I started this post on Ash Wednesday. I'd just been to service with my two sons and after we returned home, marked with our sin and repentance, I really had something to say.
Don't ask me what it was now; it's Easter Sunday and Ash Wednesday was a long time ago. I'm sure it was profound though. All lost thoughts seem to be tinged with profundity. Profundity is probably a shade of chartreuse. Provided that's the green one. I always get chartreuse and vermillion confused.
All that stuck with me was this line from Jesus, I Will Ponder Now - "may I give you love for love."
I find that Holy Week is often a time of pondering for me. I try to take time to meditate specifically on the Passion on Good Friday. I like cold parks and solitude. I didn't find it this year. Solitude is a rarity for me at the moment. The pondering found me and once again I tried to really understand the depth, the width, the height of the sacrifice that God made in sending Jesus to die the most horrendous death, abandoned, alone, covered in the filth and stench of eons of sin. I still can't comprehend it. I can imagine the happenings, I know them so well and not enough. I can picture faces and expressions, but they are stapled together fragments from paintings and pictures I've seen across the years. I still feel anger toward Peter, forsaking his Saviour. I revile Judas even as I pity him. I weep with the Marys at the foot of the cross.
It's a strange thing, though, coming at this from a hindsight perspective. I know what happens next. The despair and confusion that all of Jesus' followers were plunged into, that I cannot fathom. It's as far removed from me as petticoats. It's something that happened, but I know now so well that that then just doesn't compute fully. I understand that it happened, but the overwhelming joy and hope that has come from Jesus' resurrection on Easter has so pervaded my thinking, my being that I just can't fully understand Holy Week.
I get caught up in the daily humdrum. It's full of trials and difficulties, sure. But that's not the same thing.
And even now, living as I do, a life where I know that my Redeemer lives and because He lives I too shall live, I still struggle and fight and wrestle with my own ridiculousness. My own selfishness. My own sin. I try to take on my struggles by myself. I fall flat a lot.
I do not give love for love. I give struggle and frustration and all sorts and get back love. I fail and fight and flee and I am given love. I try to love and get distracted and still I am given love. The struggle of sanctification can be boiled down to trying to give love for love. It is the eternal pursuit.
And still I am made free by the blood of the Lamb, shed for me.
This makes no sense, I realise that. I guess when it comes down to it, all I'm trying to say is: "Blessed Easter". So,
Blessed Easter.
Jesus, I Will Ponder Now - Sigismund von Birken
Jesus, I will ponder now
On your holy Passion;
With your Spirit me endow
For such meditation.
Grant that I in love and faith
May the image cherish
Of your suffering, pain, and death
That I may not perish.
Make me see your great distress,
Anguish, and affliction,
Bonds and stripes and wretchedness
And your crucifixion;
Make me see how scourge and rod,
Spear and nails did wound you,
How you died for those, O God,
Who with thorns had crowned you.
Yet, O Lord, not thus alone
Make me see your Passion;
But its cause to me make known
And its termination.
For I also and my sin
Brought your deep affliction;
This the shameful cause has been
Of your crucifixion.
If my sins give me alarm
And my conscience grieve me,
Let your cross my fear disarm,
Peace and pardon give me.
Grant that I may trust in you
And your holy Passion;
If his Son forgives anew,
God must have compassion.
Jesus, Lord, my heart renew,
Let me bear my crosses,
Learning humbleness from you,
Peace despite my losses.
May I give you love for love!
Hear me, O my Savior,
That I may in heaven above
Sing your praise forever.
Sunday, March 31, 2013
Tuesday, February 5, 2013
Today I Taught My Son to Use a Pitchfork, and other stories
Warning: this post contains nudity. Parental guidance is recommended.
You know that thing where your child is playing nicely with his plastic animals? Where they stomp around and eat the carpet grass and stack on top of each other? And then you get the video camera and set it up sneakily only to catch the animals being run over by a tractor and spread about the room? All in all it's a shocking hilarious moment which you intend to replay many times until you realize that you accidentally bumped the dial and it never actually recorded.
It seems like life is full of all of these funny moments that are completely unexpected. I hope you need a laugh (and I hope you get a laugh) from the following:
Smooth Operator
A few months ago now, Tall got into the hand lotion. This is not uncommon. He likes to do what Mom and Dad do and slaps his hands together and acts all grown up. That day, however, he dropped it on the floor and started to smear it into the floorboards at the end of his parents bed. He proceeded to walk backwards and forwards through it, slipping and sliding and giggling with glee. This is also the day that I learned that trying to clean floorboards just makes them slipperier. Soap. Vinegar. Rubbing. Maybe I should have tried sand?
