Will Stand for Applause

With only a few weeks to go until Shav hits the 18 month mark (the age at which my boys "normally" take their first steps), he's progressing right along, perfectly on schedule.  Who cares that all the child development books say he's late?!  :)  He's an expert at cruising, but his big, new accomplishment recently is standing up by himself, without pulling up on something.  See?

It's amazing what a person Shav will do for a little public acclamation!

And speaking of Shav, I was really hoping that this would be the year in which his sleep habits would show marked improvement.  I was looking forward to many nights of peaceful, all-night-long sleep.

So far, we're 0 for 3.

Sigh.

I love him anyway.  ;-)

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

Have You Done It?

Last weekend, I had the privilege of taking part in a Christmas program for the residents at a local nursing home.  I've been wanting to do that for years, because outreach to the sometimes-abandoned elderly is dear to my heart; but I had never made it happen.  This year, however, Josiah wanted the opportunity to play a few piano pieces somewhere, and it worked out for him to play in this program and for me to sing in it.  

It was an incredibly moving experience for me; and if I had more time, I would write much more about it.  But here is what I want to focus on tonight:  one of the women in our group sang "O Holy Night."  And it got me.

Everybody knows that song, right?  When I hear the first notes of it, I usually think, "What a gorgeous song!"  But by the end of it, I'm thinking, "What a long song.  Whew, I'm sort of glad it's over."  Maybe I'm the only one who feels that way.  :)  I'm sure, however, that I'm not the only one who likes to belt out "O niiiiiiight diviiiiiiiine" when no one is around.  I'm pretty sure Jeff doesn't do that.  I'm pretty sure I have a time or two.  This year.  Every time I hear it on the radio.  ;-)

One of the lines in the song says this:

Fall on your knees.

And when I heard Cara belt out that line in the activity room of the nursing home, I thought, "What am I doing on my feet?"  I was so moved by that whole morning of music that I could hardly keep the tears from flowing, though I hid it well, I think.  As I stood there listening to her, my thoughts were racing:  Yes, I should literally fall on my knees.  The awe that God's entrance to earth produces knocks me over.  But if I really do kneel now, what will everyone think?  I'm just here to sing harmony on a few Christmas carols, not to cause a stir or raise a ruckus.  What do I do?

I stood.  I didn't fall on my knees.  The program went on, I kept my tears of wonder in check, and the residents got cookies at the end.  Nice.  But not awesome.  Not awestruck.  I didn't do what the song said.

Until later...

Was it that night or the next that I was here at home, late at night, with everyone else asleep?  The radio was on in the background as I went about my various tasks, when suddenly I heard those familiar arpeggios as "O Holy Night" began.  It wasn't hard to figure out what to do.  Without delay, I dropped to my knees, let the magnificence of the lyrics wash over me, and worshiped.

So.

Have you? 

Have you heard "O Holy Night" this Christmas season?  I would wager (except I don't) that the answer is yes.

Have you done what it says?

Have you fallen on your knees?

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Today, I sat on the floor near Shav and watched him play with the figures from our manger scene.

As he lifted the camel and moved the sheep and tried to set one of the Wise Men on the sloping roof and, yes, popped Baby Jesus' head into his mouth (until I gently admonished him, "Don't suck on Jesus, Shav"), I silently prayed.

"May the commonplace not become ordinary.  May my familiarity with this story not breed contempt.  May the easy availability of nativity sets of every size, shape, and material not diminish my respect for who these figures portray."

"Lord, may I never hesitate to fall on my knees before you, aware of the majesty of your coming, and filled with delight in your presence.  Let me not forget Who Christmas is all about."

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  :)

Something's Wrong...

...and I don't know what to do about it.

It concerns Shav.  *Sigh.*

Our youngest son is exquisite.  Treasured beyond my ability to describe, he is a perfect puzzle piece for our family.  I love him more and more and cannot bear to think of life without him.

With all that said, I'll also admit that Shav has never been the greatest sleeper--a fact which, if you've read this blog for a while, you're very familiar with.  To tell you the truth, he's the worst sleeper we've had; and after three boys who consistently slept through the night from a very young age, I've had to really adjust to Shav's challenging sleep habits.

