Sometimes it’s the little moments that bring me the biggest smiles – like when Rondel asks if Limerick can sit on Grandma’s armchair with him, and Limerick runs over to climb up.
At first they both looked pretty happy snuggled up together.
Limerick soon realized that he’d gotten into more than he bargained for, though!
But how can you really complain when greeted with such effusive and exuberant affection?
November and December are very joyful, celebratory months in our house, because in addition to the normal holidays we have three of our four birthdays (rather nicely spaced over the season, I might add). The festivities begin with my birthday, then Limerick’s two weeks later, continue through Thanksgiving a week after that, pick up my husband’s birthday about two weeks after Thanksgiving, and end with Christmas and New Year’s about two to three weeks later. Adding to this festive spirit that strikes me at the beginning of November is the fact that the weather here finally becomes cool and crisp right around the same time. It finally feels like the world is ready for cookies and hot chocolate and pot pies and stews and fresh bread and festive music (I try to wait on the Christmas music but I feel so ready for it!). There’s just something so much nicer about baking with all the windows open and a cool breeze wafting through the house than with the windows shut up and the AC on trying to combat the triple-digit temperatures outside…
{pretty}
In the few weeks between “hot” and “freezing” (“freezing” having a very generous definition for us wimpy Phoenicians), we spent almost all our time outdoors and fell in love with our little park. (see the pants and long sleeves? I think it was in the high 70s when we were there… we really are wimps about the cold).
{happy}
I’m always trying got encourage the boys to get out of the built environment (as much as possible given that we live in a very urban context) and lately I’ve been working on getting them to walk on the grass instead of on the sidewalk. It’s not as smooth and stable so they don’t prefer it, but Rondel was more than happy to run into the grass in order to give that big tree a hug.
It reminds me of the library I grew up going to as a little girl (in semi-rural Pennsylvania) – my mom and I would always stop to hug the big oak tree in the front. It makes me happy to pass that on to my son now.
{funny}
Limerick gets super focused sometimes and he always looks so fat and grumpy when he does 🙂 It’s neat seeing him so engaged in what he’s doing though.
{real}
Rondel used to be quite nervous around slides, but as he’s gotten older he’s gotten a lot more comfortable with them. Limerick suffers from no such anxieties… now my only difficulty is trying to keep Limerick from going up the same slide that Rondel’s trying to go down!
I hope your November is beautiful and joyful as well. Head on over to Like Mother, Like Daughter for the link-up today!
Sometimes God answers your prayers for discernment and direction by shutting the door you’d hoped to walk through.
My husband and I received one of those answers yesterday and responded by watching “Inside Out” and eating almost a whole batch of Smitten Kitchen’s chocolate caramel crack. (Which is pretty much the best stuff ever for dealing with disappointment, or just for enjoying on the sly every time you walk past the freezer where you’re trying to save it for holiday gifts…).
It’s just, sometimes the path in front of us is beautiful and we can’t wait to walk forward on it, and sometimes it’s an ugly and desolate road. Sometimes it’s a smooth and level walkway, and sometimes it’s a steep and rocky trail. And the thing is, it’s easier to endure for the long haul when the surroundings are pleasant and the walking is easy. It’s easier to sing songs on the trail and stop to take pictures of the scenery when you’re not laboring just to catch your breath with every step.
The hardest path I ever had to walk was through the darkness of depression. Knowing that God brought me through that treacherous valley gives me hope that He’ll bring me through this desert as well. They’re very different places, but the need to endure is the same, and the God who gives strength is the same.
I’m not going to deny that I was upset by God’s answer to this prayer we had offered up to Him. God doesn’t need me to pretend that I’m happy or that I understand when I’m not and I don’t. But I’m also not going to act as though this “no” defines my life right now, or let it color every other “yes” that He’s given me. He has blessed us in abundance, and if He chooses not to bless us in this way that we had hoped for, it will be ok. We will keep hoping and keep trusting, as we have been for the past few years, and we will keep working with patience and endurance on the pathway He’s given us.
It seems like a long, straight, foggy road these days. Stretching onward, infinitely onward, perhaps – although for all I can see, it could turn at any moment. I just keep putting one foot in front of the other, day in and day out, walking down the road, in hope.
Halloween came in the midst of my hard drive problems but fortunately my mom took some pictures on her phone! The boys are at an age where they each like to imitate the other, so I thought it would make the most sense for them to dress up as the same thing. So here are my little firefighters:
This was Rondel’s third Halloween but the first we’ve celebrated as a family. He was only a few months old for his first, and I was overwhelmed with becoming a mom, so we passed; for his second, he still didn’t really grasp the concept and I wasn’t invested enough in it to make him a cool costume just for my own enjoyment. This time, he decided what he wanted to dress up as and was pretty adamant about us taking the time to find and assemble the costume.
