Ballerina Girl

Ballerina girl, you are so lovely.
With you standing there, I'm so aware of how much I care for you.

I can see in you my dreams come true.
When I hold you I only want to say I love you.
Ballerina girl, the joy you bring me!

Every day and night, holding you tight
How I've waited for your love!
Ballerina girl . . .
you are so lovely.

I can see in you my dreams come true.

Hold these things

But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. Luke 2:19

A mother knows what it's like to hold a newborn baby. She marvels at his tiny fingers and toes, his rosebud lips, the way his pudgy hands have yet to make way for knuckles. She admires the way his hair swirls gently against his head, listens intently to every gurgle and cry. She sees the way he moves and is amazed at how his movements mirror the way he felt in her womb just hours or days before.

She cannot believe she has been blessed with this child. That God has chosen her to mother this tiny little being - to raise him and know him, to laugh with him and hold his tiny hands, to dance with him, to nurse him, to teach him and guide him.

A mother cherishes her baby child every minute of every day in that babymoon time. She keeps a camera close by and captures his sleeping moments, the way he looks in his new pajamas, his precious little feet, his big baby yawns. She just can't get enough of this new person in her life.

I remember dearly those new days with each of my babes. The way I was absolutely overwhelmed with adoration for them.
In Canaan's favorite Christmas book, The Christmas Story According to Luke, I read for the first time this verse about Mary . . .

But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. Luke 2:19

I'm sure I've seen the verse before, but it struck me anew this week as I read it to my son. I suddenly pictured Mary with her baby, the Christ child, and how completely overcome she must have been. She wasn't just a new Mommy. She was a new Mommy to the King. The King of Kings. The Lord. The creator of Heaven and earth. The Savior! I can't wait to sit with Mary in Heaven and ask her to describe what she felt in those days, as she cradled and nursed our Father God. She nursed our Father God! Talk about wishing there were a manual by which to raise a child! Wow.

Christ the Savior is born.
Christ the Savior is born!

Not just their journey

We met with our charter school resource teacher today. We all love our resource teacher, but it was not the easiest meeting ever. We have not been completing as much work as we should. While Graham has improved considerably in his reading class, Malachi has not. There was talk of keeping him in 6th grade for another year. And as long as we're on a suck-fest roll, Graham's been having some behavior issues in his enrichment classes.

I left feeling deflated.

Here's the thing about being a Christian mother. We know that we have hope in all circumstances. We know that God is bigger than any situation. We know that he loves our kids even more than we do, and he's not about to give up on them, ever.

But. I also know how many times I have failed my kids. That I have always struggled with discipline and when I am not disciplined, my kids pay for it.

How to make these two balance? The whole drive home my mind kept going back and forth: "You're such a loser of a mother."
"No you're not. You discipline consistently, you love your kids, and their faith is infinitely more important than their reading level."
"But their reading level is important, and you're failing them. That reading teacher, why didn't she tell me it wasn't going well with Malachi? She said in 10 short weeks she would fix my boys. They're not fixed."

And then . . . "I am a God of hope, and I love you. We will get through this together."

I heard the voice of my God, still and peaceful in my heart. And then I realized. I'm not just a neutral in this homeschooling journey. It's not just their journey. It's mine, too. God has not only called me to homeschool my children because it is what's best for them - it's what's best for me, too. I need to grow in discipline. I need to grow in grace. It's not just for them. I'm not lost in some whirlwhind of a 20-year homeschooling journey. I'm here with purpose. FOR a purpose. My God is faithful, and he will never, ever give up on me.

Beach Fun

Growing up, we spent a lot of time at the coast. My Grandparents lived there in a darling beach house that was so close the the water, we could walk from their house to the sand in about 5 minutes.
We created so many memories of that little beach town that I think we all felt that we had ownership of it. We knew each little store and restaurant, the names of all the streets, where the steps led down to the sand.

When my Grandparents got too old to live in their home, it had to be sold in order to pay for their care. I know that our treasures are in Heaven, but losing that home was like losing a piece of my heart.

