A horrible thing happened about a month ago: we lost the "back up pootsie". Judah has two security blankets, literally called "pootsies" (made my a lovely woman in ND, given to Karis by my mom when she was a baby - HOW Judah attached to them, I cannot recall, but they are vital for his comfort and sleep). They are adorable and soft and the perfect rectangular size for bringing around. We keep one in the car and one in the house. I searched high and low: grocery store, park, people's homes, library and church lost and found. Finally I just contacted the lovely lady and had a fabulous Facebook conversation with her about my desperation to get MORE POOTSIES PLEASE! She was so understanding (I'm not the first in this situation), she made more and sent them right away. I should've known, my son is smarter than that and screamed in disgust when I handed him the fresh pootsie (slightly different color but same pattern, size, feel). Seriously?!
Karis and I made a master plan to wash them and sleep with them and wear them in for Judah. We each had one. They are delicious. Our plan didn't work.
So it really all got me to thinking - how much security I put in his security blanket! I felt so unsafe with only one Pootsie. It became our "precious" around here, obsessive tracking, leave it in the house (which meant some sad car rides). Pleas to Judah to please love the new pootsies (hello, I spent a silly amount of money on them!). Not a great feeling.
Wouldn't you know, last weekend Trevor PULLED THE POOTSIE OUT OF HIS COAT POCKET. Like a magician. I was having a grumpy morning, but THE PRECIOUS WAS BACK! I was too relieved to even be the least bit upset that the pootsie was in his pocket the WHOLE TIME. What a day maker. True feelings, how ridiculous. However, Judah melted right into his old pootsie with equal joy and relief. And so, we feel secure again.
Stripping down to build up
Our demolished, bare bones basement has me thinking about how to make something beautiful it has to be stripped down. Aren't we like that too? Before we can be formed into our truest selves, we have to know the foundation and sometimes it's messy work. And slow. And costly. And in the end, rewarding. And always in progress.
Speaking your own language that is understood by only one other person (maybe two if you count your big sister)
I wrote this sentence well over a week ago, and now I don't know what I was thinking. I vaguely remember wanting to hold in memory the feeling of being so wonderfully tied to Judah - this sweet feeling of being the one to spend so much time with him and understand him so well. To be a student of his ways and development and words, what an honor! I love looking into his eyes and trying to figure out what he's trying to tell me. He still loves to be held and he'll often turn my face towards him, and then point and "tell" me what he's trying to communicate. He loves for us to name things for him, he'll hold something up and say "eh" until we tell him exactly what he's holding. Oh Judah.
Just a family story
I referred to this in the last post. It involved Karis explaining to her friend in the nursery why she had chocolate on her shirt "So, my mommy was frustrated and she threw a granola bar" (in my defense, I tossed a granola bar, and my frustration was at Trevor, not my children - and THAT is a whole other post, as I really was able to pinpoint some things that were helpful in marriage growth!). Anyway, I laughed and thought: "How do I handle this? I do not want Karis to think we hide things, because we don't. I will tell anyone the granola bar story. But, there is a time and a place - I think that's called discretion? Oh sweet 5 year old, full of grace and transparency. I love her.
- Norwex party . . . turns out I like Norwex, had a fun and chill party here. Also turns out that the hostess benefits are awesome as long as 1 person from your party books a party. Now I see how these businesses keep going, I'm in the middle of going against my nature to gently pressure friends to host one. =)
- Trevor's mustache . . . yes, it's a happening all itself. I call it my third child, it receives affection and attention, is talked about and much loved by Trevor. I do not love the mustache but I do love how happy it makes him.
