The Wilcox Family

Aunt Lena Meets Her Newest Nephew

2012-01-26T19:27:00.003-05:00

When Graham was eight days old, our sweet Lean Bean finally got to meet him!

Little Squish

Is hims precious, or what?

Graham Comes Home

2012-01-22T10:02:00.002-05:00

Graham David Wilcox

2012-01-20T21:46:00.002-05:00

The newest member of our family has been around for nine whole days now. Graham David joined us at 4:08 a.m. on Wednesday, January 11th. He weighed 9 pounds and 6 ounces and measured 21 1/2 inches. It was love at first sight all 'round...

More pictures to come soon!

Happy Birthday, Mommy! (by Graham)

2012-01-16T14:40:00.001-05:00

After only five days of life, I have concluded, without a doubt and with complete accuracy, that you are the most amazing woman in the whole universe. Esme and Matthew and Meg and Daddy all agree. We love you so much!

Happy Birthday!

It's Official

2012-01-10T19:36:00.002-05:00

Baby #4 is officially our "latest" arrival. Today I am four days from my due date. Meg arrived six days early, Matthew ten days, and Esme eleven. So this guy is kind of on his own time table, and that's still ok with us. I'm still pretty comfy, except at night, which only recently has become a restless, uncomfortable time. Also, I'm pretty certain that the baby has turned back to where I want him to be. No guarantee, and it's not the end of the world if he's sunny-side up, but, hey... if I can avoid back labor or anything extra fun like that, I'm all for it.

That's about all the update I have in me for now! We sure are excited to meet our little man.

39 Weeks Tomorrow...

2012-01-06T13:06:00.002-05:00

The kids and I just got back from my latest check-up with the midwife. The only news is that Baby seems to be "sunny-side up," with his face and the front of his body toward the front of my body. This is not the ideal position for labor and delivery and could lead to a longer labor or complications. I have a list of exercises and postures to use to try and persuade this little guy to turn himself backside-up (or anterior position, for the purists among us). I'd appreciate your prayers that God would help him to cooperate!

So Far in 2012...

2012-01-04T14:18:00.003-05:00

...I have been in frantic nesting mode, doing all of the small things that Christmas and big home projects forced me to put on hold last month.

...I am reading the book of Job (didn't finish my Bible-reading plan last year, so onward I go) and for some reason am appreciating it so much more than ever before.

...I have completed about 60 loads of laundry. (Maybe less. But it feels like 60.)

...I have made one trip to the pediatrician. Meg has a double ear infection, but she's not in too much pain, for which I am grateful.

...I have begun to reread Stepping Heavenward, my favorite book of all time and probably an annual reread for me (give or take) for the last five years or so.

...I have written and sent 10 thank-you notes. Many more to come.

...I have one person the Lord seems to have laid on my heart to pray for in a concentrated way this year. This is someone who I haven't seen or heard from in years and probably would not normally pray for often.

...I have one lead on a "word for the year." Last year, inspired by my friends Trinity and Sandi, for the first time ever I asked the Lord to give me a word for the year. The word He seemed to supply was "wait." I'm still processing how that played out. This year's word... well, I have a little more praying to do before I share it.

...I have made 1 trip to the grocery store.

...I have no idea when Baby is going to make his appearance, but if I had to guess, I'd say it'll be at least a few more days. He still doesn't seem to be in a hurry.

...I have been comforted by the goodness, steadfast love and sovereignty of God. Oh, where would I be without Him in my life?

Christmas Clean-Up Day

2012-01-02T14:02:00.003-05:00

Our roles this year are...

Daddy: Director of Tree Dismantling and Chief Vacuumer

Mommy: Director of Decoration Packing

Meg: Secretary of Tree Dismantling, Secretary of Decoration Packing

Matthew: Undersecretary of Tree Dismantling, Director of Moping ("This is a very sad day for me. I miss our tree. I don't want to take him down. This is a very sad day for me.")

Esme: Director of Dressing Up and Being Clueless

New Year Begun and a New Baby Comin'

2012-01-01T14:08:00.003-05:00

Happy New Year to you, friends and family. Here's to a rich and God-glorifying 2012.

As you know, we're expecting our newest addition... well, it could be just about any day now. At my 36-week check-up (read: internal exam) back on December 21, my cervix was still closed. That was a first; with my other babies I've been at least 1 cm. by that point. Of course, these things can change in a matter of hours, but we were quite happy to hear that all still seemed quiet at that point. Our hope was to make it past the holidays before this little fellow makes his appearance. Check!

In the past few days my contractions have picked up a little bit. I've even had some that felt strongish, but nothing actually painful yet, nothing that made me even consider that this might be "it." And that's a good thing. I still have so much I would like to accomplish before heading to the hospital--cleaning up from Christmas, preparing our room for its new resident, recovering from some surprise home renovations in December and... oh, yeah, packing a bag would probably be good too.

By God's grace, I'm quite comfortable physically. Of course, I tire easily. But this time a month ago, my lower back bothered me quite a bit, and that's all gone now. So if Baby's happy in there and wants to take his time... that's just fine with Mama.

In the meantime, we are drinking up the brief time we have left with this cutie as our baby.

Of course, all of them will always, always be our babies, but by now we know... it won't ever again be quite the same.

November/December School Recap

2011-12-31T11:18:00.006-05:00

Today I'm squeezing in one final, epic, for-my-own-records post about our homeschooling journey in 2011. I began writing this at the end of November, planning to give each month its own space, but... then December happened. And here I am. So here are some of our school highlights from the past two months!

Co-op

In November our little four-family rotation came around to me, and I had a great time preparing my lesson plans. We spent the morning learning about the beginnings of Thanksgiving. We read Thanksgiving Day, by Gail Gibbons, played Cross the Sea in honor of the Mayflower's voyage, learned about some differences and similarities between the Pilgrims and the Indians, and made our own Indian "leather vests" out of brown paper grocery bags.

At our second November co-op, we celebrated one of everyone's favorite fruits of autumn: the glorious but humble apple. We learned about the life of John Chapman, a.k.a. Johnny Appleseed. We made our own apple trees.

We snacked on apples and made cinnamon-sugar soft pretzels as the perfect apple complement.

And, after sampling both green and red apples, we graphed our favorites. Red beat.

In December, we had one final co-op for the year, and I volunteered to teach again so that I can have a little break during Baby's first few months. Our Christmas-themed co-op found us reading The Donkey's Dream, by Barbara Helen Berger, and learning about the concept of symbols. We talked about different symbols for Jesus found in the Bible, and each child got to choose a little Christmas ornament to remind him/her of one symbol of our Savior. We made a Jesus-in-the-manger craft (except I used a different printable than the one shown). And then we had a quick grammar lesson and used our new knowledge about nouns, verbs and adjectives (with the mommies contributing a couple of exclamations) to create one very silly Christmas mad lib, as follows:

It was Christmas morning, and more than anything else, I was hoping for a big, cold momma under the tree. I jumped on my bed. I was so excited I could hardly wait for Mom and Dad to get me from my room so we could open the cats. The sparkly smell of delicious sandwiches wafted up the stairs and made my mouth dance. I felt so scared I thought I might go crazy if my parents didn't come soon. Just then, I heard a gentle Esme at my door. "Merry Christmas, Tree," said my dad, poking his bus driver around the door. "Merry Christmas, Tongue," said my mom from behind him. "Merry Christmas!" I ran, giving them both a big playground. "Are you ready to open some hairbrushes?" my dad asked. "Oh, my!" I said, crawling down the stairs. When I got to the living room, there in front of the baby was the most beautiful cook I had ever seen. I couldn't believe it. I felt so small I couldn't even carry. I turned around to look at my parents. They were both singing at me. For a moment, I just drew back. "Goodness sake, Mom and Dad," I finally said. "This is the bluest gift I ever got."

Our other activity that day was making Snowman Shish Kabobs as part of our snack. There are numerous cute takes on this craft all over the web, but this simple version worked well for our group, as we have a number of food allergies represented. The kabobs required no dairy, no nuts, no whole grain crackers--just marshmallows, pretzel sticks, skewers, and food decorating pens. And just look at these happy little people with their cheerful snowmen:

Whoops! Someone ate hers before I could get a picture.

Fieldtrips

November was to begin with an exciting Metro ride downtown to the National Gallery of Art. Unfortunately, when the day dawned, Esme and Matthew were both too sick to go anywhere. I made an early-morning call to our dear friend Mrs. Apple, and she was able to take Meg along with her girls. I was SO grateful for this. Meg and I would have been seriously bummed to have her miss out on this one. When Meg returned from her big day out, she was chock full of stories and bore an art project she had completed at the museum, based on the work of Eric Carle. Not only that, but Mrs. Apple's ever-generous mother, who had accompanied them on the trip, bought Meg a book at the museum gift shop, Usborne's I Can Draw People. Meg had a fantastic time working through this book over the next few weeks. Here are a couple of the drawings she produced:

Construction worker

Soccer game

Our second November field trip was a Wilcox event, conceived by me and executed by my exceedingly excellent husband. A group of about 25 kids showed up at our church one morning, met Mr. Wilcox in the auditorium, and proceeded to take the Official Covenant Life Church Behind-the-Scenes Technical Tour. Dave did such a great job planning and leading our time. The kids got to try out a microphone, play with volume and effects on the big sound board, put on a light show, use the graphics and lyrics software to project stuff on the screens, hook up cables on the stage, explore the Treehouse Gang set, tour the video production room, and see themselves live on the big screen. What an exciting morning! (At least, I thought so... and the kids all seemed pretty psyched too.)

In December, Meg and I took a surprise field trip to see The Sound of Music at Olney Theatre. A friend who had a last-minute scheduling conflict asked if I would be able to take her daughter and use her extra two tickets for Meg and me. Um... free theater? OK! So off we went. It was Meg's first professional theater experience, and she was captivated. The first act of the show was probably an hour-and-a-half long, and I don't think Meg moved a muscle the whole time, except to turn and beam at me when she recognized a song. As for me, I had never seen a live production of The Sound of Music--unless you count the one we did in high school, with yours truly as a decidedly brunette Maria. So it was great fun to see this show--a real treat to be there.

Language Arts

Meg continued to love our Spell to Write and Read curriculum in November and December. She now has about 80 spelling words under her belt, plus compound words, and is able to use the phonograms and rules she's learned to sound out out many others. We also ventured into the world of writing sentences, which Meg finds absolutely elating. I really love dictating a sentence to her and seeing her face light up when she completes it correctly.

Meg read Patricia MacLachlan's Sarah, Plain and Tall aloud during November, and in December she started The Story of Holly and Ivy by Rumer Godden and Barbara Cooney. I finished reading The Secret Garden (Frances Hodgson Burnett) to her, followed by Charlotte's Web (E.B. White, Garth Williams) and, most recently, Five Little Peppers and How They Grew (Margaret Sidney).

Math

By the week before Christmas, we almost finished out all of our math material for November and December. I still have two lessons left to squeeze in somewhere. I noticed a definite change in the productiveness of our math time when I switched math to a later time slot (we used to do it right after Circle Time each morning). For whatever reason, Meg and Matthew are not as tempted to be out-there silly during math if we spend time focusing elsewhere first. Math highlights from the last couple of months include graphing our extended family members' eye-colors, playing "which number is missing?"with our number cards, using pennies as manipulatives, and starting to learn to tell time. All big hits.

Science

We are almost finished building our My Body projects! Recently we've added the stomach, small and large intestines, liver and lungs. Science is easily Matthew's favorite part of our school week, and he constantly asks in his most hopeful voice, "Are we doing 'My Body' now???"

History

Meg and I continued to read through America Begins, by Alice Dagliesh. It's been great to use our globe to talk about the routes and discoveries of various explorers. I love that my kids are already getting some world geography into their little brains. I'm positively ashamed at my own geographical ignorance--certainly through high school and college, and sometimes still today!

Music

We continued listening to samples of classical and jazz music, trying to distinguish between the two, and working to identify specific instruments by ear. We have also gotten to know just a few composers and musicians, though we're only skimming the surface at this point. The kids LOVE Dizzy Gillespie, "the man with the strong cheeks." And Meg finds Pavarotti absolutely fascinating; she begs me to find YouTube videos of him performing whenever we have a music lesson.

Circle Time

I don't know that I've blogged about our Circle Time (how we start each school day) before, but for now it looks like this:

1. Sing the days of the week

2. Update days of the week on our poster

3. Pray The Lord's Prayer

4. Pray our own prayers--each person chooses one thing to pray about

5. Go to the front door to check the weather, talk about our observations, update our weather poster

6. Sing one "fun" song to the Lord ("My God is So Great," "He's Got the Whole World in His Hands," "I'm in the Lord's Army," etc.)

7. Learn/practice our hymn of the month

8. Recite The Pledge of Allegiance

As far as hymns go, so far this year we have learned and memorized (with the help of hand motions):

1. "My Hope is Built"

2. "Amazing Grace"

3. "Come, Ye Thankful People"

4. "O Come, All Ye Faithful"

P.E.

This is really old news, but I forgot to mention in September and October's posts that Meg and Matthew took their first swim lessons together. They both did a great job--especially Matthew, who started out terrified to get his face wet and became MUCH more courageous as the class moved forward.

* * *

This is not really a rich, reflective post like many bloggers out there are posting today, but in a way, it is fitting. 2011 was, among other things, a year of much time, prayer, thought, effort and labor poured into our decision about schooling and our subsequent efforts to do kindergarten at home. And it has been a wonderful adventure so far.

Christmas Highlights

2011-12-28T11:13:00.006-05:00

I may need to revisit this post and add some more memories later, but these are the moments that stand out right now.

-I loved attending our Christmas Eve service (I went to the one on the 23rd). My wonderful mother made this possible by babysitting for me. Sometimes it is weird and/or tempting always to attend church events by myself while my husband is working at them, but that night it was pure joy just to go and worship with our dear church family.

-I loved how excited our kids were to open the final box of our Advent calendar, where Baby Jesus was hiding.

-I loved how the kids made their paper angels (a craft that Nana did with them on Christmas Eve eve) swoop and soar all over the place when we sang "Hark the Herald Angels Sing" on Christmas night. What a picture of the magnificent, holy joy the angels must really have had on that mysterious night 2,000 years ago!

-I loved going to a nursing home in Charlottesville, VA two days after Christmas to sing to and visit with the residents there. My sister Jacque organized our trip, and Mom and Dad, Asher and Jacque and their crew, and Dave and I and ours all went together. Despite some exhausted kids--and one who completely melted down over her close-up encounter with the very aged--we had a great time. It was so obviously meaningful to the dear folks in the home. I hope we can do this again soon.

-I loved taking the kids to church on Christmas morning. There were no children's classes that day, and I was definitely nervous about wrangling all three (plus my very pregnant belly) through an hour-long service by myself. By God's grace, everyone did wonderfully. It was a joy to sing carols with my kids, listen to the sermon together, and hear Meg say as we arrived back in the car, "That was fun! I hope we get to go to the 'big meeting' again next Christmas!"

-I loved how enthusiastic Meg and Matthew were about their Christmas notebooks. I actually had to cut them off from adding more and more pages, as we had other Christmas Day activities to which we needed to move. I also loved their answers to the question, "What do you love most about Jesus?" Meg's answer, written in her own hand, was, "Jesus berth day." Matthew's, dictated to me, was "I wuv dat He's my Fadder."

-I loved singing carols with the extended Nalle fam at our gathering the day after Christmas. We were a smaller group this year, having lost two to death in 2011 and missing some who were traveling elsewhere, but singing together is one tradition that brings true comfort. Bonus joys this year: my mom led my kids and their cousins in a brief but very amusing performance of "Come Little Shepherd," my sweet little cousin Aaron sang to us all by himself (with some very quiet help from his mommy), Uncle Rob and his boys sang, "Mary Did You Know?," and Gran read to us an extended excerpt from her mother's journal about the growth of her faith in Christ. It makes me weep to think how blessed I am to be a fourth (or perhaps more) generation Christian. Praise be to our promise-keeping God, who is still in the business of "showing love to thousands of those who love him and keep his commandments." (Exodus 20:6)

Merry Christmas!

2011-12-23T16:41:00.005-05:00

We weren't able to get Christmas cards out this year. I don't even have an updated family picture I can share; the most recent one we have is on our blog header. So in lieu of a traditional Christmas greeting, I'm just going to leave you with this unorthodox little series.

This Christmas season, the Wilcox family wishes you all possible joy, wonder, awe... and messy, delicious chocolate. And for those of our beloved family and friends who are finding Christmas a time of grief or mixed emotions this year, please know that our hearts and our prayers are with you. Much more than that, Emmanuel--God With Us--is with you.

"For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord."

Luke 2:11

"Hallelujah, hope has come!

Hallelujah, Christ has come."

"Hope Has Come," by Stephen Altrogge

Mr. Adams and What Was Under Him

2011-12-22T15:46:00.005-05:00

I never officially introduced our Christmas tree this year. Here he is on his first night with us, almost-but-not-quite fully decorated. His name is Mr. Adams, after our second president. Not John, and not John Adams--just Mr. Adams.

Extremely handsome tree--maybe the finest we've had. So tall that we couldn't put the star on top this year, but that's ok. Mr. Adams has enough merit to go without the star. (And yes, I know that President John Adams was neither extremely handsome nor tall.)

Yesterday we finally opened our presents. (Explanation of why we do this early here, here and here.) It was quite a bit later than we originally planned, but at last we found a date that worked. Unexpectedly, Dave was able to take the whole day off (a big deal for us on the week of Christmas Eve services!), and we had a wonderful time enjoying God's kindness to our family.

I laid off the camera this year so that I could just enjoy my kids enjoying their gifts. (Imagine that!) Hence all these pictures are from after most everything was already opened. Long distance family, know that all of your gifts were received with joy and delight, even if those reactions were not captured! And thank you for your generosity!

Dad and Jan sent new stockings for the kids this year--with their names embroidered thereon, no less!

They also provided all of the stocking stuffers, which was a blessed time saver for Mommy this year. Here is Esme, in her fancy new dress-up slippers, which she calls "buh-fy (butterfly) shoes" and has worn for most her her waking hours since yesterday. (The Hello Kitty t-shirt was Mommy's lone contribution to her stocking.)

Meg and Matthew were thrilled to receive their VERY OWN umbrellas from Mom and Tom. This was a long-held wish finally fulfilled. Simple things, you know?

