Back in the backyard

This week the sun finally returned to our little corner of the world. That meant that we could return to the backyard.  And thanks to the camera that Nan has loaned us, you can see how my little people felt about that...

Hooray for being outside!

John David discovered the shopping cart a few weeks ago, and he toddles around with it like a pro.  He doesn't seem much interested in walking yet, but he does love pushing a cart.  Taking the cart into the backyard was a double treat for him, because he loves being outside.  The kid's an escape artist -- he sees a door to the outside and he makes a beeline for it.  Front door, back door, whatever.  The kid just wants to be outside.  

Since he's not much interested in walking and very interested in being outside, I've finally given in and let John David crawl around, as long as he's got long pants to protect his little knees and sturdy sneakers to protect his sweet toes.  And does he crawl!  Through the lawn, into the playhouse, even down the concrete step. 

Surveying the step, sliding over the edge, and safely down!  Easy as 1, 2, 3!

While John David spent the afternoon crawling around and getting dirty, Kathleen set about cooling off.  We gave the girls spray bottles to water the wheat grass they grew for Easter; these have turned out to be favorite toys. They use them to water all the plants in the backyard (and some in the house).  And they've come up with some other pretty creative uses for them, too.

Watching the water.

Enjoying the water.  (Check out those shoes!  They're actually mine, but she insisted on wearing them.)

John David thought that looked like fun and wanted to try it out himself.  He was none too pleased at the prospect of someone taking the spray bottle from him.

"Don't you even try to take this bottle, Mama!"

And in case you were wondering about the rest of the crew, Miss Madeline woke up late from her afternoon nap and needed some extra snuggling.  And I was happy to oblige.

Sweet and slightly goofy self-portrait.

Sing as all the earth rejoices

Rise, O church, and lift your voices,

Christ has conquered death and hell.

Sing as all the earth rejoices;

Resurrection anthems swell.

Come and worship, come and worship,

Worship Christ, the Risen King!

We've spent today rejoicing in our risen Lord and enjoying friends and family.  It has been a splendid, splendid day.

I've been absent from here of late -- a few complications have kept me away.  (A lost camera, to name just one!)  But we'll be back soon, I promise.

Our Easter table:  eggs we dyed together, wheat grass proudly grown by the girls (but mostly by God, of course!), and tulips from Trader Joe's.  I simply can't resist a good deal on tulips.

Happy Easter, dear ones!

Third time's the charm: a promotion

Since we've been married, Jim has been promoted three times.  The first time, when we'd been married only a few months, he was promoted (to first lieutenant!  we were such babies!) in front of a squadron formation in the motor pool.  I was there, and I got to pin him, and I turned beet red when the squadron commander instructed Jim to kiss me in front of all the soldiers.  The second time, Jim was deployed to Iraq.  In due time, I got digital photographs of his commander pinning him with his captain's bars.

But the third time's the charm!  And so this time, we decided to have a proper little celebration.  Last week we invited Jim's colleagues from school, our friends from church, and our family to witness Jim's promotion to major.

We gathered in a small library in Jim's department at Stanford.   Even though the day was rainy and miserable, lots of people came to celebrate with us.

Our dear friend John flew in from Hawaii to promote Jim.  We were thrilled to see him, and he did an amazing job.  He explained about Jim's career and awards and he thoughtfully brought some Hawaii with him -- books for the children and gorgeous lei for Jim and me.

being pinned

Like most things at the circus, the ceremony didn't go exactly as planned.  First, John David started wailing, and I had to step out for a bit.  And then, during the reading of the orders, Madeline suddenly needed to be part of what was going on.

Instead of "attention to orders," we're paying attention to Madeline, 

who manages to get what she wants...

After the orders were read, John re-administered the oath to Jim.

Jim had roses for me and sweet bouquets for his "big girls."  They were thrilled.  In fact, they still are.  They love looking at their flowers, which are in mason jars on the china hutch.