Lately when he's had the opportunity, he's taken a bit of lotion and methodically rubbed it onto his nose. I think we go to the beach too much.
Bite Me
Around that time (18 months of age or so), Tall often kissed his brother with his mouth open. He's learned to close it now. But then it was this gaping maw that was pressed (sometimes with a bit of force) against some part of a loved one's head. One day after he "kissed" his brother and his brother started to cry, I saw little marks on Small's nose.
"Tall," I said, "You cannot bite your brother's nose."
"Nose." He agreed sticking both index fingers deeply up his nostrils.
Me Time
There's nothing like a bit of me time, right? One Saturday afternoon, Adrian took Tall to the back yard, Small was napping and Mommy had a wee bit of time for a relaxing bath and a chance to shave her legs. I was well set up, glass of water (I'm breastfeeding here!), book and for some reason, I'd grabbed the phone. This turned out to be a good thing as about thirty-three seconds into the bath, someone knocked on the door. I grabbed the phone and called Adrian's cell (mobile) and muttered "there's someone at the door." I decided to start shaving right away and just as I was nearing the finish of the first leg, Small started screaming. You know the one, the "I'm-the-hungriest-that-I've-ever-been-please-feed-me-now-or-I-will-somehow-get-louder-still". I took my last swipe with the razor, grabbed my towel and fastened it as I ran. As I got to the crib (cot), my towel slipped and out of the corner of my eye, I saw the woman who must have been at the door pass by the quite open window. I grabbed the child and hid in the closet, feeding him and hoping Adrian would come in so I'd know the coast was clear.
Three's Company
We had company in January and one day they were all across the street. Tall and I were grubby, so I took the opportunity to clean up. Purposely not locking the front door so the company could get back in, I instead firmly closed my bedroom door and brought Tall into our en suite shower with me. Small was napping.
After the shower, I towelled Tall off, noting that I'd only brought one towel into the bathroom. Small started crying, so I padded out to the crib in the corner of our room. Tall zoomed along beside me wrapped in the towel and noticed the open door (what was that now?) took off. I saw the open door. How was the door open? Apparently the lock needs an even firmer firm close and a wind gust had opened it. I stood stock still in the room, knowing that Tall a) loves outside, b)can open the front door, c)the front door opens to the road, d)he was naked, and e) I was naked.
What do you do? Make a skyclad dash through the house hoping the company's not home? As I made to tear after him, I heard a sound. One of the company's children was home. "Can you grab Tall?" I bellowed anxiously, struggling to put on any and all clothing close to me.
It's All About the Delivery
Small has these great skills of needing people when it is most awkward or inopportune. He also likes to get whingy and cryish in the evening. Many babies do. He also gets hyper at the same time, so he'll either cry or be very happy. I looked down at him, and thinking of my aching back said, "you know, you could have stayed in a week longer and turned around and come out the right way." He laughed. I picked him up and started telling him his birth story. This is an honest, unretouched account of part of our conversation:
Mommy: It felt like I was going to break in half
Small: [chortles]
Mommy: It was the worst pain I've ever experienced.
Small: [squeal of delight]
Mommy: And there was an explosion and I was quite concerned. What happened?
Small: [giggles with glee]
Silence Is Golden?
Yesterday morning, we woke up early as usual to a Tall who wanted to get going. Often he takes a quick run around the house after having a cuddle in bed with us and we get up a couple of minutes later. That morning he was unusally quiet. I'm on the high alert about that. "Honey," I said to Adrian, "can you just check on him? He's awfully quiet." From the other room we hear Tall make an excited noise. "He's alright," says Adrian, "he's making noise again." Tall reentered our room and handed his father his object of delight. It was the arm of my glasses, snapped clean off.
Today I Taught My Son to Use a Pitchfork
(My husband assured me after reading this that what we have is in fact a "garden fork" which is nowhere near as pointy as a pitchfork, but I think "pitchfork" sounds cooler. But Tall was always supervised, so stop worrying.)
Yesterday evening the pitchfork made it out of the shed via a very helpful Tall, but it didn't make it back in. Today when we were playing outside, Tall was fascinated with it and kept pushing it around and making tractor noises. I suppose this says good things for his imagination, that he was using it as a combine (cultivator), but I didn't feel that it was a good plan to be pushing pointing spikes about the place. Instead we took to aerating soil patches, using it like a shovel. It was so cute the way he put his little foot up on it, believing that he was pushing it into the ground while I pushed hard down with my hands on the handle.
I'm a little tired now. We dug for a couple hours over the day. Had we had a haystack, we probably would have dug into that, but that perhaps would have been too much like work for Tall and not enough like destruction.
