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.

A Funny Thing Happened Around the Christmas Table

We always get to celebrate two Christmases.  The first occurs on Christmas Day; and besides our little celebration and gift-opening in the morning with just our boys and my parents, we also have the fun of having people over for dinner.  Basically, any friends we have that don't have somewhere else to go that day get invited to our house!  :)  We've done this for years--as young marrieds in California, as expats in Israel, and now here in Virginia--and it's always interesting to see who turns up and what combinations of people end up together around our Christmas table.

The second celebration usually happens a few days later when my brother and his family from Pennsylvania come down, and any other family members that we can rope into coming are here as well.  Unfortunately, it's been years since we had all my family (my parents, siblings, spouses, and kids) together in one spot; in fact, I can't even remember the last time it happened.  But we celebrate with whoever can be here, and we remember those who cannot.

Besides being a chance for the adults to converse with each other, our times together are also a hoot for the younger generation.  Cousins are just so much fun!  It's also precious to see how quickly our boys reconnect with aunts and uncles.  I may be a bit biased, but I think my sons are exceptionally warm and affectionate.  ;-)

These pictures that I took during our celebration a week ago are poor technically, but the family togetherness they capture is precious to me.  

Tobin made himself comfortable...

...between his aunt and uncle...

...and looked at all the pictures in the photo book they made for my parents...

...before my parents had a chance to look at it!

You woulda thought he owned that thing!  :)

Anyway, what I was thinking about, when I started this post, is that as we were sitting around the stretched-out table eating, Josiah took a bite of something, felt something hard in his mouth, and discovered that one of his teeth had fallen out!!!  It had been loose for a little while, but not a very long time; and as far as we knew, it wasn't exceptionally loose.  But somehow he happened to bite down on something just right, and it knocked the tooth clean out!  That was the easiest tooth removal we've had so far.  ;-)

We *always* have to take a cousin picture.

A few things have changed since these cousin pictures from years ago.  :)

Right before the cousins started their trip back to PA, my David shouted, "We have to take a picture of me and Uncle David!"  He was right; we have to.  Always.  :)

Some things never change.  And you know, we really wouldn't want them to.

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  :)

The Funniest Thing I Heard All Day...

...came from the lips of my firstborn at supper tonight.

My parents were telling us about the memorial service they attended today (and provided music for--my mother played the piano, and my dad the trumpet--you didn't know he plays the trumpet?--well, neither did almost everyone in attendance at the service--but now they know, and so do you!).  The service was for a wonderful, dear lady, and I remember her with much fondness, and I could write a whole post about that... 

However, to stick to the point, I was asking Dad what kind of cancer Ellen had--specifically, where it started.  He answered that it started in her ovaries.

"What's an ovary?" Josiah wondered aloud.

I responded off-handedly, as if this wasn't a Sensitive Subject.  "The place where a woman's eggs are stored."

His reply was immediate and sarcastic.  "Oh, great!"  Then he continued, "Please don't talk about that.  Especially in front of David and everybody else.  I don't really like the subject."

I nearly cracked up then and there, but I tried to respect his dignity and not give full release to my merriment.  Now that he's in bed, however, I can laugh all I want.    ;-)

That boy!  How I love him!

It Sounded Wise

I was in the middle of writing a much lengthier post tonight, but then Shav interrupted me with persistent cries that needed some attention.  I ended up sitting here in my rocking chair, with him in my arms, and a soft blue blanket around us both.  He fell asleep on my shoulder, and I savored the feel of his head resting on me and his dear body getting heavy in my arms.  These moments fly so quickly...

So, Long Post didn't get done, but Short Post will stand in for him.

Today, I said to Josiah, "For a boy of eight, you're pretty wise."

His response:  "That's because I look beyond the targets of my gun."

Doesn't that sound so wise?  I'm not sure exactly what it means, although I'm fairly certain he was using "gun" metaphorically because, although I can't remember the specific context of our conversation, I know we weren't discussing weaponry.  But doesn't it seem so profound?

