Gavin's Personality

Right after getting caught pulling berries out of the basket behind him. He thought if he gave this big huge smile, he would get Mama to smile. It worked. :)

One of my favorite things about raising little ones is watching their personalities emerge. Gavin's personality has been so mysterious to me. It seems that once I start to think I understand how he's "wired", he abruptly changes dramatically. I guess he IS a little bit young to try and figure him out! That being said, there are some parts of Gavin's personality that have remained constant. He LOVES his mama, he LOVES to cuddle and be held, and he LOVES to climb and explore. However, a new and quite amusing part of Gavin's personality is his obsession with cleaning. He loves cleaning supplies, brooms, mops, and vacuum cleaners. And he actually uses them in the proper way! He loves to pretend to mop, sweep, and vacuum the floors. I even filled a spray bottle with water, and he will pretend to spray surfaces and then wipe them with a towel. Hilarious! He HATES dirty hands and will hold his hands out for me to wash if any sticky or wet substance comes upon them. I think he might get this slight 'obsession' from dear old dad. :) Here is some photo evidence of Gavin's emerging personality traits.

Spring Fever

It's been a wonderful start to the spring. It's only early March, and we've already enjoyed several days outside! Thank you God for this awesome gift of spring! On a particularly beautiful day last week, I grabbed the camera and the two youngest (Brayden was still napping) for some fun outside.

Landon stood still long enough for me to snap three photos of him, and then he sprinted away to play. :)

Gavin's regular smile...

Gavin's "I'm SUPER EXCITED!!!" smile...

Landon enjoyed hitting the baseball off of the tee...

While I enjoyed taking several photos of this hooded cutie gleefully exploring our yard for the very first time.

3 Little Monkeys

3 Little Monkeys jumping on the bed...

"Look, how cute!", their Mama said...

Mama grabbed the camera and the little ones said...

"Watch us monkeys jumping on the bed!"

People Love to Stare

So yesterday I confessed to my husband that every time I go out with the kids (meaning, to Target, grocery store, library, etc.), we get stares. Every single time. The stares come from a wide range of people-- old ladies, teenagers, working men and women... but seriously, everywhere we go, people are staring. I've tried so many times to figure out exactly what they are staring at. I've come up with a short list:

1) They are counting my kids and trying to figure out how close in age they all are.

Because my kids don't exactly have 'tall genes', they are all very small and look younger than they really are. I get asked if any of them are twins more times than I can count.

2) They are trying to figure out how old I am.

Because I started having kids so young, I do look a bit younger than many moms that have 3 kids. But seriously, I don't look 16!! Is it that strange that a woman in her 20's would have 3 young kids?

3) They are sympathizing that I have three boys and no girls.

This is one of the comments that I receive the most: "Wow, three boys. No girls, huh?" Now, I realize that people are just making small talk, but they make it sound as though having three boys is some sort of punishment.

Yes, these are three very good reasons why people might be staring at us as we go about our business. But you want to know the real reason I think people love to stare?

They are silently criticizing.

I say this not to condemn the people who do it, because I used to be one of them. Before I had kids. Before I had three young kids. Before I had three young, curious, active, not always obedient kids.

Back then, when I saw a mother in the store with her kids, and one of them started throwing a fit, or disobeying, or screaming, or whining, or running, etc., etc., I'd silently think to myself, "If that was my kid, things would be so different! I'd show them a thing or two." Well, now those are my kids. And my thought process has done a complete 360 (180?). Now, this does not mean that I let the kids go hog-wild anytime we are out. Actually, we have a list of "store rules" that we repeat before we go inside any store. The kids can tell you these verbatum and are actually quite good at heeding them. However, there are exceptions.

Sometimes they get tired of sitting strapped to a cart for an hour and begin to get antsy. Sometimes this feeling of being antsy can lead to irritating each other by say, poking one another. And sometimes poking one another can lead to shoving. And yes, before I had kids, I would look at the mother with the boys shoving each other in the cart and say, "Oh my goodness, how can that be? If those were my kids, they would be sitting nicely in the cart." And then I would look at the mother who loudly says to her boys "Boys!! No shoving!!", and think, "Wow, if I were that mother, I would be kinder when scolding my children."