Grandma Dawn's and Grandpa Tom's "big gift" this year was a wagon. Woah. Happiness. And the kids all fit at once! (For now.)

Daddy with Miss Esme, playing with Matthew's new Nerf gun. Load it...

Aim it...

Shoot it! "Ohhhhhhh, you got me!"

And here are all three with their cool new pen necklaces from Aunty Shanny.

The kids also got to give some presents yesterday. They all wanted to give candy and gum to Daddy, so over the weekend we had picked out some of his favorites, wrapped them up and put them under the tree. Esme was struggling during our shopping expedition, still not fully understanding the concept of picking out gifts for someone else.

But by the time Meg gave Daddy her candy gift yesterday morning, Esme seemed completely on board. She crawled under the tree, pulled out the correct package, and pranced over to hand it to Daddy. David and I were melting all over the living room with how cute and sweet she was, so excited to deliver her gift. He was crooning and kissing Esme, I was choking up... seriously. Dave unwrapped the candy and thanked Esme. Then Matthew came over to investigate. "NO!" said Esme, smacking her brother's hand away and suddenly revealing her true motives. "MINE!"

Well, then Daddy and Mommy dried up in a hurry and had a good laugh at ourselves and our little girl. All of that sweetness was just because she wanted the first taste of Daddy's bounty. Our little angel is just a sinner like us after all.

All the more reason to celebrate the coming of our Jesus at Christmastime...

What Would Happen...?

2011-12-19T22:51:00.005-05:00

I continue to marvel at the way Matthew's little mind works. He's very into "What would happen if…" questions these days. To wit, tonight as we drove home from a special Christmasy outing, Esme wanted me to sing, so I had been singing to the kids for 10 minutes or so. Then suddenly…

Matthew: What would happen if we didn't have any lightbulbs?

(Dave and I laugh)

Dave: Random thoughts from Matthew! (Teasing) "What would happen of we didn't have any ears?"

Matthew: (so excited he can't get the words out) If… if… if we didn't have… if we didn't have any ears, you could see in our heads!

Not at all the obvious answer that came to my mind, but true--quite true!

Meg is Six!

2011-12-14T17:27:00.003-05:00

I've fallen very much behind on the blogging front these last couple of weeks. I have lots of excuses, though--one of them being that our little girl had a birthday earlier this month! It seems impossible that she could be embarking upon her seventh year. But it's true.

Since Meg was born on her Nana's birthday, and since we really hadn't celebrated my Dad's November birthday yet either, we had a combined family party with the five (almost six) Wilcoxes and the three Nalles. Meggers ordered up some Kraft mac 'n' cheese for her celebratory dinner, and the adults enjoyed a yummy baked potato bar in my mom's honor. (Thanks to my mom's spud-lovin' example, a good baked potato is about as true a comfort food as I know.)

After dinner, we had the kek. I mean the cake. (Martin Short, Father of the Bride, anyone?) Meg had requested a flower cake, so this is what I came up with.

Horrible, picture, I know, but if you ignore the crumbs (I've never in my life had such problems with a frosting job!), the cake itself turned out pretty cute. Here's a little video of the presentation of the cake, starring Meg but also prominently featuring my belly, as well as lovely harmonies by Don and Nancy Nalle. Note: we had just finished celebrating Advent and singing our traditional verse of "Hark the Herald Angels," so that's why Mom teasingly starts off singing that instead of "Happy Birthday."

Time to serve it up!

This pained and painful expression is what passes for a smile in Matthew's book (but only when there's a camera pointed at him).

The grown-ups had this Oatmeal Cake, which was warm and gooey and divine. Well, actually, my mom and dad and I had the oatmeal cake. David had the kids' cake, since he prefers buttercream to toasted coconut. And Lena had vanilla ice cream, because she doesn't eat wheat. Just in case you wanted to know.

A few pictures of our gift opening time...

I'm not sure why Meg is doing the smart-aleck look here. This was her card from Matthew, which he did a great job of picking out himself, and she was very pleased and sweet about it, as far as I recall.

Studying Matthew's gift together:

We had the kids pick out their own gifts for Nana and Grandpop this year (with some help from Mommy), but in order to avoid conflict, Meg picked for Nana and Matthew picked for Grandpop. Here is Nana, about to open her Birds of America calendar and her DVD of 1776 (the musical).

And here is Grandpop, whistling at the book Matthew chose for him about the British WWII aircraft Spitfire.

Meg with her new sweatsuit from Nana (Esme got one for her birthday in September, so now they can be matchy-matchy!)

All in all, it was a wonderful, low-key night together. Time with my parents and Lena is surprisingly rare and very precious, so we're blessed to have the excuse of birthdays to force us to clear the calendar.

And, ohhh... my sweet, amazing oldest daughter. I don't have time to go on at length now, but I wish I could say all that this wonderful girl means to us. She brings us more joy with each passing year and is truly a gift from the Lord. I can't wait to know what He has in store for her life.

Today's Quip: Matthew

2011-12-01T12:09:00.003-05:00

During Meg's language arts lesson this morning, Matthew was busy coloring... and listening avidly. After I dictated the word "hand" to Meg, I read her the context/example sentence from the book, and Matthew piped right in.

Me: "The hand that rocks the cradle rules the world."

Matthew: Mommy, what happens if you rock the cradle with your foot?

Philly

2011-11-29T13:04:00.006-05:00

Last week, David and I had the chance to take a quick getaway to Philadelphia. Kind of a combined eighth anniversary celebration and babymoon. We are so grateful to the generous friends and family members who helped make this possible for us in various ways. It was a great treat.

Our getaway needs at this stage in our lives are not very complicated. A clean bed. A quiet, preferably darkish room where we can make up on lost sleep. Yummy food. Some place(s) to walk around and talk. Philadelphia graciously yielded them all.

So we went to bed on time and slept late. (8:30 was as late as my body would let me go, but it was still lovely.) We ate good food, most notably at Sabrina's Cafe (an absolute mountain of ahhhhmazing stuffed French toast) and The Dandelion (easily the best fish and chips I've had). We walked a lot (with many breaks for the pregnant lady's hard-working feet) and got to see some of Philly's historic sites. I just recently reread David McCullough's biography of John Adams, so seeing bits of the city where Adams walked, lived, argued for independence, presided as first president of the senate, and spent the first part of his presidential term was extra meaningful to me.

One thing I have to mention: I'm well aware that Philadelphia's status as The City of Brotherly Love is often... er... questioned. But in my experience, there can be no question about Philly's baby love. I can't tell you how many strangers commented on my belly--all with apparent kindness, or at least good intentions. It literally started the very minute I stepped out of the parking garage onto the street, with the first panhandler we encountered. As I passed him, he stopped rattling his styrofoam cup and broke into an enormous grin. "Oh, I see! I see!" he called, gesturing to my stomach. It continued about an hour later, with the hostess at the restaurant where we grabbed dinner that first night ("You look so cute!"), and proceeded through the next 40 hours or so with security guards (At one place, "You havin' a boy? Yeah, look at him movin'. I can see him!" At the next place, "You havin' a girl?" followed by, "You're tiny! Yeah, she's all baby."), fellow tourists ("I have seven... grandchildren, that is."), and some random local kids on the street ("Congratulations! HEY.... CONGRATULATIONS!") So we--and our baby--felt very well welcomed.

We took only a few pictures, but, hey, that's better than we did in Williamsburg last year, where we took none.

Self-portrait on a bench in Independence Park:

Our view from the same bench (site of a looooong rest for my tired feet):

The statue is of Commodore John Barry, father of the American Navy. The bell tower of Independence Hall is under renovation, but the building was still open for tours.

A beautiful, gnarly old tree that we enjoyed from our bench:

My view of baby:

Dave's view of baby, mama, and park scenery:

Ummm... oh, yes! The Liberty Bell:

My love enjoying his authentic Philly cheese steak...

at:

And the gorgeously bright mural I got to look at as I ate my cheese steak. Most cheering on a chill, rainy day!

My last note, or perhaps confession: in reality, our cheese steaks were not purely and deeply authentic Philly, because we both chose Provolone rather than Cheez Whiz. About this I can only say that there are some places I just can't go, even for the sake of authenticity. And Cheez Whiz will always be one of those places.

My Leetle Turkeys

2011-11-26T14:43:00.005-05:00

When I worked as a conference planner, I had a coworker and friend who would make up these silly names for me that always began with "My leetle (fill-in-the-blank)". By the way, this has nothing to do with the post I intended to write here. It's just that, when I started typing "My Little Turkeys" in the title field, it came out "Leetle" instead, and then I thought of my friend and her zany pet names.

"Trish?"

"Yes, my leetle anchovy salad?"

"Trish?"

"Yes, my leetle turnip blossom?"

Or an email from Trish would begin:

"My dear leetle snail egg..."

Anyway. Getting back to my little turkeys. Here dey is, on Thanksgiving Day.

In front of Meg and Matthew is the (out-of-focus) platter of desserts they made to share with our extended family. Here's a better look.

These Oreo-and-candy birds were sooo much fun for us to make. I am never quite sure, when I start a project with my kids, how it will go over, whether it will be quite at their skill level, how much it will hold their interest, etc. Let me tell you, it may have been the cookies and candy (which are normally pretty scarce in our house), but these were a hit from start to finish. The kids were delighted with their own handiwork.

And what a thrill for them to have something to contribute to our family gathering! Matthew kept the aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, etc. amused all day with his repeated, "Is it time to eat the turkey? Is it time to eat the turkey?" queries. Silly mama--the first time he asked, I actually thought he meant... you know, the turkey-turkey--which, at the time, was sitting in a lovely, thick slice on his plate.

(I'm sure one could find this project in about six dozen different places online, but we discovered it here. Gobble, gobble!)

Thanksgiving Tree

2011-11-23T14:24:00.004-05:00

It's not quite our best year with the Thanksgiving tree. We got a late start, and when I finally sat down to draw and cut out our tree shape, it ended up looking like something that was pulled out of the ground and stuck back in root-side-up. Something was a little off with my creative juices that day, I guess. At any rate, we've enjoyed giving thanks at dinner time each night. It's always a delight to hear what the kids come up with... and when they actually take it seriously (ahem, Matthew)--hey, so much the better.

Some of my favorite leaves on our tree so far read:

"Artem" -Meg (Artem is one of the Reece's Rainbow orphans we're praying for, that God would bring him a mommy and daddy very soon.)

"Dr. Wells Green and Nurse Jamie and how they're making Esme's rash better" -Matthew (after we took Esme to the pediatrician)

"Nana" -Esme (Esme says either "Nana" or "Daddy" almost every night when we ask what she's grateful for; sometimes with prompting we can get something else out of her.)

"That God made Mommy's teeth all better" -Matthew (after I had a painful TMJ flare up)

"God's protection for the Wilbourn family" -Matthew

"Operation Christmas Child" -Meg (on the day that we filled and delivered our shoe boxes)

We have so, so much for which to give God thanks.

The Crime: An Addendum

2011-11-23T12:00:00.002-05:00

My husband reminded me that I forgot to include Matthew's quote in my previous post. When I first discovered our children after the Sharpie incident, Matthew was glowering, giving me the very best of what we call his "thundercloud" expressions.

"I hate* Esme," he said darkly. "I wook re-dic-we-ous."

*A first for this word being used by/of siblings in our home. Not condoned, even when paired with another new and hilariously pronounced vocabulary word.

The Crime

2011-11-19T14:55:00.004-05:00

The victim:

Further evidence:

The suspect:

(That's the look of a true maniac, if I ever saw one.)

Notice the corroborating evidence, remnants of a similar act committed--perhaps rehearsed?-- on the suspect herself. (The court notes that this exhibit would be even more compelling if suspect's mommy hadn't started scrubbing before she picked up the camera.)

Suspect charged with one count of assault with a permanent marker. Plea: no contest. Verdict: guilty. Sentence: being reprimanded, scrubbed well with a wet paper towel, and finished off with coconut oil and a wash cloth. (The prosecution and judge went pretty easy on her since this was a first-time offense.) The court also ruled to place a restraining order on this suspect to prevent her further access to Sharpies and similar weapons of toddler destruction.

More Masterpieces

2011-11-15T10:51:00.003-05:00

This morning, due to circumstances beyond any human being's control, we had a scheduled school event fall through. The kids were pretty disappointed until Meg suggested that we paint. Drowning our sorrows in tempera? Sounds pretty good to me!

Love his two-handed technique.

One of Matthew's finished works, entitled Weird Sammich:

Meg called this one Flower Field:

And Esme just called hers Cheeeeeeeeeee!

A little creative outlet, and then we were able to turn our attention to science with a good will! This was a small thing in the grand scheme, but I'm grateful to God for using something as simple as paint to help us through what might have been a very rough morning.

I Call Zees One... 3

2011-11-14T14:22:00.005-05:00

My inner French artiste is ready to debut another masterpiece. Ready to join him?

Take a long drag on your cee-ga-rette. Hold. Now furrow your brow, gaze off into space and open your lips ever-so-slightly. Exhale through your teeth.

I call zees one...

I Don't Know What Zey Are Doing

(Even Zough I Took Zees Picture Myself)

Purple Princess

2011-11-11T10:07:00.002-05:00

Esme loves dressing up these days. (Almost as much as she loves stripping down to nothing and then accidentally peeing on my floor. Yeah. We're working on that.) In typical two-year old fashion, she usually has at least one bizarre accessory thrown into even the daintiest princess outfit. The other day was a prime example.

The goggles are a great touch, no? Also please note that the princess dress is inside-out and backward.

But none of it stopped Esme from dancing like no one was watching. In this case, I was more than happy to be no one.

Daddy in the House

2011-11-09T16:30:00.003-05:00

Dave has had a busy couple of weeks with back-to-back conferences at church, but we got to have him home two nights in a row a few days ago. At one family dinnertime, the following conversation sparked across our table...

Meg: (slightly crossing her eyes at me) Mommy, when I do this, you have two heads.

Me: (not sure what she was talking about at first) When you...? Oh, when you cross your eyes.

Meg: Yeah. You have two heads when I do that!

David: (with a sly glance at me) Did you know that Mommy always has two heads, and your two eyes just make it look like one?

There was a momentary puzzled silence... and then I saw the tiny smirk on my husband's face. After that I laughed for a loooong time. My sweet, sweetie-sweet husband, telling our kids that I have two heads. Flattering, no? What a charmer!

How I do love that guy.

And so do our kids...

(That last one is Esme and Daddy having a quality Angry Birds moment. Up until two weeks ago, Angry Birds was a delight we were all perfectly content to ignore, but... not so much any more. Much to my chagrin.)

He's the love of our lives!

The God Who Is and Can

2011-11-08T14:23:00.005-05:00

Late Sunday night I found out that my dear friend Trinity lost her home and most all of her family's possessions in a fire that started while they were attending church that day. Trinity and her husband Michael have three small children, and their fourth is due just about any day now. By God's grace, they are all safe and well. But their beloved dog Buddy died in the fire. And for the family, all their sense of normalcy and routine and safety and rhythm--and the beauty of a home they were working hard to make anew (having lived in their farmhouse for only two months)--literally went up in flames. Praise the Lord--PRAISE THE LORD--that they have Him to cling to in this time.

As I lay in my bed Sunday night, and throughout the day yesterday, I wanted SO BADLY to be able to do something. I wanted to be near my friend, to wrap my arms around her, to be able to serve her in some way--any way! And I couldn't do those things. Not yet, at least.

But this is what I could and did do. I prayed. I lay in my bed and made request after request, offering up every need, every sorrow, every anxiety I could imagine my friend and her family might have. And as I prayed, I had such a clear sense of God's reality and power. He was there with me, reading every half-formed thought and absorbing the inarticulate murmurings of my heart. He was there with Trin at the same moment, His mightiness spanning the distance between us. He was there with the Wilbourn family, cradling them in His hand. This was the reality of that moment, whether seen or unseen, felt or unfelt. God is.

And He was so ready and so able to take my weak intercessions and work them for the good of my friend. I might not have been able to do for Trinity, but God could. And what He could do for her family with one single breath would excel what I could do if I spent the rest of my life laboring to serve them. He not only heard my requests; He had the power to fulfill every single one of them, should He so choose. God can.

I don't have any grand plan for the conclusion of this post. I don't have any plan at all, actually. But I couldn't help wanting to capture the comfort of those moments I spent praying to my Lord, and the awesome, earth-shattering, simple truths He brought close to my heart. God is. God can. I'm praying that, in the coming days and weeks, He'll once again make these truths abundantly, powerfully, sweetly plain in Wilbourns' life as well.

My Three Precious Little Peoples!

2011-11-04T15:06:00.000-04:00

October School Recap

2011-11-02T14:53:00.001-04:00

Meg in one of her favorite hide-out spots under her desk.

So here's a tour through our October school adventure. (This is obviously another post that is mostly for my own benefit, but maybe the grandparents will be interested too.) I can't believe we're in our third month already!

In October we...

...enjoyed our first two co-op days with three other families who all have kindergarten- and pre-K-aged kids. On our first day out, we took a nature walk through the autumn woods and logged our findings. Then we made collages with the items we brought home: leaves, berries, nuts, flowers, ferns, pine cones, pebbles and much more. Two weeks later, we about learned about photosynthesis and why leaves change colors when cooler weather and shorter days arrive. We read a great book, Leaf Man by Lois Ehlert (love her books!), and created our own leaf creatures with more gorgeous findings from the great outdoors. (Two of the mommies in our co-op previously taught in the public elementary schools. It was super fun for me to see all of the great organizational skill and "teachery" touches they brought to their lessons. Most inspiring!)

Meg's "Leaf Princess," with dress, hair, and crown--I love this!

...took two field trips. The first one was to Butler's Orchard for their pumpkin festival, and it was pretty much pure fun. We cruised down giant slides carved into a big hill, played in mounds of loose hay and jumped off hay bales, visited with chickens, pigs, rabbits and goats, took a hayride, and got to choose our own pumpkins from the patch. Our second field trip took us to the Montgomery Village Post Office, where we went behind-the-scenes to learn all about what happens to our mail after we drop it through the slot. The postal workers were so kind. I loved learning more about their jobs. (Pics from the Butler's trip below...)

...kept building our "My Body" science projects. Throughout the month we learned about and added bladder, spleen, pancreas, gall bladder, reproductive organs, bones and muscles. (We also learned about cells but, since they are too small to see, they're not pictured on our body cut-outs.)

