First Day Drama

It may still be August, but don't tell the weather because it is acting like fall, and I am very much okay with that! Today was JCT's first day of four year old preschool, and was a beautiful day. Temps must have been in the mid 70's all day, and there was a cool breeze blowing through our sweet little small town. It felt like the first day of school should feel ~ like the beginning of a new season, full of change and anticipation. Even one of the trees across the street from the preschool was aflame in all its fall glory albeit a bit early, but it was beautiful all the same.


The cool weather, the nice breeze, and the beautiful surroundings were all very serene ~ not to mention the fact that my sweet husband brought me a Venti Chai Latte (a.k.a. Peace in a cup). It was sitting in my cup holder beckoning me to drink of it. And, every so often as we drove to JCT's school, I would take a warm, soothing sip. It was all very nice. . .


Until we parked.

in front of the school.

And, JCT refused to get out of his car seat.

He held his hands over his straps refusing to let me unbuckle him.

So, Erik tried.

He got JCT unbuckled, but JCT refused to get out of the back of the van.

He sat down in the floor of the third row of our van.

Erik had to pry him out of the van, kicking and screaming, while all the nice little kids with all their nice little parents gently walked by trying not to stare at us and attempting to steer their children away from us fearing the impact our son's behavior might have on their child.

It was not pretty, I assure you.

This is Erik attempting to talk JCT into going into his classroom. . .



But, it didn't work. When they left the courtyard, JCT was once again kicking and screaming. I chose to stay in the car with the babies. I couldn't do it.

About 15 minutes later, Erik came out with beads of sweat dripping from his brow. Let's just say that he wasn't happy. He said JCT fought tooth and nail the entire time.

We drove the short drive to Erik's office discussing what we would do if this behavior continued beyond today. I dropped him off at work ~ patients waiting in rooms, already starting his day 15 minutes behind schedule.

But, before I got out of the parking lot, I got a call from a friend of ours who works at the preschool. And, she said, JCT was. . .

"Fine."

Chuckling, she said that as soon as Erik left the building, he quit crying and started playing playdoh.

Why, I ask you?

Why?

I mean, seriously, why?

So, when he got home from school, I asked him how he liked it. His answer. . .

"I loved it."

So, I asked, "What are you going to do tomorrow when Daddy drops you off at school?"

"I don't know?" He answered, thoughtfully, "I was just thinkin' bout that. I just don't know if I'm gonna cry or not. I'm not sure yet?"

"Well, since you know you like school, since you know it is fun, don't you think you could choose to be happy and walk into class like a big boy tomorrow?"

"Yeah. I just don't know yet. I'm still thinking about it."

We are eagerly awaiting his decision.

Yet Another Birthday. . .

On August the 18th our fish turned 2 years old.

Seriously.

I didn't know fish lived that long!

And, I told Erik (who, by the way, has had a death wish out for these fish for some time now) that any fish that lived two years deserved a party. And, so we threw a party for Dora and Zach the tank killer (that is what Joshua calls him :-))!!!

I made a cookie cake and everything! The boys are into Indians right now, so instead of singing the fish a traditional Happy Birthday, they asked if they could do an Indian chant/rain dance/ like version of Happy Birthday. Joshua was the chief dancer and singer. It was quite interesting, and I am certain the fish enjoyed it very much. ;-)

We don't really do anything the "normal" way around here, but, man, it makes things interesting. . .

and very FUN!!!!!

I guess this is what Dr. Dobson meant. . .

I think it was in Bringing Up Boys that I heard Dr. Dobson say (and this is a rough paraphrase). . .


"You can choose to try and keep your boys away from guns. You can choose to not buy them or to not bring them into your home. But, if you do they will make them. . . out of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich if they have to, but they will make them."

That quote is the first thing I thought of when a few days ago I saw this. . .

I guess the man knows what he is talking about. . . :-)

Pop Love!

Wow! I am so behind on posting! I think I have twenty posts that I haven't had to time to write just yet. . .