- Halloween . . . family pizza party here with cousins and aunts and uncles, so much fun! Halloween memories for me include cousins coming and going, my parents opening their home with joy for a get together. It was wonderful to be with them and to watch everyone delight in the kids and make connections. Karis canvassed the neighborhood with her dear friend Lucy
- Halloween dressing up . . . I'm learning that K doesn't like dressing up. It was a crisis before her school party - one that I prayerfully navigated and am thanking God for. I wanted to understand and help her, also knew she was going to have to work it out herself. She decided (after many ideas tossed around and plenty of materials) to be "sunset shimmer" (My Little Pony). Hilariously and wonderfully it was the exact outfit she often wears to school. What is so awesome is how confident she was in her costume - I received reports of her being the first to speak into the mic at the assisted living home and tell everyone about her costume. I'm so proud of/grateful for her confidence and her imagination.
- Baptism birthday . . . again, a tradition I remember from childhood when my parents would light my baptism candle at dinner. Karis requested "burgers on daddy's grill, because he makes the best burgers with seasoning". We loved celebrating her, reading her verses from Psalm 139, looking at pictures from that special day five years ago.
- Daylight Savings time . . . makes the days eternal for parents with little ones. I suppose some day I might relish the extra hour. Thankfully the kids have been chipper in the mornings and seem to love playing in the near dark on the deck before dinner.
- Mice . . . Trevor checks his traps every night. He goes to the basement, head lamp firmly attached and a huge smile on his mustached face. I think he loves to torture me as I wait in suspense upstairs and tell him NOT to tell me if there are any caught - but then he tells me if there aren't any caught, which means that if he doesn't tell me it's "clean" then I know there is a dead mouse that he'll bring up after I go to bed. I finally asked him that if he needs to talk about mouse hunting he should maybe call a friend.
- "Sometimes Mary doesn't want me to sit at her table" (I asked if that made her sad - it made ME devastated to hear this) . . . "Don't worry, mom! I trust her judgement" (my heart is breaking as I write this)
- "I'm waiting for my daddy. Is he at the Norwex party?" (said to cousin Caroline from the top of the stairs . . . while I was hosting a party)
- "Daddy, we need to pray for mommy at the T-rex party, that she would have confidence, grace and love"
- Goes around singing "Tis a gift to be simple, tis a gift to be free . . . "
- "Mommy, I ate a jawbreaker, and it didn't even break my jaw!"
- "Bird nests are like hospitals for momma birds"
- "Mommy, how to birds get out of their . . . wait, how do birds get INTO their shells?!" (ask your dad at dinner tonight)
- "These milk duds taste DELICIOUS!" (said through a mouthful)
- "Momma, why is it so DARK?!"
- during "work time" one day (i.e. I email and she does crafts before we cuddle with books in the afternoon) she created a hilarious game called "Go the Cobweb". We played it. She won.
- She's super into playing house, and also set up a delightful "garage sale" in our back yard.
- "Mommy, is it a WHOLE moon?!"
- "I'm drawing Armstrong in outer space"
- He says "mmm-mmm" with a sweet inflection when he likes eating something
- He loves rocks, and picks some up outside every time we go in to get K from school
- He loves to dig in dirt. And then smear it all over his face
- He says "mmm" when he thinks something tastes good
- He can point to and kind of say "mustache" (Trevor loves this more than you can imagine)
- He lately goes to the very edge of the driveway, looks right at me and says "Nnnno!"
- He goes around doing anything he should not do and says, "Nnnnno!" This includes but is not limited to: hitting me, hitting Karis, opening the garbage door, climbing on the table, climbing on top of the piano . . .
- He is still my squishy little cuddle man, and sometimes comes up for a hug in the middle of play
- He loves to wrestle and be tickled
- He still has a "thing of the day". Always different, you never know what it's going to be (less and less it's a toothbrush - recently it's been a jar of sprinkles, toy spoons, or medicine dispensers)
|Baptism memories with 2 outta 3 Godfathers|
|another baptism memory, washed in the water . . . sealed with cross|
|This is one of my very favorites. Judah gets busy to work, and his objects of play are always changing. I wonder what he's thinking?|
|The baptism burgers on daddy's grill were satisfying to this dear girl|