It goes so fast

Seven months ago tomorrow, we first met Nolan Oliver face to face.

Our little guy is so full of life and vigor. He just eats it up. I love the fervor with which he attacks life. It's awesome to watch.

Instead of crying at fireworks, he excitedly rocked on my lap, clapped his hands and appreciatively oooh-ed and aaah-ed. He loves his big brother and is entertained by everything Matthew does. He thinks Matthew is hilarious. Except when he steals Nolan's toys. Then he lets Matthew know what's up. He is not to be trifled with just because he's younger.

I cannot believe the things I have let him eat lately. I could dedicate a Not Me post just to that. Avocados, banana and ice cream. Mac n' cheese, oranges and watermelon. Animal crackers, whole ones gobbled right up. If it's headed toward our mouths, he wants it. Badly. And he's a determined little fellow when food is involved. He's so cute to watch, testing things about, mashing away with his gums.

Our baby is social, happy, exuberant and determined. But he is also a precious sweetheart. He lights up when his sees his daddy's face every morning and he buries his head so preciously in my hair when he's tired. He loves to rub his soft blanket against his face and play with his own hair to relax. I love his chubby cheeks and little toes and his happy, gummy smile. His contagious giggle inspires me to be funny, just so I can hear it again. I love my little Nolie-pie.

Tonight our neighbors were shooting off fireworks, so we went over to say hi. They just had a baby recently, so I grabbed a package of newborn diapers that I had never opened to pass on to her. As I started to hand the diapers to her, she told us that her baby passed away two days ago. We were shocked and had no idea what to say. Except that we were so sorry and would pray for them. I felt awful holding this giant bag of babyness in my hands as I continued to talk to her. You know life is like a vapor, but sometimes it really hits home. We walked back into our house, checked on Nolan, kissed Matthew on the head and told him we loved him.

As Bob and I listen to the miscellaneous fireworks exploding all around us tonight, we are very thankful to be in our darkened house with our two little boys sleeping soundly in their beds. We have so much to be thankful for.

unscripted

I am convinced that the best moments in life are the unscripted ones. The ones that take you by surprise. No anticipation, just spontaneous joy. A few hours ago one of those moments popped in on us and I'm so glad it did.

After an already fantastic evening with my parents, enjoying the weather and our outside mall, Matthew spotted the fountain. My usually overly cautious boy jumped right in without hesitation. With all his clothes on. Without a care in the world.

He put his crocs on the spouts and waited for the fountains to spray, spending his shoes flying. The stunt never grew old. The event brought irresistible laughter. From all of us. Every single time. And every time, Matthew grew more and more wet. Until there wasn't a dry spot on him and he was shivering like an ice cube. (If ice cubes shivered - let's just pretend they do).

I scrambled for a makeshift change of clothing. My messy diaper bag came in handy. Saved the day, I may have proclaimed proudly. At the bottom I found a crumpled pair of shorts. Clad in those and Nolan's baby blanket, we carried our wet adventurer to the car. He was cuddly and happy as a clam. Assuming that clams are very happy little critters, of course.

Hooray for spontaneity.

Hooray for life.

Hooray for the heart of a child.

Thank God for moments like these.

_____________________________

(And two more hoorays that are begging to be said:

1. Hooray for Spell Check. I had an embarrassing amount of errors in this post before I ran it. Including the word embarrassing.

2. Hooray for the camera feature on Bob's cell phone. )

SPLENDOR

There's a phrase in an old Chris Rice song that has fascinated me since I first heard it years ago. The lyrics talk about him drifting off to sleep and dreaming of heaven,


"Deep enough to dream in brilliant colors I have never seen..."

As a designer I like color. I think in color. And I am completely intrigued by the concept that even the colors we see are tainted by our fallen world. That there may be brilliant colors we have never even seen. Beauty. Splendor. Real freedom. One day we will know it and our King in a way we are incapable of around here. But I love catching glimpses of splendor in our day to day.

Ooohing and aaahhing at fireworks with my little family tonight was like that. It lasted less than a half hour, but the glow of the exploding colors reflected in their awestruck little eyes made me smile inside and out.