But, I will get to them. . . and soon!! :-)

For now, I'll say that we've had a wonderful weekend! Friday evening we celebrated Elijah's 2nd birthday (which took place in April, but we never had a "real" party) and Erik Daniel's first birthday! Our home was full of our closest friends and family! It was very, very fun, and that post will come! But, for now I wanted to post these three pics. Joshua loves with his whole heart, and one of his favorite people to love and love on is his Pop! Deana B caught these moments for me. She is a good friend like that ~ sees a sweet moment and grabs my camera!

Nothing feels better than a sweet, warm, tender hug from Pop. . .

And, nothing makes this little boy happier than being the center of Pop's attention. . .

Does it get any better than this when you are 6 years old. . .

sitting in Pop's lap and enjoying his love!!!???!!!

Childlike Faith

I love to see things through the simple eyes of my children. At the memorial service in Florida, one of the speakers told the story of a conversation my two older boys had with their Pop. I did not know the story, so it was very fun for me to hear it!

Imagine Pop walking flanked on each side by cute little red-headed, freckle faced boys. JCT looks up at Pop and asks, "Pop can you fall out of heaven?" Pop hesitates for a second. And, before he could come up with an answer, Joshua says,

"Well, if you did, Jesus would catch you."

Simple as that.

I love it. You are safe. Jesus is there, so you are safe. No matter if you fall, no matter if you fly, you are safe. Jesus will catch you.

If only we could all truly believe that deep into the inner-most parts of our hearts. If only we could believe that we were truly safe ~ that falling is okay, that failing is okay, because He is there ready to catch us.

Oh, don't let me get deep! We are talking about simple faith ~ like the faith of a child.

It rained a good bit yesterday, and for a couple hours I was alone at home with Joshua. We were working on school work. I left the room for a moment, and when I came back over to check his work, he said excitedly, "I have an idea!"

"What is it?" I asked.

"Well, we could write a note to Grandma on a piece of paper. Then, we could attatch the paper to a balloon, and we could go outside and let it go! And, it would float up to heaven!!!!!"

Now what do you say to that? I am perfectly aware that heaven is not a place located just above the clouds. But, right or wrong, I didn't have the heart to tell him that. And, if he wanted to send a note to his Grandma, I wasn't about to tell him that he couldn't do it. I simply could not burst his sweet little bubble!

So, I said, "Joshua, that is a great idea! We can do that tomorrow if you'd like?"

I went out and bought helium filled balloons for he and JCT. And, they wrote their own little notes. . .

Then, we headed outside to let the balloons fly free. . .

The release. . .

It was truly beautiful to watch them ascend. The notes shimmered and shined like mirrors as they got closer and closer to the clouds.

The boys ran around the yard watching the balloons go higher and higher. . .

It was very fun and very sweet. And, throughout the evening, I heard Joshua talking aloud to God, praying, "God, please let our messages get to Grandma. Please let her get our messages."

She will not be forgotten. She will be missed ~ by many, but for certain by two cute little red-headed, freckle-faced little boys!

ONE!!!!

**Updated to add. . . I took you to your 12 month check up today, and you were a hit with the doctor, nurse, and lab lady!!! Dr. I said you officially made his sweet boy hall of fame!! You were so good and playful while he assessed you! And, when the nurse came in to give you shots you reached for her, and she took you to the nurse's station. When you got to the nurse's station, you wanted Dr. I. He took you and held you for a little bit while he worked on charts! They had to draw blood from your sweet little finger to check for anemia. You didn't even flinch! You just watched intently as the lab lady milked your sweet finger for blood!! I think you were trying to figure out how she was getting red stuff to come out of your finger! :-) Cute! You are such a joy! I'm thankful for you! You weighed in at 24 pounds and 4 ounces and 32 inches. I'll have to check my records, but I think you may just be my biggest one year old yet!!!! I'm just glad you're mine!!**


I can't believe that my baby is ONE!!! You are so wonderful, peaceful, and sweet, and we thank God for surprising us with the gift of your life!!!

I still can't believe that it has been a year since we met you for the very first time! Now you are busy and active, eating baby food, yogurt, and cheerios, and standing up - balancing all by yourself!! You'll be walking/running soon!!!!! You went from calm sweet baby to wiggly squirmy little man practically overnight!!! And, you are talking loudly and a good bit these days!! Mostly you just say "Mama" and "Dada," but I have heard you make grand attempts at other words! I thank my God for your little life!!! You are blessing us big time!!!