I hope you've had a laugh at my expense. If not, you may want to get to the doctor and get your funny bone checked out, or you could watch or read one of the following:
Frasier, Season 4, Episode 18 "Ham Radio"; Season 5, Episode 14 - The Ski Lodge
Corner Gas, Season 4, Episode 15 "Lacey Borrows"
Miranda, Series 1, Episode 3, "Job"
Noises Off
The last chapter of Bridget Jones, The Edge of Reason
Anything by Dave Barry
The Luck of the Bodkins by PG Wodehouse
The Cowboy Way
You know that thing where your child is playing nicely with his plastic animals? Where they stomp around and eat the carpet grass and stack on top of each other? And then you get the video camera and set it up sneakily only to catch the animals being run over by a tractor and spread about the room? All in all it's a shocking hilarious moment which you intend to replay many times until you realize that you accidentally bumped the dial and it never actually recorded.
It seems like life is full of all of these funny moments that are completely unexpected. I hope you need a laugh (and I hope you get a laugh) from the following:
Smooth Operator
A few months ago now, Tall got into the hand lotion. This is not uncommon. He likes to do what Mom and Dad do and slaps his hands together and acts all grown up. That day, however, he dropped it on the floor and started to smear it into the floorboards at the end of his parents bed. He proceeded to walk backwards and forwards through it, slipping and sliding and giggling with glee. This is also the day that I learned that trying to clean floorboards just makes them slipperier. Soap. Vinegar. Rubbing. Maybe I should have tried sand?
Lately when he's had the opportunity, he's taken a bit of lotion and methodically rubbed it onto his nose. I think we go to the beach too much.
Bite Me
Around that time (18 months of age or so), Tall often kissed his brother with his mouth open. He's learned to close it now. But then it was this gaping maw that was pressed (sometimes with a bit of force) against some part of a loved one's head. One day after he "kissed" his brother and his brother started to cry, I saw little marks on Small's nose.
"Tall," I said, "You cannot bite your brother's nose."
"Nose." He agreed sticking both index fingers deeply up his nostrils.
Me Time
There's nothing like a bit of me time, right? One Saturday afternoon, Adrian took Tall to the back yard, Small was napping and Mommy had a wee bit of time for a relaxing bath and a chance to shave her legs. I was well set up, glass of water (I'm breastfeeding here!), book and for some reason, I'd grabbed the phone. This turned out to be a good thing as about thirty-three seconds into the bath, someone knocked on the door. I grabbed the phone and called Adrian's cell (mobile) and muttered "there's someone at the door." I decided to start shaving right away and just as I was nearing the finish of the first leg, Small started screaming. You know the one, the "I'm-the-hungriest-that-I've-ever-been-please-feed-me-now-or-I-will-somehow-get-louder-still". I took my last swipe with the razor, grabbed my towel and fastened it as I ran. As I got to the crib (cot), my towel slipped and out of the corner of my eye, I saw the woman who must have been at the door pass by the quite open window. I grabbed the child and hid in the closet, feeding him and hoping Adrian would come in so I'd know the coast was clear.
Three's Company
We had company in January and one day they were all across the street. Tall and I were grubby, so I took the opportunity to clean up. Purposely not locking the front door so the company could get back in, I instead firmly closed my bedroom door and brought Tall into our en suite shower with me. Small was napping.
After the shower, I towelled Tall off, noting that I'd only brought one towel into the bathroom. Small started crying, so I padded out to the crib in the corner of our room. Tall zoomed along beside me wrapped in the towel and noticed the open door (what was that now?) took off. I saw the open door. How was the door open? Apparently the lock needs an even firmer firm close and a wind gust had opened it. I stood stock still in the room, knowing that Tall a) loves outside, b)can open the front door, c)the front door opens to the road, d)he was naked, and e) I was naked.
What do you do? Make a skyclad dash through the house hoping the company's not home? As I made to tear after him, I heard a sound. One of the company's children was home. "Can you grab Tall?" I bellowed anxiously, struggling to put on any and all clothing close to me.
It's All About the Delivery
Small has these great skills of needing people when it is most awkward or inopportune. He also likes to get whingy and cryish in the evening. Many babies do. He also gets hyper at the same time, so he'll either cry or be very happy. I looked down at him, and thinking of my aching back said, "you know, you could have stayed in a week longer and turned around and come out the right way." He laughed. I picked him up and started telling him his birth story. This is an honest, unretouched account of part of our conversation:
Mommy: It felt like I was going to break in half
Small: [chortles]
Mommy: It was the worst pain I've ever experienced.