However, he had been doing much better in recent months; and I was hopeful that his sleep issues were a thing of the past.  I was hopeful, that is, until he started waking up in the night, screaming at the top of his lungs.  *Sigh.*  Here we go again.

My first course of action, when awakened by his cries, is to go to him, pick him up, let him bury his head in my shoulder for a little cuddle, give him a drink of water, do the familiar-to-every-mother sniff test to discern whether his diaper is dirty, then lay him back down and tuck his blankets around him.  When these latest sleep disturbances started happening, he was comforted by me doing that.

But after a few times of that, he apparently decided that that was not enough; and the comforting progressed to me holding him for a few minutes in the rocking chair before laying him back down.  As you can guess, that worked for a while; but then came a night or two when that didn't do the trick and Jeff ended up holding him in bed or taking him downstairs.  But then...  *Sigh.*

Shav started waking up and crying hard, very hard.  When I would go to him to comfort him, he would cry harder and arch his back as if in pain.  When I would reach out for him to pick him up, he would roll away from me and sometimes even grab the crib railings and cling to them.  When I would gently say his name, he would wail louder.  When I would lift him in my arms, he would push himself away with all his might and make me feel like he was going to do a back-flip and propel himself out of my arms.  He made it crystal-clear that HE DID NOT WANT ME TO HOLD HIM.

That happened a few times in the night; but today, it happened during his nap, and the episode lasted about 40 minutes.  I don't like this progression, this sequence of events that makes me feel so dreadfully helpless.

It's absolutely bewildering to me.  Why does he do that?  Why doesn't he let me comfort him?  The possible explanations we've pondered are:
1. pain,
2. constipation (a form of pain),
3. character issue/temper tantrum,
or
4. night terrors.

Pain was definitely my first assumption, based on how he was arching his back and writhing.  But the fact that he didn't even want me to hold him left me puzzled, and besides, if he was in some kind of pain, wouldn't it hit him while he was awake and out of bed, too?

Same with constipation--wouldn't he have spells with that at other times, too, and not just when he was in bed sound asleep?

Jeff and I thought that maybe Shav was reacting to the fact that he knows that when he cries in the night, I'll pick him up and comfort him briefly, but then put him back in bed.  Maybe he wasn't getting what he wanted, and so he was taking it out on us in a way that an almost 17-month-old can do:  by throwing a fit.  But if it's just a temper tantrum about having to be in bed, why then did he do that this afternoon during his nap when I did come to him, take him out of bed, carry him downstairs, offer milk, get him ready to play, etc.?

That leaves us with option #4.

I was vaguely familiar with the term "night terrors," but I only really knew enough about them to be confident that none of our other boys had dealt with them.  A quick Internet search, however, uncovered a huge amount of information about them (here is just one among many articles about them...and here is another).  Is it possible that Shav has started having these?

Some of the symptoms sound like what he's been going through--for example, the way he fiercely resists being touched or spoken to--but his crying spells last much longer than the few minutes these articles mention.  Not ever having had experience with night terrors, I'm at a loss to know if that's what is going on.

Is it something else entirely?  Something we haven't even thought of?

I just don't know how to help him.  I feel so helpless.  *Sigh.*


*BIG sigh.*

Oil on My Head

Did you ever read Psalm 133 (about unity between brothers being like oil poured over the head and beard and to the edges of the robe) and think, "Ewwww.  Who would want that?"  ;-)

While it may be true that culturally, we can't quite relate to the significance of oil on the head or the desire to be anointed in such a way, think of how we do use oil.  How about the way it keeps machines going and helps gears mesh without too much friction or overheating?  

In our family, the oil of brotherly unity keeps our wheels turning, and that oil is made up in large part of fun and laughter.  The family that laughs together stays together, right?  

When I watch Tobin playing "chase me" and "peekaboo" with Shav around the couch, I feel the oil refreshing me.

When I see an impromptu concert with my three oldest sons, and no one gets mad at each other or tells their brothers to stop interrupting them, it's oil on my head.

When Tobin wants the stage and I see an older brother hovering in the background, but the older brother doesn't demand attention or do anything to antagonize Tobin, I think, "Well, we're making progress!"  The oil washes over me.