I'm sure if I had more time, I could dig deeper and find the blog post just waiting to be written about his statement.  "Looking Beyond the Targets of My Gun."  It has a meaningful ring to it, don't you think?

Next time I'm burning the midnight oil with Shav in my arms, maybe I'll figure out the significance of it all.  Until then, I'll just admire the weight of wisdom those words carry.

Even if I don't understand it.  ;-)

~ pictures from way back in September...posted here tonight just for fun

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!

Mother-in-Law o' Mine, Part Three

~ my mother-in-law holding Tobin, during our California trip in May of 2009 - Tobin was 16 months old, which is just about how old Shav is now

In case you're randomly clicking over here, this post is a continuation of the story of my relationship with Jeff's parents.  Part One is here, Part Two is here.  But before I pick up the story, I want to say one thing in response to Morning's thoughtful comment that she left on Part Two.  Actually, as is usually the case with me, there is a lot I want to say about it!  :)  But I'll insert just one point I want to make now, and then perhaps answer her question more fully as I continue the story.  But, Morning, if by the end of all of this, you don't feel like I answered your question clearly or adequately, please feel free to ask again; I value your perspective and input!

Her query brought to mind one of the benefits of the rough start I had in my relationship with my in-laws (there's no great loss without some small gain, as my grandmother used to say!), and that is this:  it was very clear that Jeff and I were marrying each other for each other.  We definitely weren't getting married because of convenience, or because people thought we should, or because we thought we'd make cute kids together, or because our tax situation would improve if we were married.  Our only matchmaker was God, and there was certainly no family pressure to marry each other!  (That is, until my parents met him and "fell in love" with him, so to speak...)  :)  Jeff and I quickly developed a strong bond with each other, in part because it was Us against Everybody Else.

As I think back over the paths I could have taken and the men I could have married (not that there were scores of men waiting around to marry me - not at all!), I realize that with one, I could have married him for his church.  With another, I could have married him for his family.  With another, I could have married him for his money.  But with Jeff - oh, with Jeff!  I married him for the man.  I want to be careful how I say that because I know the wife of one of those men reads my blog and the parents of another one have read it, and I am in no way implying that those individuals aren't wonderful men, too.  Of course they are, and they are perfect for their respective spouses.  But Jeff, my dearest Jeff, the one who holds the key to my heart, he is perfect for me; and because of the way our relationship began without a lot of (or any) parental support, I never had to question my motives for marrying him.  If I was crazy enough to go against family, I must really love that man!  :)

Now, back to the unfolding story...

The next chapter in the history of my in-law relationship could be entitled "Along Came Josiah."  Having a child changes everything, and having a grandchild changes everything again, doesn't it?

It "just so happened" that I found out I was pregnant on a day we were planning to drive up to Big Bear to visit Jeff's parents.  It was Columbus Day 2001, very shortly after the terrorist attacks of Sept. 11; and as I thought about Columbus' huge discovery, I felt like my own discovery that morning was almost equally as significant!  :)  It was very special to be able to share it with Jeff's parents right away, face to face.  I remember being outside that day in the beautiful fall weather; in their backyard was an apple tree which was producing loads of luscious green apples.  I ate and ate and ate green apples that day!  And together with the future grandparents, we rejoiced!

As the pregnancy progressed, Jeff's parents followed along with all the developments; and I particularly remember his mom and sister coming to my baby shower (which was an amazing night - wow, I loved that party!).  But I still remember feeling very much closer to my mom than to Jeff's.  With my mom, it was all comfort and security; with Jeff's, I still felt some insecurity and had the sensation of being an outsider.  Jeff was the go-between, the link between his parents and I.  Without him, things felt a bit awkward.