No more. Now I simply look at that mother with an encouraging smile and continue on my parenting journey. This is my parenting journey, the one that God has called me to. I am doing my best day by day to raise my kids the way that He has called me to do in His word. Do I do it perfectly? No way. I am a work in progress. My kids are not perfect. So, stare if you must, but please know that with the Holy Spirit's help, I am doing my best. It's all I can do.

Landon's First Date

So since they were little, my friend Martine and I have been plotting to make sure our kids marry each other. We dressed them up as Belle and the Beast when they were tiny infants, made them hold hands for their first 4th of July, and just the other day, Landon and Samantha experienced their first date: sledding. OK, OK, I'm not that obsessed with them getting together in their future. But it was beyond adorable to watch Landon pull Samantha around on the sled. Without being prompted or asked. He loves his little friend "Sa-manta".

What were Brayden and Gavin doing while Landon and Samantha spent time together? Well, Brayden looooved racing down the hill on the round green sled, and Gavin enjoyed a nice snooze in the car. I kept it running, don't worry. And the cars were parked right at the bottom of the hill. So poor Gavy didn't get to enjoy his first sledding experience, although I doubt he would have liked it anyway. There's always next time.

Gavin Walks...

Hey Gavin... what are you doing way over there?? Come show me what's in your hand!

That's it! A little shakey, but a good start....

Keeping his eyes on the prize.

Come on, you're almost there...

Just a few more steps!

Hey Gavin!!!! You did it!!!

The Karate Kid

So Brayden continually asked me if he could take a karate class so he could learn "the moves", as he put it. I thought it was just a stage that would go away with time (like, for example, the movie "CARS", basketball, and the PBSKids website). Brayden tends to obsess about certain things for awhile, but then, poof, he moves on to something else... can anyone relate? So, I thought this 'karate' thing was just because he had watched Kung Fu Panda or something, but he persisted in asking to 'learn the moves'. So, I found a cheap karate class (actually, it was tae-kwon-do, but don't ask me the difference between the two.... no idea) that provided it's own uniform, and we were off and running into the world of martial arts. Fun for awhile, as Brayden learned to bow with respect for his teachers, say "yes sir" and "yes maam" when given instructions, and even kick/punch a few things while shouting "Kiya"! But, truth be told, Mama didn't want to pay for classes anymore, and Brayden stopped begging to 'learn the moves', so we quit karate. Or tae-kwon-do. Or whatever it was. It was fun, Brayden was cute, and now we have a fun Halloween costume to add to our collection. KIYA!!

Gavin Has a Party!

So, a whole month after Gavin turned one, I finally got around to throwing him a first birthday party! It was a busy household, filled with conversing adults and playful children, but it seemed like everyone had a good time. Gavin did not enjoy his first taste of birthday cake. At all. In fact, he has seemingly inherited Ronnie's dislike for having anything sticky stuck to his hands, and cried/whined as soon as he got frosting on himself. I should clarify: Gavin cried, Ronnie did not. Although Ronnie probably felt like crying after seeing the mess that Gavin made on his poor little hands. Needless to say, we didn't get the adorable "cake-all-over-the-face" first birthday picture of Gavin. Only ones that scream, "I hate this! Please get this stuff off of my hands immediately!" So there you go. It is what it is. At least he kept the silly hat on his head long enough for me to snap some photos.... :)

Excuse This House

Some houses try to hide the fact
That children shelter there,
Ours boasts it quite openly,
The signs are everywhere.

For smears are on the windows,
Little smudges are on the doors.
I should apologize, I guess,
For toys strewn on the floor.

But I sat down with my children
And we played and laughed and read.
And if the doorbell doesn't shine,
Their eyes will shine instead.

For when at times I'm forced to choose
The one job or the other,
I'd like to cook and clean and scrub,
But first I'll be a mother.

Author Unknown

I'm Gonna Miss This...

****So I read this lady's blog almost every day, as she has 4 young kids (3 boys, 1 girl) and I can relate to her quite a bit. I read this post today and just had to share. I didn't write it. So no credit to me. But I completely understand and thought it worthy of posting. Also, just FYI "Nuggey", "Small Fry", and "Big Mac" are nicknames for her kids, and "Prince Charming" is a nickname for her husband.*****

"How do you do it? How do you stay so calm with four young children?"