When I watch them, on another occasion, having so much fun together, instead of being The Sandpaper Boys who rub each other the wrong way, I sense more oil being poured out.

When Josiah and David decide to empty the block box so they can both fit inside and I hear their joy, the oil flows again.

Off-topic here, but did you notice in that last video how Shav was cruising around so well with his walker?  Isn't he amazing?  :)

He is doing GREAT with walking when holding on to something, but do you think that boy likes to be enticed and encouraged to take a step alone?

Not at all.

But it will happen.  One of these days, he'll let go and launch out and discover that he possesses the power to walk.  And the delight which will flow from my little band of boys to their littlest brother will be like oil on my head, like oil in the cogs as our life as a family swirls around.

In the Early Morning Hours...

...the house was peaceful.  It was just me and the Christmas tree.

Yep, just me and the Christmas tree and the cheery fire in the woodstove.

 That's right, just me and the Christmas tree and the cheery fire in the woodstove and a cup of coffee.

Yes, like I said, just me and the Christmas tree and the cheery fire in the woodstove and a cup of coffee AND this little fellow...

...who, in the early morning hours, apparently decided that he had had ENOUGH of sleeping and it was time to get up right now!  So he and I went downstairs, he had a little bite of breakfast, he played and climbed on me, I watched and applauded as he scooted and sat up and stood up and cruised, he smiled gleefully as I twirled big plastic rings on the floor.  Great fun.

"Well," thought I, "if I have to be awake this early..."  (because, remind me again, WHO gets up this early by choice??)

"...I might as well turn it into a blog post!"

And I did.  

The End  ;-)

The Shavs in December of 2010

Some traditions start by accident.  Some begin with intentional thought.  And some?  Well, they start with an action that is just too cute not to do again; and thus is born a tradition!

Case in point:  a yearly picture of Shav the Boy and Shav the Bear together.  This was the first installment of the Shavs, taken way back on January 2 of this year and originally posted here:

I remember thinking, as I snapped that photo, "I sure hope Shav doesn't pitch himself forward and fall out of that chair!"  So much changes in {almost} a year.

Here is what this darling pair looked like today, 11 months after the first photo:

Such delectable sweetness!  

May this series featuring The Shavs continue for many, many years!  :)

Mother-in-Law o' Mine, Part Six

Continuing the story from Part Five...

No wonder I was scared.

When I consider the fact that Shav is now 16 months old and that, when Tobin was 16 months old, I was only two months from having another child, I "scarce can take it in."  (I know that line sounds better in "How Great Thou Art," but it describes my feelings about this, too!)  To think of adding a baby to the mix while Shav is still so young and needy--not walking independently, not saying many words clearly, not always communicating his desires effectively, not even close to self-sufficiency in dressing and basic care, not to mention potty-training!--it makes my knees shake just thinking about it...and, to be perfectly honest, it makes me breathe a sigh of relief that God has not seen fit to bless us in such a way at the present time!  :)  How did I ever get through it before, when Tobin was still, in many ways, my baby and Shav was The New Baby?  I guess the way we always get through difficult situations:  one day at a time, one foot in front of the other.  But looking back, I think, "It is no wonder at all that I was scared."

Mothers who have more than four children or who have children spaced even more closely than mine are allowed to snicker now at my incompetency and trepidation.  :)   But I had never had four children before!  And I had never had children born 18 months apart!  And I was trembling at the thought of it all.

But here is where the story gets good.  I love this part.  

That visit from Jeff's mom after Shav was born--yes, that three-week visit!--revolutionized my relationship with my mother-in-law.

Scattered throughout my posts from August of last year are snippets of praise for her--for example, Grandma Love describes how I decided that I wouldn't have another baby unless she came to stay with us and help out.  ;-)  I think it was obvious that I was truly enjoying having her with us; in fact, a number of people have commented to me (not so much on the blog, but more in real life) about my good relationship with my mother-in-law...and how surprised they were by how long she stayed and how happy I was about it...and how they didn't think they could ever do that with their mother-in-law!  So what made the difference?  What changed my reluctant, I-guess-you-can-stay-that-long heart into a welcoming, do-you-have-to-leave-so-soon heart?