The first time we went back there, I couldn't even get out of the car. I started crying as the freeway exit approached and didn't stop for a full ten minutes. We drove up and down a street or two and when Alif asked if I'd like to get out I told him I just couldn't do it. It was just not the same without my Grandparents to greet us, without the familiar home away from home.
A few years ago my Dad and his wife started a Thanksgiving tradition of renting a home in another small beach community. It was nice to get away and spend time at the beach again. Over the years, though, it's turned into much more than that. It's a healing place. A place we can return to year after year. My kids are starting to know all the little shops. They know which streets lead down to the sand. They run with reckless abandon into the freezing cold water. They look forward to walking down the pier on our last day and then eating at the fish & chips shop nearby.

I know that God cares about our hearts, and I'm so thankful to Him for making a new tradition. It will never be the same as my Grandparents' home, of course, but it's wonderful nonetheless.

A Year of Graham

Happy 10th Birthday Graham!!

In January you wore over 30 shirts to Awana for layers night or some crazy thing. You had so many on you couldn't breathe and we had to stop and strip off some layers. I was genuinely frightened.

This year you have grown to really enjoy reading. I wasn't sure I'd ever find you reading just for enjoyment but that has happened many times over the last year. You recently read the book "Holes" and loved it. I read it too and could totally see why you enjoyed it so much. Great book!

Your love of photography continued. I love that you make sure you have your camera and fresh batteries when we go somewhere. It cracked me up when you showed me how you had taken a video of our whole car trip one time. You've done it a few times since.In April we went to Home Depot and built their free project. We've done 2 or 3 of them now and you always enjoy it. Grandma Baldwin even took you to one when you spent the night at her house!

Also in April we went as a family to a local farm and picked berries. You enjoyed playing in the corn and ate blueberries all the way home.
You played baseball again and liked it ok.You let your hair grow for a while. I'm not sure it was the right look. You never really seem to care too much about things like this, and when I told you one day that it was time to cut it you just said, "ok."

Grandpa Payne took you to the school by our house and practiced soccer with you almost every day this summer. You improved A LOT. At the beginning of this soccer season you said the worst your team would ever do would be to tie, because no one would get any balls past you. You really were a great player and even scored a goal this season!

In November we took our annual trip to the beach. As usual, you loved it and had a blast playing in the sand and water with your brother, playing checkers with your Dad and this year we had a mini Birthday party, at which you received things like duct tape and hot glue guns. This made you so happy that you proclaimed, "there can never be too much duct tape!!"

I love you, son. I love you.

Graham's Last Day of 9

This little baby all in stripes was born on December 4, 1999. He weighed 7 lbs 12 oz and was 21" long. He was the perfect addition to our very small family - baby boy #2, the second son in 20 months' time. We knew how to do baby boys, and we felt ready. Then he arrived, and literally slept 20 hours a day for his first two weeks. He was such an easy baby!

But let me back up a minute. That December was the most precious Christmas season to date for me, and actually, Graham's December birth has made Christmas ever so much more meaningful for me than I ever imagined it could be. Something about expecting my own baby son, singing hymns to our Lord and remembering when He came to earth as a baby - I did lots of crying that season! Joyful crying - I felt so connected to Christ's birth, and thinking of the intimacy of it brings me to tears even now.

He continued to bless us as a toddler, too. He's the boy who would bring a smile to our faces all day every day with his silly sayings and his facial expressions and just his funny way of being who he is. He had to have something fuzzy with him at all times. First there was fuzzy bear, then there was his fuzzy green blanket, and then there was Spot. Actually, there continues to be Spot, a Build-A-Bear gift from Grandma Baldwin. I can't even count the times I would be asking him to do something and he would have to stop and gather whatever fuzzies he'd gathered before moving on. It could be a fuzzy from inside a stuffed animal, pulled from a sweater or pillow - anything fuzzy would do.

Graham started to throw a loop in things when he was about 3. He'd been such a delightfully easy baby and toddler, and suddenly he . . . wasn't. He wasn't easy.

We certainly have never wavered in our love for our son, but life with Graham can be trying.
Very trying.