When Josiah was born, Jeff's parents drove down from Big Bear right away and came to the hospital to visit us which meant a lot to me at the time and still does.  In general, as far as basic personality, Jeff's dad was the gruff one, and his mom the friendlier one; but when it came to Josiah, Grandpa Fisher became the most tender man you could imagine.  He really loved Josiah.  In this old post from the very early days of this blog, there is a picture of Jeff's dad holding Josiah in the hospital; and to me, there is LOVE written all over that picture.

Little did we know, when that picture was taken, that within a matter of months, Jeff and I and our tiny baby would be moving halfway around the world to Israel.  Little did we know that a few weeks after our move, Jeff's dad would suffer a terrible stroke and never recover, lingering for a time in the hospital and rehab center, but ultimately dying the day before my 27th birthday.  We didn't know that Thanksgiving of 2001 would be the last one we would celebrate in their home in Big Bear.  I had no idea, as I watched Jeff's dad hold Josiah and talk to him and love on him, that before Josiah got old enough to even remember his grandpa, he would be gone.  When some members of the Fisher family got together at the Old Spaghetti Factory in downtown San Diego for our last hurrah before our flight to Israel, I never once thought that it would be the last time we would be able to gather in such a way.

Looking back with the perspective that time brings, I'm increasingly grateful for the five and a half years of marriage we had before our move to Israel and our loss of Jeff's dad.  I'm grateful for the time we spent together, the memories we made, the books we discussed, the meals we shared, the games we played, the museums we visited, the holidays we celebrated - together.  My relationship with my in-laws grew so much during that time:  from who-is-this-girl-and-why-does-she-want-to-marry-our-son to genuine love and acceptance and goodwill towards each other.  I'm so thankful for that.

But despite that growth, I still wasn't at the point - and never dreamed I would be! - of welcoming my mother-in-law into my home for a month!

Maybe tomorrow I'll get to actually finish the story and show how I got to that point.  :)

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!  ;-)

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!  :)

********

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!

********

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!

********

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!"

********

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?  :)

********

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!"

********

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.

So There's This Boy...

...and his name is...well, maybe I won't say his name.  But I will tell you that he is in Josiah's group violin lesson, and his behavior is horrible.  H-O-R-R-I-B-L-E.  When the teacher asks everyone to stand up to play a piece, he sits down.  When the teacher leads them in a G scale, he plays the whole thing a note off, just to mess it all up.  When the teacher tries to give instructions, he doesn't listen but instead plays a shrill trill on the E string.  Everything he can do to communicate his disrespect is done, it seems, with not a shred of self-control present in his little body.  And not only does he not control himself, apparently no one else can either.

I feel sorry for his private teacher; I don't know how she takes it.  I feel sorry for his group teacher; her strategy seems to be to placate him and let him have his way, with only occasional verbal requests for him to behave properly (and it goes without saying that those requests are generally ignored by him).  I feel sorry for his dad who has to deal with his behavior (I've never seen his mom, so I don't know the story there).  And you know what else?  I feel sorry for him.

He wouldn't act that way unless he had been allowed to get away with his rebellion and disobedience during the formative years of his early childhood.  It seems to me that this is clearly a situation where his parents need to take responsibility for the troublemaker they have created.

But here's my reason for venting in this post about my vexation with him.  My heart aches for him...and for his family...and for those whose paths cross his; and I long to reach out to him and his family and help them see that it doesn't have to be this way.  But how do I do that?  How would Jesus treat him, if Jesus Himself were sitting in that rehearsal hall?  What kind of conversation would Jesus have with his dad?  How can I (and Josiah) be Jesus with skin on to this lost, hurting boy...and his bewildered, hurting dad?