Yesterday we took you to church in your little crown, but you wouldn't keep it on for very long!!! You looked cute as a button while it was on!!! Thanks for all the joy you bring us!!! We all love you to pieces!

Pic #1. . .
Pic #2. . .And, pic #3. . .

Man, I love you, my brown-eyed baby boy!!!!

Peace Among Us

Our family celebrated my mother-in-love's life again in a special service held at a church in Florida where Pop recently served as interim pastor. This church body loved my in-loves like crazy, and we are so very grateful.

The service was peaceful and sweet. We gathered in a crowded sanctuary and celebrated her precious life as rain fell hard upon the tin roof above us ~ soothing us with its gentle, melancholy rhythm. It was God, in my opinion, pouring down his peace upon us that day. Always among us, never leaving us, just one of the many reasons that I love Him so.

I could write all day about this service, as well as, the one we had 2 weeks ago in New Orleans. The men who spoke at both services did a wonderful job of telling the story of the beautifully sacrificial soul that we were blessed to know and be influenced and inspired by. But, rather than record the parts of the service that were caught on video camera or via audio, I want to tell you about a little something that was going on in our little row that the cameras most likely did not catch. . .

Beforehand it was decided, Pop would sit between his two sons during the service. But, just as we were about to walk into the sanctuary, JCT ran up and grabbed Pop's hand. And before I could get to him, he and Pop were halfway down the aisle. I began to panic a just a little. I knew it would be difficult to get him to let go of Pop's hand. So, I whispered to Erik as we entered our row to "Get JCT." But neither JCT nor Pop would have any part in it and rather than cause a scene we just let JCT sit where he landed which was on the far side of Pop ~ between Pop and his Uncle Jason ("Bubba").

So, now I am in panic mode because I do not have control. JCT is too far away for me to pinch him or whisper to him or threaten him ~ too far away for me to control his fun little boy behavior. :-) And, I like control. :-) As the service begins, JCT is turning around looking at the audience behind him, putting his feet up in the air, and whispering loudly to Pop. And, I am literally sweating. I keep whispering to Erik, "Get. Him. Now." And, Erik kept patting my leg saying, "It is okay. It is okay."

But, all I could think was that Pop will not be able to focus on the service, and this is horrible, and could there be a worse scenario? And, Erik, will you get. him. right. now. I have no control from over here, and he is causing a scene, and he needs to go sit with Alan or Kevin or someone farther back. Why did I not nip this one in the bud? Why did I not have him in my arms when we came down the aisle or at the very least held his hand and steered him to his assigned seat ~ right beside me!

So, after about 10 minutes of JCT and I both squirming uncomfortably in our seats, Pop picked JCT up and placed my little man on his lap. I took a deep breath. Maybe now he would be still. Maybe, Lord, just maybe. And, just as Pop put JCT on his lap the first speaker went up to the podium to speak. And, as he spoke I prayed this prayer, "Dear Lord, please entertain him with thoughts. Flood his little mind with things to think about so that he will not be bored. Please Lord, pour your peace over my little boy and give him much to think about during the rest of this service."

And, you know what?

He did more than that, oh, so much more than that. . .

He went above and beyond my imagination and my feeble prayer. A few minutes later, I looked over and noticed that Pop was gently tickling JCT's arm. And, I calmed down a little. I took a deep breath and listened to the words of the speaker mixed with the gentle rhythm of the rain. Maybe Erik was right. Maybe it would be okay. The next time I looked over at JCT, he was sound asleep on Pop. And, as the various speakers spoke and singers sang, I couldn't help but continue to periodically look at my little man and his Pop. His breathing was slow and soft and soothing. And, if ever you have held in your arms a child whom you love deeply while he sleeps and you have felt the rises and falls of his sweet little chest against yours then you know the peace that they can bring to your soul. And, I prayed it for Pop. I prayed that God would manifest His peace to him through the tenderness of this sleeping little boy. And, he slept on Pop the rest of the service, and the memory is priceless to me.

Absolutely priceless.

(At this point I could write a little something about how I learned a lesson about how I should just relax and not try so hard to control things because God is really the one in control, and He has a greater purpose. . . . Yeah, yeah, but I'm not going to write it because even though I can see that this was the case, I can assure you that tomorrow I will still try to control things! So, I won't pretend that I'm a changed woman! ;-))

We Are All About Grace and Love at Our House.