We finally got noise-sensitive Matthew outside to watch them this year. He even removed his hands from his ears for the smaller ones. Before the display began, he wanted to see blue fireworks. But once the show started, he changed his tune. "I love ALL the colorful ones!" he proclaimed.

Nolan seemingly dug the whole experience too. His eyes drank it all in while he giddily sucked on the left over goodness on my ice cream stick.

A little tantrum involving our pre-schooler, a pricey glow stick and the word "no" reminded us that we are not there yet. We still see through a glass darkly. On occasion we are all still lured by the dim light of a glow stick, forgetting the pure, perfect light of Jesus that outshines all imitation. Matthew's meltdown was a reminder to stop coveting silly little distrations and to enjoy and run after the exploding splendor that is already mine in Christ.

"Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known. " I Corinthians 13:12

Sunburnt and Waterlogged

That pretty much describes us this morning.

Our week has been jam-packed with summer fun. You name it, we probably did it. Or at least thought about doing it.

A pool day at our friend Amy's house kicked off the fun early this week. While Amy and I chatted and enjoyed the sunshine, Matthew and his two friends, Avery and Lucas, had a blast in their kiddie pool until they were so tired they could barely move their lips to speak. When your kid can't even raise his hand to wave goodbye to his best buds, you know he's had a good day. Wednesday we joined our playgroup at the splash pad at the beach. It was like a playgroup reunion. Everyone came out of the woodwork. Moms and their new babies and everything. It was a great day to catch up while watching the kids run and splash in the fountains. We picnic lunched and Nolan decided that he was too old for a bottle and was ready to drink apple juice from Matthew's cup. He guzzled it like a champ. If you ignored the copious amounts of backwash.

Because we hadn't had enough fun for one day, we invited our friends over for a BBQ in the evening. The adults ate while the kids played in our little kiddie pool. We threw our Little Tykes slide into the pool and it kept them busy for hours. Watching them was a joy. It was like watching myself as a child, seeing them giggly and carefree, enjoying the summer night.

Yesterday we met my sister-in-law Lisa, my niece and nephew and my mother-in-law at the Warren City Center fountain. Because she was two days past her due date, my friend Amy met us there with her kids too -- as a distraction to pass the day. The kids had a blast, despite Matthew's proclamation earlier that day that he was "all worned out from fountains!"

Last night we visited my in-laws and walked for ice cream. Today we're headed out to the annual fair/picnic at my parents' church. Why stop now? Summertime has arrived and we have officially dived right in.

And so forth...

I am convinced that sometimes kids have no idea what we are talking about. And we don't even realize it.

As much of the English language as they may have admirably conquered, there is just so much to learn.

We love our local library. As you may already know. From this. Or this. Or even this (my personal favorite). Earlier this morning I was reading to Matthew and Nolan from one of our recent library selections. The Runaway Dinner by Allan Alhberg to be exact.

It's a fast-paced story about a sausage named Melvin who hops off a little boys plate and makes a run for it. He is chased by an amusing cast of characters, including furniture, utensils, pets and even some vegetables. And, of course, the hungry little boy. Whose name is Banjo if you must know. Banjo Johannes if you ask Matthew.

So. I was reading away -- as fast as I could read, because the story kind of inspires a speedy tongue -- thinking that Matthew was right there with me. Understanding the humor in every word.

On about the 10th time through, I read the line, "Melvin, meanwhile, was still racing away, with the knife and the fork close behind, and the little plate, and Mr. and Mrs. . . . and so forth."

Matthew interrupted me. "Mommy? Who's So Forth?"

With peas named Peter, Percival and Paul, a cat named Mildred, a sausage named Melvin, a baseball named Marlon, a frisbee-loving plate called Saskia and French-speaking french fries named Fifi and Francois, I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Who can blame him?

Despite the confusion, it's a funny book. If you're in the market for one. Lot of running and chasing and diligent little vegetables and tables and chairs and so forth.

Not Me! Monday

Welcome to Not Me! Monday! This blog carnival was created by MckMama. I don't know if she's doing it this week, due to a crazy week with her baby Stellan. If you haven't ever visited her wonderful site, I highly recommend it. Not only is she fun and funny, but she is also a bright light for Jesus.