I'll tell ya, this curriculum has been great for me! I honestly can't remember whether I even learned about the function of some of my smaller organs, like the spleen and gall bladder. (If I did, and I am inadvertently slighting my seventh grade Life Science teacher, Mrs. Burr, she has my sincere apologies. She was a very nice, very patient woman who really helped me love biology, and I do have very vivid memories of the earthworm and frog dissections in her class, among other things!)

...continued learning about very early American history, or rather, the navigators, explorers, and adventurers who first traveled here and started claiming land for their own European nations. We're reading slowly through a lovely, old library book, America Begins, by Alice Dagliesh, and reinforcing some of the names, facts, etc. with the Veritas Press history cards. As Meg will proudly tell you, her favorite history factoid so far is that classic two-liner:

In fourteen-hundred-and-ninety-two,

Columbus sailed the ocean blue.

I wish all history was written in rhyme!

...successfully completed all of our scheduled Saxon math lessons for October. I go back and forth on whether or not the level K curriculum is challenging enough for Meg. She enjoys it, but it's very easy for her, and I'm sure she could handle one step up. Then again, I don't want to miss any of the skills she's getting now and have to fill in gaps later. This level is definitely dead-on for Matthew. And both kids love how all of the work is manipulative-driven and hands-on. My biggest challenge (pretty much daily) is teaching the two of them together. At ages five and four, of course, self-control is one of their weak spots and, for whatever reason, math time seems to be one of the lowest moments of the day in that department!

...continued Spell to Write and Read with Meg. After learning the cursive alphabet and basic phonograms last month, we launched right into some simple spelling and made it through the first 3 lists (or 60 spelling words) in the curriculum. Some days Meggers is easily discouraged (i.e., when she finds she can't write every word perfectly the very first time--mostly related to the logistics of connecting one letter to another rather than lack of spelling know-how), but in reality, she's doing beautifully and is rapidly becoming a much better, bolder, more self-sufficient speller.

This is one of Matthew's "Sticky Mosaics" that he worked on during Meg's phonics lessons this last month. He loooooved these things.

...ripped through The Spettecake Holiday as our Mommy-and-Meg read-aloud. This is a sweet children's novel from 1958 by Swedish author Edith Unnerstad. I picked it up at a used book sale when I was a little girl and have loved it ever since. Now we're about halfway into Frances Hodgson Burnett's The Secret Garden.

...started a new read-aloud-to-Mommy book for Meg: Sarah, Plain and Tall. I was slack in having Meg read aloud this month--think I need to switch where this falls in the day to make sure we get it in!

...got acquainted with both jazz and classical music, listened and danced to some of both, and talked about some differences between the two.

...learned about and created our own color wheels. Played with watercolors, twice. Killed approximately 30 trees with our endless crayonlust. (Like wanderlust, only... with Crayola products.) (Oh, and by the way, we use all of our paper twice, back and front. I'm not really that flippant about killing trees.)

And that's my summary of the Wilcox Home School, October 2011, complete with my stream-of-consciousness, notes to self, parentheticals, and asides!

Another Vote...

2011-10-31T09:12:00.002-04:00

...for the BeeBo Bra from my family.

Meg: Mommy, I can see your belly button.

Me: I know.

Meg: It feels squishy!

Me: It does, doesn't it? Squish, squish! Your baby brother is pushing it right out.

Meg: Yeah. When people see you walking by, they'll say, "There goes Cara Wilcox's belly button!"

Ol' Whatshisname... and Today's Weather!

2011-10-29T12:35:00.003-04:00

Me: Who remembers one of the jazz musicians we learned about?

Meg: Oh! Peter Parker!

Me: Mmmm... yes, well, Charlie Parker, right?

Meg: Oh, yeah! He played saxophone!

Me: Right, he was a saxophonist. Now, Peter Parker...

Meg: Yeah, he's the guy who picked a peck of pickled peppers.

Me: (giggling) No, that would be Peter Piper.

Meg: Oh, yeah!

Me: Peter Parker is the guy who turns into Spider-Man.

Meg: Oh. Right.

* * *

And in other news...

In October! The picture above doesn't do it justice--right now it's really coming down out there! David said this morning, "This is like Michigan!" (Of course, we won't have anything like Michigan accumulations, but still... I don't think I can ever remember snow before Halloween around here.)

A Mommy's Quiet Time

2011-10-28T13:27:00.004-04:00

Last night at a small group meeting, I opened my journal to record a friend's prayer requests. There in front of me was a poignant reminder of the moments I spent with the Lord earlier that morning. This is what I had written:

Thursday, 27 Octo

And (as my oldest daughter entered my bedroom just as my pen rounded off that second "O") that was the entirety of my morning devotional.

Pretty rich stuff, eh?

Funny Man at Dinner

2011-10-20T08:00:00.003-04:00

Our boy cracked us up at dinner last night. There were at least three times when he piped up with an unexpected quip and made us reconsider our words in light of how a four-year old hears them. Unfortunately, I could only remember two of the three exchanges by the time I sat down to capture them, but here are those two, for your reading (and our remembering) pleasure.

Matthew: Mommy, do you wike milk?

Me: Mmmm, not really, buddy. Not any more. Not to drink.

Matthew: Oh.

Me: But I do like milk in things, like...

Matthew: Wike a cup?

Daddy: What did you do in math today?

Meg: We played a game!

Daddy: Cool! How did that work?

Matthew: Not so good.

For the record, the math game was fun and worked fine, but I guess Matthew just saw the opportunity to get in a funny and went for it. It really did make us laugh; here is Dave, expecting an explanation of the game's rules, and Matthew immediately interjects in this VERY somber voice a blanket condemnation of the whole thing. After we had our chuckle, Matthew looked around the table with a very satisfied smile.

"I wike making people waugh," he said.

Esme's Words

2011-10-18T14:08:00.003-04:00

I wanted to capture some more of Esme's vocabulary at this stage, mostly for my own benefit. (For the rest of you, there are some cute pictures from the last three months or so, which is the period when her speech really started to take off.) This won't be an exhaustive list, I'm sure, but at least I can get down some of the frequent and/or memorable words and phrases.

blankie = "gankie"

baby

cute = "coo"

bok-bok (the sound a chicken makes) = "ba-ba"

Mommy, Mom, Mama

Daddy (or sometimes "Maddy")

Meg = "May" (I think sometimes she also uses this sound for Matthew's name)

me (This is a brand new one--she identified the pictures in this post as "Dah me?")

I want

I don't want any

excuse (she's supposed to say this before leaving the table) = "cooz"

one more = "muh muh"

that = "dah"

yes = "yet"

my, mine

dress = "dess"

bottle = "botty"

What are we doing now, Mom? = "Wa-wa do now, Mom?"

shoe

sock = "da"

diaper = "buh-buh"

play = "pay"

I don't know = "dun no!"

keys

home = "hone" (She is constantly asking, "Daddy hone?" Sweet.)

cracker (or cookie, or rice cake, or granola bar) = "kah-kah"

snack = "na"

please = "pea"

thank you = "ga gee" or "tank ee"

vitamin = "bi-min" (short i sound)

bed

night-night = "nie-nie"

down

bye-bye

potty

kiss = "muh"

hug = "huh"

cake (or muffin) = "cay"

spoon (or fork) = "poo"

Dora = "Do-ah"

Boots = "Buts"

Elmo = "Melmo"

Word World = "Wuh-Wuh"

amen

hot

ow, owie

hand = "han"

now

Nana (also what she calls Aunt Lena, and sometimes Grandpop)

read = "wee"

God = "Gah" (She's always pointing to people in our picture Bible and saying, "Dat Gah? Dat Gah?")

Bible = "Bie-buh"

all = "ah" (When we say the Pledge of Allegiance each morning, she always chimes in for the final word.)

outside = "die"

come on = "mon!"

doggie = "goggie"

glasses = "ga-ga"

nose = "no"

phone

pony tail = "puh-puh"

This is our third time watching the miracle of speech development, and I have to say, it is no less fun and delightful to Dave and me than it was with Meg or Matthew. Mmm, how can I treasure these precious baby days enough? It's just not possible!!!

PS: We love her curls.

Grateful Today

2011-10-16T13:36:00.002-04:00

Sunday. What a good day to give thanks to God! And how I hope that each and every day brings me closer to a life that exemplifies "rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances." (1 Thess 5:16-17)

Today, Lord, I am particularly thankful for:

-the knowledge that a ransomed people all over the world gathers this day to worship You, our great Redeemer

-a church family that continues to gather faithfully and expectantly even in the midst of challenge and uncertainty

-Your Holy Spirit, who continues to meet us in our weakness and unfinished-ness

-pastors who keep on loving and laboring during a troubled season

-the gift of beautiful, creative music that lifts our hearts up and helps us to delight in You

-a place to serve and do my small part to advance Your kingdom work

-my husband, his quiet and faithful leadership, his quiet and faithful service, and his bold vision

-a very rare weekend with my sister, her kids, Mom and Dad, and my other sissie

-a little girl who enjoys her cousins so much that she sobbed all the way home after saying goodbye to them

-awareness of growth in compassion and patience toward my children after years of working to put off anger

-growing understanding of who I am in Jesus: cleansed, hidden, united

-two gorgeous fall days in a row

-the beginnings of a show of ravishing autumn colors all the way home from church

-three children napping at the same time

-friends

-the certainty that You will provide grace for tomorrow, in whatever shapes and sizes I need

Patent Pending?

2011-10-13T14:15:00.002-04:00

Not long ago, David and I were getting ready for bed one evening when my darling, darling husband glanced at my abdomen. Gesturing to my baby belly, with its fourth-time-around uber-outie, he remarked, "Pregnant women need bras for their belly-buttons."

Thanks, Babe.

Yeah, would someone please get on that right away? Because I really, really feel that I what I need in this season is another undergarment, preferably something that I have to wrestle with and adjust. The lack of said garment is leaving a deep, aching void in my life, so please... please...

I'm sure that whoever invents the Bee-Bo Bra (apologies to Sandra Boynton and the hippos) is going to have a huge hit on his hands. Or... maybe a huge hit to the schnoz. (Kidding, of course. I would never actually punch anyone. But you know, I really can't vouch for the people at the patent office. You'll just have to hope that none of them are pregnant.)

Apple Pickin'

2011-10-12T08:47:00.002-04:00

My Man's a Guru

2011-10-11T12:22:00.004-04:00

I just watched this video and about died laughing. I know that not everyone who reads here has been married to a church tech guy for (almost) eight years, and not everyone will catch all of the humor packed in to this brilliant little rap. But, seriously, y'all... if you've ever served on a worship team, if you've ever been a pastor or a pastor's wife, if you know anyone who has served or currently serves on a tech team, if you've ever had a conversation of more than five minutes with my husband, if you've ever attended church... EVER... then you owe it to the church-tech gurus of the universe to take 3 minutes and watch this. Soooo true, and soooo funny.

It should definitely grow your appreciation for the men and women who have so much knowledge and power (albeit a somewhat geeky kind of knowledge and power) and yet serve so faithfully and humbly behind the scenes.

Church Tech Gurus of Covenant Life Church: the Wilcox family loves you!

I Don't Want Any

2011-10-09T13:00:00.003-04:00

I haven't ever posted much about Esme's speech development, but she is talking up a storm and just about killing us with her cuteness. Mostly.

One of her favorite new phrases is "I don't want any _____________ (fill-in-the-blank)." As you can imagine, her version is not quite as crisp and clear as an adult's would be. (I won't even attempt to spell it phonetically.) Nevertheless, she gets the point across, as demonstrated by two stories from this past week.

On Monday night, we grabbed a quick dinner at Chick-Fil-A after Meg and Matthew's swim lesson. I claimed a large booth right by the restrooms, so there was a lot of foot traffic by our table. On his way to the men's room, one gentleman tried to chat with Esme, but she only stared. On his way back out, he stopped abruptly and gave Esme a big wave and a booming "Hi!" Startled, she stared at him again, then shook her head. "No," she said decisively. The man graciously smiled and shrugged. When he was gone, Esme turned to Dave and me to declare, "I don't want any, 'Hi.'"

Well then!

On Thursday morning, I was outside with the kids during our recess, and we were playing "camping" in the woods. Esme was a little unsure about our imaginary campfire, hot dog roasting, tents, etc., but when it was time to go to sleep in our "tent," she agreed to come curl up on the ground with me. I started to pretend-snore. You know about how it sounds: "Hggggggghhhhhhhh-shoooooooo... hggggggghhhhhhhh-shoooooooo." After about three of these, Esme lifted her head from its pillowed spot on my belly and looked me straight in the eye. "I don't want any 'shoo.'"

I guess you gotta love a girl who knows what she wants. Or what she doesn't want, in this case.

Saturday Art Lesson

2011-10-08T14:29:00.003-04:00

Around here, school is usually Tuesday through Saturday, since Daddy's day off is Monday. And Saturday is a great chance to give extra time to art and music. Today we learned about the color wheel, all the while enjoying the spectacular autumn weather.

Starting with the primary colors...

...we worked our way slowly around the circle, mixing, mixing...

"Mommy, look at my red-violet. It looks like the inside of a cherry!"

Finished!

(If you want to know why my children have such enormous grins on their faces, it's because they're finding themselves very funny at this moment. Whenever I ask them to smile for a picture, they immediately give me this monotone "Cheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeese," and a glassy-eyed, not-happy-looking, robotic stare. So then I ask them to choose something else to say. Usually, like today, they come out with "trashcan," which I think is their idea of an almost-bad word and therefore obviously hilarious. At least it gets me genuine smiles.)

First Field Trip

2011-10-04T14:53:00.001-04:00

Last Thursday we took our first "real" field trip of the year. We are blessed to be part of a group of families who are all homeschooling kids in the K-through-2nd-grade range. We've all teamed up to plan and attend field trips together--sometimes as many as two per month! It's going to be a fun year.

This first trip was a visit to the Claude Moore Colonial Farm in McLean, VA. It's a living history farm that gives folks a chance to step back to the year 1771 and find out what life was like in colonial America. We attended the Farm Skills Program, where children get hands on experience with tasks that their colonial counterparts might have performed--things like dipping candles, pounding corn, carding and spinning wool, and even playing some 18th-century games.

As we entered the farm, we first encountered the tobacco barn (Meg for some reason always tries to pronounce it to-BOK-o), situated next to the tobacco fields and used as a space for drying the harvested leaves.

This turkey greeted us as we approached the barn. We learned that turkeys were herded through tobacco fields because they devour tobacco worms, one of the greatest threats to this important cash crop.

A closer look at Tom T., in all his glory:

(Personal confession: I HATE the way a turkey's head looks. That particular texture absolutely makes me want to puke.)

Inside the tobacco barn...

And trying to get back outside the tobacco barn, as a territorial goose barred the way (almost causing my oh-so-courageous children to fall apart completely):

After our escape from the poultry, we started larnin' us some farm skills. First, Meg and Matthew and I got to dip our own candles. This station was somewhat of a disaster for my crew--an unfortunate collision of hot wax, delicate skin, very clear expectations of what a "farm" ought to be, and disillusionment. What with one burn and two bad attitudes, (mine being one of the latter), we had some rough moments, and I came closer than I've ever come before to packing my kids up early and going home. Fortunately... God to the rescue. He eventually picked up our pieces, changed our hearts, and let us move on to...

corn pounding!

Did anyone else in my generation (beside fellow Nalle girls) grow up eating the occasional bowl of cornmeal for breakfast? With a pat of butter melting in the middle? Mmmm, I want some. But I'm really glad we never had to do this before we got to eat ours.

Next we got to learn about making fabric. This lady told us about raw wool...

...and showed us how to card some until it was fine and smooth. (No picture of the process, but here's a crummy one of the finished product.)

We then tried to spin the wool into thread using a drop spindle. We failed. But we stopped and took some silly pictures instead! Does that count for anything?

At this point, my kids were more than ready for the station where we learned about colonial-style games and amusements. Meg and Matthew didn't have much luck rolling hoops or playing quoits, but they loved the section that was done up like an 18th-century playground (if there was such a thing). They enjoyed the great rope swing, crude see-saws and a balance beam, a kind of bean bag toss, and this game:

It involved a hoop suspended from a tree branch. The object was to take the "dart" (a long feather weighted at one end by a bit of corn cob) and throw it through the hoop.

(In this picture you can see the feather dart on its trajectory--it's the beige blur near the bottom right.)

This was such a big hit I'm thinking of making one for our yard.

And that was about it for our time at the farm.

Overall, though we definitely enjoyed our visit, I think my kids were a bit on the young side for optimum benefit. I wouldn't mind possibly taking them back when they are eight or nine, more inquisitive, more educated about the colonial era, and more coordinated. (And hey, while I'm describing the ideal, why not when we have Daddy with us too?) I think they would appreciate the whole event even more at that point. It's so neat that small-scale living history places like this exist, and I'm grateful for my friend Debbie, who planned this trip for all of us!

Quote of the Day

2011-09-30T12:20:00.008-04:00

"We saw a boy outside who had just gone to school. Only he went to school instead of being homey-schooled. But then you just wouldn't get to be with your mom all day. It takes your breath away--if you go to school, on the first day it kind of takes your breath away, because you don't get to be with your mom for the whole morning!"

-Meg (in her typical quaint and dramatic fashion)

My daughter uttered these words after a pretty rough morning here, wherein she earlier wished (for the first time since we started this year) that she wasn't homeschooled. I was pretty discouraged. I took this little moment of her pity for the kid who had to be away from his mommy all morning as pure grace. Thank you, Lord, and thank you, Meg, for lifting my spirits with a kind word.

Gravelly Point

2011-09-30T06:00:00.002-04:00

Our family day outing this week took us to Gravelly Point, a park in Arlington with a killer view of planes landing at Reagan National Airport. We had such fun watching the jets come in...

And we brought snacks, of course.

The park was kind of littered up that day, and the strong breeze was blowing the jet-fuel fumes right at us, but the kids couldn't care less. They thought it was great.

I think he's great. (Even when he gives me a fake smile.)

We had the very good fortune (thanks, Lord!) to be there when one of the DC Ducks tour boats came motoring up near the shore. Then we got to watch as it transmogrified...

...into this really funky-looking but nonetheless roadworthy vehicle...

and drove away!

How fun was that to see?!

My three little people wandered down to take a closer look at the site of this amazing morph from sea to land.

While they were there, they found a tree limb. They really wanted to chuck it in the water. So...

that's what we did.

Unfortunately, I didn't get a picture of the moment when wood met water. But suffice it to say that we wrapped up our visit with a very satisfying splash.