Small: [squeal of delight]
Mommy: And there was an explosion and I was quite concerned. What happened?
Small: [giggles with glee]
Silence Is Golden?
Yesterday morning, we woke up early as usual to a Tall who wanted to get going. Often he takes a quick run around the house after having a cuddle in bed with us and we get up a couple of minutes later. That morning he was unusally quiet. I'm on the high alert about that. "Honey," I said to Adrian, "can you just check on him? He's awfully quiet." From the other room we hear Tall make an excited noise. "He's alright," says Adrian, "he's making noise again." Tall reentered our room and handed his father his object of delight. It was the arm of my glasses, snapped clean off.
Today I Taught My Son to Use a Pitchfork
(My husband assured me after reading this that what we have is in fact a "garden fork" which is nowhere near as pointy as a pitchfork, but I think "pitchfork" sounds cooler. But Tall was always supervised, so stop worrying.)
Yesterday evening the pitchfork made it out of the shed via a very helpful Tall, but it didn't make it back in. Today when we were playing outside, Tall was fascinated with it and kept pushing it around and making tractor noises. I suppose this says good things for his imagination, that he was using it as a combine (cultivator), but I didn't feel that it was a good plan to be pushing pointing spikes about the place. Instead we took to aerating soil patches, using it like a shovel. It was so cute the way he put his little foot up on it, believing that he was pushing it into the ground while I pushed hard down with my hands on the handle.
I'm a little tired now. We dug for a couple hours over the day. Had we had a haystack, we probably would have dug into that, but that perhaps would have been too much like work for Tall and not enough like destruction.
I hope you've had a laugh at my expense. If not, you may want to get to the doctor and get your funny bone checked out, or you could watch or read one of the following:
Frasier, Season 4, Episode 18 "Ham Radio"; Season 5, Episode 14 - The Ski Lodge
Corner Gas, Season 4, Episode 15 "Lacey Borrows"
Miranda, Series 1, Episode 3, "Job"
Noises Off
The last chapter of Bridget Jones, The Edge of Reason
Anything by Dave Barry
The Luck of the Bodkins by PG Wodehouse
The Cowboy Way
Monday, January 21, 2013
Hmm
It is a truth universally acknowledged that if you start an article with the phrase "it is a truth universally acknowledged that..." you automatically lend yourself brilliance with an homage to a great piece of English literature, namely Bubs and Lola Hit the Slots.
And yet, sometimes you read an article and it sticks with you anyway. I read one the other day about a woman's drive to not succumb to consumerism and to spend a year free from spending on her son. A call back to the old days of hand-me-downs, clothing swaps and toys made from whatever. Sure, I get it. We spend a lot on children and all the needs and new needs that come a long every few minutes. I read a cookbook today that told me in no uncertain terms that a kitchen need for a baby is bottles, even if one breastfeeds. It is a NEED. Never mind the fact that I'm breastfeeding my second child and have never expressed once to store all this milk in bottles.
Sure, I can get behind not spending money like it's an Olympic sport. Although, it's about time there was an Olympic sport for the rest of us. Something good that you could do while sitting. Battle Royale Checkers or something. Internet shopping certainly drives forward the need to consume. "People who looked at this also bought --" Oh, did they? Do I need that to be a caring parent? A good parent? Am I giving my child the best start in every possible way? We want to do what's right by our children, even though what's right is often putting down the mouse and playing hide and seek or chasey or let's see how many things we can pull out of the pantry in 10 minutes - oh wait, that one's played while parents AREN'T looking. I remember now.
So we shouldn't be spending, spending, spending on kids, because childhood is time of imagination and energy.
But should we be spending money on we adults? If children can get away happily wearing hand-me-downs and playing with boxes, do we need the newest iWhatevers and closets full of this seasons' colours? If we are harkening back to a simpler day, why not get clothes that are functional and good quality and spend our time delving into the classics (like Bubs and Lola Brine Some Pickles) and going for long walks and exploring the world around us instead of purchasing the world from a screen?
Why must we have convenience and consumerism? Are we so guided by Adam Smith's invisble hand that we blindly buy and store and hoard? Why not make? Why not wait? Whatever happened to delayed gratification?
That's my two cents. Unless there's a high demand, and then it's my $5.
And yet, sometimes you read an article and it sticks with you anyway. I read one the other day about a woman's drive to not succumb to consumerism and to spend a year free from spending on her son. A call back to the old days of hand-me-downs, clothing swaps and toys made from whatever. Sure, I get it. We spend a lot on children and all the needs and new needs that come a long every few minutes. I read a cookbook today that told me in no uncertain terms that a kitchen need for a baby is bottles, even if one breastfeeds. It is a NEED. Never mind the fact that I'm breastfeeding my second child and have never expressed once to store all this milk in bottles.