Seriously, we are. So, you can imagine how surprised I was when I overheard this conversation the other evening. . .

Joshua and JCT sit in the third row of our van ~ just the two of them. And, if I could always hear their little conversations, I feel quite certain that my blog would become a transcript of their interactions.

This particular evening Joshua was announcing that he would see Grandma again because he was going to heaven one day because he had asked Jesus into his heart. He then felt it necessary to point out that Daddy had asked Jesus into his heart, and Mommy had asked Jesus into her heart. But, he couldn't leave it at that. He, also, felt it necessary to point out that "JCT has not asked Jesus into his heart yet, and Elijah has not asked Jesus into his heart yet, so they are going to go to h*el*l unless they do it!!!!" Then, he looked JCT directly in the eyes and said, "You better ask Jesus into your heart right now, or you're going to go to h*el*l when you die! Do you want to go to h*el*l??"

JCT very quickly and quietly agreed with Joshua that h*el*l was not where he wanted to go when he died. And, in the blink of an eye, Joshua led JCT to invite Jesus into his heart. Or, rather Joshua forced salvation upon him using the h*el*l/fear tactic. I'm not really sure what my sweet Lord, full of grace and love, thought as he looked down upon this backseat conversation. But, I think it made him laugh. :-) Yes, I am quite certain He laughed. He loves my Joshua, and He knows his heart. And, don't worry, I had a little talk with the two of them about salvation, forgiveness, grace, love, and h*el*l.

Coach

My husband lost his mother less than a week ago, and just a few minutes ago I watched him jump, cannon-ball style, into our pool while his adoring fans squealed with delight as his 200 pound body hit the water making enormous waves. He never ceases to amaze me ~ his strength, his gentleness, his courage, his perseverance. We are both trying to adjust and figure out this new normal.

I'm really not sure why I am writing this post. I guess because I want to remember the interaction between the two ~ the coach and the player. The interaction lasted only a few minutes, but what I witnessed is etched in my mind ~ I am hoping for good. And, in case I forget, I will have this post to remind myself and my Erik. :-)

Over the last 13 years I have seen my sweet husband play the role of coach many, many times. I have seen him coach our sons in every sport available to American little boys. But, not just in sports, I have watched him coach youth, young men, and, of course, my sweet sons in the game of life. But, there have been very few times that I have seen my husband play the role of player ~ looking deep into his coach's eyes for direction, for guidance, for encouragement.

Rewind to Wednesday morning, his mother's memorial service. . . We got to the chapel early to greet the guests. So many friends and family gathered around and surrounded us with great love. And, I was quite a little mess of tears and tissues, but my husband was a rock until. . .

the receiving line brought him face to face with his high school basketball coach and his wife. They treated Erik like family.

I am just going to refer to him as Coach.

You see, Coach was the kind of coach we all want to coach our sons. He didn't just coach them in basketball. No, in the same category as Wooden and Meyer, Coach coached his players at the game of life. My husband has huge respect for Coach. And, other than his Dad, I can't think of another man that he has mentioned God using to shape and mold him into the man he is today.

Coach.

I don't know him well, but I love him much. His eyes are clear and blue ~ the kind that pierce through you but have an undeniable tenderness at the same time. And, his wife has always loved my Erik like one of her own. Years go by in between the times that we see them, but nothing changes, they treat Erik like a son. All that said. . .

I left Erik for a few minutes to hug Deana B. She and I talked for a moment, and then she asked, "Who is that Erik is hugging?" I turned around to see my big strong husband crumbling in the arms of Coach's wife. Coach was standing behind her waiting for his turn to speak to my husband. I watched as Erik embraced and exchanged words with his coach, and I couldn't get to them fast enough. I longed to hear their interaction. I got to them just in time to witness this. . .

The line was pressing, and it was time for Coach and his wife to move forward and give others a chance to speak with the family. But, before Coach walked on, he took his hand and pressed it HARD into Erik's chest and said two simple words with the force and intensity of a coach at a Championship Ball game ~ last 5 seconds, 3 point game. Only this wasn't a Championship game, this wasn't a game at all. This was more than that, this was life, real life, unfair, undeserving, heart wrenching, life. But, remember, I told you, Coach wasn't just good at coaching basketball. So, here he was in a room full of teary, emotionally weak people, coaching one of his favorite players. The two words he said as he lovingly pounded his hand into Erik's chest were. . .