All in all, a great family-time idea--and apart from the gas it took to get us there, 100% free! The Wilcox clan highly recommends Gravelly Point... but you don't have to take my word for it.

"He can be trusted in everything."

2011-09-28T21:33:00.000-04:00

For the Lord will rise up...
to do his deed--strange is his deed!
and to work his work--alien is his work!

...Does he who plows for sowing plow continually?
Does he continually open and harrow his ground?
When he has leveled its surface,
does he not scatter dill, sow cumin
and put wheat in rows...?

...Dill is not threshed with a threshing sledge,
nor is a cart wheel rolled over cumin,
but dill is beaten out with a stick,
and cumin with a rod.
Does one crush grain for bread?
No, he does not thresh it forever;
when he drives his cart wheel over it
with his horses, he does not crush it.
This also comes from the Lord of hosts;
he is wonderful in counsel
and excellent in wisdom.
Isaiah 28:21, 24-25, 27-29

I read these words during my time with God this morning, followed by this note in the ESV Study Bible:

"God's dealings with his people, though 'strange,' are wise. Like a farmer, God knows that the upheaval of plowing has its appointed season and purpose, and that the refining of harvested grain must take into account the desired outcome. Even so, God uses all the methods of perfect wisdom in working with his people. He can be trusted in everything."

As I look around at the lives of friends and family members, I often consider the varied trials and tests that God has brought them. I often wonder why He sees fit to use such very different means in different lives. Why does one woman have such severe sickness during her pregnancy? Why do some couples wrestle through such deep struggles in their marriages? Why did that family lose a child? Why such extended, repeated trials in that person's journey? Why this season of difficulty for these individuals? And why the particular challenges, and not others, that God chooses for me?

The passage above so comforted me with the realities of God's perfect wisdom and knowledge. He created each life. He knows the purposes for which he made it. He understands the best way to bring His will to pass. He's a wise farmer who knows how to obtain a good harvest from every crop he plants. And in his love, he does nothing needlessly. Every single action He takes has its good purpose and perfect time.

In short, as the study note says, "he can be trusted in everything."

Dear Father, help me to trust you even as I observe and participate in your works that seem strange, alien and mysterious. And bring us quickly to the day when the harvest will be complete and all good fruit revealed at last.

Summer Catch-Up: Sesame Place

2011-09-25T13:00:00.005-04:00

Through the unexpected generosity of some very kind friends, we were able to take our kids to Sesame Place for a final summer fling late in August. Dave and I are huge roller coaster fans, so it was fun to get to get our kids' toes wet in the thrill-ride scene. My midwest man has dreams of taking the whole crew to Cedar Point (i.e., "The Roller Coaster Capital of the World") in Ohio when they're all old enough to handle the big dogs.

(Sesame Place, for anyone who might not know, is a Sesame Street-themed amusement park geared toward little people; I'd guess the prime ages would be about three to eight, though there are a few things older kids might enjoy as well.)

We had a gorgeous day for our trip to Philly! I think it was in the high 70's all day. We made it to the park around 11 a.m., and the training opportunities started right away, as we stood in line for our very first rides! It's tough, when you're three years old (or five, or one), to understand why you have to wait for something that's right there in front of you. It's even tougher to understand why you still can't get on the ride, when you've already waited patiently, and the line started to move, and you got closer and closer to the entrance, and you came so, so close... so close that you are actually the first person not to make it on this round! So we had some tears, and we had some public fits, and we had a mommy and daddy with some opportunities to be sanctified that day. But overall, it was a great memory-maker. (And the first two lines that we stood in were the longest of the whole day.)

I skipped most of the rides, tame as they were, since all of them have dire warnings about people with "serious medical conditions," such as pregnancy. (Soapbox warning: Um, hello? Thanks for lumping the pregnant women in there with the heart conditions and the neck braces! I do not have a medical condition--I am carrying a new life!) But it left me free to get some pictures, so I didn't mind too much.

Here's my little crew on Grover's World Twirl (i.e., tea cups!):

Esme on Ernie's Bed Bounce (basically an open air moon bounce):

Despite her nonplussed expression, she really loved this and refused to come off when her time was up. Twice.

As a matter of fact, Esme--dauntless third child that she is--loved almost everything that she was allowed to ride and mourned all day over the ones for which she was too small. (Especially Elmo's Cloud Chaser, better known as the swing ride.) There was one ride, however...

...that she didn't love so much. Blast Off. Esme was desperate to ride, since Daddy and the big kids were going. And surprisingly, there was no minimum height requirement, as long as you were with an adult. Against my better judgment, I let her go. Before it started, she looked like this:

But as soon as Blast Off lurched into motion, I knew I should have heeded that mommy intuition. I can still see the startled look on her face. It was somewhere between "This is not what I bargained for" and "I think I'm going to be sick." Poor baby. Stupid mama. But... she survived. With only minimum of wailing. And hopefully no lasting neck damage.

(Esme also did not like getting too close to the Sesame Street characters. Take a close look at the first picture of all of us with Bert and Ernie.)

Meg's encounter with Zoe:

And this one pretty much sums up what Matthew thought about the day.

At one point I attempted to get a decent shot of everyone together as they waited in line.

Nope.

Uh-uh.

And... still nope.

Oh, well!

We ended our day with a very late dinner at a local Cheeburger Cheeburger, where I snapped a few last pics.

After dinner (we left the restaurant at 9 p.m.), we changed the kids into their jammies, strapped them into their carseats, hit the road, and watched as total exhaustion overtook them, one at a time. Within about 15 minutes, they were all asleep, and they slept allllll the long ride home. At almost exactly midnight, we were back at our own front door. We transferred our comatose kids to their beds, and soon Mommy and Daddy were fast asleep too!

I Call Zees One... 2

2011-09-24T09:12:00.002-04:00

Get out your French accent again. Got your mental beret pulled down over one ear? Now purse your lips dramatically and say:

I call zees one...

He is So Cute, I Die

Homeschool, Baby!

2011-09-23T12:01:00.004-04:00

Unbelievably, we are close to wrapping up our fourth week of school here in the Wilcox home. I can't quite believe it! I have to say that, so far, we are all really loving it. Granted, we've had our share of rough days and some super rough moments, but I think the overall feeling about school continues to be joyful excitement. Grace!

So here's some random info about our school-life to date:

-We started the school year (on Wednesday, August 31st) by diving into a whole new daily schedule that is much more structured than anything I've attempted previously. It's kind of a mash-up of ideas gleaned from Managers of Their Homes (thank you, Jonalee!) and a conversation with our friends the Cowans, who are veteran homeschoolers and just generally fabulous folk. Our morning is broken down into half-hour segments, and we're keeping it lively by doing a little bit o' chores in the bedrooms, a little bit o' breakfast on the main floor, a little bit o' school in the basement, a little bit more chores all over the house, a little bit more school in the basement... and you get the idea. The kids are absolutely thriving on this routine, and even I--the ultimate "I-hate-being-tied-down-to-a-rigid-schedule" free-spirit type--am really enjoying it, and finding it relatively easy to let the schedule flex with the ups and downs of our days.

-Note on the new schedule: besides being empowering and encouraging, it's also exhausting! Third trimester approacheth (I'm 24 weeks tomorrow), and when I picture myself two to three months from now, hauling my huge belly up and down the stairs 17 times a day and hopping from child-sized chair to my feet to the floor and back up to my feet and then back to the chair... well, it's a little overwhelming. But I guess there'll be grace when I get there. Aaaand... probably some naps.

-Here's a picture of our little school nook. Please pardon the bedpost in the frame--our basement also serves as our guest room, entertainment room, and exercise room, and the only way I could get a wide enough shot was by climbing on the spare bed...

How's that for color overload?

-This is our days-of-the-week and weather chart, which we update every morning during Circle Time, our official school-day kick off.

-Our alphabet wall, one of last year's big preschool projects:

-Meg showing off her "My Body" science work to-date:

-Here's a slightly more close-up view of Matthew's "My Body." So far we've learned about the brain, heart, kidneys and bladder. And our son no longer confuses his organs with vegetables.

-Speaking of Matthew, he's doing great with "pre-K," as I've designated it. My plan was to have him hang out with Meg for as much of her kindergarten work as he could handle, let him participate as much as he was willing, but not push anything. Basically, that leaves him doing everything Meg does except for portions of language arts, like handwriting and the actual reading. I don't do as much oral quizzing with him as I do with Meg, but every now and again he pipes in with an answer and lets me know he's tracking with at least a big portion of what we're doing.

-Meg is LOVING her phonics and handwriting work. She's learning cursive, and I took pictures of her first and second days of work as compared with today, her 14th day.

First two days:

Today:

Big progress!

I'll end there, but hopefully we'll get to update about school again very soon!

Matthew's Favorite Gift

2011-09-17T18:39:00.002-04:00

The pictures from the evening of Matthew's birthday turned out pretty lousy, but I have to at least share these shots of his favorite present. He's been asking for this one for a loooong time, lemme tell ya.

Yep, it's a Spider-Man suit, complete with large, fake muscles. And if Matthew was allowed to wear it every waking moment, he absolutely would. Actually, he's already asked if he could wear it to bed too. (Denied.)

By the way, Grandpa Don and Grandma Jan: the shark-themed Hot Wheels race track has been a BIG hit. Both Matthew and Meg are unendingly entertained by the shark's smart-mouthed comments to the cars. Let's just say you may be glad you left before it was opened... I'm not sure whether or not you would have enjoyed the wild giggling it produces. (Fortunately, I do. So far.)

Warmer-Upper

2011-09-15T22:45:00.002-04:00

So, at our small group's monthly ladies' meeting, I always ask a fun question to start the evening. I call it a "warmer-upper." You know--like "ice-breaker," except less cliche (in my snobby little mind, at least).

Tonight's question was: What is one (non material) gift or talent you wish you had but don't?

My answer: I wish that I had a great eye for interior decoration. I'm very content with our cozy little nook of a house and generally don't feel a desperate need to improve it aesthetically, but every now and again I walk into someone's house and just think, "Wow. This is really amazing. It must be nice to know how to do this."

My second answer (prompted by someone else's wish that she could be a runner and look good running): I wish I had goddess legs. I know--how superficial, right? But I have three "best friends" from different seasons of life (high school, college, and ever-since-college), and all three of them have, like... swimsuit model legs. Me? I have thick ankles and quads that won't tone no matter what I do. Oh, and cellulite. So, yeah, I think it would be sweet to have great stems. Maybe in Heaven?

"There never yet was a great saint..."

2011-09-15T14:21:00.004-04:00

Another soul-strengthening quote via John Knight's blog:

Suffering is a part of the process by which the children of God are sanctified. They are chastened to wean them from the world, and make them partakers of God's holiness. The Captain of their salvation was made perfect through sufferings, and so are they. There never yet was a great saint who had not either great afflictions or great corruptions. Philip Melancthon said it well: "Where there are no cares, there will generally be no prayers."

I share this quote, not necessarily because I have hopes of being a "great saint," but because I long to be a faithful one. As yet, I would never say my afflictions have been great, but I certainly know my own great corruptions. Thanks be to my Abba, who works all things for the good of those who love him and are called according to His purpose; I would rather have my share of cares and constantly be drawn back to Him in prayer than to have a care free life.

And Matthew Is Four!

2011-09-14T16:05:00.004-04:00

At two or three something this morning, our Matthew turned four years old. (Fortunately, we were all still asleep.) Here's the first half of his birthday celebration in pictures... second half (post extra-long, donut-sugar-crash-induced naps) to follow.

"Matthew, say, 'I'm four!'" "I'm foooooooooour!"

Esme Is Two!

2011-09-12T14:50:00.002-04:00

Look at this child. Would you just look at her?

Is she adorable?

Because I think she's adorable. Like, seriously.

I also think she's two years old. Scratch that. I KNOW she's two years old, 'cause I was sort of there when she arrived on September 8, 2009. And last week marked September 8, 2011, which means... my baby's really not such a baby any more.

But she is sweet. And silly.

She's getting pretty spunky too--she's no longer quiiiite the docile and helpless little thing who used to take whatever her older siblings dished out. She's definitely entered the realm of the two-year old: strong opinions, clear "no's," a definite sense of what's "mine," an occasional tantrum, etc.

At times I'm tempted to use the word "feisty" to describe her. But you should see the sweet kisses she gives each one of us at bedtime.

Esme has a bit of mischief in her, but she also has a lot of nurture.

For quite some time, one of her favorite things has been pulling baby wipes out of their container. Now? She still does it, except that she just takes two or three instead of 17. And when I come in and find her with a package of wipes, she looks up at me with a sweet, hopeful face and says, "Buh-buh. Buh-buh." (Diaper.) And then I notice that she has her baby doll out and is diligently wiping its little bottom, preparing to wrap it up in one of her own diapers, which will completely mummify poor dolly.

It's hard to correct her for disobedience in moments like that.

Esme Rose, I don't think you have any idea how much joy and delight you continue to bring your family, and especially Mama and Daddy. Your hugs, cuddles and kisses are some of our favorite moments in a day. Your laughter at Meg and Matthew's antics and your determined efforts to keep up with them make our hearts smile. And your funny combination of independence and clinginess continue to puzzle us... but we'll take the cling while you still want us close. Our hearts' desire is that you may grow up to serve the Lord Jesus with all of your sweet and spunky self! We love you, Beauty.

I Call Zees One... 1

2011-08-25T14:41:00.004-04:00

I'm going to start a new series of posts called "I Call Zees One...". If I was normal, I could call it "A Picture I Never Posted" or something clear and straightforward, but... I don't feel like it! Anyway, this series will allow me to share some of the random shots that don't fit into other posts. And it will give you a chance to practice your heavy French accent, as you should always do when you read the words "I call zees one," as well as whatever caption I put under each photo. Seriously, if you're reading this, I want you to get ready to be a really intense French artiste about to unveil his latest masterpiece to a hushed and expectant crowd of wine-sipping intellectuals. Make you sure you include some dramatic pauses.

Ready? OK.

I call zees one...

Esme with Hummus.

See? Way more fun than "A Picture I Never Posted."

More Vacation Pics: Lake City

2011-08-19T15:59:00.002-04:00

The only outings we did while in Merritt were to nearby Lake City, a cute little town with a great coffee shop, a sweet ice cream stand, and a small slice of beach just perfect for a family day trip. The first morning we went was b-e-a-u-t-i-f-u-l. Perfect weather, perfect, non-threatening beach for little people. They could get right into the water and go way out, since there were no waves. (Being a born and bred East Coaster and a dedicated Atlantic Ocean girl, I actually prefer the majesty, power, and noise of the big waves, but it was nice to be able to let down my guard and not worry about children getting knocked down, swept away, or half-drowned by a breaker.)

Little-known fact: my husband is an expert stone skipper. The first couple of yards of the lake floor were pebbly, so Matthew had the chance to take some lessons.

Plunk!

Meg had a great time ~~bossing~~ working with Grandma on a sand village.

Beautiful beach baby!

At Uncle Don's Memorial Service

2011-08-16T14:20:00.001-04:00

(My apologies to those of you who may have seen an earlier draft of this post a few days ago. I accidentally hit "publish" when I was still in process, and I'm sure what I had at that point totally confused anyone who subscribes via a blog reader.)

On Friday morning I drove to Taylorstown, VA with my dad, mom, and sister Lena. Taylorstown is a tiny hamlet that lies somewhere between Leesburg and Lucketts, and it's the home of Mt. Pleasant United Methodist Church, where Uncle Don loved and served for... somewhere between 40 and 60 years, I guess it has to be. Don's church family did a wonderful job of hosting the day's events. They showed up in force to honor Don at his memorial service, and they pulled out all the stops with a truly Southern, small-church-style, delicious potluck lunch for all of the mourners. (Don would have called this "the big feed." We had fried chicken, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, baked beans, pasta salads, creamed vegetables, gelatin salads, rolls, a whole table laden with cakes and pies, huge vats of sweet tea, and more... with not one leafy green in sight. Quote from my dad as he was filling his plate: "This is MY people! I want to taste everything!")

In this post I have attempted to capture some of the meaningful moments from this day of celebrating Uncle Don's life and mourning his death. I have tried to remember the exact words that people used as they honored Don, but I am sure that some of my "quotes" (in Italics), are really more like paraphrases. I was so grateful to be able to hear from so many people who knew and loved Don Fry. He truly was, to borrow a phrase that he might have used, "somethin' else."

* * *

The Nalle clan was in pretty rough shape that morning, and our primary contribution to the service was the sound of sniffling. However, I was so grateful that my dad pulled it together enough to share a bit of what Don meant to our family. I don't remember many of his thoughts, but I know I lost it when he said:

The affection that flowed between Nancy and my girls and Don would be hard to overstate.

When Don was still a young man, he served in the Korean War. Many years later, for the last three years of his life, his church retained Pastor L, a man from Seoul, Korea, who spoke the following words as he presided over Don's memorial service:

Without men like him, who fought for the independence of my country, I would not be here today.

Uncle Don had a great sense of humor and never hesitated to express himself in the plainest of words. I was so grateful that his cousin's wife, N, told this funny story, even while her husband C sat silently weeping for his life-long friend and kin.

Don was at the gas station one morning when a man who was lost stopped by to ask for directions. Wherever he was trying to go must have been pretty far away, because I guess Don couldn't tell him. The man looked at Don and said, "Seems to me like you don't know very much." "Maybe so," said Don, "but at least I ain't lost."

One of the best tributes at the service was written by K, a man who was much like a son to Don. K's wife delivered his tribute in a trembling voice that clearly explained why K didn't attempt to speak on his own behalf. Here are some bits and pieces that I remember.

He smelled like fish in the summer and foxes in the winter, and I thought this was the greatest thing in the world... I started trapping and fishing with him... every time I see a fox now, I'll think, "You're one of the lucky ones." ...Don saw things in wildlife that most people will never have a chance to see... My father died when I was still pretty young. No words were spoken, but Don stepped in as a father figure... When we had [my son], guess who was the first one at the hospital? Don. And when we had [my daughter], guess who was there first again?... He was the greatest man I ever knew.

Don served as the superintendent of Mt. Pleasant's Sunday School for the last 40 years of his life, and he taught a class for even longer--no one seemed to know exactly how long. It was so sweet to hear women who are now in their 50's recounting fond memories of their school days in Don's class. They even told how their hungry, teenage tummies started what became one of Don's famous traditions--arriving early for class each week so that he could prepare pancakes for his students in the church kitchen.