In a word, humility.

There's something about having a baby that forces us to be humble.  No, I can't keep all the balls I'm trying to juggle in the air at one time, but that's OK because...I just had a baby.  Yes, my house is messy, but that's OK because...I just had a baby.  No, I can't remember the last time I cooked a real meal, but that's OK because...I just had a baby.  Yes, I realize the laundry is piled up higher than ever before, and yes, I'm aware that my son is wearing his last pair of clean underwear, but that's OK because...I just had a baby.  No, I'm not going to stay up to do all the dishes tonight, but that's OK because...I just had a baby.  Yes, I realize that a faint smell of stale milk is hovering around me, but that's OK because...I just had a baby!  Actually, that's not OK; that is a clear sign that I need a shower, so here, somebody help me out and watch my kids and I'm heading for the bathroom.  See you in a few!  ;-)

Probably more than at any other time in our lives as grown women, the process of giving birth and nurturing a tiny infant brings an incredibly sharp focus to our days, making it relatively easy to define what is wheat and what is chaff.  And with that clarity comes the ability to give grace to ourselves.  Nobody else is expecting us to be Superwoman, so for once, we can relax and leave our cape behind and not try to pretend that we've got it all together.  

At least, that's how it's been for me.

And that's how it was in August of last year when Jeff's mom was with us.  Probably for the first time ever, I set aside my prideful determination to be Wife and Mother of the Year; and I humbled myself, allowing her to shower us with loving acts of service, letting her see the real me--weak and frail though I may be, not holding her at arm's length in my determination to prove myself capable.  During those weeks, we didn't go on any long trips, we didn't show her the sights, we didn't focus on entertaining her (much to her relief, I'm sure).  Instead, she was just part of the family.  I say "just," but what an honor!  What a welcome change!  What a bonding time!

Once she got here and I saw how sweet it was to have her companionship and help, I felt exceedingly silly that I had been so nervous about it all and, consequently, so resistant to her stay.  How foolish I was!  I'm so grateful that God gave me the opportunity to learn that lesson; surely that was one of the unexpected side benefits of Shav coming into our family at that time.

Based on that visit and how dramatically different my heart became, I was looking forward to her 2010 visit with eager anticipation!  Whereas the mention of three weeks had been so disturbing to me in 2009, her decision to stay with us for four weeks this year was met with great rejoicing.  

As time sped by and the day of her arrival drew near, I wondered if perhaps I had built up too high an expectation of how this visit would go.  I was expecting it to be easy, but maybe it would be difficult?  I thought four weeks wasn't too long, but maybe I would chafe at her continued presence in our household?  I remembered how well we had worked as a team after Shav's birth, but maybe this year, now that I was back to being Capable and In Charge, we would experience friction?

If you've been reading my blog during the time she was with us, you likely already know that it was a fantastic visit together, full of normal activities, day-to-day living, a few special projects (like applesauce making!), a couple of homeschool field trips, but mostly life.  Plain ol' life.  No, make that good ol' life.  Life as a family of nine.  It just felt right.

Tomorrow I hope to do a wrap-up post, sort of a "What I've Learned about Mother-in-Law Relationships" kind of post.  But before I sign off for tonight, I want to mention how interesting it's been for me to walk along Memory Lane and drag from the recesses of my brain these thoughts about how my relationship with my in-laws developed.  Whew, I haven't thought about some of those things for quite a long time!  But it's been fun to try to summarize it all and to see how God has worked to mold my character through them and to see how He has bonded our hearts to each other.  Earlier this year, I read Stepping Heavenward by Elizabeth Prentiss; and one of the major struggles described in the book is her relationship with her in-laws, specifically her father-in-law and sister-in-law who come to live with her.  As I read Stepping Heavenward, I could relate to the sense of in-laws being an instrument used by God to chisel away at my selfishness and pride.  When I look back, I regret the times when I fretted because of the time I had to spend with my mother-in-law.  I'm ashamed of my childishness.  I wish I could rewind time and appreciate her visits more fully.  But of course, I can't; however, one thing I can do is move forward from this with greater love, peace, and humility.