I have no interest in becoming a self-righteous Pharisee, looking down the end of my nose at the sinner before me; and even more, I have no interest in raising one.  I want to help Josiah to be humble, to truly grasp the idea of "there, but for the grace of God, go I."  At the same time, my blood boils and my mama bear instincts come out when I see that boy messing with my son.  I want to go up to him and growl menacingly, "Don't you dare, kid.  I know you think you can get away with anything, but don't even think about laying a hand on my son."  Today, when he literally reached out and started physically bugging Josiah, I was proud of my son when he turned to the boy and said, "Quit it!"  And in fact, after we left the lesson, I said, "If that happens again, you can say that loudly to him, so that the teacher can hear you and know what is going on!"  :)  But I also tried to emphasize that we're commanded to not sin, even when we're angry, so Josiah has a responsibility to be careful of how he speaks and acts to that boy, even when Josiah is provoked.

I know that because we homeschool, we rarely encounter situations like these.  We're insulated from the disobedience, disrespect, rebellion, and bullying that appears to be so common in the world today.  We act deliberately and work hard to build and maintain a culture of respect in our home.  Maybe that's why behavior like this boy exhibits is so shocking to us.

More than shocked though, the emotion I mostly feel is sadness.  That poor boy.  He's going to have such a rough path through life unless he learns to bow his head in submission to authority.

How can we help him?  What can we do?  I'm stymied.

Thoughts???

The SVCC Bear

A week ago, Josiah bounded into the house after childrens' choir practice (Jeff picks him up on his way home from work), excitedly showing me a teddy bear and announcing that IT WAS HIS TURN TO KEEP THE BEAR FOR A WEEK!  Did I mention that he was a little excited?

I'm not sure how the order of which child gets it for which week is determined, but this cute teddy bear gets passed around to different members of the Prep Choir who take it home, love on it (or ignore it - who knows?), and then bring it back the following week so it can be given to someone else.

Josiah certainly didn't ignore it.  Oh no, this bear got plenty of cuddle time this week.  Isn't it delightful to see a great big boy at eight years of age snuggling with a special teddy bear?  

I think so.  ;-)  And that's just another reason why I love the SVCC!

Ten Tidbits

Every time I sit down at the computer, I'm struck with amnesia.

I check email, look at the new header on my blog, open my Google Reader, flit here and there; and after a while, I walk away from the computer...and suddenly realize that I didn't accomplish anything that I had intended to do when I sat down in front of the computer.

I usually have a plan--i.e. I need to send an email to our homeschool group, respond to Sally's question, and look up some info about volcanoes for Josiah--and then somehow, I don't remember to do ANY of it...until five minutes AFTER I leave the computer.

What's wrong with my brain?  I think I lose brain cells every minute I sit in front of this screen.  ;-)

********

I just finished reading Stepping Heavenward by Elizabeth Prentiss, and I discovered many gems in it.  But tonight I'm thinking of these lines in particular.  This, in a nutshell, is why I blog:
"How thankful I am that I kept this journal and that I have almost as charming ones about most of my other children!  What I speedily forgot amid the pressure of cares and of new events is safely written down and will be the source of endless pleasures to them long after the hand that wrote has ceased from its labors and lies inactive and at rest.
Ah, it is a blessed thing to be a mother!"

********

Josiah read six books today.  In one day.  Six books.  He's a wild man.  :)

His latest love when it comes to reading is Boxcar Children books, and we check out piles and piles of them from the library.  If we didn't have the library, we wouldn't be able to afford all the books that boy goes through!

He's so into it when he reads.  I love to hear his laughter in the funny parts, his anxiety in the suspenseful parts, his exclamations in the "now I get it" parts.  He LOVES trying to figure out the mystery before the author reveals it.

I don't know what books are going to capture his attention when he finishes reading the Boxcar Children ones.  Suggestions?

As far as movies go, he's really enjoyed Scooby Doo movies recently.  He's at the stage of getting a huge kick out of the silly humor in them, and I smile when I hear his peals of laughter float up the stairs as he cracks up at Scooby and Shaggy.

********

After having some cooler, suggestive-of-fall weather, we're back to hot, hot days again.  Fortunately, the nights cool down, and there's easily a 30-degree difference between high and low temps these days.

