Scenes from the Circus: April Approaches

March is quickly passing. Each day brings us closer to meeting the next little member of our circus. The baby is growing well (Mama measured just a bit ahead of schedule at her last appointment) and certainly seems strong and lively.

The little guy is a frequent topic of conversation around here. The girls love to feel the baby move and to speculate about what he'll like -- whether we're talking about what to eat for dinner or where the baby should sit in the minivan. (On a recent trip to Babies R Us, Kathleen seemed confident that the baby would like a set of pink princess toys!) Of course, Kathleen does more of the talking; Madeline just likes to parrot whatever her big sister says.

Last week, Kathleen was sitting on Mama's lap (or what remains of Mama's lap) when she announced, "I really want a little baby."

"Well, that's a good thing," Mama responded, "because in a little while a little baby is going to come live at our house!"

Kathleen scowled for a moment, then turned to look in Mama's face.

"But I want a baby from your tummy named Indiana. . . and you keep talking about naming him something else!"

It's true. Mama has talked at length about naming this poor child something other than Indiana Jones, but she's the only one talking. No tactic has yet convinced Kathleen (or her father) that the baby should be named anything other than Indiana. We've talked about nicknames (pointing out that Kathleen is named Kathleen but called Sissy or Leenie and that Madeline is called Maddie Beth), but Kathleen is adamant that the baby be named Indiana, and not just called that. Daddy has acquired a keen ally in his firstborn!

Daddy and Kathleen were reading a bedtime story a few nights ago about the months of the year. Months are a new concept for Kathleen, so when they got to March Daddy explained that it's March right now. And when they turned to the page about April, Daddy started to explain about what might make April special.

"And in April, honey," Daddy began, "Baby Indy will come live at our house! Mama and Daddy will go to the doctor to take Baby Indy out of Mama's tummy, and then we'll bring Indy home to live at our house."

"But how?" Kathleen asked, "How will the doctors take Indy out?"

"Oh," Daddy replied, "The doctors are really smart and really good at their jobs. They know just how to take Indy out of Mama."

Kathleen frowned again, looked over at Mama working in the kitchen, then pressed on, "But will the doctors have to make a hole?"

Staggered by our three year-old's critical thinking skills, Daddy fell silent. Mama jumped in instead.

"No, honey. The doctors shouldn't have to make a hole. God has worked out a very special way to get the baby out of Mama. . . without having to make a hole."

Mercifully, this satisfied Kathleen.

And since then, Mama keeps thinking: let's hope they don't have to make a hole!

The girl's a quick study

Apparently, Madeline has this technology thing all figured out. If Mama or Daddy won't let her watch "Signing Time" or "Miffy and Friends," she'll just turn it on herself!

Well, that's a slap in the face

Kathleen woke in the still-dark hours of the morning Sunday, crying that she wanted a cup of cold water. Kathleen's our sleep-like-a-log sleeper; our child who, with what we have since learned is startling consistency, has slept through the night since she was a few months old. So we were surprised to hear her awaken, and quick to respond. As soon as I opened the door I knew what was wrong. The poor child had been sick hours earlier and slept right through it.

So we hustled her into the bathtub and the sheets into the washer. And although Kathleen initially protested that she didn't want a bath -- she just wanted to have some water and go back to sleep -- she was sweet and compliant and surprisingly affectionate. And aside from being a little groggy, the thing we noticed most was that Kathleen was very, very red. All over. If we were still in Hawaii, we might have thought it was a sunburn.

Between the redness and the sickness, we were a little concerned. That night had been the first night of a new medication for Kathleen. She'd been diagnosed with a bladder infection about 12 days before (not fun, let me assure you) and the pediatrician had prescribed a 10-day course of antibiotics to be followed by yet another antibiotic, which Kathleen will take until we know the results of more tests (those should be done Friday). It didn't seem like Kathleen was having an allergic reaction -- not exactly, anyway -- but we thought we should call, anyway.

By the time the pediatrician's office returned our call, Kathleen was fast asleep again. Jim and the nurse talked and decided that if she were still red when she woke, we'd call and bring her into the after-hours clinic. When Kathleen finally woke up (around 9:30, which would've been fantastic, had Madeline not decided to start her day literally 10 minutes after we laid back down in bed) she was still red, so we arranged for a visit to the clinic.