"Be Strong."

And, my husband choking back tears did not hesitate. He looked his favorite coach right in the eyes, right straight through to Coach's soul, and said words that rang in my ears for hours afterward. . .

"You know I will, Coach. You know I will."

Coach filling up with a bit of emotion himself at this point, smiled knowingly, "Yes, I do know. I know you will. I know you will."

And, for a brief second, I saw my teary, starched shirt wearing husband transformed into a sweaty, jersey clad teenage boy standing before his coach assuring his coach that he would not let him down. And, his coach staring back at him with great intensity saying, "I believe in you. I know your character, and I believe in you. You can do this. Be strong."

It was a quick interaction, but, man, it tore me up. I am so thankful for Coach and all that he means to my husband.

And, for all you coaches' wives out there, you have no idea how much your husbands' shape the lives of their players. It is an awesome thing.

I am so grateful.

On the First Day of First Grade. . .

My Joshua. . .

He had a very good day. He said his teacher was "the best teacher I've ever had." So, I had to ask, "You like her better than Mrs. W?" (Mrs. W. was his kindergarten teacher.) His very diplomatic answer. . . "They are both the best teachers!"

We got into town from the Memorial Service in New Orleans around 9:30 p.m., and Joshua didn't go to bed until after 10. Then, he cried himself to sleep in my bedroom. He woke up teary once again in the morning, but a phone call from his Daddy made him smile. I was a little worried about him, so I got Miss Megan to come watch the little boys so that I could eat lunch with him. And, I can honestly say that by lunch he was doing just fine.

But, he was missed by his Mama and his brothers. I think JCT asked me every hour on the hour if it was time to "go pick Joshua up yet?"

I'm so proud of you, sweet boy. For a sensitive little boy, you are one tough cookie!

In Jesus' Arms. . .

It is through tear-filled eyes that I am attempting to put this post together.

My sweet husband was three hours from the hospital when he received the call that Jesus had called his precious mother home.

Thanks so much to those who prayed.

But, you know what I know without a doubt?

I know that she knows.

She knows her big boy loves her because he told her over and over and over and over while she was with him. He loved her well, and I have been blessed to have witnessed that love in action as he cared for her each weekend over the past few months.

I'll never forget watching him walk into her hospital room and take command. He'd open the blinds. Talk to her sweetly. Do his little physical therapy routine on her while I constantly assured her that he loved her so much and that is why he was working her so hard! He'd ask her 100s of questions to check her memory. Watching him look her over with a doctor's eye. Watching him spoon feed her and clean her up. Yes, he loved her well.

Her children arose and called her blessed. She couldn't have asked for more.

I think the thing that makes me the most sad is when I think about how little of her my sons will know. Joshua will remember the most, but even he has a mere 6 years worth of memories. It just makes me that much more determined to keep her memory alive.

Who was she, you ask?

Oh, do let me tell you a bit about her. . .

We are blessed to have walked with her. Her heart was pure and selfless. Her hands were those of a servant. I have met few like her on my journey thus far. A humble, beautiful soul.

She loved me for who I am. She never thought I, or anyone else for that matter, needed to be anything or anyone other than exactly who they are. She loved with every fiber of her being. She gave the most amazing love pats. She could pat legs like she could beat eggs ~ with amazing wrist power! She was something special. Brutally honest. Always saying exactly what she thought. She told my parents the first time ever she met them that "Jimmy and I are praying Erik marries your daughter." Erik and I had known each other only a few months, and my parents were flattered but a bit surprised! The best was when she told Brother (Sean) that he looked like George Castanza! She was a great lady. But, the most remarkable thing about her was the way she believed in those she loved. For instance. . .

She thought I could do no wrong ~ even though my inadequacies were ever present and unfortunately quite obvious.

She thought I was a wonderful mother ~ even when she witnessed me losing my temper with her beloved grandsons.

She thought I was a great cook ~ even when I made a complete mess of dinner.