I have been extraordinarily grateful for our air conditioning this summer--more so than any other summer since we've been back.  Last summer, I thought I was going to be SO hot because of being so far along in my pregnancy; but it wasn't bad at all.  This summer, the heat has been far more bothersome to me, even though I'm not carrying an internal heater around with me!  :)

********

Speaking of summer, I've been grateful that we haven't had as many flies as we did last year (which seemed to be a record-breaker as far as the abundance of flies).  And speaking of record-breaking, we have not had ants in the kitchen once this summer.  Not once.  I'm flabbergasted.

It's certainly not due to the immaculate condition in which I've continually kept my kitchen because that - sigh - hasn't happened.  Nevertheless, I'm very thankful for whatever unknown factor has kept the ants away this year.

********

This was the scene in our front yard a few weeks ago:

The rabbit watched something.
The cat watched the rabbit.
I watched them both.

Fortunately, for the rabbit, he is fast; and the cat never got to do more than look.

********

This is what flexibility looks like for me these days:  I work in whatever room of the house Shav is happy in.

I might start the day with a plan to focus on my pile of paperwork by the telephone and to clean the refrigerator; but if Shav is playing happily in the laundry room, that is where I'll end up spending my time!  Or maybe I think I'll work in my room and finally get ALL the laundry folded and put away; but then I hear how well Shav and David are playing together in the living room, and I don't want to disturb that by moving Shav upstairs.  We all know the saying, "Don't wake a sleeping baby," but I'm adding a new one:

Don't move a content baby!

I can be flexible.  I can work wherever Shav is happy.  And goodness knows that I can always find something to do in each room of the house!!!

*********

Josiah loves paper, and he uses plenty of it.  Because I can't save every single precious scrap that he touches with a pencil, I've snapped these pictures instead:

~ a retelling of the parable of the man who found great treasure in a field

~ directions for how make "jewels" - I especially love the last step of the process, "Have fun."  That's an important step, yes?  So important that People Who Write Directions for Children's Activities often include it as their final instruction.  Ever noticed that?  Josiah did--and imitated it perfectly.  :)

~ Josiah's "What to do when I grow up list" - and then he didn't write anything - not one single career ambition - but that's OK: his career goals change almost daily, so it really would be too much trouble to write them all down!

********

You might be a country doctor if...

...your patients cry when they visit you for the last time before you retire, claim that you're a part of their family - and then hand you a bag of eggplants from their garden as a parting gift!

I surely am glad Dulcimer just posted a recipe using eggplants, because I had never cooked eggplants before and had no idea what to do with them when Dad handed me the eggplants that his patient handed him.

********

A quote that struck me:

My friends, adoption is redemption. It's costly, exhausting, expensive, and outrageous. Buying back lives costs so much. When God set out to redeem us, it killed Him.

~ Derek Loux

seen at Living to Love

I Never Get Tired of...

...seeing 
my 
boys 
sleep.

Never.

Such

peace.

It's

heavenly.

Shav always sleeps diagonally or full-on sideways in his crib; at least, that's the way I always find him.

I love to "study" my boys and memorize their sweet little habits.

All of this talk about sleeping children and all of these links and pictures make me think of a quote by Joe Houldsworth:

The only thing worth stealing is a kiss from a sleeping child.

It also reminds me of one of the funniest sleeping-boy episodes we had.  When we lived in Israel, we came back to the East Coast about once a year; and during those trips, we packed so much into our schedule.  There were always so many people to visit and so many USA-only activities to do.  On one of those trips, we were visiting Lisa (one of my college roommates) and her husband Andrew in the D.C. area.  Josiah was old enough by that point to walk and talk and play with toys; but even though it was a new house to explore, he was shy enough that he stuck close to Jeff and I and didn't wander too far away.  At one point, Jeff was sitting down talking to Andrew, and Josiah was standing right next to Jeff's leg.  We knew he was tired--those trips were such a whirlwind, between the jet lag and the busy schedule, that fatigue was normal--but we didn't know just how tired he was until his body started wobbling.  