There, the doctor confirmed that it was not an allergic reaction and instead diagnosed Kathleen with slapped cheek fever. We've thought that Kathleen had that before, but since you can only have it once (and a doctor never diagnosed it before, either), we figure we were wrong! Anyway, we spent the rest of the day lying low -- reading stories, watching some dvds, playing Candyland, and -- of course -- reenacting the visit to the doctor with Kathleen's doctor kit.

Our still red little girl, relaxing with some toast and ginger ale, watching a movie. She'd been entranced by the movie in the doctor's office waiting room. When I proposed that we go home and watch a movie, she said (and I'm not making this up), "I think that sounds like a splendid idea!"

Getting sick on Sunday was a double insult to poor Kathleen. First, it meant that she couldn't go to the nursery to play with her friends at church. Secondly, we'd been planning to leave from church to go to Nan and Grandpa's for the week. This is exam week for Daddy, and we figured we'd give him a bit of peace and quiet by heading to the grandparents'. Kathleen couldn't understand why we wouldn't go, since the bags were all packed and waiting on the kitchen table!

We're still hoping to go to Nan and Grandpa's in a few days, and leave Daddy a chance to tackle a 48 hour take-home exam without the circus raging around him. But that's only if everyone stays relatively healthy. Wish us luck -- we don't seem to have much luck in that arena!

Delighted about dessert

A few weeks ago we made some chocolate pudding for dessert. We'd seen this post about making pudding in a plastic bag on Chasing Cheerios (a homeschooling/unschooling blog we enjoy from time to time) a while back, and we finally got around to trying it out. Kathleen enjoyed the "squishing" part of making the pudding in a plastic bag, but Madeline mostly enjoyed eating the pudding.

And then, just a few days later, we had to make a visit to the after-hours pediatrician's clinic. Our appointment was at 6pm, so the girls ate a very early (like 4:45!) dinner at home before we left. To reward the girls' good behavior at the appointment (especially Kathleen, who actually needed the appointment), we all stopped at Cold Stone Creamery on the way home. That made Mama and Daddy happy, of course, but the girls were ecstatic. (And they don't even know about mixing stuff into the ice cream!)

And for the record, Indiana seemed pretty excited about the ice cream, too. He just wouldn't settle down after that! Apparently everyone in this circus likes dessert!

Good, Clean Fun

We here at the circus have recently discovered a new favorite -- bath paints!

We spotted the "recipe" on the Crafty Crow (where else?!) a few weeks ago and finally gave it a try after a particularly messy supper of pasta with marinara sauce. The paints whip up in seconds with ingredients we always have on hand (baby bath soap, cornstarch, and food coloring) and the girls love them.

Although the link to the recipe features a muffin tin's worth of paint, we've pretty much stuck to one cup of paint per child. The recipe makes a fair amount, but we like to have two colors! (I've been thinking that next time we'll just do one batch and split it between the two cups and then dye it. I probably should've come up with that solution earlier, but I'm claiming pregnancy brain.) With some of Ikea's marvelously inexpensive paintbrushes, the girls happily paint away. And -- even better! -- I've found that the paints clean up far more easily than some of those brand-name bath crayons I've purchased. When we're nearly done with the bath I give the girls some wash cloths, and they just wipe their paint off the tub. (Washing it off the girls is even easier, since it's mostly soap!) They like the "erasing" almost as much as they like the painting. And that makes everyone happy!

Like a Child

One day some parents brought their children to Jesus so he could touch and bless them. But the disciples scolded the parents for bothering him.

When Jesus saw what was happening, he was angry with his disciples. He said to them, “Let the children come to me. Don’t stop them! For the Kingdom of God belongs to those who are like these children. I tell you the truth, anyone who doesn’t receive the Kingdom of God like a child will never enter it.” Then he took the children in his arms and placed his hands on their heads and blessed them.

Luke 10:13-16 (New Living Translation)

It's another rainy day at the circus, so the girls and I are camped out on the living room floor, playing with puzzles. Out of the blue, Kathleen leans in and peers up into my eyes.