As you can probably tell, he was pretty excited about it! This is after we got home from walking around our neighborhood. I was worried that he would be confused or overwhelmed by the whole concept of trick-or-treating, but he thought it was the most awesome thing ever. He would march right up to people, say “trick-or-treat!” and reach right into their bowl of candy! Sometimes he had trouble remembering to take only one piece…
Our actual “neighborhood” is a townhome complex and no one had lights on or expected kids to come around, so we walked across the street to an actual neighborhood with homes and families, and there were tons of fellow trick-or-treaters, decorated houses, and people just sitting on their driveways hanging out. It’s a nice Arizona tradition that makes Halloween into a mini block party, with everyone visiting outside. There was an old woman who kept giving my kids more candy because they were so cute, a young single guy hanging out on his pickup truck with a jack-o-lantern lit up by a phone, a couple of Royals fans who kept us updated on the game, and more. There were whites, blacks, and Hispanics; old people and young people; single people and families; and everyone was expansive and friendly in this sort of community holiday spirit.
And that’s why I celebrate Halloween – for that community, that connection with my neighbors, that smile on my toddler’s face and the mirrored glow on the face of the grandmother giving out candy wishing her own babies lived closer. It is a good thing to enter in to the culture around us, to sanctify it by our presence, instead of always backing out and creating a sub-culture. There are times when it is the best choice for our families to step out of the mainstream culture, to a greater or lesser degree, but for us Halloween is a perfectly safe and fun way to be a part of our neighborhood, so why not enjoy it?
Rondel has been asking me to sing firetruck songs to him every day for the past couple weeks, typically with some very unique requirements:
“Sing firetruck song bout firetruck with no wheels!”
“Sing firetruck song bout firetruck with no siren!”
“Sing firetruck song bout firetruck with no light!”
“Sing firetruck song with tow truck in it!”
And so on.
Needless to say I don’t actually know any songs that fit these specifications, so I’ve been making them up and now my own silly firetruck songs are stuck in my head. For posterity, and maybe for a laugh, here are the two current favorites:
“There once was a big red firetruck
Who used to drive all around the town
If there was a fire, he’d put the fire out
And all the other cars would cheer and shout
‘We love you, we love you, big red firetruck!
Thank you, oh thank you, for putting the fire out!’
Then one day, his wheels fell off
So now he couldn’t drive anywhere
He was stuck in the fire station sitting on the ground
And if there was a fire, the building just burned down.
‘Where are you, where are you,’ the other cars would shout,
‘We need you, we need you, to put the fire out!’
But then a tow truck drove into town
He saw the big red firetruck sitting on the ground
He bought him some new wheels so he could drive around
And the big red firetruck went to put the fire out.
‘Hooray, hooray,’ the other cars all say,
‘Thank you, nice tow truck, for giving the firetruck new wheels!'”
And then the song that really gets him thinking about deep moral quandaries (seriously, he goes through a roller coaster of emotions with this one, and his face gets all concerned and focused):
“A little tired firetruck drove down the road
He’d had a long day and he wanted to go home
But first he thought he’d take a nap right there by the road
So he pulled off to the side and soon he fell asleep.
While the little firetruck slept there by the road
A big green tow truck happened to drive by
I think this tow truck must have been a mean guy
Because he took the firetrucks wheels and left him all alone.
When the tired little firetruck woke up from his nap
His wheels were all gone and he was stuck there on the ground
There was nothing he could do but sit there and cry
He was so sad because he had no wheels.
But then a nice tow truck was driving down the road
And saw the little firetruck so sad and all alone
He towed him into town and helped him get new wheels
And the little tired firetruck was so happy once again.”
The crazy things we do for our kids… I wonder if he’ll even remember that we used to sing silly firetruck songs together in a year or two. That might be better than having to sing them every day for that long though!
The things our children find fascinating our not always the same things we find interesting, and to control their play and exploration is to imply that our interests and likes are better than theirs.
Limerick is captivated by many things I would pass right by on a regular basis: the sunlight hitting the wall through a high window, the pattern of stucco on the exterior walls, the trajectory of a mason jar rolling on the ground. I want him to be able to see the world through his own unique eyes as long as possible, to develop a sense of the value of his own perspective, and not to think that he has to align his interests to the interests of others.
Rondel is similarly interested in things that don’t hold much fascination for me – mostly, right now, every single wheeled vehicle on the road. As much as I’m tempted to try to redirect his interest to something more exciting for me, I’m choosing to learn about cars with him, joining him in his interest so that he can talk about them and learn more about them and deepen his attention and focus through them. I don’t want him to think that his interests are unimportant to the person who matters most to him in the whole world.
But sometimes, I really don’t know why they’re interested in something, or even what exactly has captured their attention. What do you think is so fascinating about this pole? 🙂
One of the things I love about parenting is watching the relationship between my two boys grow and deepen. I love seeing Limerick’s eyes light up when he hears Rondel coming, and hearing Rondel ask if Limerick’s done eating yet so he can play with him. I love the way Limerick does his best to copy everything Rondel does, and participate in every silly game Rondel comes up with. I love how Rondel snuggles up to Limerick and lets him climb all over him.