Once the "official proceedings" were completed, Jim let the girls change out his epaulets.  They took their job very seriously.

We rounded out our celebrating with dinner at nearby Chicago-style pizzeria.  What better way to celebrate than with delicious, deep dish pizza?   We loved the chance to eat and visit with our family and close friends.

We're proud of you, Daddy!  And we had lots of fun celebrating you and your accomplishments.

Edited to add:  My camera has been missing (who knows where?!) for more than two weeks.  A big thank you to my sweet sister Caroline for all these photographs!  Without them, we'd have no record of the day...

The meal that made me SuperMom (at least according to a four-year-old)

I normally try to make (and stick to!) a menu plan for the week.  But when Jim's away, I often fall off the "plan."  Some days are a bit too crazy for the actual chopping, mixing, or whatever.  And some days the meal just seems like a lot of effort for folks who think peanut butter and honey sandwiches are the best meal of all time.

I had one of those days last week.  Jim was at school late, prepping for the crisis simulation! final for one of his classes.  (The course instructors made sort of a big deal about how intense this 48 hour exercise would be, and so I always think of it in italics: crisis simulation!  Incidentally, Jim didn't think that the exercise quite lived up to the hype.  Of course, that might be because it was a final exam and not, you know, war, which is about the only thing that Jim really sees as a crisis.)  I'd been working on projects all day (a new bookshelf in the girls' room, sorting clothes -- fun stuff like that) and dinner snuck up on me.  I hadn't defrosted any meat, so my "planned" meal couldn't happen.  I was about to whip up my favorite fall-back meal (scrambled eggs) when inspiration struck.  Blogger Simply Modern Mom had been hosting an Over-Used Recipe Swap (a genius idea if I've ever heard one), in which she invited her readers to offer up the recipes they'd, well, over-used on their own families.  I'd stopped by earlier in the week and noticed a featured recipe for Swedish pancakes.  It seemed like the perfect solution -- ingredients in the pantry, quickly and easily made, a definite treat, and not a meal we'd make when Dad's home!

And, in fact, the Swedish pancakes were a hit.  After the girls helped me mix up the batter, I cooked a few pancakes, and then set them up at the table while I kept cooking.  The girls ate them almost as fast as I could cook them!  As I scurried from the kitchen to deliver each pancake (rolled up with a bit of strawberry preserves) hot off the pan, Kathleen would cheer, "You're SuperMom!"

It made my day.  (Well, that or when she said after supper, "Thanks for that new thing you made, Mom. It was de-wicious!")  And it got me to thinking that perhaps one of my friends might be facing down an unplanned dinner hour and might want to try Swedish pancakes, too.

On the other hand, if you've got your own SuperMom meal up your sleeve, I'd love it if you'd share that.  Post title aside, I need all the help I can get!

I love these people

Not today.  A healthier day.

All three little people have colds right now (again) -- runny noses and crusty eyes and sore throats.  They are weepy and clingy and cross.  But in some ways, that makes it easier. 

Easier to prioritize, anyway. 

What has to be done?  A few loads of laundry.  A few simple meals (yogurt with honey, peanut butter and jelly, a dinner that simmered all day in the crockpot).  And really, not much else.

Letting go of all the shoulds and oughts that often fill our days, we spent today sprawled on the living room floor.  We played with puzzles.  We read stories.  We colored.  (Kathleen draws people!  Recognizable people!  With eyes and a smiley mouth and a belly button!)  We sang.  We snuggled under blankets.  We pretended to be princesses and doctors and mothers and babies and chefs and horses and kittens.

We ran no errands.  I scrubbed no bathrooms.  I mopped no floors.  I changed no sheets.  I barely managed to straighten up after each meal.  I accomplished nothing of note.  Nothing, that is, but this:  I was with them.  And I remembered that even at their weepiest, whiniest, and most miserable, spending my day with them is a blessing.  And a joy.   I love these people.

on boys -- or, more accurately, on my boy

I'm often asked whether I find it different, raising a boy.  Since I do have  two girls, I suppose it's only natural that people would ask how my boy is different.