Sure, I can get behind not spending money like it's an Olympic sport. Although, it's about time there was an Olympic sport for the rest of us. Something good that you could do while sitting. Battle Royale Checkers or something. Internet shopping certainly drives forward the need to consume. "People who looked at this also bought --" Oh, did they? Do I need that to be a caring parent? A good parent? Am I giving my child the best start in every possible way? We want to do what's right by our children, even though what's right is often putting down the mouse and playing hide and seek or chasey or let's see how many things we can pull out of the pantry in 10 minutes - oh wait, that one's played while parents AREN'T looking. I remember now.
So we shouldn't be spending, spending, spending on kids, because childhood is time of imagination and energy.
But should we be spending money on we adults? If children can get away happily wearing hand-me-downs and playing with boxes, do we need the newest iWhatevers and closets full of this seasons' colours? If we are harkening back to a simpler day, why not get clothes that are functional and good quality and spend our time delving into the classics (like Bubs and Lola Brine Some Pickles) and going for long walks and exploring the world around us instead of purchasing the world from a screen?
Why must we have convenience and consumerism? Are we so guided by Adam Smith's invisble hand that we blindly buy and store and hoard? Why not make? Why not wait? Whatever happened to delayed gratification?
That's my two cents. Unless there's a high demand, and then it's my $5.
Friday, December 14, 2012
The Adventures of Tall and Small
Oh the places they'll go! Oh, the things they already get up to!
Once upon a time there were two little boys, Tall and Small. Tall was about 20 months old, while Small was only three. Together they get up to many hijinks, although whether Small is a consenting participant remains to be seen.
Tall can be found scaling chairs and tables, trying to reach the sky. Why? Probably for the view as was evidenced by his climb up a stepladder in the middle of a room. He stood atop his red plastic perch and proudly surveyed all that surrounded him. Everything looks better two feet higher up.
Tall experiments with what exactly will fit into a VCR (two dvds and a remote) and learns the best way to turn things on. He is driven to use things in the manner of his parents and may be found with a sharp knife in one hand and a zucchini in the other trying to recreate what his mother just did (and then turned her back, the silly woman, giving an ample three seconds for a knife to be absconded). He will turn the vacuum cleaner on merely for the joy of pressing the button, explore the functions of the stereo, pull out plants by the stem to investigate the roots, page through any book within (and some that were without) reach.
Small is mainly dragged along for the ride. Tall attempts to carry him or roll him on the floor. On one occasion Mom (more commonly referred to as "Da") entered a room to find Tall sitting on Small's chest. At this point "Da" made a noise - a high pitched oddly squeaky noise that indicated "get-off-of-him-now-I-never-want-to-see-that-again-I-think-I-am-going-insane-is-he-okay".
Small does his best to join the shenanigans, rolling over at two months (consistently). "Da" wonders how long it will be 'til he scoots about the house as she sees him push off the floor in a hands free motion ("the seal").
Tall continues to make his presence known, removing books on at a time from the same library shelf and bringing them to the kindhearted librarian. He enjoys chasey and doesn't have fear, as is evidenced by the time that he decided to cross the road alone. "Da" was not appreciative, but caught him quickly and was thankful that it was not a busy road.
Tall helps with the shopping, adding to carts that which he feels is necessary. He has a big call in life for long-life milk, cereal and bread - really anything that is on the lower shelves. He empties drawers and containers and splashes in the sink. The hose really is a top-notch invention in the humble opinion of Tall.
Tall loves Small. He hugs him and pats him (sometimes hard). Tall enjoys a cup of coffee (if ever he sees one unattended, it tends to get sipped. They tend to not be unattended anymore). Tall has a long reach and can get to everything now, it seems.
Sometimes Tall shows his maturity by putting away all of the crayons, closing the container, putting it back in the cupboard and putting away his colouring book. Other times he tries to feed Small, even once when Small lay on the floor, so Tall threw a cherry tomato at him. Tall also tries to feed his parents. He likes to share.
Small works on using a fist and seeing what he can grab. He often snags hearts, but he uses his smiles for those. He bellows loudly while held to catch attention so he can smile brightly into the face nearest.
When walking with Small and "Da", Tall likes to point out things along the way: trees and trucks, dogs and children. He waves to strangers and makes them smile. He throws bread to ducks and has been stung by an ant. His legs are scuffed from running too fast while distracted by everything. He has mastered climbing "Da" and can now be piggybacked. He leans down for a kiss and a giggle while riding on shoulders.
