Post Script

An English friend shared this video with me yesterday, saying that "the little boy in the video reminds me of Charlie." He was quite right. And so, as a follow to my last post, I'll share it with you.





Love that Bud!

Only EIGHT DAYS TO ADVENT!

AAAAAAGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

More on Whiteboards

Monday, as I wrapped up math with Pixie, I looked around for Bud. I have developed an internal timer for when one of the boys has been off the radar for too long. Fully expecting to find him down on the terrace (good) or hanging out at a neighbor's (not-so), I looked out the sliding glass door.

And then I saw him, his back to me, sitting on the top step with his back hunched over his Home Depot Kids' Workshop whiteboard. He was fully engaged with whatever it was he was writing: he would write, then wipe off the word with the mistake, and then carry on. Finally I opened the door, telling it was time for him to get his shoes on and head up to Chinese (there is another homeschooling family a few houses up the street where he and Pixie go twice a week to take Chinese. How amazing is that?!?).

By that time, I had already seen what he was working on. Knife to my heart.




I probed, trying to figure out what was behind this. He decided he wanted to talk about it after Chinese, so I let him go. I figured it was our most recent interaction, when I was in the garage shifting laundry. He threw a stick into the garage from outside (blindly, apparently) and it hit me. In response, I was not very nice.


When he returned from Chinese he jumped right back into the conversation, saying no, it had been a little while since I had hurt his feelings. What usually hurt his feelings was when I was harsher than I needed to be.

(Which was the case in the garage. But he didn't say so.) He did say that he didn't like to tell me when I hurt his feelings because he didn't want to hurt my feelings. (Yikes.)

But that's just like my empathetic Bud.


I should probably mention at this point that he wouldn't leave for Chinese until he had finished the "I still love you..." bit of the message. Even though it made him late.

I am grateful for his generous spirit. Bud is more quick to forgive than anyone I know. He paints a picture for me of what grace looks like; and he holds no grudge. I am so grateful to have this sweet, strong-hearted boy with us. Grateful that he wipes out his resentment like his mistakes on a whiteboard.


And I am also glad to be reminded that this tough little guy is tender inside. Which is just how I would like him to stay. Tender towards his family, tender to those in need, tender to the whispers and shouts of the Holy Spirit.

And yes, glad to be called to be called out, to have the opportunity to apologize and be forgiven, glad for the restoration that brings to relationships. Glad for the incredible resiliency my children demonstrate.


And other things they demonstrate, too.

Sunday Snapshot

Today's Sunday Snapshot is brought to you by...whiteboards.


J regularly takes the kids to Home Depot's Kids' workshops. they learn how to use tools to build things...Pixie had been going for almost six years now, and that girl can swing a hammer. But here is Bud with the white board they made in September.

Yes, it has about seven pieces. It seems that whenever I take the kids alone (which has been maybe twice) there's a twenty-piece biplane to build. We now preview online to see what we're getting ourselves in for. And by "we" I mean J.

Last week Wombles called me in to see his latest drawing:


I was soooo excited! He still doesn't know all of his letters, true, but that's a pretty good artistic representation of his name. I'm so proud.

Even though since then I've found his name-picture carefull penned all over. On the table. on plates on the table. Inside random gift boxes I find.

Happy Sunday!

The Next Day

So, it's been a while. J went out of town, the computer died, he fixed it, we recovered. Except that we're both reeeeealy behind in our work. So. I should be planning and prepping my Spanish classes for this week. Until next time, for all of the Mimis, Nonas, and Grandmas out there, here's a peek: some photos I took the day after my last post.




One of the great joys of the past week has been watching Pixie, Bud and Wombles really engage Nutmeg and play with her. The more her personality is revealed, the more fun they have with her. And she has a personality to reveal! Yowza.


I love watching the affection grow and bloom!

Wombles

I missed a post about Wombles' fourth birthday. But today, nearly a month later, he had his 4-year-old check-up. He was AWESOME.