After the graveside portion of the service, which included the painfully moving military honors (folding of the flag and playing of Taps), we returned to Don's church for a lunch reception. When we first reentered the building we passed the sanctuary, where they were playing a slideshow of Don's life. They showed it at the viewing on the previous night, and now they had it on continuous play so that people could drop in and enjoy it whenever. I sat across the pew from one of Don's fellow church members, who shared this anecdote about how Don continued to serve his church faithfully, even as he began to suffer from the effects of cancer and cancer treatments. (This was about as close to complaining as Don ever got.)

He would still be one of the first in the church on Sunday mornings. I would come in, and he would be making his pancakes [for his Sunday School students], and I'd say, "How are you, Uncle Don?" And he'd say "Not worth a nickel! But I'm here."

Possibly the highlight of the whole morning, for me, was when one of Don's Sunday School students shared a brief but very eloquent tribute. I'd guess that this young man was about 17 years old, and I believe he said that he had been in Don's class for eight years. In just a few sentences, he told how Don's love for the Bible had impacted his life, and he closed with these words:

His teaching is what makes me able to bear his loss well.

* * *

My dear mother-in-law sent me an email wishing us her kind condolences. "He certainly," she wrote, "must have been a giant of a man."

I know that Don would scoff if he heard those words spoken of himself. I can hear him now: "Shoot! I ain't much! Just a simple old country man." And of course, that's exactly what he was. But Don proved beyond the shadow of a doubt that even the simplest life, well-lived, can cast a giant shadow.

Don Fry won't be forgotten soon by any of us who knew and loved him.

First Face Paint

2011-08-13T09:41:00.004-04:00

My husband has been working some cuh-razy hours since we got home from vacation. Worship God, the bienniel Sovereign Grace Ministries conference for musicians and worship leaders, wraps up today. I pray that my David is still standing when the dust settles. I think he's going to need to sleep for two days straight to even begin his recovery process.

Anyway, since we haven't really seen Daddy at home much, on Thursday we went to see Daddy at church. (Funny: we arrive in the church lobby, and I'm charging through there, so excited for the kids to see Dave. We get to the auditorium door, and there he is--just a few yards away--and I'm waiting for the kids to take off running toward him. Esme does, but the other two are frozen at my sides. I look down, and they are both bawling, screaming, "The music is too loud!" The band that was leading worship that night was rehearsing, and... well, it was on the loud side. Remind me not to take these kids to a rock concert any time soon.)

But this was supposed to be a short post.

After our visit to Dave I took the kids to Chick Fil A for dinner. Unbeknownst to us, our local franchise was celebrating its 10th anniversary this week, and they had hired a face painter to be there for the whole evening. So guess what we looked like when we left?

A princess...

A spider...

And a cute baby.

(Esme very much wanted to sit in the decorated director's chair that the face painter had for all the kids but, once there, she declined to be painted.)

And the restaurant manager came out just before we left and handed out "mini moos" (little stuffed cows clad in fire-fighting gear) to all the kids. Suffice it to say that the kids thought it was a great night!

First Homeschooling Funny

2011-08-10T21:30:00.000-04:00

Even in the midst of sorrow, my sweet little people keep bringing me reasons to laugh...

I spent much of last week getting ready for our first year of in-earnest homeschooling. This week the first pieces of curriculum that I ordered starting rolling in, including a little booklet we plan to use for science, My Body, from Teacher Created Resources. (I am super excited about this one--thanks for the idea, Kel!)

When it arrived, Matthew pulled the book out of the package and examined it for a moment.

"Hey," he exclaimed, "he has vegables on his body!"

Of course, I took the opportunity to acquaint him with the word organs, but from a three-year old's perspective...

...mmm, yep, I can see vegetables.

A Timely Word for My Soul

2011-08-10T10:06:00.005-04:00

I read this on John Knight's blog this morning and found it so encouraging.

An excerpt:

"Are not all painful things and most grievous labors gladly to be endured for joy everlasting? Yes, truly. Its is no little thing to win or lose the kingdom of heaven."

-Thomas a Kempis

Uncle Don

2011-08-09T17:12:00.002-04:00

My Uncle Don is at Home. I don't know much detail yet, but it seems that the doctors put him on morphine sometime during the night, and he passed peacefully today.

These two pictures are from our last visit to his house in Lucketts, VA. It was just a few months ago, on a very windy afternoon in April.

Actually, it was the kids' only visit there. I'm so glad they got to go once, at least.

These are from Fourth of July 2009, I think. Uncle Don with Lena...

...and churning ice cream that same day, with Grandpop, who preceded Don to Heaven by three months and a day.

And one of my very favorite pictures ever--Uncle Don holding Meg, Mother's Day 2006.

This picture captures so many things that I cherish about Don. The weather-beaten skin of a true outdoorsman. The work-worn hands. The ever-present flannel shirts and cap. And the amazing, tender love for children in a man who never had any of his own.

Many tears today, with many more to come, probably. I keep thinking how blessed I am to be part of a family where a great uncle was more than an acquaintance, where his death is truly, as my mom put it, "a terrible loss." Please pray for my Gran, Sharon, if you would be so kind. Despite the assurance that they are both with Christ, the loss of husband and then brother in one summer is pretty stunning. Please ask God to make His nearness very real to her.

Thanks for reading.

"It's Love that wrote the play"

2011-08-08T21:49:00.002-04:00

Life is tough.

Tonight and last night I've found myself sobbing over the sadness that I find all around me. Parents lose their babies. Marriages fall apart. Churches struggle--sometimes they hemorrhage or break apart altogether. Families grieve as loved ones suffer wasting disease. Young women pour out their lives on ground that can only yield them pain and despair. People are broken. Saints die.

My Uncle Don, my great uncle, is dying of cancer. He's my dad's mother's brother, my sweet Gran's only sibling, and... oh, God, is he a precious life. I can't even begin to do him justice. Does it help you understand if I tell you that he had 22 visitors today? Twenty-two people who love him came and saw him... in one day. And that won't stop, either. He's headed for the palliative care (hospice) wing of the hospital tonight and, boy, those nurses better get themselves ready for the crush, because Don Fry is in the house, and he comes well loved.

As I cry tonight, and think of the grief and the pain and the confusion that seem to be all around me, this song keeps playing in the back of my mind:

"It is Love who mixed the mortar

And it's Love who stacked these stones

And it's Love who made the stage here

Though it looks like we're alone

In this scene set in shadow

Like the night is here to stay

There is evil cast around us

But it's Love that wrote the play..."

-David Wilcox (no relation)

I know it's not Scripture, and I wouldn't necessarily recommend the whole lyric as a treatise on God's sovereignty. But it does bring me comfort tonight, because it reminds me Who is really in charge of this messed-up world, even when all appearances are to the contrary. Love--Christ--has been here. Love is at work. He is the unseen director. He wrote the story. He will reveal the ending, in His perfect time.

He loves Don Fry. He's waiting to welcome him Home with loving arms. He's waiting for me too. Death and evil and brokenness will not have the final word. It's Love that wrote this play.

Cookout in Merritt

2011-08-08T11:52:00.006-04:00

What a treat--one night in Merritt, Grandma and Grandpa prepared a scrumptious outdoor feast for all of us. It was a beautiful evening.

It was our kids' first chance to roast their own hot dogs.

Man, did they ever devour those things!

Meggie took this next one...

"Macho, macho man/

I've got to be/

A macho man"

Oh, s'mores...

"Babe, could you smile for this one?"

One of the bits of news from this trip: Matthew learned to pump! He can now go from 0 to 60 all by himself, without even a starter push. We're super proud of our big boy!

Merritt, Michigan

2011-08-05T22:33:00.000-04:00

So we just got back from our wild and wonderful Midwest tour. We left home early on a Tuesday morning, spent two days traveling to Chicago and the next two visiting family there. Then it was back on the road for the day-long trip to Merritt, Michigan, where Dave's mom and stepdad retired after their teaching careers. We were in Merritt for almost a full week, then we headed west toward Holland, MI, where my husband grew up. After two busy days there, we spent two more days traveling home... and there you have the overview.

Our times in Chicago and Holland were great--busy, full of cousins and aunts and uncles and sun and activity and fun. But I have to say that our time in Merritt was the best time of all. Ahh, Merritt--a tiny, little speck on the map that just barely qualifies for a post office. And Mom and Tom don't even live in Merritt. I mean, their address says Merritt, but it takes a good ten minutes on country roads to get from the post office to their place, and the last two miles are unpaved.

So what's so great about Mom and Tom's place? Well, pretty much everything except for the mosquitoes--which are twice the size of Maryland mosquitoes, brazen, and ravenous. But I digress to the cons. Allow me to make a list of pros:

-40 acres
-almost no neighbors on the surrounding 1,000 acres
-snug, tidy little white house
-screened in porch for eating, playing and afternoon napping
-sumptuous gardens
-the buzz of an occasional hummingbird
-sleepy ponds with overhanging willow trees
-what our children called "jungle"--many acres of ferny, slightly swampy woods
-golf cart to ride on the paths mown through the jungle
-quiet, slow-moving river to visit via golf cart
-a garden fountain
-the two live frogs who hang out in the fountain
-bird feeders that draw goldfinches, house finches, nut hatches, wood peckers, sparrows, and red-winged black birds (Mom calls them "junk birds," but they are pretty)
-baby deer (twins) frolicking around the ponds in the streaming, early morning sunlight
-three graceful lady deer strolling right up to the driveway for a chat and a snack of corn
-determined turtles hauling their moss-grown shells from pond to pond
-great blue herons rising out of the cattails at our approach
-creaky old play set with three swings
-kiddie pool shaped like an orca, with water shooting up from its "spout"
-huge fire pit
-an RV, for extra living space and the endless enjoyment of our children

Did I mention that we barely get cell phone reception there, and that Mom and Tom's dial-up internet connection is flaky? Paradise, I'm telling you. I know it wouldn't be everyone's cuppa, but for this farm-grown girl who finds herself raising kids in bustling, hyper-wired suburbia... Merritt looks almost like heaven for a change.

And I almost forgot the best thing of all about Merritt--the very last thing on my considerable list of pros:

-kind, generous, creative grandparents who love kids and love life

I have a couple of sets of pictures to share, but I'm going to wrap this post with the shots I took of Mom and Tom's lovely gardens, over which they have labored lovingly for the last decade. It sure shows!

(My usual disclaimers apply to these photos--slowly perishing camera, completely amateur photographer, doesn't do her subjects justice, etc., etc.)

Back

2011-08-02T22:14:00.002-04:00

Yep, finally.

Back to the world of blogging after my longest (unplanned) hiatus ever.

Back to the D.C. suburbs after two weeks of family fun and road tripping in the wonderful (very flat) Midwest.

Is anyone still around who wants to read? I won't be surprised if not. But hopefully the catch-up ride will be fun, if you want to come along.

We've got fun pictures to share, adorable antics to relate, a vacation to recount, and... oh, yes, a newish pregnancy to cover. Baby #4 is due in January.

All that and more soon to come...

Grandpop

2011-05-09T22:36:00.003-04:00

My dear grandfather, my father's father, is at home with the Lord, having passed away somewhat unexpectedly yesterday afternoon. His name was Edward Nalle, but he was "Grandpop" to my sisters and cousins and me, "Daddy" to my parents, and "Ned" to his wife and his many friends. There is hardly a man on this earth whom I respect more than I did him. He is--and will be--sorely missed.

I'd appreciate your prayers for my Gran, my uncles, my aunt, my dad, and all of the extended Nalle clan as we grieve.

And if you're interested, my Uncle Rob's family has a sweet, simple tribute to Grandpop here, and another one to my grandparents's loving marriage here. There are pictures too, which are true treasures, as he was not a man who loved the camera.

Quote of the Day

2011-05-06T08:18:00.002-04:00

Meg, to Mathew, about 90 seconds ago:

"You're ruining my whole destiny!"

Looks like it's going to be a memorable day...

Cousins Week, Part 1

2011-04-22T10:26:00.004-04:00

This week we had the pleasure of having my sister's big kids in town while she and her husband packed up their house and prepared for a big move. Dave and the kids and I drove down to meet Jacque and Asher at a halfway point on Monday. And look who we got to meet there, right smack dab in Pole Green, Virginia!

Judah Eliot! He was a perfect little bundle of sleepiness for the too-short time that I got to hold him. Jacqua says that he's gaining weight well, sleeping well, and generally being the great baby they very much need in the extreme busyness of their current season. Thank you, Lord!

It was very sweet: Jacque had warned us that Aylenne might be emotional about leaving her mommy and daddy, so we were prepared for tears, fits, or come-what-may. But as we pulled away with our van loaded full of five occupied car seats, and I encouraged Ari and his little sister to wave and call goodbye to their folks, all that little Aylenne did was crane her neck to see her family's car and sweetly call, "'Bye, Judah! 'Bye, Judah!"

Well, we made it back to my mom's house, where Ari and Aylenne were to spend the night, and the kids enjoyed some water play in the shadows and sunlight of late afternoon.

Why is the toaster smoking?

2011-04-20T15:12:00.003-04:00

Hm, well, maybe because there's a crayon in there along with one of the slices of bread.

Toast anyone? We have butter, jam, or chartreuse wax.

Sister Pix

2011-04-18T12:00:00.003-04:00

Matthew Says...

2011-04-17T15:35:00.000-04:00

Q: What do all of these words have in common? (Beside the fact that spell-check doesn't recognize them.)

Ike

Unch

Ook

Ightning

A: They share a preliminary "L," which our son does not pronounce. In fact, he doesn't even seem to realize that he's omitting an often-critical consonant. Dave regularly gets a laugh out of Matthew's oblivion by baiting him shamelessly...

Matthew: Daddy, my eg hurts.

Dave: Your egg hurts?

Matthew: Yeah. No, my eg.

Dave: Where is your egg, buddy?

Matthew: Right here. My eg.

Dave: Shouldn't you keep your egg in the refrigerator?

Matthew: (now on the verge of tears, violently gesturing to his thigh) Nooooo, my EEEEG!

One of our long standing favorites from Matthew's vocabulary is the way he pronounces a certain animated race car's name. Ladies and gentlemen, "Ightning Umpeen!"

Or how about "girl," which features that tricky "L" right at the end of the word? Matthew does his best, but his version sounds almost nothing at all like the original, as he ends up with something like "Goo-er."

I find that there's an irrepressible smile on my face as I sit here typing. Oh, how we love our funny little man! And the surge of affection that I'm experiencing right now is one of the primary reasons I maintain this blog.

Honestly, friends, it's challenging for me to love and serve my Matthew much of the time. He's three. He bounces off the walls. He's whiny. He's waaaaay overly emotional. And he's all boy, a phenomenon to which this brotherless mama is still getting accustomed. But sitting here and capturing these sweet, fleeting aspects of his personality and speech stirs up my heart and rekindles my love for him. To me, that's why it's worth doing! It is well worth doing!

Ohhh, but I really need to do an extended video interview with him soon so that some of these cute verbal idiosyncrasies get captured on video as well as on the blog. Because I know that, as soon as I blink a couple of times, he'll be several inches taller than me and using words that I don't even know...

And it won't be because he can't pronounce the letter "L."

A Photographic Anomaly

2011-04-16T15:02:00.003-04:00

This is a picture of me and my children:

Shocking, right? When do you ever see a picture of Cara and all the kids on this blog? I'm wondering if this is the first picture taken of the four of us since this one:

Anyway, back to the first picture: we went to the zoo on Monday, and when I asked if I could take a picture of everyone just before we left, Dave put me in front of the lens instead. And I didn't object. So there you have it!

A Shoe Story

2011-04-08T15:56:00.006-04:00

From an email I sent to my dear mother-in-law earlier this week:

I'm still learning about the vast discrepancies in children's shoe sizes--depending on the brand, your kid might wear any number of shoe sizes at the same time!

Example: on Monday I pulled out a pair of unworn size 11's that someone had given us for Meg.

These 11's

have always been much too big for her, but the day before I noticed that her black Sunday shoes

are also an 11 and are actually beginning to get a bit tight!

So I pulled out these new size 11's,

which Meg eagerly put on, and they seemed fine at home. But by the time we got to Great Falls, we noticed she was walking very slowly and awkwardly to keep them on her feet; they were actually too large and kept sliding off her heels. So we stuffed some toilet paper in the toes and made due for that day!

Today I took her shopping for some spring sneakers. (She left the house wearing her brown Sunday shoes

that I bought her last fall--they are a size 10 and still fit her perfectly.) I had the lady at the shoe store measure her foot, and according to that black, metal measuring thingy with the slider, she should clearly be wearing a size 12 or 12.5! She tried on several pairs of shoes, and the Nikes that we ended up buying (Nikes run a half-size small, according to the shoe lady) were a 12.5!

Meanwhile, those size-11 hand-me-downs

that she tried on Monday will go back on the closet's top shelf until the fall!

And while we're on shoes... look who learned to tie her laces in the 24 hours since we brought these babies home?

Shall we take a closer look at that handiwork?

Great job, Meggers! Mommy's proud of you, Love!

Glorious Great Falls Family Day

2011-04-06T13:52:00.004-04:00

Monday we got to have David all to ourselves for an entire day, and the weather proved absolutely gorgeous. We headed for "The Great Falls," as Meg would say...

I don't think I've ever been there before in early spring. The water was ferocious. Majestic, but scary. I watched my babies very carefully when they ventured near the guardrails to survey the falls.

But actually, all three of them were happiest climbing around on the rocks at the first overlook. It was a 100% natural playground, I tell ya! Miss Esme was feeling extremely independent.

(Matthew was so active we didn't even get a decent picture of him on the rocks! He doesn't stop to pose, like some other people we could mention.)

Okay, so he does pose sometimes...

Here, just to prove that I really was there, is one Matthew took of me.

In this one you can see one of Meg's interesting physical features; she's double jointed in her elbows.

All in all, it was a perfectly lovely, memorable, gift of a family day, and full of promise for many spring and summer days to come!

Meg: An Essay

2011-04-02T15:43:00.000-04:00

I have a little girl. She'll be six on her next birthday. Yesterday I noticed that her cheeks aren't round any more--not even a little bit.

My friend Anne, sitting on our front stoop with me and watching Meg prance around our miniature yard, aptly pronounced: "She's all legs." It's true. Where is the stubby baby who stumbled her first steps into my lap at 15 months? Where is the sweet, pudgy two-year old who went all over the house on tippy-toe? Where has that child gone? She's all gone to legs, ma'am--she's all legs now.

