18 months

Dear Timothy,

The only way to adequately describe your personality at 18 months is unrestrained. Every ounce of emotion that is in you comes out. That means that you are either screaming inconsolably or laughing uncontrollably. Thankfully, you are happy most of the time. So mostly, you laugh. A laughter so infectious, whoever hears it can't help but join in.

You have been a mama's boy your whole life. Even now, you do not like sharing me with Daddy or with your sister. Often when I give him a hug while holding you or try to get you to share my lap with her, you will push them away and make an awful pouty face. Even so, since you started walking, you are becoming more independent. You have realized how much fun it is to explore and I have almost lost you at church, at the playground, and even at the children's museum.

You are very verbal, but you don't say many words. I know that you understand almost everything I say, but with this, as with walking, I think you'll have to see the necessity of talking before your language takes off. Right now, you are pretty effective at communicating what you want with squeals, screams, and your pointer finger. Why change what works, right? You do say dog, duck, dad (which all pretty much sound like "da!"), quack (qua!), cat ("ca!"), water ("wa, wa!"), graham cracker, grapes ("ga!"), along with some others. Are you noticing a theme? Mama is the only word I can think of in which you pronounce all the syllables, and it comes out like: "MAMAMAMAMAMAMA!" Touched.

You really are a sweet little boy, though. You are free with kisses, though you tease me with hugs now. When I ask for one you just giggle and give me a mischievous smile. You love to sit in my lap and read, especially if the book is about trucks or horses. You look up at me, point, and squeal, as if to say "LOOK at this mom! Isn't the coolest thing ever!!?" In fact, you tend to think everything is the coolest thing ever. You're like your daddy in that way.

You enjoy lots of things. Your favorite game right now is to run away from me. It's especially fun if you're naked. You also still think peekaboo is hilarious, and you love to dance. It's really cute. So are you.

Really, if we're honest, you border on pretty. Your big, deep brown eyes and long dark eyelashes, your little dimples, your sweet little grin, your perfect hair. Just to look at you, my heart melts a little. I pray that you don't do that to any girls any time soon.

I love this age. You're still sweet and cuddly, your personality is burgeoning, you're not really defiant yet, you're learning to play creatively. You are such a joy, little man. In fact, maybe that's the best way to describe you. Joy personified.

Love you, little man.

Mama

My Dear Ones,

When you were newborns and it was all diapers and spit up and naptimes and sleepless nights, the task of shaping you seemed so very theoretical.  Those weary days of sacrifice were kingdom labor, to be sure.  God used them to begin beating the selfishness out of me and to show you, however small and unaware you were, that you were loved.

To struggle to show you the kind of love that God has shown me is, I believe, one of the primary tasks of parenting.  I hope that as I labor to show you love and grace whether you're wonderful or stubborn, hilarious or disrespectful, sweet or exasperating, perceptive or just plain foolish, that your young hearts will begin to grasp what it is to be loved by your Savior. 

But as you have grown, it has become clear that what I have to teach you is equally as important.  Oh, sweet ones, we have so much to learn together.  I will most likely teach you to read, to tie your shoes, to turn off the lights when you leave a room (though that last one might be difficult, as I have yet to master it myself).  I want you to be full of character, full of scripture, full of wisdom.  But of all the lessons I have to teach you, my dears, there are three things I want you to remember.  I hope that all of the other spiritual instruction will find its root in these three things.
  
I pray, my sweet children, that you would know that God is glorious.  I believe that you're made to discover this.  You naturally see wonder in green shoots pushing up through the ground in the spring, the blooming of daisies in the summer, the brilliant colors of autumn, the falling of the first snow as the year comes to a close. And your response to every wonder is "Why? Why, Mommy?" I believe that God wired you to ask this question. It's as if you're begging, Mommy, will you point me to God? Will you open this beautiful world to me? Will you explain to me the wonders of my Creator?  I pray that the Lord would grant me the eyes to see that beauty myself and also the patience to answer your questions with, "Yes little one, your God is wonderful, beautiful and creative."

But not only that, I want you to know that God is good, He loves you, and He proved it by sending Jesus to rescue you.  It's good news, sweet ones.  The great and marvelous Creator loves you, makes you new, cloaks you in his grace.  And it's because of Jesus.  I pray every night that our Lord would draw you into this truth, show you its beauty, and so ingrain it on your heart that it becomes a part of you.  I pray that more and more, I hear your little voices repeating this great truth as you did, Ava, a few nights ago.  "God loves me even when I do bad things."  Yes, little ones, if you are His children, and I pray you will be, your very lives will be covered by his grace.