He always is.

He had two shots, and is by far the bravest of the three "bigs" about that. He barely sniffled. And he took them so calmly, squeezing my hands and looking the other way...at the lollipop jar.




He chatted up the doctor:


Dr: "What are you going to be for Halloween?"
Wombles: "A blue ninja named Jae." (and on, nonstop, re: the ninjas, for a long, long time)

Dr: "What do you like to do with you mom?"
Wombles: "Play GAMES!"
Me: (inwardly): Is now when I worry about the ethics of stacking the deck in CandyLand? So that I lose...quickly?


Dr: "What's your favorite food?"
Wombles: "Pepperoni PIZZA!"
Bud: "What about strawberry shortcake?"
Wombles: "Oh, YEAH!"
Bud: "He actually has lots of favorite foods."
Me: (inwardly) C'mon, his favorite foods are all fruits! That's what he eats! Won't somebody PLEASE bring up in front of the doctor that we call him fruit-bat at home? NO? Thanks a LOT.

Dr: "What do you like to do with your dad?"
Wombles: "Play checkers!"

Dr: "Can you jump? Good. What about hop on one foot?...the other foot?"
Me: (inwardly) "Can you stop hopping? Please? She knows you can do it now."

He aced his hearing and vision screenings. And he gave the required sample-in-a-cup.

HE'S GROWING UP!




This afternoon, he may or may not have had a tantrum that included ONE of the following*:

• I won't eat broccoli!
  
• I'm running away to live at the Joe-Joe's factory!
  
• If you put me in time-out in my bed, you have to make it. AND pay me.
  
• You're not my mother. You're just an ORDINARY WOMAN!

Can you guess which one it was?


Good thing he's pretty cute!

Reason #8,412

HE loves ME.


I am spoiled. Big time.
We all know it.
He brings me tea in the mornings.
Every. Morning.
And by "morning" what I really mean is usually before I get out of bed.

And by "tea" I mean PG Tips.

He makes me want to get up and get going.
That may be part of the plan. We do have four children who like to get up early.

This is a man with a sense of humor.

The kind that comes in with steaming hot tea and whispers, "I'm sorry. I went to make your tea and we were all out of PG Tips. I had no idea we were so low!...but I thought maybe you could make do with Fortnum and Mason?"

That is wrong on so many levels:
(1) sorry
(2) went to make your tea
(3) responsible for keeping up with the Tips
(4) "make do" and "Fortnum & Mason" in the same sentence


But before I can even respond, he says, "Don't worry. I've already ordered more PG Tips. It should be here day after tomorrow. And I've signed us up for a subscription, so it'll be automatically delivered from now on..."

Oh, he makes me laugh! And happy to get up in the morning.

Nine Months of Nutmeg

Oh, Nutmeg. What did we ever do without you? And what a splendid ninth month you had!



This month you became a maniac for cheerios.
You outgrew everything but your 12-month clothes.
You pretended --for a few days--that getting up at four a.m. was the new black.

You enjoyed playing peek-a-boo.
Your two bottom teeth really came in.
You fought to hold your own spoon at mealtimes. I finally gave you your own to hold while I fed you.

You learned to sit up all by yourself. Without falling over.

Congratulations! It's a whole new world!

This is not the most flattering photo, but it may end up being the last to show her gummy upper gums:


The past few days have been a little rough as far as teething goes, and I expect her two little top "teefies" (it's a technical term) to break through any day now. I don't know whether I'm hoping they will or not...I will miss the gums...but not the grumps.

And this? We love this look. It usually means she's heading for a sloppy, drooly nip at whoever's nose she's aimed at.

*Baby kiss incoming! Repeat! Baby kiss incoming!!*

I would like to say that almost all of the photos I took on her ninth mesaversary were smily ones. I think this had something to do with it:


We love our Nutmeg!


I would also like to point out that she is currently only 9.5 months old. :)