Tonight they were looking out the window together:
Limerick isn’t as fascinated by the cars outside as Rondel is, but he’s extremely interested in anything Rondel happens to be doing – and Rondel, despite his sometimes intense dislike of being touched, is growing a lot more tolerant of Limerick’s close and enthusiastic physical presence.
Instead of getting upset because Limerick was in his space, he just moved over and made room for his brother to look out the window too.
Then all of a sudden they both turned around and realized I was there watching them!
Someday they’re going to go on all kinds of adventures together, those two – and I can’t wait to see what they’ll do 🙂
It is quite a privilege to watch a very young child playing independently. I brought stackable cups and a random bowl to the park with us and simply set them on the ground to see if the boys would notice or be interested.
The complete focus, the utter absorption into the task the child has created, is a beautiful thing. Limerick had no direction about what to do with those cups: he was able to investigate their properties himself and decide what he wanted to accomplish.
Sometimes it’s tempting to step in and offer a hand, whether to direct their play (so it makes more sense from our adult perspective) or to provide a layer of support and security (so we can ease our own adult anxieties). But though his steps might be shaky, Limerick doesn’t need me right next to him. Letting him walk by himself, as he so very much desires, will strengthen his independence and self-confidence; constantly shadowing him with offers of help will begin to convince him that he is incapable on his own.
In deciding to go get the blue cup and bring it over with the other cups, and in carrying out that task by himself, he learned about planning and execution. He practiced balancing in a myriad of different positions, and began to grasp concepts of distance and the size and reach of his own body. It may look painfully slow to the observer, but his brain was working furiously the whole time to assimilate and respond to all the incoming information.
His estimation was about an inch or so off – I could have reached over and pushed the cup that much closer to him, but instead he was able to discover that if he stretched out just a bit father than he would normally be comfortable with, he could get the cup to roll towards him and would then be able to pick it up.
Finally – success! Cup in hand, he turned and walked back over to his previous play station, where the other cups and bowls were waiting for him. He had set a goal for himself, worked hard to accomplish it, and carried out his plan, without any adult input, interaction, or assistance. The feeling of a job well done, of new skills mastered, is an incredibly positive one, so why would I want to take that away from him by offering unneeded help? Our babies will surprise us with their abilities and intelligence if we give them the opportunity.
It is not, in the long run, helpful for a child for us to be constantly in their space, giving them adult input, direction, and aid; it shuts down their creativity and hampers their development toward independence. It is our silent and somewhat removed presence – there if they do need us, but unobtrusive when they do not – that can be truly empowering for the young child at play.
It’s the small moments together, building on each other, each one fleeting, that make a relationship strong and prove the reality of one’s love.
I will hold you close to my heart forever – I will carry you in my love.
a cloudy rainy Sunday calls for baking and naps! So Rondel and I made some cardamom-spiced pear bread and wintry oatmeal cookies together while Limerick took a nap with Daddy. It is hard to make time to spend one-on-one with Rondel and this hour or so was really special for both of us.
I brought all the ingredients, utensils, and bowls down to the kitchen floor and together we poured, stirred, cracked eggs, and explored with all our senses! Rondel noticed the difference between how brown sugar and white sugar felt on his hands, and between how they poured out into the mixing bowl. (I measured the sugar out into bowls and let him dump them into the big bowl – my “little” bowls were probably too heavy, though, as he ended up dropping them into the butter.) He felt the difference between the fine powdery baking soda and the coarse grainy salt – and liked the feel of the baking soda so much that he put his whole hand in the box to feel more! He felt the cool smooth pool of vanilla and the cloudy soft pillow of flour. He felt the firm unbroken shell of the eggs, heard the crack as he hit them against the bowl, felt the sharp fragmented edges and the slippery egg white as he tried to pry them open from his little starter hole.
He tasted the oats, dry and chewy, texturally pleasant but rather bland; he tasted the walnuts, cold and crunchy from the freezer; he tasted the cranberries, tart and bright on the tongue; and he tasted the white chocolate chips and didn’t want to stop tasting them! He observed the funny folds and crevices of the walnuts, and used his imagination to see silly cars and trucks and animals in their fantastic shapes. He saw how the white flour disappeared and was absorbed into the dough as we stirred.
And what he didn’t do faded into the background, and we ignored it. Some other day he’ll want to feel the butter, help grease the bread pans, taste the creamy-grainy mix of butter and sugar, and lick the bowl with me. He can grow in his experiences in his own way, and at his own speed, and we can still have one of the best afternoons we’ve had together in a long time.
(I didn’t take any pictures because I didn’t want to step out of the moment with Rondel, so you’ll just have to imagine the cuteness and the mess! Sorry about that!)
little thoughts 