Quite honestly, I don't know what to tell people.

I believe that little boys and little girls are different.  Decidedly different.  But I also believe that each of  my children is different.  Decidedly different.

For example, Kathleen and Madeline have distinctly different personalities, preferences, and habits.  Kathleen has slept through the night (quite soundly) since she was a baby.  Madeline still wakes frequently,  needing reassurance to fall back to sleep.  Kathleen is shy around strangers.  Madeline thrives in settings with lots of new people.  Kathleen loves cake; Madeline wants ice cream.  Kathleen devours hamburgers; Madeline wolfs down french fries.  When  presented with frozen peas and carrots, Kathleen will take the carrots and Madeline will eat the peas.  (Convenient, no?)

John David is decidedly different from his sisters.

But is the difference John David's gender?  Or is it that he's John David, and not Kathleen or Madeline?  I find myself biting my lip and grasping at words.

Mostly what I want to say is, "Yes. Raising a boy is different.  But I don't have quite enough data to make that statement with a reasonable level of certainty.  Could you check back with me when I've got a couple more boys?  And maybe another girl?"

(Not that we'll necessarily have that many children.  I'm just saying:  I'd need a much larger sample size for clarity.  Really.)

So, while I'm not ready to write a treatise on the difference between little boys and  little girls, I'm more than happy to share some of the things that make my experience raising John David, well, different.

: :  For starters, the kid is big.  BIG.  At ten months old, he's 26 pounds.  That's far, far larger than either of the girls.  Of course, he started out bigger.  But, still.  That's the size of most two-year-olds.  We were out of infant tylenol this evening and just gave him a dose of children's tylenol instead.  He qualifies as a child!

: :  So far, John David's not showing much interest in walking.  He crawls with frightening speed.  He pulls up, he cruises (while hanging onto furniture), but he doesn't really try to stand unassisted (except for when we trick him into it, and then he lowers himself into a sit) and he's not particularly enamored of walking while hanging onto people.  The girls both walked by 9.5 months, so John David's running a bit behind our curve.  We've heard that boys are generally slower to develop gross motor skills, though, so that makes sense.  And we're not worried about it.  But I won't lie, friends;  I'll be super-relieved when he walks, if only because I'm tired of listening to him wail because I won't let him crawl in the tanbark at the park or on the rain-soaked lawn or what-have-you.

: :  He's a pickier eater.  The girls generally ate what we gave them, particularly by the time we hit the table food stage, which is where John David is now.  They just liked food.  But if John David isn't interested in what we're offering, he's not going to eat it.  At all.  Even if he's hungry.  We're not making mealtime fights or anything, but there have been a couple days that I've thought, "Oh, he's just not hungry," and taken him out of the highchair at breakfast.  And then he's been miserable and cranky until lunchtime.  I'm a bit slow,  but I've recently realized that he plays by banging on the pantry door those days.  Nice.  Of course, when he cares to, he can eat.  A lot.

: :  In the injustice department:  he's got more hair and better eyelashes.  Really.  In her first birthday photo, Madeline was practically bald.  Kathleen, too.

When they're older, the girls will be jealous.  (I mean, I am.  I need gobs of Maybelline's Great Lash to look like that.  And if I rub my eyes, I look like a raccoon instead.)

: :  John David's favorite places to play are the places he's not allowed:  in the laundry room, where we keep the trash; in the pantry, chewing on the bag of onions; in the kitchen cupboards with the breakable serving ware; in the bathroom, where he favors splashing in toilet water and eating the toilet paper.  (We now have a collection of rolls of toilet paper that are gnawed on the edges.  We can't very well put those out for guests!)  I know that the girls were attracted to the things we didn't want them to have, but I honestly don't remember them being this interested in all that is declared off-limits.