He had literally fallen asleep standing up.  :)

Josiah Is My Son Who...

...tends to be a little bit grumpy during the morning after an evening in which we hold a potluck here. The visual mess and clutter that lingers after such a gathering really bothers him, and he is eager for me to start cleaning it up. :)

He is also my son who notices when I do begin to bring order to the house again, and he says, "Thanks, Mom, for cleaning up the living room."

It's nice to be appreciated. :)

********

Josiah is also my son who got out of bed this evening, came over to my room where I was sitting in my rocking chair, looked at my laptop, and said with a dreamy smile on his face, "Can you play that again? And can I turn off the fan in the hall so I can hear it better? I like that music; it makes me sleepy."

This is what I was listening to:

Lightning Struck Twice

Before Tobin became a scooter, I had no idea that children got around that way. I knew, of course, that most children crawled and then walked (although some skipped the crawling stage and went directly to walking and that was supposed to be the source of some concern but I'm not exactly sure why), but I didn't know that some simply sat on their little bottoms and scooted around. Tobin enlightened me, and we all thought it was darling.

When Shav came along, I was sure he would be a crawler, then a walker. After all, with scooting being relatively rare, surely we wouldn't have two of those in the same family, right?

Wrong.

Shav scoots.

When he was 11 months old, I would put him on the floor in a sitting position to play with some toys; and when I looked over at him after a little while, he wouldn't be in the same place I left him. I started covertly watching him to see how he was doing it (because he would be distracted by me if I gave him my full attention); and sure enough, he was inching his way along, scoot by scoot by scoot. Little scoots. Slow scoots. But definitely scoots!

By the time he was a year, he was a pro; and now, his speed is increasing, and he can get all over the place in no time at all. He is so happy and content to just be on the floor, scooting around, checking out the things that interest him, having control over where he goes. During one dinnertime, he had already eaten so I put him on the floor and he scooted under the table and cheerfully went from person to person, pulling on shoelaces and patting legs. When I was putting laundry away upstairs today, he scooted from his room to my room to the hall to Tobin's room and back and forth, pulling books off shelves, playing with toy cars, piling blocks into the empty laundry basket. He was so happy!

One day, back when I didn't realize what a speedy little scooter he had become, I had him upstairs with me while I was putting away some things in the bathroom. All at once, the silence caught my attention--that dreadful silence that tells a mom that something must surely be wrong. Sure enough, he had scooted all the way to the top of the stairs and was peering down them with great interest. I ran and caught him before he decided to try to scoot down them! Whew! That was close.

Needless to say, we've pulled out the baby gates again. Wasn't it just a few days ago that we put them away after Tobin became proficient on the steps?? ;-) Time, it is a-flyin'.

The funny thing about Shav becoming a scooter is that, by the time he was really aware of what was going on around him, Tobin was walking, not scooting, so I don't think Shav learned it from him. Somehow, for some unknown reason, lightning struck twice and gave us two cute scooters in this family. ;-)

Now, some pictures. First, two pictures of Josiah when he was about the age that Shav is now. We lived in Israel then, in a very small apartment. We did make room for books, however; that's a given. Josiah loved to sit by this shelf, pull off the books, and look at them over and over. Now Shav does the same thing (in a different home and with a different shelf, however).

And here is Josiah wearing the outfit that Shav was wearing just the other day.
I love the flashbacks that come when I see my little boys wearing clothes that their older brothers wore before them. :)

And now, here's sweet Shav, the lover of books, the maker of messes, Scooter II! :)

I tried to get a good video of him scooting the other day, but he stopped when he saw the camera. Figures. I'll have to try again another day.

Mobility does have its disadvantages--for Mommy, at least. Shav was playing with blocks in the bathroom, and this is what I found:
He doesn't pull up to a standing position yet, so he wasn't able to see into the toilet. But he could scoot over to it, yellow block in hand, and reach up to make a deposit. :)

Scooter II is definitely keeping me on my toes! :)