Oh, the adventures of Small and Tall are exciting everyday, even as at the moment Small claws his own face trying to determine what's what. He's drawn blood.
What shall they do next?
Once upon a time there were two little boys, Tall and Small. Tall was about 20 months old, while Small was only three. Together they get up to many hijinks, although whether Small is a consenting participant remains to be seen.
Tall can be found scaling chairs and tables, trying to reach the sky. Why? Probably for the view as was evidenced by his climb up a stepladder in the middle of a room. He stood atop his red plastic perch and proudly surveyed all that surrounded him. Everything looks better two feet higher up.
Tall experiments with what exactly will fit into a VCR (two dvds and a remote) and learns the best way to turn things on. He is driven to use things in the manner of his parents and may be found with a sharp knife in one hand and a zucchini in the other trying to recreate what his mother just did (and then turned her back, the silly woman, giving an ample three seconds for a knife to be absconded). He will turn the vacuum cleaner on merely for the joy of pressing the button, explore the functions of the stereo, pull out plants by the stem to investigate the roots, page through any book within (and some that were without) reach.
Small is mainly dragged along for the ride. Tall attempts to carry him or roll him on the floor. On one occasion Mom (more commonly referred to as "Da") entered a room to find Tall sitting on Small's chest. At this point "Da" made a noise - a high pitched oddly squeaky noise that indicated "get-off-of-him-now-I-never-want-to-see-that-again-I-think-I-am-going-insane-is-he-okay".
Small does his best to join the shenanigans, rolling over at two months (consistently). "Da" wonders how long it will be 'til he scoots about the house as she sees him push off the floor in a hands free motion ("the seal").
Tall continues to make his presence known, removing books on at a time from the same library shelf and bringing them to the kindhearted librarian. He enjoys chasey and doesn't have fear, as is evidenced by the time that he decided to cross the road alone. "Da" was not appreciative, but caught him quickly and was thankful that it was not a busy road.
Tall helps with the shopping, adding to carts that which he feels is necessary. He has a big call in life for long-life milk, cereal and bread - really anything that is on the lower shelves. He empties drawers and containers and splashes in the sink. The hose really is a top-notch invention in the humble opinion of Tall.
Tall loves Small. He hugs him and pats him (sometimes hard). Tall enjoys a cup of coffee (if ever he sees one unattended, it tends to get sipped. They tend to not be unattended anymore). Tall has a long reach and can get to everything now, it seems.
Sometimes Tall shows his maturity by putting away all of the crayons, closing the container, putting it back in the cupboard and putting away his colouring book. Other times he tries to feed Small, even once when Small lay on the floor, so Tall threw a cherry tomato at him. Tall also tries to feed his parents. He likes to share.
Small works on using a fist and seeing what he can grab. He often snags hearts, but he uses his smiles for those. He bellows loudly while held to catch attention so he can smile brightly into the face nearest.
When walking with Small and "Da", Tall likes to point out things along the way: trees and trucks, dogs and children. He waves to strangers and makes them smile. He throws bread to ducks and has been stung by an ant. His legs are scuffed from running too fast while distracted by everything. He has mastered climbing "Da" and can now be piggybacked. He leans down for a kiss and a giggle while riding on shoulders.
Oh, the adventures of Small and Tall are exciting everyday, even as at the moment Small claws his own face trying to determine what's what. He's drawn blood.
What shall they do next?
Thursday, December 6, 2012
The Resurrection and the Life
I've been meaning to post for awhile, but I've reached that level of paralysis from too many things to do. When there's just too much to increase your efficiency, everything but essentials stall. Or is it just me?
My sons have been very cute lately. You will hear about all of their adventures soon, I think. That's not what I want to write about today though.
My Grandma passed on to glory recently. I've been taking comfort in this passage and thought that I would share it with you:
Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die."
My sons have been very cute lately. You will hear about all of their adventures soon, I think. That's not what I want to write about today though.
My Grandma passed on to glory recently. I've been taking comfort in this passage and thought that I would share it with you:
Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die."
John 11:25-26
That's better than anything than I can write and the best comfort I have.
Thursday, November 8, 2012
Tooth Ache/Sicko
There are days when you think, "it would be so nice to just sit and watch movies today." Perhaps it is a rainy day or you yourself are just under the weather, but it would be nice to not get up to much.
When you have a toddler, this sort of thinking doesn't go very far. It gets interrupted by "oh dear, not that! How did you even get that? Put him down! Just breathe, woman, you can do this, let's go outside!" You also notice how your internal dialogue has become an external one again. Wonder what Vygotsky would say to that!
So these days of idle slothfulness just don't happen. Or do they?