: :  This one I'm almost afraid to write: for the last few months, we've been leaving John David in the nursery at church.  He prefers his Mama (he's smart!), but he seems to do okay with other people, too.  That took a lot longer with our girls.  (Though it might be that I didn't even try to leave them in the nursery until they were older.)

: :  The girls have each had stuffed animal loveys, but John David loves his soft, white blanket from Nan and Grandpa.  We don't have a back-up.  Heaven help us if we lose it.

: :  He's stubborn.  Really, really stubborn.  When there was a break in the rain a few days ago, I let the girls play in the muddy backyard.  (We all needed a break.)  But because it was muddy, I couldn't let John David loose out there.  Instead, I set up the baby gate so that I could hear the girls outside (and see them out the big living room window) and I played with John David in the living room.  It might be more accurate to say that I tried to play with John David.  He spent the better part of an hour and a half wailing or whining because I'm not nearly as interesting as his sisters.  Despite my best attempts to distract him, he just wanted out.  OUT!

: :  In what I'm sure is just the beginning of a life-long love affair with big, noisy machines, John David is fascinated by the vaccuum.  He loves it.  When he sees me pull it out of the closet, he squeals and comes racing towards it.  Vaccuuming when he's not in the pack 'n play is a challenge because he's always trying to tackle the vaccuum, and I'm afraid I'll somehow suck him up into the vaccuum bag.  This is entirely different from the girls, who still hate the vaccuum.  When they were babies, they'd wail at the mere sight of it.  I have a distinct memory of a pre-verbal Kathleen on our condo's lanai (balcony) with her father, signing "no" furiously while I vaccuumed inside.  Even now the girls tend to race away to "hide" when they see or hear (mostly hear) the vaccuum.

: :  And finally, John David is tough.  Now, all three of our children are rather rough-and-tumble.  They play hard.  Sometimes they fall.  Sometimes they run right into things.  And while sometimes there's some whining about it, frequently they just get up and keep going.  One of my particular favorites is the way you'll ask Kathleen, "Are you all right?"  and she'll respond with a pained "No," without ever stopping what she's doing.  John David has this trait in spades.  Today his foot had a run-in with a gallon of paint...more the can than the paint, to be honest.  And though he's now sporting some nasty bruises, he hardly seems bothered.    He did cry at the time, but with a little snuggling and a little mama's milk, he was recovered in minutes, much more interested in what his sisters were doing than in nursing.  Even the pediatric nurse commented about it when she gave him some vaccinations a few months back -- "I've never seen a baby so tough!"  Predictably, his father was quite pleased.

He is, after all, a boy.

still laughing

It was a long February.  (It never ceases to amaze me that the shortest month of the year can feel so. very. long.)

We didn't suffer any catastrophes at the circus, just the slight complications of everyday life.  Little people with colds.  Big people with papers and tests.  Little people waking in the night.  Big people who wanted to sleep through the night.  Big people with colds.  Little people with more colds.  And new teeth.  Temper tantrums -- some from the kids.  Lots and lots and lots of rain.

We've been weary, friends.  Nothing earth-shattering, just the compounded tiredness that (we're coming to believe) comes with parenting a rather young circus.

But March is here now, and though it's still raining, we've hope for spring and for sleep and for sunshine  -- each in its own time, of course.  And even in our exhaustion, we've found plenty of reasons to laugh.  Our little people are good for that.  Maybe not for sleeping, but definitely for laughing!

: :  We're cruising the aisles at Target, two children in the cart, one holding onto its side.  Kathleen's eyes light up and she calls out, "Look, Mama!  A surfboard!"  But we're in the laundry aisle.  And it's an ironing board.  I must be some housekeeper.

: :  The kids cheer, "Daddy!" as Jim climbs into the van at the end of a long school day.  He slides into the front seat and Madeline asks very seriously, "You good at school today, Daddy?  You listen your teacher?"

