyway, we've eaten with Kevin at Cracker Barrel a few times; and you know how they put all that old stuff--farming tools, signs, family pictures, etc.--on the walls?  Well, there's this old portrait of a stern-looking couple on the wall at our Cracker Barrel, right by the table that we always seem to get; and Jeff started teasing Kevin that the people in the picture were his parents.  My boys haven't let the joke die yet.  That led into this conversation:
David (age 5) to Kevin:  When my mom and dad die, do you think they'll get their picture up in Cracker Barrel?
Kevin (age 54):  Yes, and I want to be the one to take the picture.
Josiah (age 8):  You won't be alive any more.
David:  You'll be with the Holy Ghost!
Only with Kevin could I let my boys have this kind of conversation!

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One evening around the supper table, David blurted out this question about his 2 year-old brother, "What do you think Tobin will be when he grows up?"    Jeff and I and my parents were all wondering how to answer that, "Uh, maybe he'll be a fireman...or a doctor...or a construction worker...or a...?"  But then David added, "A tomcat?"  What???  All we could do was laugh.

Turns out he was thinking about his own experience of playing soccer this season for the Cheetahs; and he was assuming that when Tobin gets a little older, he'll want to play soccer, too.  David was asking which team we thought Tobin would be assigned to.  It had absolutely nothing to do with occupation, but the way he phrased the question made all of us adults think in one direction...while his own thoughts were traveling in a different one!

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Jeff's mom flew in from California recently for a four-week stay with us; and the boys' excitement, in the days leading up to her arrival, just grew and grew.  When we pulled into the parking lot at the airport, Josiah said, "My heart feels like it's going to burst!"  David one-upped his brother by exclaiming, "My heart feels like it's going to come out of my tongue!"

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David LOVES affection.  Spoken words of love, physical touches of love--both of these make him thrive; and you can almost see him soaking it in like water into a sponge and positively glowing as a result.  Every once in a while, he and I play the "I Love You More" game, where one of us says, "I love you so much," and the other says, "I love you more," and the first one says, "No, I love you more," and back and forth--a silly, but endearing, argument.  One day recently as we went around and around, I thought, "I'll clinch this argument once and for all."  I told him triumphantly, "I loved you before you were born!"  Undaunted, he retorted gleefully, "I loved you before you were born!!"  Hmmm...and how exactly is that possible, wise guy?  :)

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The next two are not exactly Tiny Talk Tuesday conversations--more like Not-So-Tiny Talk Tuesday.  But they are spoken things from my household that made me laugh, so I'll break all the rules (sorry, Mary!) and include them here.  :)

For those who don't regularly read my blog and don't know this already, my parents live just down the hill from us and eat supper with us nearly every evening.  Here's a fact that very few of you know:  my parents consume huge quantities of vitamins (and have for years...that's literally how I came about!...but that's another story), so every evening at supper, they pull out a pill bottle for each of them that holds their allotted vitamins--and a few "regular" pills--for that meal.  One evening, a pill was randomly discovered on the table at the end of the meal, and it wasn't immediately clear whose it was.  I couldn't tell if it was "real" medicine or a vitamin, but apparently Dad quickly ascertained that it was a vitamin and he said to Mom, "It might be mine, but you can have it."  Generous of him, wasn't it?  I thought to myself, "That's such an old people thing to do!"  I don't consider my parents old!!  But watching them made me think ahead to the days when Jeff and I, Lord willing, will be an old couple together:  missing teeth perhaps, maybe a little hard of hearing, tottering around with canes.  I want to have the kind of easy companionship that can spot a roll-away pill and say, "It might be mine, but you can have it!"

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This one points out my own shortcomings.  First, let me say that I LOVE grammar, and I entered college as an English major (and exited with a music degree, but that's beside the point).  Jeff takes special pleasure in catching me making grammatical mistakes; and I sure made a doozy the other night.  He was wrestling with the boys on the couch; and I, knowing that intense wrestling/tickling sessions sometimes lead to a loss of bladder control in young bodies, asked, "Does anyone need to go to the bathroom on the couch?"  Oh, the danger of misplaced prepositional phrases!  Let me try that again:  Does anyone on the couch need to go to the bathroom?  Ah, yes.  Much better.  And please don't take my earlier question literally!  ;-)

Check out Mary at Not Before 7 for more Tiny Talk Tuesday.