Lastly, I want you to see that you need Him. As sweet as you are, as hard as you try, you will always, always, need Jesus. You cannot be perfect, but He already has been for you.  He gives you what you could never earn--forgiveness and favor bought by the blood of Jesus.  It doesn't mean that you are free to do whatever you want, my loves.  That grace will set you free to new life and will give you a new heart.  He will guide you to change and grow by his Spirit, but this process is lifelong, and you will always need his grace.  I pray that as we discipline you, you will see not that you need to be better, but that you need Him. 

It's a little scary, thinking that someone who grasps these truths as imperfectly as I do could be entrusted with imparting them to you.  But I believe that God ordains imperfect vessels to accomplish his purposes in the lives of ones so precious as you.  So we'll learn his grace together when you fight with one another, when I lose my patience, when this house is less than a vision of peace.  He will remind us of His gospel, and we will preach it to each other.  May we be faithful.

I love you, dear ones.  More than you can know.

Mama

Ballet

Today was Ava's first ballet class.  She's been looking forward to it for several months.  I honestly don't know which one of us was more excited.  I couldn't wait to see her dancing and twirling and acting every inch the little girl. If one could die of cuteness...

She was having so much fun, not least because she is taking the class with her buddy Ava Lee.  Daniel and I got to sit in and watch, and noticed that Ava didn't seem to keen on doing what the teacher said.  At times she seemed unsure; at one point she took off and began to dance her own little dance. 

On the way to lunch after class, Daniel gently reminded her, "You need to do what the teacher tells you to do, Ava." And Ava sweetly replied, "I did what the music told me to do! What the music told me to do!"

Have I mentioned lately how much I love that girl?

A short video:

The Ava's, looking as cute as ever.  :)

 Class

Hamming for the camera after class:

Apple Picking

Fun in the Fountains

September in Chicago is glorious. The temperature is perfect, the breeze is cool, everything is green. Beautiful.

This past Sunday was the first break in the summer heat (which--can we be honest--isn't very substantial in Chicago anyway); we loaded up the kids after church and went to Lincoln Park Zoo in the city.

Our first stop at the zoo had to the bathrooms (for the sake of the newly potty-trained toddler and the pregnant mother), which happened to be by the children's zoo, which happened to contain fountains. I took Ava to the bathroom, and returned to find Daniel laughing as a fountain squirted my inquisitive son in the face. Of course, Ava was not to be left out, so even though it wasn't quite warm enough for me to think this activity a great idea and they certainly weren't dressed for it, we let them be kids. They enjoyed it. And we spent rest of the afternoon trying to let their jeans dry out.

Why hello...

...sorely neglected blog.

It's been a while. Why? I'm tired. I spend all day chasing two toddlers. They are really fast at walking, climbing, and generally getting into mischief. I collapse on the couch during the eldest's quiet time and as soon as I finish chores at night. I have nothing left.

That would be enough, but see, this is the state I'm in:


Just found out I'm having another baby girl. Love her already. Super excited. Feeling her move all the time. But, said energy level is even lower than usual and free time is pretty much non-existent.

So that's my excuse.

Finally.

He took his first steps about two months ago. He's been experimenting when he darn well feels like it since then. If we tried to make him walk, he'd scream and cry. But in the last week or so, and particularly in the last couple of days, he's gotten bold. Decided that bipedalism isn't so bad after all. Only took 16 months.

Happy Birthday Grandpa Roy!

We went to Missouri for the weekend to celebrate the 80th birthday of Daniel's Grandpa Roy. He told Daniel this weekend that he felt young until he turned 80; "Now I feel old!" He doesn't seem that way to us. He's left a legacy of faith for his entire family. I'm very grateful to him. Daniel's faith is, in part, the result of the faith of this man. Here's a picture (not from this weekend unfortunately! I didn't take many pictures.)

Also from the weekend:

Tim's first 4 wheeler ride (he was quite amused).

And a small photo shoot in the porch swing with the two little ones.

On Having a Child and Being a Child.

About a week ago, I was standing in the kitchen when I felt a faint tap on my rear end. I turned to find my three year old standing there with a spoon, sporting a mischievous grin.

"Ava, did you just spank me?" I asked in disbelief.

"Yeah," she replied, unconcerned.

"Why?" I demanded.

"Because I love you!" came the reply.