: :  I'm trying to check e-mail quickly before Kathleen naps (she and the computer share the same room at naptime, which decreases my computer time and generally increases my naptime productivity).  She's waiting impatiently (me, too, as the computer is slow, slow, slow of late) for me to finish and read her a story.  I'm nearly done when she begins burping.  And burping.  And burping.  I give her a meaningful look and say, "Kathleen?" -- expecting an apology or an "excuse me" or something.  But instead she grins and says, "It will never stop!"  She  keeps right on burping.  And all I can do is laugh.

: :  John David has discovered his voice.  It's loud.  He screeches about most everything -- when we're not feeding him quickly enough, when he'd rather be outside or not in the playpen.  And he's discovered the kitchen cabinets.  He loves to open them.  And to empty them.  We've already sacrificed a corning ware serving dish to his adventuring.  Consequently, we've had to gate off the kitchen.  (We did try to install safety latches, but the strange laminate breaks when you drill into it.)  And so now I see this while I cook dinner:

It's significantly cuter than its soundtrack.

: :  The girls are standing on their stepstools at the bathroom sink, brushing their teeth.  Their dad is overseeing them.  "Daddy," Kathleen announces, "I don't like it when you put us to bed.  It's harder.  And it's harder to breathe."  Understandably confused, Jim asks why.  She answers, "Because you're so big.  And you take up too much room."  I guess she'd like a larger bathroom.

: :  The girls made an astonishing discovery this month -- that they can get out of their own beds.  They'd never done that before.  Ever.  But then, one night they did.  And suddenly they were turning up all over.  Shortly after bed: "I have something to tell you."  By my side in the middle of the night: "It's dark."  It has taken some time and a considerable amount of  patience, but we've just about gotten it under control.  (Kathleen obeyed quite quickly.  Madeline... not so much.)  As you can imagine, this has contributed to everyone's exhaustion.  But it's also given us some truly laughable moments.

One evening, early on in the girls' nocturnal adventuring, we were sending the girls back up to bed for about the fourth time by 8:15. We listened over the baby monitor as they climbed back into their beds, and heard Madeline ask, "Why Mommy and Daddy so gwumpy tonight?"  (As though normally we'd just say, "Sure!  Who cares about bedtime!  Come watch LOST with us.")

Another evening, I went to investigate some nocturnal noise and discovered Madeline sitting on her bed with every single book in her bedroom.  Open, no less.  No wonder she couldn't sleep -- there wasn't any room!

On yet another evening, Madeline had been chattering all night, but eventually the chattering had given way to whining, and by 9:40 the whining had become full-fledged crying.  By some miracle, the crying hadn't woken Kathleen, but as I entered the room I whispered, just in case.  "Madeline," I hissed, "What is going on?"  "Mama," she wailed, "why you be so mean to me?"  I explained, quite calmly, that I wasn't being mean, that it was nighttime and that little girls needed to sleep and that even if they didn't sleep, they needed to stay in their beds quietly, so that other people could sleep.  Unimpressed by my monologue, she cried, "But I just want you 'nuggle with me."  Undone by her two year-old logic, I climbed into her bed to snuggle.  I let her drape her little arm around my neck and press her knees into my tummy and breathe into my face for a bit.  Then I tucked her in with her loveys (one under each arm) and said goodnight.  She was snoring before I shut the door.

Because of the LORD's great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. 

They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.  -- Lamentations 3:22-23

Pretzels!

The girls' uncle came for a visit last week, bringing with him his sweet little girl and this sweet recipe for soft pretzels!  In fact, he did more than bring a recipe... he brought a nice, big batch of ready-made dough!

Once the girls had spent some good time playing with their cousin, we set to work on the pretzels.  Having played a lot with playdough lately, Kathleen was perfectly prepared for her tasks.

She carefully rolled the dough and (with her uncle's help) twisted it into a pretzel shape.  Once he'd dunked each pretzel into the baking soda bath, Kathleen painted it with an egg wash and sprinkled it with salt.