Delighted

These days, nothing delights Shav more than standing.  The only thing he's good at using to pull up by himself is the bathtub; whether in or out of it, he grabs hold of the edge and quickly and easily stands up.  But when he's not close to the bathtub, he scoots around until he finds some kind soul, then he holds up his little hands and looks pitiful :) until that kind soul reaches down, grabs him by the hands, and helps him stand up.  After that, it's a breeze; he stands and slowly-but-surely cruises, holding onto chairs, the couch, people, whatever he can find, until his legs get so tired; and then a sudden plop is heard and he's down on the floor again, ready to scoot.  This afternoon, Shav, after I helped him to his feet, stood by the school desk as David did his math lesson.  We watched in amusement as Shav jabbered nonsense to David and pointed excitedly to the page as if to say, "Do this problem, David!  This is the one!"  David loved having his littlest brother be his audience, Shav loved being upright and able to see over the edge of the desk, and I, delighted, loved seeing DELIGHT written all over Shav's face.

Farewell to the Cheetahs

Today was David's last soccer game ("not forever," he keeps reminding us as he proudly wears the medal of participation that he received today, "just for this season").  Here are some things I'll remember from the past eight Saturday mornings...

...how I was proud of David for (almost always) staying focused on the game.  Focus can be a challenge for him, but I thought he did really, really well in this area.

 ...how David was a solid, middle-of-the-road player for his team who scored some goals - not as skillful as Grayson (the coach's son and stand-out player on the team), but better than Jack (the assistant coach's son who seemed a little too young to even care about being out there on the field).  The age range for this league is 4 to 6 years old, and that's quite a range!  The developmental changes that occur during those years are huge.

...how Josiah wished he could be out on the field playing, too...and how he raced up and down the sideline, keeping even with the ball, and occasionally having the opportunity to kick it back in bounds ("in bounds" being a very loose term in this league!).  Also, how he kept score in his head (even though this is a non-competitive league that doesn't keep score or rank teams or anything like that)...and how he let his true competitive feelings show when he referred, in private conversation with me, to the other team as "the enemy."

...how the Great Snack Debate ignited more passion than I would ever have guessed.

...how I, for the most part, felt confident handling all four boys by myself (except for the day when it was my turn to hand out snacks)...and how, several years ago when Josiah played and David was my toddler, I fretted at the difficulty of keeping up with two boys!  We humans are blessed with a marvelous ability to adapt and get used to reality as it changes; and in my case, with the doubling of my number of children, I'm so grateful for that adaptation!  

...how my parents came to several of the games and how we were all so excited to see them there.

...how Tobin had fun running around, rarely watching the game, but being happy anyway...and how Shav contentedly sat for part of the hour in his stroller, and spent the rest of the time scooting around (and occasionally needing to be chased and retrieved when he scooted too far towards the playing field).

...how, at the end of several games, Tobin couldn't make it to the minivan without severely testing the boundaries and displaying his stubborn streak...how insecure I felt as a mom when I had to literally pick him up and carry him to the van, his loud protests marking every step, and other parents watching to boot...how I tried to reassure myself with the thought that, "if they're parents, then SURELY it's happened to them, and they're watching out of sympathy and not condemnation."  Still, it's no fun to deal with public temper tantrums.

...how Laura, the mom of David's teammate Phillip, is battling cancer...and how she is handling it with such grace and poise and outward-focus, not victim-mentality...how I wrote a heartfelt card for her and gave it to her today and how we hugged and shed tears together as we talked about cancer.

It's been a good season; and although I won't mind having my Saturday mornings back, I will miss seeing my beloved David having so much fun wearing his bright yellow shirt, chasing a dirty white sphere, and being part of a team.  Thanks, Cheetahs; it's been a blast!