She's also all energy. She likes to sit and read but, man, tell her something just the teeniest bit exciting, and she'll go from 10 to 90 mph in 2 seconds flat. She has no brakes--at least, none that easily can be applied externally. She is out of bed at exactly 6:00 am every morning and--sploosh--head first into the day.

She's physical--so physical. I see signs of the sweet, docile"girlie girl" in her--mostly when there's a book or a coloring project or a game to focus on. That is, she can sit still. But mostly, she doesn't. And that's an understatement.

When we're lying on the guest bed together for our afternoon reading time, and I read her something happy from the life of Laura Ingalls, she writhes, kicks or lunges with pleasure. Sometimes she hurts herself. She couldn't hide her emotions if you threatened her life. We're working on self-control. But I hope she never loses the spark of visceral sympathy that literally makes her heart leap over someone else's joy.

She talks kinda funny. I guess she gets it from me. She says things like, "Mommy, your hair looks a little odd," and "Look, that tree is bursting into bloom!" She uses words like "perhaps" in every day conversation. I could definitely be wrong, but I don't think most other five-year olds do.

Sometimes, if she can't think of the precise word she'd like to use, she just makes one up. You might observe her break off a sentence, then narrow her eyes in thought. "That seems a little... that seems a little sploogie." She'll keep a straight face as she intones her originality, but if you can catch her eye, she'll probably burst out laughing.

Speaking of laughs, she has the loudest, loudest, LOUDEST laugh I know. (Even louder than Lindy Funk from high school. Now that's loud.) There's no mute button. And once she's started a good laughing spree, just try getting her settled down. Really, go ahead and try. I dare you.

She loves people. Oh, how could I even begin to name the people she loves, the ones whose names make her light up and jump up with delighted anticipation? Her family: Nana and Grandpop, Aunt Lena, Grandma Dawn and Grandpa Tom, Grandpa Don and Grandma Jan, Aunt Dacia, Aunt Jacqua, Ari and Aylenne and Baby Judah, cousins Ben, Elijah and Aaron... Her neighbors: Big Jack, Mr. Tim, Gregory, Jasmine, Taylor, the Gruner family, Jessica, Emily, Brian and their grandma, Aurie and Maya, Leah, Noodle the dog... Her parents' friends: Aunt Jessie and Uncle Kris and Uncle Brandon and Aunt Annie and Uncle Spitz and Aunt Mari, and of course all their kids--Jack and Emma and Baby Sammy and Baby Nate and Baby Mateo and... you see why I can't go on with specifics in this vein, but, trust me: if she knows you, she probably adores you, and it would make her day to see you and be able to hug you. That's just who she is.

She loves her Daddy. In the morning when he takes his shower, she sits outside the door and plays, waiting. Once he's decent, she goes into the bathroom and talks with him as he puts in his contacts, shaves, brushes his teeth, etc. Every morning. Sometimes they talk about deep things--God things. Sometimes they talk about silly little girl things. But all of the time, Meg cherishes her mornings with Daddy. And I know that her Daddy does too.

She loves her baby sister. "Awwww!" she says, about a dozen times a day, after Esme does or says something newish, be it ever so small an achievement. "She's so cute!" Of course, I always heartily agree. "Mommy, I love everything about Esme," she's said more than once. May it always be so, my daughter!

She loves her little brother, too. It's different, you know, this love between a sister and a brother. They don't talk about it much. And they certainly aren't always kind to one another. But when they find their rhythm and are playing happily together--ahhhh, Meg is never happier than she is at those times. And no one enjoys more of Meg's laughter--or enjoys Meg's laughter more--than Matthew.

I know she loves me too. It's harder for me to see, for some reason, but it is there--I know it is. It's there when she wriggles with delight when I praise her. It's there when she wants to help me around the house. It's there when she pleads, "Mommy, will you play with us?" Oh, and Meggie, I too often say no, holding cheaply your loving desire for my time, my presence! Oh, Father, don't let me squander the precious, short time I have with this little girl! Don't let me waste it on things that seem urgent and aren't.

See what a treasure she is! A gift from God Himself--a reward, the Psalmist says! Stroking her satin-smooth, no-longer chubby cheek this afternoon, I saw it. I knew it.

Oh, let me not forget.

Daddy Time

2011-04-01T20:41:00.002-04:00

We've been a little short on David around here lately, due to his involvement in our church's youth production of Godspell. Or "God Spells," as my daughter would say. (Come if you can! It'll be Godspell like you've never seen it before! And it's likely to beat the pants off any other high school production you've seen. Or at least, any other high school production that I've seen.)

But we have gotten a few special moments with Dave over the last week or so, and they've been so sweet that I had to capture them.

Here are Daddy and the boy at Cheeburger Cheeburger last Friday. Are my guys handsome, or what?

Post-Cheeburger horsey rides at our place:

Watching a Veggie Tales song on Dave's iPhone yesterday morning (it was funny--hence all the smiles):

My Beloved, you are missed here, but we so appreciate your service to our family and to our church this week! May God continue to be glorified in and through you!

Pictures of Judah

2011-04-01T18:34:00.002-04:00

Jacque and Asher couldn't get pictures of their new boy out right away due to technical difficulties, but I finally have some to share! Just look at this beautiful, little man!

This one totally melts my heart. What a wee, squishy, rolled-up little bundle of preciousness!

I think I love him!

Tied Up

2011-03-24T20:46:00.003-04:00

My mom and dad have six grandchildren, and today we found out for sure: it's all tied up between the sexes. Judah Eliot Spruill was born to my sister Jacque and her husband Asher this morning. That makes it 3 to 3, with Meg, Aylenne and Esme on the girls' side, and Ari, Matthew and Judah on the boys'.

I have no details at all about little Judah yet--no stats, no birth story... just one picture on my cell phone. (And of course, I have no idea how to get it to my computer.) I'm told that Asher says Judah looks just like Ari--which means he looks just like his Great Uncle Eddie--and from what I can see, I must agree.

Sweet Baby Judah, we can't wait to see you! Welcome to the family! You are already a very loved little boy.

Life and Other Huge Messes

2011-03-22T14:21:00.002-04:00

I haven't updated my blog in a month, but that's nothing.

The laundry baskets in my house are overflowing--some with dirty laundry, some with the clean-but-unfolded kind. The unmatched socks drawer is undoubtedly crammed full of pairs... if I could only find the time to match them up.

The powder room floor is swamped with de-rolled toilet paper, courtesy of Esme Rose.

The entry landing is strewn with Craisins and tiny bits of rice cake, courtesy of I-don't-know-who.

The basement looks like a second-hand shoe store exploded in it, from when I started sorting all of our accumulated, hand-me-down, girls' shoes into "too-small for Esme," "too big for Esme," and "not on any child of mine" piles.

The toy room looks like a refresher-course in "obeying means all-the-way" just waiting to happen. Somehow, when I asked the kids to "Put the princess dresses away" earlier today, it seems they must have heard, "Toss them into a big, gauzy heap somewhere sort of near the dress-up box."

The kitchen linoleum is flecked with all kinds of stickiness and grime.

Our master-bath is grody, our bedroom is strewn with items from the still half-packed duffle bag I took to a women's retreat this weekend, our new crop of library books is scattered widely over the living room...

And, outside, the sun is shining. And the weather is gorgeous. And I put it to you: when the stern winter winds finally give way to playful breezes gently wooing us outside, how am I supposed to accomplish anything inside? And why does it always seem that just as I finally have our winter routine down pat, summer arrives to shake me all up and turn me inside-out and upside-down?

Being a little short on answers to life's great mysteries today, I will not attempt to solve my own riddles. Instead, in keeping with the messy appearance of my home, I'll let this be a good, messy post with a bunch of unrelated pictures that have been sitting on my camera for the last month randomly strewn about where a conclusion should be.

Matthew, wearing on his head the bowl that Meg carried around "just in case" during her tummy bug. (Don't worry; it was clean.)

"La, di, da..."

"Oh, hi, Mommy. Um, yes, I know I'm not supposed to stand on chairs, but I, ah... I..."

"Being the baby of the family and all, I just assumed I could get away with it."

Smoochin' my littlest.

When Esme dumped the entire container of foam shapes from Grandma, it made a lovely confetti.

1, 2, 3 little stooges.

Meg's head adorned with the "hair tattoos" Aunt Dacia gave her for Christmas. This was our second go-round with these, and they looked MUCH better this time than the first.

Esme, just awakened from a nap, with some serious sun flare behind her.

Esme, five or eight shots later, just awakened from a nap, with some serious sun flare behind her, telling me, "Enough already with the camera, Mama!"

Mrs. Gruner's meat sauce was a hit!

The Parisian Princess...

...and Popeye.

Matthew Tells It Like It Is

2011-02-26T21:30:00.004-05:00

We had a sick day here today. Meg seems to have a little cold as of this morning; Esme is recovering from a cold and dealing with a stomach bug; I had a mild stomach bug which is still making me drag a bit, and I have a yucky head cold... and probably terrible sinus breath. (You'll need that information in a moment.)

Matthew, some how, managed to stay healthy (today, at least). He also managed to be adorable--not that he has to try very hard--and I had several conversations with him that I wanted to record. You can't say he's not candid!

1:35 pm
(As I'm kissing him at naptime)
Matthew: Please don't kiss me any more, Mama.
Me: Oh, ok, no more kisses?
Matthew: Yeah. Because first you were soft but you smell bad.
Me: Oh, I feel soft but I smell bad, huh?
Matthew: Yeah.
Me: Sorry about that, buddy.

Immediately after this conversation I detoured to the bathroom and brushed my teeth.

6:00 pm
(In the bath tub, speaking sharply)
Matthew: NOOO! Don't go pee-pee in the bathtub!
Me: Yeah, don't go pee-pee in the bathtub.
Matthew: Yeah, I know, I'm telling dat to my [male organ]. 'Cause my [male organ] wants to go pee-pee wight now but I'm telling it not to.

6:20 pm
(As I stare at his cute little face peering out of a towel after bath time)
Matthew: You have beautiful ips! Dey're vewy pink!

He's the only person in the world who would have told me that my chapped and neglected lips were beautiful today. Boy, do I love that kid.

Helloooooo, Beautiful!

2011-02-15T13:30:00.000-05:00

I don't know what the weather was like where you are, but around here, 2.14.11 was a perfect Valentine of a day, from God to everybody. The sky was breathtakingly blue, the temperature hovered around 57*, and the wind blew fresh and cleansing rather than bitter. It was a glorious first taste of spring.

The Wilcox Family delightedly took to the great outdoors, for the first time in many a family day. They set off, scooters and stroller primed for the first of many corporate walks.

The baby of the family hardly knew what to make of such light and warmth. Where was her puffy, green, marshmallow coat? Gone? Replaced by a mere jacket (which pink floral wreaked fashion havoc with her chartreuse hoodie)?

Finding their usual wooded path still snowed over, the family detoured their route, continuing their walk up a steep hill and past rows of town homes. The older children abandoned their scooters to scavenge for "feather plants." With these plumes in hand, they paraded exuberantly along the sunny sidewalk.

The man of the house, leading from the start, cut a fine figure as he perambulated the baby.

(And he also made a rockin' Valentine.)

(The end.)

Saturday Night at Our Place...

2011-02-12T20:40:00.002-05:00

...means three freshly bathed, sweet, soft little people with smiles that light up the whole house.

Meg's Sketch of the Day

2011-02-10T18:04:00.000-05:00

Slightly blurry--sorry--but so adorable.

Quote: The Praying Life

2011-02-08T15:04:00.003-05:00

I'm doing quite a bit of reading lately--such good stuff. It makes me want to share some of the rich tidbits I encounter along the way. Here's one from Paul E. Miller's The Praying Life.

Just before this excerpt, Miller writes about how busy Jesus' life was, how his family even attempted "to stage an intervention because he is so busy." (Mark 3:20-21)

But he loves people and has the power to help, so he has one interruption after another. If Jesus lived today, his cell phone would be ringing constantly. The quest for a contemplative life can actually be self-absorbed. If we love people and have the power to help, then we are going to be busy. Learning to pray doesn't offer us a less busy life; it offers us a less busy heart. In the midst of outer busyness we can develop an inner quiet. Because we are less hectic on the inside, we have a greater capacity to love... and thus to be busy, which in turn drives us even more into a life of prayer.

Happy Little Milestones

2011-02-07T20:12:00.003-05:00

I have nothing earth-shattering to share tonight, but there are a few small things to celebrate...

1. Matthew is potty-training! For real! We first bought him some unders back in the early fall and made an attempt at the transition from diapers to potty. After two days of 100% wet chairs, wet carpets, and wet Woody & Buzz briefs, I was convinced: the kid wasn't ready. We made one more stab a month or so later, at Matthew's initiation, when he received a set of Transformers unders for Christmas. Still no dice. He just wasn't getting the fact that he had to do something different! But at the beginning of last week, he again asked if he could wear his underwear, and after a big pep talk, I agreed. Low and behold... he's ready! I don't know what changed, but we've had a very high success rate for the last seven days. Today he even used some public toilets on our family day outing! Go, Matthew!

2. We finished Genesis! I'm not sure exactly when we started reading through the first book of the Bible during our morning "table time," but we finally finished! We did skip just a few sections: Lot and His Daughters (save that one till they're a bit older), Judah and Tamar (ditto), The Defiling of Dinah (double ditto), and a couple of geneologies. (Oh, and the part where Rebecca and Jacob conspire to deceive Isaac and steal Esau's blessing--but I won't take the time to explain that one here.) This is the second book of the Bible we've completed together. Psalms was the first. (We've also been reading through Proverbs the whole time, but at only three verses a day, that's taking quite a long time.) Meg and Matthew have grown so much in the last few months. They are now much more able to listen quietly and carefully while I'm reading. I'm very proud of them, and grateful to God for His work in their little hearts! And now we're ankle-deep in Exodus...

3. Lastly, Esme is getting all of her teeth at once! That may not be precisely true, but that is how it seems. She doesn't like to let me look (or poke) into her mouth, so I'm rarely sure exactly what's going on in there. However, I'm quite certain that she's been in the process of cutting at least three molars at once, and I believe there's one more. There's also at least one canine starting to push its way through the gum--seems like maybe two. This does occasionally mean some night-waking and some grouchy days, but I actually prefer the all-at-once approach. Matthew's teething took f-o-r-e-v-e-r, and at age 3 1/2, he's just finished getting his lower two-year molars. Top ones still missing.

But at least he's using the potty!

Jesus' Birthday, Part 4

2011-02-04T16:30:00.000-05:00

To close out my series about celebrating Jesus' birthday, I offer this list of a few things that have made our last few Christmases really special. I know that there's nothing super original here, but I always enjoy hearing what others are doing, so maybe you will too!

I love...

-kicking-off our Christmas season with Operation Christmas Child in mid-November: We've had the joy of purchasing Christmas gifts for children growing up in poverty for three years now. Meg did it with us starting two years ago, shopping for gifts for some far-away girl about her age. This year, Matthew joined the fun, shopping for a little boy he will probably never meet. (And much to my surprise, he did great with it!) This year, I was able to prepare the kids by praying with them for the children who would receive our boxes. We did this every day during the week leading up to our shopping trip. We also read stories from the Samaritan's Purse PrayerPoint magazine about how God has used OCC in years past to draw children to Himself. Then we set out for Target--the whole family. We came home, packed up our boxes, and went together to drop them off at a local church. And we recently got an email update from Samaritan's Purse, informing us that our boxes made their way to children somewhere in Peru. Too cool! I can't recommend this ministry too highly. I just love being a very small part of this.

-celebrating Advent in a Christ-centered way: Anticipation is everything. We try to build our kids excitement for Jesus' birthday by spending every evening in December singing about Him, reading about Him, and looking at picture books and nativity scenes that tell His story. I love how eager they are to put the Baby Jesus figure on our Advent calendar. Every night they're hoping that tonight will be the night for Jesus!

-reading the Christmas story every day: I read about a method of Scripture memorization that basically entails just reading a passage over and over again, multiple times a day, until the reader and the listeners start to know it by heart. So this December, during my morning Bible time with the kids, I read Luke 2 to them every day. I don't think anyone really memorized it, but we sure did get well acquainted with it. And the kids did not get bored with the repetition! In fact, they seemed excited to return to the same chapter each day.

-serving together as a family: "For even the Son of Man came, not to be served, but to serve." (Mark 10:45) What better birthday present can we give to Jesus than seeking to be like him, giving our time and strength for the sake of His Kingdom? For our family, with our very little people, serving together usually looks like releasing Dave to spend the whole month at church. At home, we stay busy and pray for Daddy, and for the people who will attend the services for which he's preparing. I look forward to the day when we can all be more hands-on--singing in choirs or greeting guests or maybe... working behind the scenes with the tech teams??

-giving our kids opportunities to get excited about giving: We have much room for growth in this area, but one thing we've enjoyed is helping the kids shop for other members of our family. Two years ago, I started taking the kids on a special shopping trip where they get to pick out gifts for Daddy--anything they want (within a certain price range, since they're spending our money, for now). This year, Dave took them on a second trip to buy gifts for Mommy and Esme. Having something to give during gift our exchanges seems to be quite thrilling for our Meg and Matthew and I love the fact that it breaks them out of "What's next for me?" even for a few moments.

-making a wish list: I keep a running wishlist via Amazon--you know, a list of books and movies and various items that I'd like to own but probably won't buy for myself. But this year, for the first time, when people asked me what I would like, I also started mentioning some of the ministries that I love. "Hey, here's my wish list, but it would also really bless me if you considered making a donation to Compassion International, or to so-and-so's adoption fund." And I can't even begin to tell you what a blessing it was to get a gift like that. It truly was better than a whole mountain of stuff.

And here are some links that have inspired and encouraged me with regard to Christmas:

-Megan offers one way to simplify gift-giving

-An idea for a fun family tradition from Stacy

-How Stacy's family does birthday presents for Jesus

-How and why Ann's family does birthday presents for Jesus

-Sharaya's post on We Are Grafted In about stuff, Christmas, and how her family started "Spend Less/Give More" this Christmas

-My Aunt Julia's post that gave us the idea for our birthday presents for Jesus

-Jonalee's post featuring the Advent Conspiracy videos

-Jonalee's thoughts about Christmas future

-Trinity's family's Extreme Home Christmas

I've no doubt that the world wide web is chock full of many other helpful articles and ideas, but those are the ones that I've found so far.