But oh - my - gosh. Be still my heart. How I love and adore my son. How I mourn that today is his last day as a nine-year-old. Letting go of the single digits is painfully hard today.

Dear Graham,
Son, you are storms and sunshine in my day, every day. We may battle the whole day long, and then at the end of it you might pray to God and thank Him for such a wonderful day, leaving me to weep at the many times I yelled at you to stop whatever crazy thing you'd been doing.

This past few months in particular have been like walking an emotional tightrope, haven't they? I started to suspect that your Tourette's Syndrome wasn't the only thing causing your days to be difficult. I stumbled upon a site about Asperger's Syndrome and my stomach churned as just about everything I read described you perfectly. My heart leaped with hope and nervousness as I sought more information, and eventually, assessments and help. It sunk in sadness when the first therapist we saw said that she was "unusually certain" of this diagnosis for you.

We might be walking a tightrope, Graham, but I hope you always know deep within you that we're walking hand in hand. You, your Daddy, your siblings and me. We all love you more than you might ever know. I worry that our long days might leave you exhausted emotionally, that the negatives so far outweigh the positives. I am praying that as we seek help and guidance, we can turn that around and make life more enjoyable for us all. I wish I had known all of this years ago and had avoided a lot of pain, but I trust that God's timing is perfect.

Graham, I joke with you about just turning 9 again instead of moving on to 10, but someday you will be a Daddy and you will understand how desperate a parent can feel at times to preserve these days. I love waking up and knowing that I will see your face every morning. I love tucking you in at night and hearing your sweet prayers. I love teaching you. I love playing with you. I love watching you grow and change and mature. I love being your Mom.

I love you, just as you are, now and always!

Teeth: check

Alright. Let this be my PSA of the week: Brush Your Teeth! But don't stop there. Brush them with a good electronic toothbrush if you can. Floss your teeth, too. Use a mouthwash. Get your teeth cleaned every six months. Be a little obsessive about it. Because if you don't, you'll be like me.

I went to see my dentist in 2007, and apparently it had been a while because at the time they recommended a deep clean, which would cost $195. Totally embarrassing and not at all affordable. I never did go back. Until today.

I knew it would be a bad situation. After all, if I needed a deep clean in 2007, and if my own teeth grossed me out in the mirror, then I knew the situation could not be good today.

I took Caris with me, such a wimp was I to go alone. The x-ray tech took her pictures - both x-ray and actual pictures - and she was just plain delightful. She had a sense of humor that took the edge right off. She took us back to a room and put on The Little Mermaid for us. And ok, I love the music in that movie but I'd forgotten how much evil and magic there was! Eeeks!

The dentist came in and introduced himself and asked, "So, what would you be doing today if you weren't here?" Aww, nice! He checked out my teeth and then explained the whole nasty situation. I need two crowns. Two other spots of decay he just put on watch, since they'd gone ahead and hardened over. (Cool!) And of course, I needed a deep cleaning and also irrigation, which is some technique they use to handle periodontal disease.

Then in came the big bad billing lady. The crown will of course be quite expensive, but I was dismayed when she said that the deep cleaning would be $404 and the irrigation $240. Oh no, oh no! I told her I just couldn't do it, and she said she would go talk to the doctor.

Next thing I knew the hygienist came in and said they could do a regular cleaning and send me home with a bottle of stuff that would swish my gum disease away. Total $35. WOW! Do we serve a God who can handle even our silliest, nastiest problems or what?

I have to tell you, that cleaning hurt. But the hygienist was amazing and my teeth look incredible. Caris was so sweet - she sat next to me and rubbed my arm. LOL Something's very backward about this picture, isn't it?

Anyway, I will be a LOT better about caring for my teeth from here on out, I promise!

BeSIDE Myself.

This morning the funniest thing happened. Let me preface by saying that Alif and I were both VERY grouchy after having almost no sleep last night due to a certain little someone coughing in our bed all - night - long.