TTT - Slobber and an Unbiblical View of Retaliation

In just a few days, David will officially be five and a half, a wonderful age for Tiny Talk Tuesday fodder!  :)  Like these things that escaped his mouth recently and made me smile...

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David: "Why do you put slobber on me..." (at this point, I was thinking, "WHAT are you talking about?!") "...when my face is dirty?"

Me: "Because that's how mommies clean their babies. Think about cats. And lions. And...and...other animals. They lick their babies to clean them. So when your face is dirty and I don't have water or a wipe or anything else to clean it with, I use my saliva on my finger."

David: "It's called saliva?"

Me: "Yes."

David: "I thought it was slobber."

Me: "Well, saliva is the proper word for it. When I need to clean your face, would you prefer for me to use some of your own saliva on my finger to do it?"

David: "Yes!"

Me (in my thoughts): "Whew, problem solved. Whatever floats your boat, kid." :)  And for the record, it's not like I often clean his face this way!!

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During a dispute (with Tobin, I'm sure...they are currently the Sandpaper Boys, rubbing each other abrasively so many times a day)...

Me: "What did Jesus tell us to do? When someone hits us on one cheek..."

David: "Turn around and hit him on the other cheek??"

Well, not exactly. In fact, not even close.


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Check out Mary at Not Before 7 for more Tiny Talk Tuesday.

Nine Tidbits

* Having friends (that we haven't seen in over a year) come from California to stay with us for a few days is wonderful incentive to do things like...
~ clean out the refrigerator,
~ plan the menu (not just for supper, but for breakfast and lunch, too),
~ do a thorough grocery shopping,
~ clean and organize everything in the room in which they will stay,
~ put out some smoldering hotspots that have been ignored for far too long.

* Thinking of them flying, with their three young children, on a red-eye flight right now reminds me - a little too vividly - of our experiences with flying with children.  Tonight, I'm grateful to be here in my own sweet home, ready to crawl into my own cozy bed, not thousands of feet up in the air, crowded into too-small seats, wishing that the recline button made the seat go back even further, and praying earnestly that the children would sleep the whole way!  Even still, I'm glad that our friends are willing to make the sacrifice to come.  :)

* Google still won't let me load pictures to my blog, even though I bought the storage space and my account shows that I have the storage space.  Hmmm...what's going on?

* Our dogs killed a possum last night.  Our pasture is no playground for rodents and other critters, that's for sure.  All three of our dogs have hunter characteristics in their blood, and they aren't predisposed to show mercy to wanderers in their territory.

* This stood out to me from a sermon I heard on Sunday:  We dare not reject one for whom Christ died. (spoken by Sam Wenger) There are some people that are so hard to love; but when I think about it in the light of Christ's sacrifice for them, how could I possibly do less than love them?

* This post stirred up some interesting discussion; I had no idea I was touching such a nerve!  I really enjoyed and appreciated hearing a wide variety of perspectives on the topic, so thank you to those of you who threw your hat in the ring and left a comment.  I learned from you!

* As we were driving away from David's soccer game on Saturday, he was sitting in the backseat, munching on his Congo Square.  My late-night cookie-making angst was instantly worth it when I heard him exclaim, "Man, this cookie is GOOD!"  And then Tobin piped up, "Yeah, I like that cookie, too!"  (Except in Tobin Talk, it sounded more like, "Ah, I yike dat ookie, too!"  In that moment, I was SO glad I had made those cookies; I got all the reward I needed.  :)

* Tobin's favorite expression these days:  "Oh, dear!"  Jeff claims he got it from me.  I suppose he did.  Regardless, it cracks me up when he says it.  Oh, Tobin Bear, you're adorable!