"Mama," she says, "will you help me ask God for a rainbow?"

My heart wells up.

"Oh, sweetie," I answer, "of course I will."

So we bow our heads and pray, and we praise God for the rain He's sent, which our land so desperately needs. And we ask Him, if He wills it, to show us a rainbow. If He doesn't, we ask that He give us the eyes to see the beauty in all that He's placed around us.

And we say "amen," and Kathleen returns to her puzzles without another thought. I'm left thinking about her confident, childlike request. We've not seen many rainbows since we left Hawaii. What will I tell her if there's no rainbow? I lift up a silent prayer of my own -- for faith and for wisdom -- and set about making lunch.

A few hours later naptime is over, and I'm heading into Kathleen's room to get her. I know she's up; I've heard her bouncing around on her squeaky bed for about ten minutes. When I open the door, I see that she's perched on the edge of her bed. She's pulled open the long drape that covers her window and she's peering out.

I'm about to reprimand her for playing with the curtains (a known no-no), when she turns to me, beaming.

"Mama," she exclaims, "God made me a rainbow!"

At first I'm confused, and I think she's asking whether God will make her a rainbow, and I take a deep breath, preparing myself for difficult explanations. But my girl persists, challenging my fearful and faithless heart.

"Mama, look! My rainbow!"

I cross the room and pull the curtain open to look for myself. The rain of the morning has given way to sunshine -- and a rainbow, arching over the airfield.

We pause to to give heartfelt thanks for the rainbow, a gift which seemed impossible to me and inevitable to Kathleen, before we quietly hurry downstairs, so as not to wake little Madeline, who's sleeping in the next room.

Kathleen sits at the table for her afternoon snack. I dash out the back door with my camera, eager to snap a photo of "Kathleen's rainbow," but it's gone.

The rainbow has always been a sign of God's faithfulness (Genesis 9:13). But, for me, that afternoon it was more -- not only a sign of God's faithfulness, but also a fleeting glimpse of the faith I hope will last far longer than my daughter's fleeting childhood.

Not "Kathleen's rainbow," obviously, but one of the many rainbows we'd see in Hawaii. This one was photographed from the beach at Waimea Bay.

A Pretty Little Picnic

It's been rainy again this weekend, but about a week and a half ago we had a few brilliantly sunny days. We decided to make the most of the sunshine and we packed a picnic to join Daddy for a mid-week lunch on campus. Since it had been raining for days and days before, we couldn't camp out on a picnic blanket on the lawn. Instead we picked out some benches in front of a beautiful fountain. The girls couldn't have been happier.

We ate our lunches first. Madeline particularly enjoyed her pear.

Once we'd finished our lunches, we broke out the real fun: bubbles! We'd stopped to pick up new bottles of bubbles on our way to school -- one bottle each for Daddy, Kathleen, and Madeline. (I was planning to take photographs, so I needed my hands free!)

Before we knew it, Kathleen and Daddy had filled the air with bubbles, much to the amusement of the college students walking and biking by the fountain. Madeline had a little trouble managing her toddler-sized bubble set. Daddy helped her out a bit, though, and she caught on quickly.

Our lunch hour flew by. We soaked up the sunshine, chased after bubbles, and just enjoyed the chance to be together in the middle of the week. Eventually, though, we returned Daddy to his studying and we headed back for naps. We're happy for the sunny memory, especially since the rain has returned!

So, it's March

An actual conversation on the way to church this morning.

Daddy: Hey, you didn't happen to remember to bring the checkbook with you, did you?

Mama: Um, well, it should just be in the pocketbook in the baby's bag. (Rifling through over-packed diaper bag.) Yeah, I've got the checkbook.

Daddy: Great. You're amazing.

Mama: But, uh, why were you asking? I mean, it's still February, so... (By way of explanation: we do our tithing on the first Sunday of the month, which is why Daddy knew we needed the checkbook and Mama was confused.)

Daddy: Actually, no. It's March 1st.

Mama: It's March? Today?

Daddy: Yes.

Mama: Wow. I missed that one. . .

A full minute passes.

Mama: Oh, good heavens! We're having a baby next month!