These are the days of our lives

I can't believe it's already September. The boy's birthdays are looming and the flames of time are hungry: before my eyes they're licking away the baby fat and all things infant. Tonight we went for a picnic at Backbone State Park. It was a new kind of family outing for us. Dan and I went one way, grilling and staying close to the food, and the boys did their own thing. Of course, this isn't the first time they've played on their own. It just felt different. Like a family without a baby. We haven't had that sensation in a while.

It was nice. We creek-stomped in absolutely frigid water. The boys were oblivious to the temperature and enjoyed every dirty, slimy moment.

It's just not FAIR!

Yesterday, while doing errands, we drove past a big colorful daycare. Kids were out playing on some very basic park equipment. Unfortunately, our errand left us standing across the street from this fenced in oasis and Harrison and Truman's big blue eyes zeroed in on it. They'd like to go play too. (Of course, we'd just been to the park, but that didn't seem to matter.) I carefully explained what a daycare was, and that they didn't have to go to one because Mom and Dad make sure one of us can stay with them. Oh, the disappointment and resentment! Truman didn't have the vocabulary, but Harrison did. "It's just not FAIR, Mom!" As soon as we were inside, he carefully arranged himself in his most pouty stance and made sure I noted it several times.

What am I supposed to do with THAT?

I spy with my little eye....

We just hit another milestone that breaks my heart a little bit. Recently, Harrison started going crossed-eyed so I took him into the optometrist. The doctor announced that Harrison had the worst far-sightedness he'd seen in 16 years of practice. SO, we got some pretty thick little glasses and he's been adjusting to them for the last day-and-a-half. He's a trooper and takes the whole thing very seriously.

Somehow, as a mom, it's just upsetting to know that he's struggled for that long, unable to perceive the world in the way he should. I'm really happy that we're able to fix that for him. But then, on the other side, is how I feel everytime I look at him in his new glasses. They magnify his eyes dramatically, and it makes him seem like an entirely different person. He seems more vulnerable and I want to protect him every way possible. He confided to my sister Katy that his glasses aren't cool, and I find myself faced with what I'm sure every parent has to deal with, but just a little bit earlier than I thought I'd have to. It's not that I want to fix him; I just want to make this world perfect and safe so that it can't hurt him, you know?

Anyway, I'm sure I'm getting just way too emotional about a rite of passage that tons of us have gone through. Here are some pics of my little star rocking his new specs.

Politics as Usual

When I was in the 4th grade, our school held a mock presidential election: Bush vs. Dukakis. Though we all know who won in real life, at West Burlington Elementary School, it was not cool to vote Bush. Josh Gahn and Nick Anderson wouldn't let me play four square when they learned of my political leanings. I became a closet conservative. But no more! The boys got their first taste of practicing self expression today.

We rocked a TEA (Taxed Enough Already) party armed with signs. It was a lot of fun, and it really felt good to come together with so many other people with concerns like ours. The turnout was great, and people couldn't get enough of Harrison and Truman in their ball and chains. They were definitely the camera's favorite.

After trying out various little flares, rockets, sparklers, poppers, etc., Truman decided the snakes were his favorite. He deemed them worthy enough for him to attempt to say, "Nake, nake!"

We also played on the beach and enjoyed an airshow, and I put Harrison to bed early so that he can go out late with Mom and Dad to ride the Ferris Wheel and catch the fireworks. I love this country. I love our heritage. God bless America!

Aaah!

So, we're moving in a week and I'm running around like a chicken with my head cut off. (I feel like a Patton every time I say that.) We're heading to Iowa where my parents are, and I'll be teaching there this fall. I hadn't really realized how long it's been since my last post, so I'll try to get some pictures on tomorrow. With all the packing, I found a paper I got for Mother's Day that I wanted to memorialize here so that I can toss the real thing. Here it is:

My Mom Test
by Harrison Gilbert

What is something Mom always says to you?
Please.

What makes Mom happy?
When I brush my teeth.

What was your mom like as a kid?
She was a little mom.

How does your mom make you laugh?
She wrestles me and tickles me.

How old is your mom?
Five.

How tall is your mom?
Five.