She thought I was a precious wife ~ even when she watched her son carry most of the weight.

She thought I was a wonderful housekeeper ~ even when there were cobwebs in every corner of my house and crumbs all over my floors.

She thought I was tiny ~ even when I was 9 months pregnant with my fourth son.

She thought I was a great writer ~ even when I couldn't put two thoughts together to save my life.

She thought I was organized ~ even when my counter tops had clutter piled to ceilings.

She thought I was beautiful ~ even when I first got up in the morning with dark circles under my eyes and no make-up on my face.

She thought I was a wonderful hostess ~ even when I didn't have time to make sweet tea or change the sheets on the guest bed before she arrived.

She thought I could do ANYTHING that I wanted to do ~ even though I am extremely fearful and consumed with self-doubt.

She believed in me.

She always and only built me up. I could have asked for no more in a mother-in-love. Her faith was simple and sweet. I will miss her something fierce.

I talked to my husband a while ago, and he was in her room saying goodbye. His voice was pure peace, and I can't tell you how it soothed my soul to hear it. He said, "Well, Baby, she is pretty. She is pale, and she is pretty, but she is not here. She is lifeless. Her spirit is gone. She is in Jesus' arms now." Peace. That is the kind of peace that only comes from One Source and One Source alone.

Erik called around bedtime to tell the big boys. I had one on each side of me holding them in my arms. I put the phone on speaker, and Erik began to explain to the boys what happened to their sweet Grandma. The conversation went something like this, "Boys, you know how we are spirit, and we relate to God through our spirit. You know, how we talk about that we are Spiritual beings? Well, Grandma's Spirit went to be with Jesus today. And, now she is well. Jesus gave her a brand new body, and she can walk and talk and do all the things she used to be able to do. And, her new body is even better than her old one!"

Joshua was grinning from ear to ear. He even let out an "Awesome!" as he listened to his Dad talk about Grandma's new body. But, it wasn't until a little later in the conversation when JCT very astutely asked, "So, are you saying Grandma died?" When Erik said yes, Joshua picked up the front of his t-shirt and pulled it up over his face and my big boy's little dam broke. He finally understood that he wouldn't see his Grandma again on this earth.

But, praise God, he will see her again one day!

After the conversation with Erik, I sat on the couch and held my little man as he cried and cried. I couldn't help being so thankful. So thankful that he loved her so much. So thankful that he had such a precious Grandma to love for the first 6 years of his life. May he always remember what a precious and loving lady she was.

Please continue to pray for our family.

Their Little Game

They used to play this little game. I think it began when Erik was in college. As he would pull out of the driveway, he would roll his window down and yell to his mom, "Bye, I love you." And, she would yell back, "Bye, I love you." He'd back his car out a few feet and once again yell, "Bye, I love you." And, she would respond, "Bye, I love you." They would continue this until Erik was finally out of earshot. Many times I have been in the passenger seat while this sweet little game was played out between the two of them, and often her end was yelled out between tears. She loves her boys.

Well, not this past weekend, but the weekend before, Erik once again played this game with his mom as he slowly backed out of her hospital room. When he finally made his way out of her room, he stuck his head back in for a few more surprise, "Bye, I love you's." She responded to every one her sweet voice echoing his. Erik and I were both teary when we got on the elevator that evening.

Right now Erik is driving those familiar highways to New Orleans in hopes that he will make it there in time to say those words to his mother one more time. And, maybe Lord willing, that he will be able to say them over and over and over again to her over the coming years. But, all that is uncertain at the moment.

Late yesterday evening after we had driven home from a weekend in New Orleans, Pop called us to let us know that Erik's mom's oxygen sats were not staying up even with oxygen on her. Then, a bit later we got a call that her blood pressure was down. Then, another call saying it had gone back up. Then, another call saying that her respirations were 28/min, and they were admitting her to ICU. Then, another call saying that her blood pressure was 89/30. Then, another call saying that they were intubating her, putting her on a respirator, and putting in a central line and giving her vasopressors. Whew, it was a night, a night none of us will forget. Then, late this morning brought us word that they were going to have to dialyze her. So, that is where we are right now. We covet your prayers.

If you are reading this Monday afternoon, please, please, please pray that Erik makes it to the hospital before anything happens.