Part of it is just how God made me, I think. I am pretty calm with my children. And, honestly, often I stay calm even in the midst of chaos because, frankly, it's better than the alternative. A shrieking, freaking out mama is not going to make an already stressful situation any better. So, for the most part, I stay calm and try to be in the moment with my children.

But how do I do it?

There is one little bit of inspiration that literally descended upon me almost two years ago, while I was holding Nuggey in the bathroom, that has completely revolutionized my parenting. When I keep this truth in mind, I find it as easy as apple pie to stay calm in the midst of toddler chaos.

I remember that I'm gonna miss this.

It was dark, during the end of bathtime, and Prince Charming was gone. I was doing dinner, baths and bedtime myself those days, as my husband worked late. It had been, undoubtedly, a long day with the kids. Big Mac was three, Nuggey was one and a half and Small Fry was a baby. It is as clear as day still, this memory.

I was sitting on the toilet, drying MckNugget off after his bath. Small Fry, unable to roll, was laying on the floor of the bathroom on some towels. Big Mac was still in the tub. He was squawking to get out and Small Fry was bellyaching for attention. But I slowly wrapped Nuggey up in his towel, determined to stay calm, and cuddled him in terrycloth. I slowly rocked him back and forth in my arms and sang Rock-a-bye Baby.

As I wrapped up the song, I prepared to set Nuggey down and attend to the chaos that was the other children. After all, there were baths to finish, teeth to brush, diapers to put on, jammies to find and beds to tuck children into. But as he sensed me about to set him down, Nuggey tossed his wet head back in my arms and looked up at me. "Uh-gain!"

So I sang Rock-a-bye Baby one more time, but I told him it would be the last. Yet when I finished, he begged again for more.

I didn't want to do more. I didn't want to sing to him one more time. I was tired. Tired of children, tired of singing, tired of the day. I just wanted it to be over. But then, as if fairy dust was sprinkled from the heavens right onto my tired head, the entire reality of my future set in.

I'm gonna miss this.

I looked down at little Nuggey, his damp eyelashes long and dark batting at me, his tiny bottom cradled in my hand, his lanky yet chubby legs thrown over my arm, his body entirely dependent on mine as I held him in my lap, and I could see the future. Nuggey, a grown boy, sporting a football jersey and facial hair. It was going to happen, and soon. And while I knew there would be joys with that time in my life, when our young children are teenagers and beyond, it struck me like a ton of bricks.

When that time comes, I'm gonna miss this.

When Nuggey comes home from college, barely speaks a word to me and hibernates in his bedroom all summer, I'm gonna miss this. As my mind fast forwarded to the future, I knew that at that moment, I would give anything for 20 year old Nuggey to be a toddler again, just for one more hour, so I could rock him and sing while I stroked his wet head.

And here, years earlier, I was being given my wish. I was able to rock Nuggey, a nearly helpless babe in arms, one more time.

Given a new perspective from which to see, I sang Rock-a-bye Baby as many times as Nuggey would let me that night. Eventually Small Fry found her hands and started admiring them, and Big Mac grabbed a new tub toy. And I relished that time with my son in my arms, knowing that soon enough he would be all grown, and my arms would ache to hold him like a baby again.

I'm gonna miss this.

My mind cannot help but wander to those parents who have lost children. What on earth would they not give to hold their children again, even for a moment. I bet they would not complain about having to sing Rock-a-bye Baby one more time. Rather, they would probably give their right arm to sing it ten million times until their voice was hoarse and their eyelids closed in slumber.

And women with empty wombs who long and pray and ache for children? What honor am I doing them if I take for granted the fact that I have children, young children who are begging me to cuddle them, sing to them.

So, I determined right there and then in the bathroom to try to be ever thankful for the moments I do have with my children. I will not wish away their young years, always hoping to get more laundry done or other children dried off. I will relish each kiss, hug and song. Even as the macaroni flies and the Sharpie stains my table, even when there are midnight wailers and globs of Desitin under my fingernails, I know...

...I know I'm gonna miss this.