Alif got up and was going through all my CDs and he was just on a roll, trying to get them all organized. I went back to bed for an hour and by the time I got downstairs he'd spent probably 2 hours on the project and there were CDs missing and such - he was beSIDE himself. LOL

So here's what happened. He found this DVD that said "Tater Family" on it, handwritten by me. He asked, "Who's the Tater Family?" Well, I'll tell you who they are - they're a family of potatoes that I dressed up to look like people for an Awana lesson. So my sleep deprivation plus the silliness of him asking so seriously who they were and me picturing "Agi Tater" and "Commen Tater" was just too much. I lost it. I started laughing so hard I knew I looked ugly. I mean, it was BAD. And all the while he was just staring at me like I was retarded, and that made it so much funnier to me, and by this time I had tears going down my face and it felt very red. He kept asking, "Who ARE they? Emily, who are the Tater family?" And every time he asked, I laughed harder.

He said, "Can you go upstairs if you're going to act like that?" and it sounded to me like something one of the kids would say to each other if they were annoyed, and if it was possible, I laughed EVEN HARDER. Somehow I found the breath to say, "What did you say??" and he said, "Please. Please get a grip." Oh man, laughing fits are so, so good.

Weaning Continued

Moving on is not easy. My emotions cover me head to toe, thinly veiled and completely undone by some of life's changes.

I'm ready to wean. Canaan's ready too. He's a big boy, all action and words and ideas. He still cries for mum-mum and there have been a few times I've almost aborted this mission and gone back to our cozy-all-the-time nursing days. I have actually nursed him four times since we went cold-turkey, for less than a minute each time. Each time I try *not* to wonder if it's the last. I try *not* to memorize how his little face looks, how his hands stroke my arms, how his hair feels on my lips as I kiss his sweet head. I try *not* to see how desperate his eyes look when I tell him it's time and break the suction with my finger.

I do soak in how he nestles in with his head resting on my neck once he stops. I cherish the way he still crawls in bed with me, takes my hand and uses my palm as his pillow. I cry even now, not wanting my precious baby boy to grow into a big boy who doesn't need mommy's cuddles nearly as much. Even though big boys are amazing too.

Right after I weaned Canaan, he and I both caught colds. This is the biggest temptation of all to nurse him. To nourish him the way only this milk within me can. I have expressed milk that I thawed and tried to give him in a cup, but it isn't what he wants. It's from the tap or not at all, I guess. I wonder if God allowed this minor illness as a reminder that we are both in His hands, at His breast, nourished by His loving care.

The worst part of nursing is letting it go.

I'm a Weaner

I will try to be brief, but feel free to skip this if you're not a breastfeeding fan. An extended breastfeeding fan. This is my abbreviated chronicle of my weaning times.

I planned to wean Malachi between 12 and 13 months. The "thing to do" was to wean at a year, but I didn't want to cut him back too drastically, so by 12 months I had him down to 4x a day and figured I'd cut one out per week until he was 13 months and we were done. Except that the time came and he really wasn't fond of weaning, and neither was I. I didn't realize a person could just keep nursing. How ridiculous that sounds now! So I tried weaning him many times, and was unsuccessful many times. I even snuck nursing him when we were out of town one time, and when Alif walked in he said, "what are you doing?" He was asking out of surprise, not condemnation, but the fact is that I felt guilty about nursing my son for so much longer than was normal. I had another son when he was 20 months, and by around age 2 Malachi had just tapered off and wasn't nursing any more. His weaning went largely unnoticed by us both. Sorry I don't have a picture of him at weaning age - I was still using *film* and don't feel like trying to figure out scanning and all that.