Lastly, if you've not read Noel Piper's book Treasuring God in Our Traditions, I commend it to you! It's a rich source of wisdom on celebrating Jesus' birthday as well as many other occasions!

And that, my friends, is likely to be the last you'll hear from me about Christmas for quite some time.

Jesus' Birthday, Part 3

2011-01-31T20:35:00.003-05:00

Well, long after most people have retired the Christmas decorations, carols and recollections, I am finally returning to my little series on celebrating Jesus' birthday. Go ahead and call me habitually tardy. At least I can try to finish what I started!

If you read parts 1 and 2, you may remember that Christmas 2010 found us in a unique situation (unique for our family, that is). For starters, we didn't have to travel anywhere on the 25th. For another thing, we had already opened our presents, opting to separate the gift exchange from our celebration of Jesus' birthday.

So what did we do on Christmas Day? Well, with little people, postponing breakfast is never really a smart option. So we started with a simple but hearty morning feast that included rare treats such as orange juice (big hit with the kids) and sparkling apple cider (not so much a hit). During the meal, Dave read us the Christmas story from Luke chapter 2, and the delicious smell of baking cake began to fill the house.

When the food was gone, we cleared the table and piled on the couch for our very favorite retelling of the Christmas story, the gorgeously illustrated This Is the Star. Then it was back to the table for "Happy Birthday, Dear Jesus," blowing out candles, and chowing down on gooey Honeybun Cake (which, though yummy, was so astonishingly sweet that even I, Sweet Tooth Queen, may not repeat it).

Next on the agenda: birthday presents for the King! (We know several different families who approach this in different ways--more on that to come.) When the kids got up that morning, there were four white envelopes on the tree, each dangling from the end of a long ribbon. On each of the envelopes was a name: Daddy, Mommy, Meg, Matthew. (Esme was a little too young to get it this year.) Everybody grabbed an envelope and headed for the computer to visit the Reece's Rainbow Angel Tree for children who are awaiting adoption. In each of our envelopes was a check. And each of us had the chance to choose one child to whose adoption grant we wanted to donate. We wrote notes to the Reece's Rainbow folks to explain our checks. We prayed for each of the children we chose, asking God to send their forever families very soon, and to let them learn to love Jesus. Then Dave and the kids tramped across the street in the lightly falling snow to deposit four envelopes in the outgoing mail.

Before lunch and naps, we watched The Miracle Maker together. This movie is a claymation-like account of Jesus' life, from the beginning of his ministry to his post-resurrection ascent into Heaven. I found it to be fairly well done and quite moving.

During the quiet afternoon, I worked on our first Christmas puzzle, and the kids joined me as they woke up from their naps. Unfortunately, we didn't begin this large jigsaw early enough to complete it on Christmas Day, which was my hope. Oh, well. We'll start earlier next year. (One word of praise for the puzzle itself: I was so happy when I got it! For one thing, Mary and Joseph actually look Jewish! No offense to any art-history lovers, but I really do dislike all the classic paintings of blond-headed Madonnas and babies. And this Mary also looks weary and even a little sweaty, like she just [go figure] went through labor and childbirth! Plus there are lots of cute animal details for kids to enjoy.)

When everyone was awake, we launched another new tradition: our Christmas notebooks. We started with five, bright red, three-ring binders. We decorated them with coloring pages featuring Mary, Joseph, and Jesus in the stable. Then we had everybody answer two questions each: What is your favorite thing about Advent and Christmas this year? and What do you love most about Jesus? Meg was able to write down her own answers this year; Matthew dictated his. Then we had Meg draw a picture of anything "Christmas"--her choice. She chose the shepherds.(Matthew's attention span was shot after the questions.) Then we clipped the questions and answers and the picture into our binders. We're hoping to do this every year, and watch how the answers to those same two questions change and expand and nuance as we all grow in our love for Christ.

We ended our very merry Christmas with Daddy's favorite dinner--lasagna--since we don't know what Jesus' birthday meal of choice would be. Then we turned out all the lights except for the Christmas tree and listened to Mr. B's rendition of the Christmas Story, courtesy of the GirlTalk ladies. Our kids just loved this. And it was great to end the night dancing and goofing off to Mr. B.'s "Christmas Boogie." (Funny side note: Mike Bradshaw/Mr. B used a little ditty called "Born on Christmas Day" to tie his story together... this is actually a modified version of a song that my mom wrote for my preschool Epiphany program circa 1984. And I bet Mr. B doesn't even know the fascinating historical trivia behind his theme song!)

So... that was our Christmas. And what did we make of having an entire day dedicated wholly to celebrating Jesus' birth and life... and doing very little else?

I can honestly answer that it was one of the most enjoyable Christmases I've had. Now, it definitely felt different than a day with presents. At some point in the day, I did have the thought, "I don't know... does this feel like Christmas?" And then I thought, "I don't care!" The thing is, I want our Christmases to exalt Jesus more--and that should feel different. It's going to feel different, especially at first, and especially to someone like me, who's been doing the American Dream version of Christmas for 30ish years now.

Life is full, after all. There are enough people, activities, traditions, questions, ideas, tasks, demands and opportunities to keep us busy for more years than we have to live. Our hearts and minds are full. Our calendars are full. And for us, Christmas Day was very full. We really didn't have space for more of Jesus unless we were willing to get rid of something else first.

So, yeah, it felt a little weird to set presents aside, and to postpone our time with extended family. It even felt a teeny, tiny bit sad. But it also gave us the space we needed to delight in Jesus Christ more fully this Christmas. And it might, just might, have given our children a truer sense of the glory and mystery of Christ's coming. And that would be worth a little bit of sacrifice.

Wouldn't it?

(Stay tuned for a final post with links and practical ideas that have helped, inspired, encouraged and provoked me as I've thought about celebrating Christmas.)

NOT a Happy Baby

2011-01-26T20:00:00.003-05:00

Does anyone know that lilting, little ditty "Goin' Courtin'", from Seven Brides for Seven Brothers? I have a (slightly) modified version of it that I've been singing to my kids for several years. My version only has two words. Every time you would ordinarily sing the words goin' courtin', you substitute the words happy baby. And for all of the words in between the goin' courtin's, (which, if you are like me, you do not know anyway), you just sing doo-dee-doo-dee-doo-dee-doo-dee-doo. Sing along with me now:

Happy baby, happy baby
doo-dee-doo-dee-doo-dee-doo-dee-doo
Happy baby, happy baby
doo-dee-doo-dee-doo-dee-doo-dee-doo
Doo-dee-doo-dee-doo-dee-doo-dee-doo
Doo-dee-doo-dee-doo-dee-doo-dee-doo
Happy baby, happy baby
Happy Baaaa-bee

(If you are confused, I will gladly perform my masterpiece for you on request.)

All this to build up to the fact that I have NOT been singing the Happy Baby song to Esme this week. Um, ear-infection, anyone? Um, grumpiness, anyone? And even more clingy, fussy clinginess than usual? Yup.

After almost a week of Cranky Baby, I needed some visual reminders of who my littlest sweetheart is when she's not afflicted with ear pus. (Sorry.) So today I am posting some pictures of Esme from happier days of yore. (And by "yore," I mean anything before last Friday.)

Did I mention that these pictures all feature my biggest Sweetheart and True Love as well? He's so good to his Cranky Baby. (Oh, and he's great with Esme too.)

Meggie Boo

2011-01-25T22:45:00.001-05:00

Who is our Meg--our long-legged, five year old girl--becoming?

Inventive...

Meg is increasingly into "realistic" drawing, but she still often gravitates toward scribbling, piling lots of colors on top of each other, and creating more abstract artwork like this piece.

Fashionable...

Meg and Matthew both sport outfits styled by Meg in the above shot. Apparently, they were "being super heroes." I guess the shirts tied over the shoulders a la '80's prepsters are supposed to be capes?

Unconventional...

Meg very rarely colors in the way I expect--it's always a blue face and orange arms and purple hair and a yellow dress, or a red face and green hair and a pink dress... Whether this is standard or unusual for someone her age I don't quite know (or care), but her choices intrigue me.

Girly...

I recently treated Meg to a home mani/pedi session with her new, purple nail polish from her Christmas stocking. Anyone who has not raised a little girl could never believe the excitement and joy this event generated. And, no, this wasn't the first time I painted her nails.

Observant...

I love this portrait Meg recently drew. Don't know if you can read her caption, but it says "Matthew and Curious George." There are some notable resemblances between her subjects and their real-life counterparts.

Motherly...

A few months ago at dinner, Dave was leading our Bible time, and as part of an illustration he asked, "Meg, would you like to live in a big house some day, and have lots of toys and a big yard with a pony in it?" "No," said Meg decisively. "I'd like to live in a medium house with a husband and lots of children." (This still makes me smile from ear to ear when I think of it.)

This girl just keeps bringing us more and more joy. We love watching her grow and learn and blossom. And we love getting to be her family!

Thirtysomething

2011-01-17T14:43:00.003-05:00

Does anyone remember that TV show from the '80s? OK, so I don't really remember it--I was like eight years old when it aired. But I remember knowing it existed, and associating it with my parents, since they were thirtysomethings at the time.

Yesterday I turned 31. And now I'm officially a thirtysomething too.

I really like birthdays. I hate the fact that our culture treats aging like some kind of inevitable, creeping disaster that has to be staved off and warred against. King Solomon would not approve this mentality, methinks.

Gray hair is a crown of glory;it is gained in a righteous life.
Proverbs 16:31

Grandchildren are the crown of the aged, and the glory of children is their fathers.
Proverbs 17:6

The glory of young men is their strength, but the splendor of old men is their gray hair.
Proverbs 20:29

You know, I get that my body is losing the glory of the strength of my youth. I look in the mirror every day, and believe me... I get that. I sure as heck don't look like I did when I was 21. But by God's grace, I am a wiser woman, and a happier one, than I was at 21. And I don't have the desire to relive all of the hard work, the heartache, the sin and repentance and just... the daily grinding that have made me wiser and happier.

Don't get me wrong. These last ten years of my life have been full of transformation and light and abundant life. They've been full of laughter and delight and sweetness and incredible milestones. I treasure these things. But I'm not sure I'd want to relive even these moments, as dear and as rich as they were.

You know what I want? As I fall asleep each night, I want to remember that, by God's grace alone, I am one day closer to Heaven. Whether those hours have brought me smiles or tears, I want to thank God that He has used them to make me wiser. I want to rejoice that I am one earth's-revolution closer to seeing the face of Jesus. And then I want to fall asleep, unafraid of the next day's hard work, heartache, sin, repentance and just... the daily grind.

The only way that this can be is through the unstoppable love of Christ. He alone enables the hard work. He infuses the heartache with hope. He forgives my sin and woos me to repentance. He makes the daily grind worth it.

On January 16, 1992, the day I turned 12, the beloved pastor of my childhood church, Reid Earnest, died. Nineteen years later, as I dropped my children off in their Sunday school classes, another dear friend went home to be with the Lord. His name was John Spiro. He and his wife Kathy have been wonderful friends to my family. I've had the great privilege of doing music and drama with them, absorbing their story, laughing with them, being cheered by them. John literally left his mark on our home, having painted much of its interior. And he certainly leaves his mark on our hearts. Everything in me aches for Kathy and the three amazing kids whom she and John adopted.

Every year that goes by now adds to the friends and acquaintances who await me in Heaven. If God lets me live long enough to gain the crown of a gray head and a righteous life, I fully expect to reach the point where I'll know more people in Heaven than I do on Earth. I don't expect the process that leads to that point to be fun or easy. But I know that Jesus will be there.

21 years--Jesus was there. 31 years--Jesus is here. 32 years--Jesus will be there. 42--He's there. 52, 62, 92--He'll still be there. And on the day that I die and find my heart's true desire, I hope all the dear saints who've gone before me gather to welcome me Home.

But if I get my wish, I won't even notice them for a long, long time. Because you know Who will be there. And I want His face to be the very first one I see.

Coughing in the New Year

2011-01-15T12:30:00.001-05:00

That's what I did. Believe me, the traditional "ringing in" the New Year is a much better idea. I actually coughed so much and so hard between December 19th (when my cold started) and last weekend that I pulled a muscle down near the right half of my rib cage. I wouldn't recommend it.

But anyway! God is graciously allowing me to recover now, and we are starting to try and pull ourselves back together. Slowly.

One huge blessing (emphasis on "huge") to our kids was a Christmas presents they received from Grandma Dawn and Grandpa Tom. It helped keep them busy and smiling when I was at my lowest, sicky yuckness. It looked like this....

and this...

and then this!

All three kids LOVED decorating and playing in this cute cardboard cottage from myveryownhouse.com. They called it "The House," and got a kick out of asking our visitors, "Do you have a House in your house?" Tee-hee hee. Meg and Matthew also loved abusing and battering The House, which is why The House now resides in The Recycling Pile. (Sniff, sniff. I get a little too attached to my children's playthings.) But, wow, it sure was good fun while it lasted. Even if it did take up a solid half of our little living room.

In the absence of The House, I "invented" a new game for the kids last night, which was an instant hit. It's called Challenge, and it involves me creating individualized series of activities for each kid to complete as quickly as possible. For example, "Meg, your challenge is to do one leap, one soutenu (a ballet turn), skip to the kitchen, whirl around on the sit-and-spin, boogie back into the living room, write your name on the easel and do one more leap." "Matthew, your challenge is to clap your hands three times, do a somersault, shoot one basket, run around the table with the doll stroller and do four bounces on the bouncy ball." The kids are eating it up. And it's great exercise for cooped-up, antsy, little bodies.

And that's a greatly overdue update from the Wilcox household. Happy 2011, everyone!

Auld Lang Syne: A Cup of Kindness for Cubby

2010-12-31T14:37:00.009-05:00

I read this today, then jumped to the full article here. Check 'em out if you've ever mumbled through the words to the classic New Year's song or wondered what the heck it's all about. I know I have. Anyway, Miss Noonan's helpful little essay solidified my desire to take a quick break from my series on Jesus' Birthday and write my final post of the year in honor of Cubby. So here I go.

* * *

Between the two of us, Dave and I have mourned the loss of four grandparents in the last six years. Grandpa Wilcox died in 2005. Margie in 2007. Grandma Wilcox and Cubby both passed away earlier this year.

I did not know Grandpa Wilcox very well; in fact, I only met him once. When Margie died, I wanted desperately to write something in her honor. I tried; I filled up pages with notes about her life and my memories of her. But I just couldn't write anything cohesive. When Grandma died this winter, I fully expected to be able to write about her. I didn't know her as well as Margie, my own mom's mother, but I did know her. I felt I had plenty to say too, but... it wouldn't come.

But with Cubby, I knew exactly what I wanted to write before he even died. He went in for a chancy surgery, then spent six precarious weeks in the hospital. Sometime early in those six weeks I remember telling my friend Jess, "I know exactly what I want to say at his memorial service if he doesn't make it." And somehow, miraculously, I did it.

Here's what I wrote and shared.

I have so many precious memories of my Cubby—memories that span 30 years and range from mundane daily car trips to and from summer camp to the day when my grandparents met and held my first child four and-a-half years ago. Many of my fondest memories relate to beach trips with Margie and Cubby during my middle and high-school years. There’s Cubby body surfing the waves at the New Jersey shore; Cubby floating on his back in the quiet evening surf, toes poking up out of the water like little fish; Cubby leading us in after-dinner games of Yahztee, pretending to spit on the dice to increase his odds of a high roll.

But the memories I most want to share with you today are from our last two beach trips with Cubby, in the summers of 2008 and 2009. The setting was the dining room of our rental house in the Outer Banks. I’m going to read to you from a journal entry that I penned the morning of August 24, 2009. We’ll call this “A Tale of Two Dinners.”

“What wonderful fellowship we had around the table last night. Cubby is trying to learn more about the fear of God, after being touched by this concept for the first time during a recent sermon by Josh (our senior pastor here at Covenant Life). As we discussed various attributes of God, as we pondered together what it means to fear and revere God, Cub participated so humbly, so joyfully. He even expressed wonder over concepts that were new to him, like the communicable attributes of God vs. incommunicable attributes. As we talked, I couldn’t help but contrast this with a conversation we had just last year around the very same table. On that night too there were some rather heady theological matters under discussion. As Cubby listened to Dave and Asher (my husband and brother-in-law), these much younger men whose knowledge seemed to surpass his own, he expressed frustration that he didn’t know more of God. Then he grew quiet, withdrawing and ultimately collapsing into what I might describe as a “funk”. Mom spent a long time that night caring for Cub and trying to draw him out of the funk—not to much avail, as I recall.”

Two different years. Same dinner table, same family, similar topics of conversation, same Cubby… totally different reaction. The first year, there seemed to be… pride? Maybe some self-pity? The second year, all that was replaced with awe, gratefulness, humility, delight. Frustration was replaced with hunger, the holy hunger of a heart that has tasted God’s goodness and wants more.

What I learned through this Tale of Two Dinners is that God keeps working in the hearts of his people all the way through their lives. Apparently, the process of sanctification doesn’t end when you hit 80! Now, Cubby had walked with the Lord for many years before he moved to Maryland. But I believe that God kindly arranged the details of Cubby’s last few years so that Cubby would become aware of his need to know God more. Part of that was taking Margie home first. Another part was bringing Cubby to a place where he would have opportunities to learn of God in fresh ways—to my parents’ home, and to this dear church.

And by God’s grace, Cubby was able to respond to God’s work in his life. He read. He watched sermons over and over again on DVD. He started taking classes here at the church, he became a member, he had many challenging conversations with my mom. He stepped outside of his comfort zone so that he could know His Savior more. It was such a joy for me to watch. And he loved it. He loved being part of a care group and making new friends there. He loved learning from our pastors and endlessly marveled over the rich bible teaching we receive here. He grew to love talking about God. I think he loved meeting with God privately each day. One of my last memories of Cubby is of being outside, in Mom and Dad’s back yard, playing with Meg and Matthew. I looked up, and there through the glass of the sliding door was Cubby, in his big recliner, hunched over his great, thick Bible. Occasionally he would look up to watch us for a few minutes. He would wave, or one of the kids would go over to the door and show him a bug they found in the grass. Then he would go back to reading.

In Matthew 5, Jesus promised that those who hunger and thirst for righteousness will be satisfied. In His great mercy, God gave my Cubby an increased hunger for righteousness in his final years on earth. God gave him an increased hunger for Jesus. And now, because Jesus died for sinful people like me and Cubby, Cubby is with Jesus, and he is satisfied forever.