Madeline missed the first batch of pretzel making (she was at gymnastics!), but her uncle kindly saved some dough for her.  (You can see the delicious, finished pretzels in the background.)  She was thrilled.

Of course, we were all pretty thrilled when we got to eat fresh, hot, soft pretzels for lunch!  (We added some fresh fruit and cheese and veggies to the plate so that I didn't feel utterly irresponsible.  But we all knew: we were having a pretzel for lunch!)  

We had such a fun morning.  And we can't wait for another excuse to make  -- and, more importantly, eat -- soft pretzels.  Perhaps this fall we'll finally get around to throwing that Oktoberfest party we've always talked about...  

sisters

There are squabbles.  Misunderstandings.  Unkindnesses.  Tears.

But they are sisters.  Best friends.  Co-conspirators.  Kindred spirits.  They laugh together and pretend together and sing together.  All day long.  (And into the night, to be honest.)

They are writing their childhood memories together.  Neither can remember a time without the other.  We pray that it will always be so.

Could there be anything sweeter?

bubbly joy

Determined to make the most of the sparkling, sunny days this week, we met Daddy at school one evening.  And we brought bubbles.

Most graduate students don't show up at "the oval" at quarter to five on a weekday, excited children in tow, dripping bubbles behind them.  But then, Daddy's not most graduate students.  (And we're sure glad about that!)  We like to think we offered the serious academics a bit of bubbly joy.

 

Madeline loved the big bubble wand, but she was a little perplexed by the whole concept of blowing bubbles.

 

Mama helped out with a bit of a tutorial, and Madeline caught on in no time!

Kathleen, too, loved "dancing" with the bubble wand.

 

  

 We all got a big kick out of watching John David's reaction to the bubbles!

  

He was more than happy to sit on his little blanket and watch the rest of us blow bubbles and run around like happy fools.  (We were surprised that he didn't crawl off the blanket... because he's constant motion, friends.  But we're guessing that he wasn't so sure about all that green grass!)

 

I don't know about the "serious academics," but we were all smiling!

back in the backyard

With a break in the seemingly never-ending rain (we know, it was merely a few weeks of rain. . . real weather will be a cruel, cruel shock) we return to our backyard.

Suddenly, everything outside is new again! The girls rediscover every ball we own, testing the way they bounce. . . or not. They scoot around on the long-outgrown Winnie-the-Pooh ride-on toy. And they run and jump and (I'll admit it) yell a bit, just because they can. It's a relief for all of us, some of us having said, "Use your indoor voice, please," more times than we care to count.

We drag the playhouse onto the lawn, where little girls can pop in and out all day long. Sometimes they even use the door.

In just one afternoon, that playhouse is a house, a store, and a castle. Especially a castle. Here, the princess pauses on the way to her wedding. (Those bristle blocks? Her bridal bouquet.)

The girls aren't the only ones who want to play outside. John David watches his sisters longingly. And when he thinks his mama is distracted -- by laundry or supper or what-have-you -- he makes his move, crawling to the threshold of the door.

He wants so badly to be out there! But when we call his name, he turns back, his expression one of cheerful pleading. We can already fill in the dialogue, imagining him saying, "Hey! I should be out there, too, Mama!"

We relocate him to the living room, plying him with all sorts of fascinating (indoor) toys. And yet, the next thing we know, we're dragging him off the sandy pavement, peeling strawberry leaves from his chubby hands, brushing dirt from his knees and toes. Before we know it, he'll be bigger, toddling all over the backyard, too. Summer will be fun.

Valentine's Day

Our hearts have been happy today -- we've spent the day with the ones we love, eaten some foods we love, and worshiped the One who is love. I smile just thinking about it.

The girls' (well, John David's, too) day began with heart-shaped, whole wheat pancakes.

Kathleen and Madeline raced delightedly around church this morning, delivering bags of these homemade treats for their friends.