As I've written this series of posts, I've sometimes wondered, "How is this coming across?"  Of course, I know what I'm thinking and how I'm feeling; but I'm not always sure that I'm communicating it clearly to those who are reading.  During the past almost two weeks, I have felt very vulnerable and second-guessed my decision to reveal so much of my heart and so many of my thoughts.  But then I've decided to charge ahead, hoping that somehow, by being so perilously open, someone else will be helped, and another mother-in-law/daughter-in-law pair will become closer and more loving towards each other.  

As I conclude my saga ("conclude" being a relative term, since I do want to write once more about this topic), perhaps I should emphasize the fact that, all along, my mother-in-law and I enjoyed a good relationship.  There weren't conflicts, we got along fine, no arguments broke out, we built great memories when we were together.  Overall, we really had a good relationship; and if it had never gotten any better, I would still have been satisfied.  But now that we have crossed a boundary that I didn't even know existed, I'm rejoicing at the beautiful depth that is possible between us.  I may not be a Ruth yet to my Naomi, but I'm on my way.  And, Lord willing, I'm not going to stop anytime soon!

These pictures of Grandma Fisher helping Shav up the driveway in our walker remind me so much of this post from September of last year about Grandma Huffman helping Tobin up the driveway in our walker.  As Yogi Berra would say, "It's deja vu all over again!"  :)

Remembering the Day

I couldn't let this day--this special day when Shav turns 16 months old--pass by without at least a mention of how treasured he is by us and how we're all crazy about him.

My thoughts have often turned, in recent days, to November 2008 when we were discovering that I was unexpectedly pregnant and were wrapping our brains around the idea of having two children so close in age.  

And now look at them!  Tobin at 34 months, and Shav at 16.  What a beautiful sight!

Happy 16-month birthday, sweet Shavi!  I'm entirely convinced that you are the most handsome Shav in the entire world.  Granted, there's not a whole lot of competition for the title of Most Handsome Shav; but even if your name was as common as Michael or Jacob, you'd still come out in first place in my book!  Not to mention the Most Wonderful Shav...the Most Loving Shav...the Funniest Shav...the Most Talented Shav...and definitely, without a doubt, the Best All-Around Shav!!  ;-)

Sometimes, They

Sometimes, they make each other shriek and cry.

Sometimes, I have to say, "Tobin, you can't take that from him," and "Shav, it's Tobin's turn now."

Sometimes, like in these pictures, they play together so nicely and cheerfully; it's like oil on Aaron's beard.

For such moments, my heart gives thanks.

We Miss Far Too Much

One of the great benefits of having my mother-in-law here is that she is eager to help in any way that she can.  The empty state of my dirty clothes chute and the piles of clean, folded laundry in my bedroom and in my kitchen attest to her servant's heart...and also demonstrate my need to make putting away laundry a priority in my schedule tomorrow!  The biggest way she helps, however, is by just being with my boys:  playing games with them, reading books to them, watching them run around the living room, etc.  I know that they are being attended to, and that frees me up to tackle some projects that require a little more uninterrupted time and concentration than I usually have at my disposal.

The project that has been going the best for me during the past few days is my Clean Out My Email Inbox Project.  At the beginning of this week, I had 619 emails in my in-box; now I have 280.  This is HUGE for me.  Dealing with emails is--obviously--something that I procrastinate terribly about; and before Jeff's mom got here, I felt like I would never get out from under the pile of accumulated emails.  In just a few days' time however, I have been able to make a huge dent in this area, mostly because I know my boys have been in good hands while I have spent extra time on the computer.  I'm so grateful for this--and so excited to see how low I can go.  Could I...maybe...is it possible...do I have the faith to dream that I could actually get to 0 emails???  If I do succeed, you know you're going to hear about it.  ;-)  I'll have to do a big "Yay Me" post, celebrating the accomplishment (but even more, expressing gratitude for the gift of time that Jeff's mom is giving me)!