(Photo credit [first and last] Megan Russell Photography.)

Jesus' Birthday, Part 2

2010-12-29T20:38:00.005-05:00

Our problem with presents was mostly a matter of time. Typically, Dave has only a few days off in the month of December--early in December. He had no days off during the week of Christmas, including Christmas Eve. He worked serious hours, coming home long after the kids were in bed. Of course, we could open our gifts on Christmas morning--and we did--but this created an uncomfortable time crunch. Our goal was always to leave our house by mid-morning to make the 4-hour trip to my Gran's house in Virginia and be there in time for a late lunch. This meant that the whole morning was spent rushing. Rush to eat our special family breakfast, rush through reading the Christmas story, rush to unwrap presents, rush to pack the car, rush out the door. It wasn't the way we wanted Christmas to feel.

And did you catch where Jesus fit into that picture? Buried in the middle of a harried half-day. We wanted to do more. After all, Jesus is the hero of Christmas, the long-awaited King, finally arrived, to be marveled at and adored. Where could we find the time to do that?

In 2008, we did a little experiment and transferred the gifts out of Christmas Day. We bought presents and wrapped them early. We stuffed stockings early. We chose a day when Dave was off work early in December. And then, on a random Monday morning, when the rest of the world was headed off to work or school or Target, we opened our gifts as a family. We took our time, enjoying the privilege of giving to one another, as God has freely given to us. The kids got to play with their new toys. We didn't rush anywhere, at all. It was nice.

And when Christmas Day arrived, we spent the morning having our first Birthday Party for Jesus. It was very simple that year. There was a cake with candles. There was a more leisurely, sweet time to read through the Christmas story and talk with our kids about Jesus and why He came. That was nice too. And so in 2009, we did pretty much the same thing.

2010 rolled around, and we had a choice to make. This year was to be different in a couple of ways. One, no big Christmas production. Covenant Life took a more low-key approach this year, a more traditional Christmas Eve service, with singing, a simple Scripture reading, a choir, a sermon... and not much else. No drama meant no weeks of rehearsals. Dave was going to be home A LOT more this December. Secondly, Christmas would fall on a Saturday. That meant church (i.e., work) the next day, Sunday. This meant that we could not travel on Christmas Day; we needed to stay in town until Sunday afternoon, at least. This meant that we would be home all day on Christmas, a shocking and unheard of occurrence! So what would we do with all that time? Just the five of us, at home, all day... should we bring the presents back in?

* * *

Now here's something you need to know about me. I love gifts and gift-giving. I am not an anti-present person. I grew up in a home where we celebrated Jesus thoroughly and gave gifts generously. Though my parents taught us that Santa was a myth, our Christmas carried every bit of the magic that so many middle-class American kids experience. So taking the gift exchange out of Christmas Day has given me pause. Are we robbing our kids of their Christmas magic?

Then I think about what the "magic" really is. Isn't the real magic in the anticipation of something wonderful, and the joyful fulfillment of that anticipation? Isn't the magic about longing for something, hoping for something, and then seeing that something come to you? And doesn't the magic have a lot to do with a family being together on Christmas morning, and repeating much beloved-traditions? If the answer to these questions is yes, well...

Is there any more wonderful anticipation than the wait for our hearts' King?
Is there anything more joyful than the fulfillment of God's promise of a Savior?
Don't we want our own hearts, and our children's hearts, to long and hope for Jesus more than anything else?
Can we not create traditions that will exalt Jesus rather than our own material wishes?

I have a very distinct memory from one of my childhood Christmases. I must have been 8 or 10 years old. We had just returned from celebrating at my grandparents' home in Pennsylvania. The car was unpacked, the gifts unloaded. I was sitting at the top of the stairs in our old farm house, holding my brand new, much-desired American Girl doll, Samantha. She was the gift I had scarcely dared to hope I could receive, and here she was, in my arms. "Mom," I said, "I think this is the best Christmas ever." I believed the words were true when they left my mouth, but they sounded hollow in my ears. And I didn't have the wisdom to understand why my superlative rang false.

The "magic" of Christmas that resides in the gifts we give each other is a pretty thin magic, isn't it? We don't get what we hoped for. We get what we hoped for, and it breaks. We no sooner open our gifts than we start to eye what somebody else just opened. Or maybe we're grateful for what we receive, but we find ourselves thinking, "All that build-up... for this? This small (or big) pile of possesions? These few fleeting hours? Is it over already?"

* * *

It only took one conversation for Dave and me to decide that we did not want to open gifts on Christmas Day, despite the extra time. It was too special an opportunity, the gift of this whole day to focus on Jesus, to muddle it with the presents again.

I'm so glad we made that choice. I really liked the low-key nature of our gift exchange. There was no big build-up; one day the kids woke up, and we were like, "Guess what? We're opening presents today!" But instead of being the Day of Days, the culmination of the whole Christmas season, opening gifts was just one of the many special activities sprinkled throughout December. It took away from my sense of let-down too. Presents may have been over, but Christmas Day was still ahead...

And since we had a whole Christmas Day to fill and no gifts to take up the bulk of the time? We had lots more Birthday Party to plan.

(to be continued in another post...)

(This is the second in a series that began here.)

Jesus' Birthday, Part 1

2010-12-29T07:32:00.004-05:00

I write this post with a mixture of hesitation and enthusiasm. On one hand, this blog is mostly a vehicle for little stories and pictures from our every day family life. There are several reasons why I'm committed to retaining that as my primary focus. On the other hand, I've noted that there are some fellow Christian bloggers who are rethinking Christmas. So though I have a very small readership, I'm excited to share what our evolving Christmas celebration looks like, just in case it serves or inspires someone... even one person.

So, rethinking Christmas.

For us, it began because of my husband's job. David works for our beloved church, which often puts on a big musical production for Christmas Eve. For Dave, as Tech Director, this means rehearsals. Lots of rehearsals. And lots of rehearsals means very few nights at home during the month of December. I'm talking... very few. So as some families are coming together to enjoy all sorts of festive activities and traditions, we have typically been preparing to release Daddy for a brief season of intense service.

I don't remember exactly how it happened, but three or four years ago, God led us to conclude that this shouldn't get in the way of our Christmas. That is, we shouldn't feel or act like we were giving anything up because we weren't able to be together in the weeks leading up to Christmas. In fact, we wanted to regard Dave's service as a privilege. And we wanted to teach our children to regard Dave's service as a privilege.

Knowing our sinful hearts, it could well have been, "Well, Daddy just has to be at church until the Christmas show is over. It stinks, but that's our lot in life." But by God's grace, it became this instead: "Christmas is Jesus' birthday, and one of the birthday gifts we get to give Jesus is releasing Daddy to be at church this month. He's getting ready to help our whole church celebrate Jesus' birthday! And there will be lots of people who don't know Jesus coming to church at Christmas. Let's pray that God will use our Christmas service to draw people to Himself."

From there, it quickly expanded to, What are other ways that we can turn our focus outward during Christmas? What are some other Christmas presents we can give to Jesus? How else can we serve? What other "sacrifices" (I use quotes because the things we lay down in God's honor are so, so meager in the grand scheme) can we make as offerings to the King in this season? We started thinking about ways to fill the weeks before Christmas with more joyful giving. It really wasn't difficult--opportunities to give abound, because need abounds.

Then there was the matter of presents.

(to be continued in another post...)

For "Those Who Need a Rescue"

2010-12-20T09:42:00.002-05:00

From my friend Megan's blog:

we have it sunk deep into our collective cultural consciousness
that Christmas is for the happy people.
You know, those with idyllic family situations
enjoyed around stocking-strewn hearth dreams.
Christmas is for healthy people who laugh easily and at all the right times, right?
The successful and the beautiful,
who live in suburban bliss,
can easily enjoy the holidays…
We live and act as if this is who should be enjoying Christmas.

But this is backwards.
Christmas—the great story of the incarnation of the Rescuer—is for everyone,
especially those who need a rescue.
Jesus was born as a baby to know the pain and sympathize with our weaknesses.
Jesus was made to be like us so that in his resurrection we can be made like him;
free from the fear of death and the pain of loss.
Jesus’ first recorded worshipers were not of the beautiful class.
They were poor, ugly shepherds, beat down by life and labor.
They had been looked down on over many a nose.

Jesus came for those who look in the mirror and see ugliness.
Jesus came for daughters whose fathers never told them they were beautiful.
Christmas is for those who go to “wing night” alone.
Christmas is for those whose lives have been wrecked by cancer,
and the thought of another Christmas seems like an impossible dream.
Christmas is for those who would be nothing but lonely if not for social media.
Christmas is for those whose marriages have careened against the retaining wall
and are threatening to flip over the edge.
Christmas is for the son whose father keeps giving him hunting gear
when he wants art materials.
Christmas is for smokers who cannot quit even in the face of a death sentence.
Christmas is for prostitutes, adulterers, and porn stars
who long for love in every wrong place.
Christmas is for college students who are sitting in the midst of the family
and already cannot wait to get out for another drink.
Christmas is for those who traffic in failed dreams.
Christmas is for those who have squandered the family name and fortune—
they want “home” but cannot imagine a gracious reception.
Christmas is for parents watching their children’s marriage fall into disarray.

Christmas is really about the gospel of grace for sinners.
Because of all that Christ has done on the cross,
the manger becomes the most hopeful place
in a universe darkened with hopelessness.
In the irony of all ironies,
Christmas is for those who will find it the hardest to enjoy.
It really is for those who hate it most.

_Matt B. Redmond, full article here

All the Things I Want to Blog About at Length but Can't Right Now (Part 2)

2010-12-18T16:15:00.003-05:00

-Haircuts

(Esme didn't get one, in case you were wondering.)

-Our 2010 Christmas tree, christened "Cal" (for Calvin Coolidge)
(Thanks to the always astute LT for the idea!)

-Nutcracker Wars

-Snow! And what comes afterward...

(Before the hill)

(After the hill--look closely)

-My ever-growing appreciation for Etsy and excitement over the gifts I purchased there this year

-Christmas crafts!

-Listening to Meg and Matthew sing the first verse of "Hark the Herald Angels" during our Advent celebration: it's quite the musical adventure trying to sing along with them! Each of them can carry a tune pretty well on his/her own or when singing just with Mommy, but get all four of us together (Esme being a non-singer this year), and you get what my mother laughingly referred to as "four part harmony." Maybe it's the octave difference between Dave and my voices that throws them?

-Teaching "What Child Is This" and "O Come, O Come Emmanuel" to M&M and hearing Meg sing them to herself as she goes through the house

-Watching my kids during Advent each night

All the Things I Want to Blog About at Length but Can't Right Now (Part 1)

2010-12-18T10:18:00.003-05:00

-Our day after Thanksgiving with the Don Nalle clan made me feel soooo very sorry for people who subjected themselves to Black Friday shopping madness. There is a better way, people!!! We took a big family walk in the cold, damp weather, roasted hot dogs and marshmallows in the fireplace, ate a scrumptious meal, celebrated Dad's birthday. Wonderful day. All thanks to my Mums, of course!

-Right before our family photo shoot this year, I put a diaper through the washing machine. Disposable. Clean, thank the Lord! I went to put stuff in the dryer and was like, "Whoops, someone had a tissue in their pocket... Wow, someone maybe had several tissues in their pocket... how did I not notice this many tissues in pockets??? Uh, oh, this stuff looks kind of... crystally. I know this stuff. It's the stuff that spills out on my babies' skin when they have really, really wet diapers... it can't be... it is." So what it is it with me? I have laundry issues? And photo shoot issues too, evidently, since right before last year's photo shoot, I landed us in a car accident. I'll definitely take the laundry issues over the cars, but, gee whiz... what is my deal?

-We're getting psyched about Christmas Day! We'll do our family gift exchange this coming Tuesday (this is a bit later than usual, but it's what worked out). Then we'll have the unusual opportunity to be at home all day on Christmas, so Dave and I are brainstorming ways to have an even better birthday party for Jesus!

-Meg turned 5!!

-Meg is reading! It's been a work in progress for a long time, starting with her being able to identify certain words when she was three. But in the last three weeks? Poof! We have a real reader on our hands! This week, on her own initiative, she made her way through the entire Big Picture Story Bible, reading aloud to herself. It's delightful to listen to her!

-At the beginning of our "school year" (mid-October), I started reading Laura Ingalls Wilder's books to Meg. We just finished the third in the series, Farmer Boy (my fave), today. Meg is enjoying them very much.

-Esme is walking! She started three weeks ago with her first two steps and is taking her time. No super-long journeys yet, but from the look of triumph and exhilaration on her face when she collapses into my arms after four wibble-wobbles--you'd think she just completed the Boston Marathon. Precious.

-Esme is talking! She's been working on it for a while, but she's now to the point where we really feel she's communicating. She melts our hearts with her sweet "Mommys" and "Dadas," and makes us smirk and sigh by using "No" and "Mine" in the same breath.

-And lest you fear that Matthew is getting lost in the middle, let me assure you... he doesn't let that happen.

Family Pictures

2010-12-02T11:29:00.002-05:00

Last week, our friend and neighbor Jonalee took some family pictures for us. What a precious gift to be able to "freeze" our sweet littles at this moment in time, before--blink--they change again! And Jonalee did such a good job getting their many-faceted personalities. These pictures are fairly brimming with all of the energy and emotion and general nuttiness that our kids bring to every waking moment.

There is a little story around the photo shoot that I haven't finished writing yet... maybe soon?

Happy Thanksgiving!

2010-11-25T07:13:00.004-05:00

How do I thank You oh Lord
For taking my place on the cross
And how do I thank You oh Lord
For all of Your mercy and kindness
For calling me to You
For letting me hear You
For opening my heart to the gospel

As long as I have breath I will praise You
As long as my heart beats I will sing
As long as life flows in my veins
I will bless Your Name

How do I thank You oh Lord
For all of the love in Your eyes
And how do I thank You oh Lord
For how You have changed me forever
For giving me power
A hope and a future
With favor and gladness and every good thing

As long as I have breath I will praise You
As long as my heart beats I will sing
As long as life flows in my veins
I will bless Your Name

-"As Long As I Have Breath" by Mark Altrogge

Table Manners Tuesday

2010-11-23T14:04:00.003-05:00

Cute, aren't they? Oooh, but it's amazing how difficult these little people can make it to have a sane family dinner. Recently Dave and I found we were spending almost the entire mealtime correcting their aberrant behavior. In response, Meg and Matthew seemed to want to ramp up the rudeness. It was not fun.

So I decided I would make table etiquette an official part of our school curriculum this year. (I'm doing some very simple preschool/pre-k work with Matthew and Meg this fall.) I spent some time online, trying to figure out what others have done, but in the end I decided to do my own thing. This is a small but fun creative challenge for me, and it also allows us to address the specific issues we encounter with our kids in a proactive way. Thus was born "Table Manners Tuesday."

Every Tuesday morning, we learn one new rule. I make up a little couplet to teach them about a concept (like not talking with your mouth full of food). We read the little poem together until they're able to recite it on their own. Then we practice. Meg and Matthew each get a plate filled with small pieces of food, and a fork. (Confession: sometimes I've done cut-up fruit, but the last couple of weeks I've used mini-marshmallows, which makes Table Manners Tuesday one of the highlights of the week!) We recite the rule together, then they get to take one bite, being very very careful to practice the new rule. We recite it again. They get another bite, and I sometimes issue reminders. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

Now we're to the point where we have a small collection of rules, so we start with review, reciting all of the old rules, one at a time, taking a bite in between each one, and (theoretically) practicing all of our rules at once. I try to make it fun (marshmallows, gently teasing them when they do something wrong) and formal all at once. They seem to be enjoying it. And I think it's having a positive effect on our family dinners. Not instantaneously, mind you. But we've been able to have something resembling conversation lately.

Here are the rules we've learned so far:

1. After it delivers the bite that you ate,
Your fork goes right back on your plate.

2. Please do not show us the food you have chewed.
Keeping your mouth closed is much less rude.

3. Interrupting someone is shocking!
Please wait until others are all done talking.

4. Conversation has its own sweet ring;
The table is the place to talk, not sing!

And a peek at what's ahead for future Tuesdays (remember, I make these up based on what I observe in our real-life dinners):
I don't poke or play or lean or flap;
The place for my hands is on my own lap.

(Whoa! Branching out into quatrains!)
First we pray and then I wait
Not a single bite will leave my plate--
Whether bread or beef, pudding or pork--
I don't eat until my hostess lifts her fork.

There you have it--a glimpse into one of our little family challenges and how we're attempting to solve it. Anyone else have good ideas about teaching table manners? I'd love to hear any thoughts.

"Drowned in Mercy"

2010-11-17T23:10:00.003-05:00

Looking through the GirlTalk archives on Thanksgiving, I came across this captivating quote from Spurgeon:

"The fear of a man who really knows the love and goodness of God, will be somewhat of this kind: He will fear lest he should really be, or should seem to be, ungrateful. 'What' he asks, 'can I do? I am drowned in mercy. It is not as though my ship were sailing in a sea of mercy; I have been so loaded with the favour of the Lord that my vessel has gone right down, and the ocean of God’s love and mercy has rolled right over the masthead. What can I do O Lord? If thou had given me only a little mercy, I might have done something, in return, to express my gratitude. But oh! Thy great mercy in electing me, in redeeming me, in converting me, and in preserving me, and in all the goodness of thy providence toward me;--what can I do in return for all these favour? I feel struck dumb; and I am afraid, lest I should have a dumb heart as well as a dumb tongue; I fear lest I should grieve Thee by anything that looks like ingratitude.”

I am drowned in mercy. The thought makes me weep--it is so profoundly true.

Come, Thou Fount of every blessing,
Tune my heart to sing Thy grace;
Streams of mercy, never ceasing,
Call for songs of loudest praise.
Teach me some melodious sonnet,
Sung by flaming tongues above.
Praise the mount! I’m fixed upon it,
Mount of Thy redeeming love.
-Robert Robinson

Truly, it will take a heavenly hymn to express the smallest part of the gratitude that I owe my God. But Father, let my heart and my mouth never tire of trying, until the day when I have an angel's song in my mouth and a crown of blood-bought jewels to cast at the feet of my Jesus.

Call Me Immature, But...

2010-11-13T10:08:00.003-05:00

I can't help laughing when my dainty, little girl-baby lets out a belch that would take out an entire frat house.

Good one, Esme Rose.