This past week, my two beautiful boys and I have been quite sick with a miserable head cold (Adrian has been amazing taking care of us when he can and still getting his work done.). It's the kind where sleep doesn't happen well, though you need it. It's the kind where the act of breathing feels like flames and bleeding on one's throat.
On top of this, our eldest (herinafter Bigfella) has been pushing through two molars (last count, three prongs of one, one prong of the other are through) as well as dealing with a mild reaction to an immunization. For a couple of days, all the poor kid wanted to do was sit and watch movies while cuddled up on my lap. While I'm all for the cuddling, the fact that he wanted to sit and do nothing was heart-rending. Seeing my active, happy little boy so uncomfortable and busted was bad. I found myself longing for a bit of his mischief. Pull the books down! I wanted to say. I missed his energy and his excitement. It hurt to see him so miserable and whingy. And the whinging did get to extreme levels. Atomic, you might say.
And while my antibodies are helping the younger boy (herinafter Littlefella) - and how do they do that anyway? How can my antibodies give him more immunization than they give me? - he was still coughing and grumpier than usual.
There were two yelling, upset, snuffling, grumpy boys. And when Bigfella started feeling better we had to have another conversation: Just because you're feeling bad, doesn't mean you should act bad. (Though come to think of it, I probably said be. Just another example of how I'm a bad mother. ;) )
It's hard being sick, but it's harder being sick when you don't get to stop and rest because people are depending on you. It's harder watching your kids in pain, and it's terrible when one feels grumpy at grumpiness. It's harder when the youngest is growthspurting too!
There was a time when Bigfella was 9 months old when he got hit by a really painful teething bout and we couldn't get anything into him - not even water for over 8 hours on a really hot day. We ended up using a medicine syringe to shoot water and milk down his throat. That was a bad day.
Teeth have been very difficult for Bigfella. He's cross cut a couple and he seems to have really tough, nervy gums because it's like pulling teeth (hmmm) to get these teeth through. The other day, Littlefella yawned and a saw a small white mark on the middle of his bottom gum. I said a bad word (I didn't swear, but was quite pleased Bigfella AKA Mr RepeaterMan didn't hear me) and pulled his mouth open to have a look. It was just a milk bit. I don't know if I could deal with two teethers.
The sun is shining and it's a beautiful day. We're getting better and can see sunshine from under this mean cold cloud and look forward to days of activity, running around and all sorts. It would be nice to get up to lots.
When you have a toddler, this sort of thinking doesn't go very far. It gets interrupted by "oh dear, not that! How did you even get that? Put him down! Just breathe, woman, you can do this, let's go outside!" You also notice how your internal dialogue has become an external one again. Wonder what Vygotsky would say to that!
So these days of idle slothfulness just don't happen. Or do they?
This past week, my two beautiful boys and I have been quite sick with a miserable head cold (Adrian has been amazing taking care of us when he can and still getting his work done.). It's the kind where sleep doesn't happen well, though you need it. It's the kind where the act of breathing feels like flames and bleeding on one's throat.
On top of this, our eldest (herinafter Bigfella) has been pushing through two molars (last count, three prongs of one, one prong of the other are through) as well as dealing with a mild reaction to an immunization. For a couple of days, all the poor kid wanted to do was sit and watch movies while cuddled up on my lap. While I'm all for the cuddling, the fact that he wanted to sit and do nothing was heart-rending. Seeing my active, happy little boy so uncomfortable and busted was bad. I found myself longing for a bit of his mischief. Pull the books down! I wanted to say. I missed his energy and his excitement. It hurt to see him so miserable and whingy. And the whinging did get to extreme levels. Atomic, you might say.
And while my antibodies are helping the younger boy (herinafter Littlefella) - and how do they do that anyway? How can my antibodies give him more immunization than they give me? - he was still coughing and grumpier than usual.
There were two yelling, upset, snuffling, grumpy boys. And when Bigfella started feeling better we had to have another conversation: Just because you're feeling bad, doesn't mean you should act bad. (Though come to think of it, I probably said be. Just another example of how I'm a bad mother. ;) )
It's hard being sick, but it's harder being sick when you don't get to stop and rest because people are depending on you. It's harder watching your kids in pain, and it's terrible when one feels grumpy at grumpiness. It's harder when the youngest is growthspurting too!
There was a time when Bigfella was 9 months old when he got hit by a really painful teething bout and we couldn't get anything into him - not even water for over 8 hours on a really hot day. We ended up using a medicine syringe to shoot water and milk down his throat. That was a bad day.