One of the emails that I was pleased to read tonight was sent to me by my Aunt Elaine back in January of 2009.   It's a story that made the rounds of email in-boxes; perhaps you've read it before?  Here's how it goes:

A man sat at a metro station in Washington DC and started to play the violin; it was a cold January morning. He played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time, since it was rush hour, it was calculated that thousands of people went through the station, most of them on their way to work. Three minutes went by, and a middle-aged man noticed there was musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds and then hurried up to meet his schedule. A minute later, the violinist received his first dollar tip: a woman threw the money in the till and without stopping continued to walk. A few minutes later, someone leaned against the wall to listen to him, but the man looked at his watch and started to walk again. Clearly, he was late for work.

The one who paid the most attention was a three-year-old boy. His mother tagged him along hurried, but the kid stopped to look at the violinist. Finally, the mother pushed hard and the child continued to walk, turning his head all the time. This action was repeated by several other children. All the parents, without exception, forced them to move on.

In the 45 minutes the musician played, only six people stopped and stayed for a while. About 20 gave him money, but continued to walk their normal pace. He collected $32. When he finished playing and silence took over, no one noticed it. No one applauded, nor was there any recognition.

No one knew this, but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the best musicians in the world. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written, on a violin worth 3.5 million dollars.

Two days before his playing in the subway, Joshua Bell sold out at a theater in Boston where the seats averaged $100 apiece.

This is a real story [it really is; I checked it out at Snopes]. Joshua Bell, playing incognito in the metro station, was organized by the Washington Post as part of a social experiment about perception, taste and priorities of people. The outlines were: in a commonplace environment at an inappropriate hour: Do we perceive beauty? Do we stop to appreciate it? Do we recognize talent in an unexpected context?

One of the possible conclusions from this experiment could be:  If we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world playing some of the best music ever written, how many other things are we missing?

This was exactly what I needed to read tonight, especially because this evening--and really, this whole day--had more than its share of I'd-really-like-to-forget-this moments: power struggles with a two-year-old, verbal disrespect from a five-year-old (at the dinner table, no less, where the whole family, grandparents and all, could hear it), I-lost-a-tiny-Lego-piece wails from an eight-year-old, etc.  By the time we were halfway through supper, I realized that to preserve my sanity, I'd better just start laughing...so I did...and then I couldn't stop...so I put my napkin over my face and laughed until I cried.

You know, when you become a mom, people don't tell you that one day, when your oldest son asks at the dinner table, "What does VIP stand for?", you'll tell him "Very Interesting Pumpkins"--just to make him laugh. They don't tell you that seeing his face crinkle up in irrepressible giggles and hearing the joy erupt from his mouth will lead to your own case of irrepressible giggles and happy-crying.  They don't tell you that if you fix sticky rice, your two oldest sons will have to get out the chopsticks to eat it.  And if they get out chopsticks, your third son will also demand a pair.  And if he is given a pair of chopsticks, before the end of the meal, he will have dropped one down the back of his shirt and will be crying for you to take it out because it's poking him (in a rather sensitive area, too!).

Tonight, thanks in part to the story about Joshua Bell, I was calm and rational enough to realize that, despite the taxing demands of being a stay-at-home-mom of four little ones, there is so much beauty in my life:  maybe not beauty in the traditional sense of pale pink roses and a Chopin prelude, but beauty even in the mess of potty training, piles of clothes to put away, chopsticks down Tobin's back, and the other gritty realities of my life.

Tomorrow, I'm going to pause more often...breathe more deeply...notice more closely...smile more genuinely...and love more compassionately.

Because I don't want to miss a thing.

Look Who's Walking!! (Well, Sort Of)

Jeff called to me in the kitchen today:  "Did you know Shav can walk with the chair?"

Uh, no.  I didn't know that.

Now I know it.  :)

The ending is classic.  It's a miracle any of us survive to adulthood, what with all the bumps and bruises and falls and tumbles we endure as children.  Shav was not, by the way, hurt at all.  He cried a tiny bit, just from the indignity of it all, but quickly recovered to cruise some more.  :)

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.

Everyone Knows...

...that my sons tend to be rather late in developing large motor skills. Sitting up, crawling, walking, etc. - they take their time with all of that.