Here the story of what I definitely did not do this week:

I did not think that my little Nolie was soooo cute playing in the big tub this week that I just had to take his picture and capture the moment. Nope, not me.

The flash, however, was not making him blink. Every. Single. Shot. I was not getting frustrated because I wanted to capture is precious, happy face on film. (Or digital media, to be more accurate). My husband did not come in, agree he was adorable and then grab the camera and try himself. With the same result. Nope, not us.

I did not come up with the bright idea (low-tech/ridiculous solution) to cover the flash with my finger. Nolan did not keep his eyes open, only to have the shots turn out really blurry instead.

And lastly, Nolan did not suddenly throw himself backward in the tub. I, being an ever calm parent, did not panic. I did not scream. Nor did I scoop him out of the water like Wonder Woman before his nose even went under water. Nope, not me.

I most certainly DID NOT THROW MY CAMERA IN THE WATER in that moment of mayhem. That would be... Well. Beyond frustrating. And maybe a little bit funny. But it didn't happen to me, so I'm not frustrated or laughing.

In case you're wondering, the memory card was not salvaged. My husband was not able to rescue the camera's last moments in time. And you will not find the pictures below:

In retrospect, I guess the first shot was pretty cute. But I didn't quit here. Nope, not me!

Almost...

And not quite... but still cute!

p.s. if you haven't yet, read my last post to see all the crazy ways God did (not) bless us this week!

a day full of blessings

Yesterday my friend Amy told us that we had to visit a certain garage sale today. She said it was filled with Matthew stuff. So this morning with the ground still wet from the morning rain, Matthew, Nolan and I took a long walk through our neighborhood to check it out. Matthew was geeked beyond belief before we even got there. I had mentioned the magic words: dinosaur stuff.

And he was not to be disappointed. There was more dinosaur stuff than any little boy could ever dream of. A sweet nine-year-old boy was personally selling off his Imaginext collection -- most of them for only 50 cents. We also found a beautiful, glossy, five-foot long dinosaur puzzle, a Land Before Time movie, a doctor kit, and a Discovery Toys foam shape learning game. And some dinosaur pjs. All for next to nothing. It felt surreal. Like a mirage made just for us.

And the homeowner was the nicest woman. With two of the nicest kids I've ever met -- Joshua and Courtney. We talked forever. Her seven-year-old daughter dreams of being a children's book illustrator. How weird is that. It was exactly that kind of amazing day. She ran inside to grab her sketchbook and proudly shared her drawings with me. We exchanged info and she's going to come by one day and look at my stuff and talk about her artistic future.

Bob showed up in his car just in time to meet the wonderful family and help us get our loot home. Matthew was overjoyed all day. We now have a massive dinosaur world going on over here. And my little boy is lovin' it.

If that wasn't enough blessing for one day, the craziest thing happened at about 5:30 p.m.

There was a loud knock on the door. Generally no one drops in -- especially at that time. So Matthew and I ran to check it out. On the other side of the door were three people. A man, woman and their daughter.

"Are you Shelley?"

They had boxes in their arms. Which they were handing to me.

"Some friends wanted us to bring this to you."

I didn't know what to say. I don't know what I did say. Their arms were full of all the things we need most. Diapers. Wipes. Two huge cans of baby formula. Two huge jars of peanut butter. Jelly. Wheat bread. Cereal. Mac -n- Cheese. Bananas. Trail mix. And a giant container of animal crackers.

"God will take care of you guys," the man said.

If I wasn't sure before, I am now. There are only a few people who could know exactly what we would need. That Matthew exists only on PB&J and Mac-n-cheese and loves bananas for breakfast. Or that Bob's favorite snack is trail mix. They say they didn't have anything to do with it. Either they aren't fessing up or this is evidence of Matthew 6. We are worth more than the sparrows. And God knows what we need and knows how to provide it.

"Why are we getting a delivery?" asked a curious Matthew.

Because God is good.

Because we have beautiful anonymous friends.
(Thank you! whoever you are...)

And because, sometimes, God likes to knock our socks off -- just so we know that everything is going to be okay.