More hearts at lunch! (A cookie cutter made their favorite grilled cheese even better.)

Hearts and flowers. Gifts of love from my sweethearts, big and small.

And even more hearts for supper! (Thank you, costco, for making an at-home Valentine's dinner a snap. Heart shaped ravioli!)

Happy Valentine's Day, friends! We hope your day was filled with love, too.

The promise is for you and your children

The promise is for you and your children and for all who are far off -- for all whom the Lord our God will call. -- Acts 2:39

Two Sundays ago, we baptized John David. In doing so, we publicly declared our intention to raise him within the body of Christ and, as Kathleen explained just about two years ago, "welcome him into God's family."

We'd been meaning to baptize our not-so-little boy for quite some time, but our plans were thwarted again and again. To our delight, when we finally arranged the baptism, we shared the event with two other families from our community group. (There was a bit of a baby boom for our community group in 2009! Five families, four babies!) Kathleen and her best friend were thrilled to "bath-tize their babies" at the same time! It was a privilege and a joy to be able to share this special event with our friends and their little ones.

Speaking of little ones, between the families, we have a lot of children! There are seven children in this photograph... and that's not all of us!

When Luke (our congregation's musical minister and an ordained minister and, of course, our friend) began the baptism, he summed up our hopes and expectations for our son and for his little friends perfectly:

· That as these parents raise their children, assisted by the Body of Christ, that these kids will become men and women after God’s own heart.
· That these children would learn that salvation is found through Christ alone, and that they will be made alive in him.
· And that through faith, they will see that the promises of God—the ones that they are stepping into this morning—have been at work in their lives as they come to faith, and that the blessings of God would pour forth as blessing in the world.

During the baptism, parents affirm certain questions and promises on behalf of their children. This is normally a reasonably serious undertaking. However, as Luke asked,

Do you acknowledge you child's need of the cleansing blood of Jesus Christ, and the renewing grace of the Holy Spirit?

Madeline started scrambling over Jim's shoulder. It didn't go unnoticed, because when we answered (heartily), "we do!" the congregation burst out laughing.

Fortunately, the rest of the baptism went more smoothly. John David didn't cry at all when Luke sprinkled him with water and prayed.

I now: Baptize you in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. May the blessings of God descend upon you, and remain with you now and forever, that you would be blessed as God’s beloved, and that you would become a man after God’s own heart.

John David, at nine months old and 26 pounds, didn't fit in the family christening gown. (Not that Jim was at all interested in having his first born son in a dress...) But I think it's pretty darling that he serendipitously matched Luke in a navy blue sweater vest!

We were glad to have John David's uncle (and godfather) Kevin, aunt Marie and cousin Nora with us for the service. Afterwards we joined our friends for an afternoon of food and fellowship. We rejoiced at the blessings of our sweet babes and of the friendships we share.

Madeline Shows Off

The week of Kathleen's "big show" was also a special week for Madeline. Though Madeline's little gymnastics class didn't prepare a "show", the class was open to guests. Mama and Daddy and Kathleen and John David all got to come! (Normally Mama and Daddy take turns going to class with Madeline. This was a big change!)

Madeline was thrilled. She loves her class to begin with -- have I told you that every single time she prays, she says, "Thank you God my dance class"? -- and she was delighted to share it with her brother and sister.

For logistical reasons, Mama and Kathleen and John David sort of hung back on the sideline while Madeline and Daddy ran and jumped and played -- at least at the beginning.

Some highlights... You can see that Madeline literally throws herself into it!

Eventually even Kathleen got in on some fun!

Indy got to explore, too, but all he really did was crawl around and drool. Still, he gave the experience high marks.

At the end of class, Madeline was awarded a ribbon. (She tried to put it around her neck, having seen Kathleen get a medal around her neck a few days earlier. ) She was rather proud.

Our spunky little gymnast put on quite a show!