So it won't seem like anything noteworthy when I announce that this evening, at 14 and 1/2 months of age, Shav pulled up to a standing position all by himself. Babies born after him are practically running circles around him, but - hooray - Shav finally pulled up! :)

It happened this way: Jeff was giving Shav and Tobin a bath; and when I walked into the bathroom to see if I could lend a hand, Jeff had Tobin out of the tub and was drying him off...but lo and behold, Shav was standing up IN THE BATHTUB holding onto the side of the tub. Not exactly the safest place to be standing. I asked Jeff if Shav stood up by himself, and the answer was yes. All by his sweet self. I helped him sit back down (before he slipped and fell and conked his head on the edge of the tub); and as quick as a wink, he pulled himself back up. He got to do that a few more times before I got him out of the tub.

It may not be breaking news that Shav finally reached this milestone; but to us, it's worth celebrating. And now...

everyone knows.

I can't post this tonight without including a picture of my friend Liberty and her darling baby Asia. We went to the park this afternoon/evening, and I had a ball taking pictures of their family. I can see why real photographers get so excited about their work; it's so much fun! :)

1.25 {Almost}

This is the post I was going to write when Shav turned one.
This is the post that languished in my Drafts folder for nearly three months.
These are the rest of the pictures from the little photo shoot I did for his birthday.
These are the pictures that are now out-of-date (but I'll post them anyway).

Oh, well...say it all together now...better late than never!

Let me tell you about this {amazing, fantastic, super-duper, phenomenal, marvelous, incredible, adorable, magnificent} boy!

Back in July, when he turned one, he weighed 20.5 pounds and was 29.75 inches long. I have no idea what his current stats are.  Someday I'll remember to weigh and measure him again.

He has a lot of teeth, although he really doesn't like my finger in his mouth feeling for teeth so I haven't gotten an accurate count for a while.  But he, who started very early with teeth (four months old!), really has A LOT of them.

He does NOT like having a poopy diaper.  Likewise, he does NOT like having a poopy diaper changed.  When I get him up from a nap and he's pooped, he's usually crying hard; and I know that he'll cry while I pick him up from his crib, lay him down on the changing table, undo his clothes, take off his diaper, clean him up...then sometimes he stops crying at this point, but other times he cries all the way until I've got a clean diaper on him and have fastened his clothes again and have picked him up.  I'm really hoping that this strong dislike for poopy diapers will make him a breeze to potty-train!

When I carry him, I almost always hold him on my left side; I've always carried my babies like that.  But what's unique to him is that he will use his right hand, which is on my back, to grab hold of my shirt as he rides along.  I don't remember any of the other boys doing that, but I guess Shav uses that "handle" to feel more secure.  :)

He's a scooter, as I've mentioned before; and as such, he has calluses on his ankles.  The knees of his pants never wear out, but the outside of his ankles does get a little banged up - just like Tobin's did.

He's pretty good at throwing things and will use either arm for that, depending on which arm is closer to the object he picks up and throws.  We have no idea if he'll be a righty or a lefty (although my dad and I are rooting for him to be a lefty).  :)

He waves bye-bye, often just after the person we're saying goodbye to has stopped looking at him.  One evening a while back, Jeff was outside working on the Big White Van (AKA Max, Daisy, and The Yacht); and I was holding Shav on my lap and watching from the picture window in our living room.  Shav was excitedly and repeatedly waving, obviously recognizing that his daddy was out there and wanting to greet him in some manner.  So sweet.

Shav used to not like tummy time at all, but now (and remember, I first wrote this months ago) he does better with it.  He especially likes it if I or someone else gets down on the floor with him and interacts in a fun way, playing with his toys with him, rolling a ball to him, etc.  Now (meaning Oct. 6), when I lay him down on the floor, he rolls over and over and has a blast.  He especially likes it when I lay down next to him, let him roll over, then playfully (and gently, of course) roll him back to his original position while saying to him in a silly, teasing way, "You've gotta roll over!"  I first did that with Josiah when his large motor skills were slow in developing and we were trying to help his advancement.  I suppose I've done it with all of the boys at one time or another; and by seeing me be so goofy with it, they've always laughed hilariously while we do it.  More fun than a barrel of monkeys, I tell ya.