* Here are two posts that stood out to me in recent days:  first, this one at Feathers in Our Nest, showing four generations of women.  The great-grandma in this picture was my kindergarten teacher, and she's kept in touch with my family through the years and watched me grow up.  The grandma in the picture has reached out to me, especially since we moved back from Israel; and her input on homeschooling, the comments she's left on my blog, and other unexpected kindnesses she's shown me have blessed my soul numerous times.  What a joy to see the new mama in the picture and her precious little girl.  The Godly legacy continues...  The second post is this one at Amy's Humble Musings.  The title alone - "I'm not sure who came up with the 'family integrated' church model, but I guarantee you, it wasn't a single mom." - was enough to intrigue me; and when I read it, I laughed and laughed as I nodded in agreement.  Yes, I know exactly how you feel.  The comments on that post just add to the merriment.  Good stuff.

TTT - That's Heaven?!

It's been ages (Josiah, my literalist, would correct me and say, "No, Mom, you haven't even been alive for ages.") since I did a TTT post.  I just haven't had my ears tuned into my boys' conversations...or my pencil ready to jot down their comments before they slip my mind.  But this past week, I did happen to notice--and write down--a few things that David said that made me smile.

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Take a little Bible knowledge and a little scientific knowledge, mix them in the brain of a five year-old, and this might come out:  David asked, "When Jesus goed (he still needs to remember to say "went") through the clouds, did He get wet?"  I wasn't sure what angle to use in my response so I employed the classic you've-got-me-stumped-but-I-don't-want-you-to-know-it response.  "Hmmm, that's a great question!" I answered.  "What do YOU think?"  This answer is second in popularity only to the profound, "You'll have to wait and ask God when you get to heaven."

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Speaking of heaven...

We just finished reading The Jesus Storybook Bible together (and I loved it, by the way!); and when we got to the last story about John's exile on the island of Patmos and his vision of heaven, I opened the book to that page and read the title, "A Dream of Heaven."  David took one look at the picture and burst out with an incredulous, "That's heaven????"  It was obvious from his voice that he was keenly disappointed; clearly it didn't even come close to his expectations!  He was mighty relieved when I (laughingly, I couldn't help it) explained that it was actually showing the island where John was imprisoned.  And yes indeed, heaven will be far better than that!

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Check out Mary at Not Before 7 for more Tiny Talk Tuesday.

Flashbacks...or, David as a Two-Year-Old

Recently I've been trying to find some extra minutes to spend on a never-ending project:  organizing our pictures on our computer.  Our regular computer plods along like a donkey with too-heavy burdens swinging from its sides:  it eventually gets where it needs to go, but the slowness of the ride is apt to drive a person crazy.  Jeff tells me what percentage of our computer's storage space is used up by my pictures; and although I can't remember the amount, I know it's astonishing.  And so I resolve to organize, delete, label, do everything I want to do before Jeff transfers the picture folders into other storage options.  Being a perfectionist in this area, I can't bring myself to say, "OK, have at it.  Just transfer the pictures to a disk and be done with it.  I'll sort through them later."  No, I must have them in perfect order before this occurs.  It takes a while, but Jeff is patient with me.  And our old computer plods along...

The good thing about this is that it is incredibly fun to look through old pictures and be reminded of how things were even a few years ago.  The boys have changed so much.  That isn't profound or original or surprising, but it is oh-so-true.  They've changed SO MUCH, to the point of it being a little bittersweet to even see the old pictures and watch the old movies.  I'm so glad we captured those moments, but could we please just go back and relive them?

I've finished the 2007 folder, and found some videos of David that made me smile...and made my heart ache...and made me laugh...and made me sigh.

First, this is David in January 2007; he was one year and nine months old.  Of course, I think he had impressive rhythm skills for being so young!  :)

This was taken two days before David turned two years old.  I'm so grateful that we have a record of how he {so cutely} said the name of each family member.

I thought David would never get around to talking.  His "everything" word was "ah-dah," and he used it for...well...everything.  But finally, just before he turned two, his tongue was loosed, and speech began to pour forth.  This video of him talking was taken on May 5, a few weeks after his second birthday.

David knew his letters at a very young age.  Even though he didn't say much, he was very good with all the letters; and we even joked that he would be reading and writing before he would be talking.  :)  In this video, he was two years and one month; and he had no trouble matching the letters to their appropriate place on the chart.  He's so smart...

...and cute...
...adorable...
...huggable...
...lovable.

A sugarlump of sweetness!