Never mind that I most often tell her that I love her even though I am spanking her. She is right. I discipline her because I love her. Because I see the natural inclination of her heart, I cannot leave her to herself. God has entrusted to her to me to help illuminate her sin, to show her her heart, to call her to repentance, to remind her of (and model for her) the grace of God, and to pray earnestly that God would change her heart and grant her new birth. As precious as she is and as much good as I see in her, she is still fallen and in need of a Savior. It would not be loving of me to leave her without discipline and instruction. Because I love her, I seek her good, even when it's painful for both of us.

I feel privileged to have been called to this task. Every day, God is using me to teach her about Him and about herself. He is using me to call her unto himself. As I have begun to participate in this process though, God has impressed upon me the extent to which He is parenting me. He has given me a glimpse into His Father's heart for me, a foolish and rebellious child. Consider Hebrews 12:

³ Consider him who endured from sinners such hostility against himself, so that you may not grow weary or fainthearted. ⁴ In your struggle against sin you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding your blood. ⁵ And have you forgotten the exhortation that addresses you as sons?

"My son, do not regard lightly the discipline of the Lord,
nor be weary when reproved by him.
⁶ For the Lord disciplines the one he loves,
and chastises every son whom he receives."

⁷ It is for discipline that you have to endure. God is treating you as sons. For what son is there whom his father does not discipline? ⁸ If you are left without discipline, in which all have participated, then you are illegitimate children and not sons. ⁹ Besides this, we have had earthly fathers who disciplined us and we respected them. Shall we not much more be subject to the Father of spirits and live? ¹⁰ For they disciplined us for a short time as it seemed best to them, but he disciplines us for our good, that we may share his holiness. ¹¹ For the moment all discipline seems painful rather than pleasant, but later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it.

This has been a year of discipline. Simply having two kids pulling at my pant legs at all hours would have been enough to reveal much of the wickedness that still remains in my heart, but the difficulty of this season has gone far deeper than that. Life has been hard spiritually and emotionally. But the Lord has brought me to the point that I believe in my soul that as painful as this year has been (and it has been), that God has being using it all for my good and for his glory. He has been using it to show me the things that I love and rely on instead of Him. He is showing me my heart, illuminating my sin, calling me to repentance, cloaking me in His grace. Just like I do (albeit imperfectly) for Ava. Strangely enough, these trials are preaching to me the truth that I am His child. He loves me too much to leave me in the sin that seeks to kill and destroy; He is leading me to Himself and into joy. Because He's a good Dad.

15 months

Sometimes I look at you and think that you are still so little--so dependent on me, so cuddly. You still look like a baby. But then other times, when I see new babies that are tinier than you ever were, I'm struck by how grown up you seem.

This is a fun age. You still love me with an intensity only matched by your Daddy's love for me, though he has more restraint. You are very sweet; you giggle all the time, you cuddle into my neck, you climb up and sit in my lap. Not much defiance has surfaced thus far, though you have been known to try to push your sister out of my lap. You also have a penchant for yelling at me when you want something; while not shrill, it is piercing. You are nothing if not passionate.

Your second love is food. Nothing can induce said screams like me not feeding you quickly enough for your liking. We were recently at a restaurant, and the menu amused you to no end. You kept pointing at each picture, giggling, and squealing. When the waitress came, you attempted to order a margarita.

You still have very few words, really. You use "da" for a lot, but you seem to know it is specifically used for Daddy. You call me Mama when you want something (mostly food). Still, you are very expressive and communicative. And when you can't communicate what it is you want, you yell that piercing yell that makes Mama move at warp speed, offering crackers, water, and M&Ms; whatever it takes to make it stop. You also let us know where you want to go by pointing and grunting. It's pretty effective.

Perhaps this is why you refuse to walk. You are certainly strong enough and have enough balance to stand ad infinitum, but whenever Daddy tries to make you walk by holding your hands and guiding you across the room, you scream bloody murder. You weigh over 25 lbs. Mama's tired of carrying you all the time. It's time already.

But other than the fact that you don't walk and you don't talk, you're really smart. You seem to have a gift for putting things together. I'm sure that pretty soon we'll see the inverse of that, and you'll start taking things apart. You also really enjoy pretend play. Your sister has taught you to pretend to eat and to pretend to accept pretend objects. I play along too, which amuses you greatly.

Oh, how I love having you in my life, little man. You find so much joy in everything and you give so much joy to so many people (excepting the nursery workers and your doctor, who have yet to see your sweet side). I love you so much.

Mama