What is her favorite thing to do?
Play with her boys.

What does your mom do when you're not around?
She settles down.

What is your mom really good at?
Exercising.

What is your mom not really good at?
Ironing clothes.

What does your mom do for a job?
She goes to school.

What is your mom's favorite food?
Corn on the cob.

If your mom was a cartoon character, what would she be?
A dino.

How are you and your mom the same?
We both love corn on the cob.

How do you know your mom loves you?
Because I'm special.

I think I'll like to read this in about thirteen years when he's not being as cute. But I really did have a wonderful Mother's Day.

I've heard it said that you can't know joy without knowing pain. There'd be know way to appreciate the high without the low. Maybe that's why we have seasons. All I know is, this world can be simply breathtaking. And I love being reminded of the millions of miracles around me as I watch the earth wake up again. It just does something to my spirit. If you had spied on my 30 minute commute home on Friday, you would have noted my wind-whipped hair and the fact that my hand was sticking out of my sunroof for the duration.

But that's nothing compared to what I get to see when I get home. Here are some of my favorites:

--I was the sole disciplinarian for Tru today, and that doesn't happen a ton. The boy has a rebellious streak a mile wide, so it didn't take long for him to find his way to a time out. Afterward, I picked him up and was trying to extoll the virtues of not screaming like one is on fire while stealing toys from one's brother, and I couldn't get two words out before he would solemnly plant a firm kiss on my lips. I'd try again to finish the lecture, but no go--more kisses. It became comical pretty quickly--I think he was honestly trying to shut Mommy up by kissing her into submission. And it worked.

--Now that it's warm, the boys have a new favorite activity. The barren, dirty alley. They'll amuse themselves for a while on the second story deck, digging in the rock box and pushing the tractors around, but eventually they beg to "dig, dig, dig!" Apparently, little boys come programmed knowing that digging in a sandbox of rocks is good, but REAL digging is sitting on your heels in the dirt, stirring stuff up just enough to create little dustclouds around you and coat you with a nice thin film of grime. As completely opposite in disposition as my boys can be, they are united on this front. Dirt is king.

--Putting Harrison to bed has a fun perk. After I read or tell him a story, he immediately returns the favor. His stories tend to go in little trends for a couple of weeks until something stimulates him to make major changes. The current story line always begins with Big John and involves getting stuck in the mud. The stories vary a lot, night to night, but lately you can count on those elements. But the best part is after his story. Then he asks me if I'd like to know a secret. I always do. He won't ever tell until my ear is brushing his face, and then I get lots of warm, loud breaths, lots of gibberish I can't make out, and then a few random words like "apple" and "banana" and he pulls back with a huge smile. I assure him that's a great secret, and then I tell him a secret back.

--Dan is the man. He puts a lot of guys to shame. In the last couple of weeks, he not only found these two tiny ceiling fans and lights on clearance for a steal, but he somehow managed to get up into our attic and pull wires and . . . stuff (don't really know all the details here) . . . and put up ceiling fans in the boys' bedrooms that hadn't been set up for any fixtures in the ceilings at all. It amazes my to think of all the skills he's picked up since we got married. But my favorite part of that story is how he shopped around and found fixtures for a fraction of what they should have been. Have I been rubbing off or what?

I'm a chronic prodigal

I swear, half of my posts are apologies regarding how long it's been since my last post. No apology this time. If you're still bothering to check, then you obviously had enough faith to get you through that last lapse and can't be hatin' on me that much.

So--Happy Easter! We had an egg-cellent time today (honestly, I know they say puns are the lowest form of humor, but it seems to me that very witty people use them), and I'm putting up a kind of tediously long little vid for the grandparents, or anyone else who wants a glimpse of our Easter morning.



I hadn't talked to Harrison much before this season about the crucifixion or atonement, and thought that now would be a good time to start. Christmas is much easier--kids get birth. But I don't think he fully got that one. I tried talking to my little 3-year-old Sunbeam class today, but death, much less one on a cross for us, was a little out of their grasp. I kept getting interrupted with questions like, "What is 'killed'?" But even though I can't explain it to them yet, I hope my boys grow up with an understanding and gratitude for what we are celebrating today.