Here's Graham right around his weaning time. He was two and a half. I had been nursing for over four years, and I was pretty much ready to not be nursing any more. Graham was (and is) such a creature of habit, and he was totally thrilled with the 10 seconds he got on each side when he awoke in the morning. Literally - I would count from one to ten on each side, and he'd pop off, happy. Well, you'd think there would be hardly anything left, but I was excruciatingly engorged after he weaned, and that was no fun, but he was fine with weaning, as far as I remember.Caris was almost three when I weaned her. I was going on a trip to Scotland and needed to not be nursing her, because there was no way I was going to pump for 8 days when she was almost three. Not gonna happen. But it was hard. I shed A LOT of tears. SHE shed a lot of tears. It makes me tearful even now, reading again about it and remembering how hard it was. Then I read the updates and it's so encouraging to see that it really did get easier.
And now here I am, being a weaner again. I cut Canaan back to twice a day about a month ago, because it was just too frustrating having him whining for mum-mums all day long and even sometimes at night. Well, that plan didn't go all that great because he just kept whining for it. A lot. A few nights ago he crawled into bed with Alif and I just after 12 and cried on and off the entire night. I just kept telling him no, and he kept crying. It was miserable. Alif called me from work the next morning to see how I was doing after such a long night and I said, "I'm done. I'm just done."

If he would happily nurse 1-2 times a day, I would love to nurse him at least until his Birthday in February, and wean him pretty quickly after that. I wanted to make it all the way to age three with him, and it's stupid to wean him now, in the midst of flu season, but this crying and whining is just too disruptive to our life. It's not fair to him, me or the rest of the family. So basically, I think I have only nursed him two times since then. He hasn't nursed at all in the last two days. Yesterday when I put him to bed, I had a little cry - it was the first entire day I hadn't nursed him. When Alif and I sat down at the end of the night I told him so, and asked if he was a little sad that I'm not nursing the baby any more. He knows me well and assured me that he isn't. I'd have crumpled for sure if he'd admitted that it is a little sad. LOL

Canaan has had a very, very hard time with the adjustment. The first day I didn't give him mum-mums after nap, there was almost a solid hour of crying no matter what I did. I promised to buy him a very big sucker from Target that he'd seen and he got excited about that exchange - until the middle of that first night, when he cried, "I don't want suckers actually, I want mum-mums!" Heartbreaking!!

I've pumped 3x to relieve the throbbing pressure, and the mum-mums are slowly adjusting. I'm both glad they're less sore and sad that they're starting to realize that there is no need for milk.


Oh precious boy, I love you! I am so sad that this is hard for you, but it is exciting seeing you growing into a big boy. Please don't ever stop being my cozy baby. My heart can't take it.

It IS November, after all

We made popcorn balls for my mother-in-law's Halloween party. Oh friends, they are good and so easy! Go make them! Or don't, and be thankful that you don't know what you're missing. We may be guilty of making several batches of these and consuming them all.

So at the same party, mil hosted a carving contest. Graham carried this one over for Alif and I oohed and aahed over it like nobody's business. As you can see, I even took pictures of it. "Oh my goodness, it's the cutest one ever! Alif, I love it!!" He soaked in my praise, beaming. Yeah - it was FAKE!! That trickster! He even had Graham pretend it was heavy-ish so I wouldn't suspect anything. Boo! LOL

Here are all the actual jack-o-lanters on display. Look at darling Brea in the middle, holding Canaan. I kid you not, that girl tried for over a year to court Canaan and he would have nothing to do with her. This soccer season he suddenly fell in love with her, and he just can't get enough of her now!

Here are all the kids, ready to gather candy. Malachi and Graham were white ninjas, Caris was a cheetah and Canaan was accidentally the evil spider-man. Don't blame me, I didn't know what I was ordering. Ebay took over my common sense.

We decided, incidentally, that next year it's going to be a church carnival for our family. Caris commented twice about the gory stuff around and said she was afraid she'd have nightmares.

She sure looked cute, though, and her two missing front teeth made her look like she had kitty fangs. LOL
Saturday was our last day of soccer, and both boys won their last games (so did Caris, the week before). And actually, that may have been far from our last weekend of soccer because Malachi's team is in the playoffs and I think he has been picked up for a spring select team. See me (not) jumping for joy.
Canaan had fun modeling Aunt Rabae's green glasses. Not sure if these are for real or what but they were hilarious on him.

I half-jokingly tried to line up all my boys in that cheesy between-the-legs portrait pose and was sure they wouldn't do it - but they did. ROFL
Kinda cute, yeah? Look what happened next:
Goofy goofballs! LOL I'll end with one of my favorite pics of Graham - love him!!