Teeth have been very difficult for Bigfella. He's cross cut a couple and he seems to have really tough, nervy gums because it's like pulling teeth (hmmm) to get these teeth through. The other day, Littlefella yawned and a saw a small white mark on the middle of his bottom gum. I said a bad word (I didn't swear, but was quite pleased Bigfella AKA Mr RepeaterMan didn't hear me) and pulled his mouth open to have a look. It was just a milk bit. I don't know if I could deal with two teethers.
The sun is shining and it's a beautiful day. We're getting better and can see sunshine from under this mean cold cloud and look forward to days of activity, running around and all sorts. It would be nice to get up to lots.
Thursday, October 25, 2012
11 Things
I write a good deal about certain things in my life, but I thought it might be fun while I have a few spare minutes (nap time!) to mention a few others.
1. I have an ongoing battle with a bird. It decided that this was its house a few months ago and perches on window ledges, pooping on everything, tapping the glass and making everything yucky looking. It will not go away and it would not be right to kill it. Recently it has decided that it (he? she?) now owns the house and took to attempted to scare us off by flying really close to our heads in a bird intimidation manoeuvre. I will admit, it was slightly scary, but mainly I was wanting it not to bug my kids. If it bugs my kids, I may have to change my mind about what's right...
2. My favourite colours are brown and green.
3. I'm trying to instil a love for music in my sons, so we often play various genres on youtube and dance around the house. I also just love the laughter that comes... and seeing which ones my eldest likes. I've also learned a few songs from this when Adrian chooses the tunes.
4. I have not legally changed my last name even though I've been married for three years. Immigration stuff impeded the change and I've not gotten to it yet.
5. I will not watch horror movies, but for some reason felt compelled to watch part of Jaws 2 when it was on television a couple days after I found out that there was a white pointer (great white) hanging around the beaches in the area.
6. When I get into a book, I will not hear people talk to me and I just want to finish it. For this reason now that I have children, I tend to read books that I've already read so they won't distract me to the same point.
7. I don't appreciate it when songs are not bleeped on the radio. And I've reached that stage in life when I don't know popular music anymore.
8. I read more nonfiction (on purpose, vous savez, school reading does not count) since becoming pregnant with my eldest. Sometimes fiction feels like a wasteful use of my time. But then so does facebook and I still end up there... I'm currently reading two books (French Kids Eat Everything and Plastic Free)
9. I have damaged enough of my joints over the years to get very stiff and sore at the end of long days.
10. I've never been a morning person, but I now enjoy waking up around 6 every morning. It would be better to do it without a glass of water poured on my face though...
11. When I got my hair cut into its recent style, which I do enjoy, I was sad when Adrian and I both realized independently that it looked like a Bond girl's (from License to Kill) at sometimes. And when messy, Luke Skywalker's.
1. I have an ongoing battle with a bird. It decided that this was its house a few months ago and perches on window ledges, pooping on everything, tapping the glass and making everything yucky looking. It will not go away and it would not be right to kill it. Recently it has decided that it (he? she?) now owns the house and took to attempted to scare us off by flying really close to our heads in a bird intimidation manoeuvre. I will admit, it was slightly scary, but mainly I was wanting it not to bug my kids. If it bugs my kids, I may have to change my mind about what's right...
2. My favourite colours are brown and green.
3. I'm trying to instil a love for music in my sons, so we often play various genres on youtube and dance around the house. I also just love the laughter that comes... and seeing which ones my eldest likes. I've also learned a few songs from this when Adrian chooses the tunes.
4. I have not legally changed my last name even though I've been married for three years. Immigration stuff impeded the change and I've not gotten to it yet.
5. I will not watch horror movies, but for some reason felt compelled to watch part of Jaws 2 when it was on television a couple days after I found out that there was a white pointer (great white) hanging around the beaches in the area.
6. When I get into a book, I will not hear people talk to me and I just want to finish it. For this reason now that I have children, I tend to read books that I've already read so they won't distract me to the same point.
7. I don't appreciate it when songs are not bleeped on the radio. And I've reached that stage in life when I don't know popular music anymore.
8. I read more nonfiction (on purpose, vous savez, school reading does not count) since becoming pregnant with my eldest. Sometimes fiction feels like a wasteful use of my time. But then so does facebook and I still end up there... I'm currently reading two books (French Kids Eat Everything and Plastic Free)
9. I have damaged enough of my joints over the years to get very stiff and sore at the end of long days.
10. I've never been a morning person, but I now enjoy waking up around 6 every morning. It would be better to do it without a glass of water poured on my face though...
11. When I got my hair cut into its recent style, which I do enjoy, I was sad when Adrian and I both realized independently that it looked like a Bond girl's (from License to Kill) at sometimes. And when messy, Luke Skywalker's.
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