As far as food goes, Shav is developing (and expressing) more preferences than he used to.  Even without saying a word, he communicates so clearly as he sits in his highchair.  His traditional sign for "I'm not ready yet for another bite of food" is putting his left arm up in front of his mouth.  When he wants to let us know that "yuck, I do NOT want to eat that," he twists his whole body to the right and raises his chin as far as it will go so that I can't reach his mouth.  Recently he's been communicating "I want to do it MYSELF" by reaching for the spoon and wrestling with me to get it out of my grasp.  I don't mind him trying to self-feed when it comes to certain foods; but with some things (yogurt, soup, etc.), I'm not ready to give him that freedom yet because that freedom comes with a price tag:  A BIG MESS.  He does really well with finger foods, so I take advantage of that and give him lots of things that he can pick up and feed himself.

He babbles and says things like "dada" and "mama" and "gaga" and "abba."  I'm not convinced that he's assigned the right meaning to certain words though.  However, recently I was holding him while we watched Jeff drive off to work; and something that sounded for all the world like "Bye, Dada!" came out of his lips.  I'm inclined to think it was a happy accident though.  :)

If you've been reading my blog during the past year and a quarter (almost), you know that I've agonized over Shav's sleep - or lack thereof.  He has definitely been my hardest baby as far as sleep goes - no question about it.  But I am happy (thrilled!) to write that he has been doing so much better with that.  Now, instead of it being a rare occurrence for him to sleep through the night, it's normal for him to do so.  He still has nights occasionally when he wakes up (and within the past week, he had a particularly rough night; but I think there must have been a specific reason for that, some kind of pain perhaps); but overall, it is night and day between how he used to be as a sleeper and how he is now.  What a relief!!!

Here's a typical day for Shav:
~ wake up between 6:30 and 7:30
~ eat breakfast (although he's not a big eater at breakfast time...he does, however, drink a lot of milk from a sippy cup at this meal)
~ play, play, play
~ by about 10:00 AM, he's ready for his first nap, so into bed he goes (and on school days, this is when I start serious homeschooling stuff with Josiah and David)
~ he usually sleeps for several hours, and sometimes doesn't even wake up until 1:00 or 1:30
~ lunch, usually lots of finger foods - and milk, of course
~ time to play again (usually the other boys will be having quiet time/naps at this point, and sometimes Shav will be with David, because David LOVES to have his littlest brother with him during quiet time...otherwise, Shav is with me, playing in the laundry room while I load the washing machine, or in my bedroom as I fold laundry, or in the kitchen as I do dishes, etc.)
~ down for his second nap around 4:00 PM
~ up in time to eat supper with the family (he loves being part of the group and watching all the interactions around him)
~ more time to play (and sometimes get tickled by Daddy)
~ bedtime around 8:00 or 8:30 PM
It's a great schedule, and I feel really blessed by it.  The only thing that makes it a little difficult for me is that he doesn't nap when the other boys are having quiet time/naps, so I never get a complete break from all four. The only reason I mind that is because I don't really get to nap.  Most days I don't mind; but occasionally a day will come along when I am utterly exhausted, and I really have to drag myself through the afternoon.  I know when he transitions to one nap a day, I'll be able to get that simultaneous quiet time/naps that I sometimes long for; but at this point in time, I'm abundantly pleased that he still takes two naps, because that morning nap really makes homeschooling a lot easier for us.

He likes to drop things; did you notice?  :)

Shav is so special.  As the littlest one, he is so, so loved by each of us.  I think there is something in us that responds to his littleness; and all of us are a little kinder, a little more gentle, a little more tender when it comes to him.  That's not to say that when he scoots over to Tobin and grabs a toy out of his hand, a few sparks don't fly (they do).  But in spite of that, we all want to take good care of him and be a little extra careful with him.  Being the fourth child in a family just means that there are five other people to lavish love upon you, and our darling Shavi receives it graciously...

...and turns and pours it back upon all of us.

When Time Is Short...

...and words are few,

a video will have to do!

We've been having more issues with our internet connection (or rather, our lack of internet connection), so my blogging has been enduring an enforced rest.  With the few minutes of time I'm allowing myself to blog tonight before I take my weary self to bed, I simply want to record another example of the creative way Jeff cares for our boys.  This isn't the first time Jeff has figured out an out-of-the-box way to bathe--and entertain--them.

These boys are so blessed to have such a fun daddy!