"After all, I believe the nicest and sweetest days
are not those on which anything very splendid or wonderful or exciting happens,
but just those that bring simple little pleasures, following one another
softly, like pearls slipping off a string." - L.M. Montgomery
Balm for Another Pregnancy
Jims makes himself useful when I'm unwell, and serves
as chief tucker-inner when I'm laid up on the couch. Oh, how he stretches and pulls,
this way and that, to make sure that afghan covers every inch from my neck to
my toes, with a perfect little hole for the hand that holds my book, and a
corresponding one for the hand that holds my munchies! And only when he's fully
satisfied that I'm all snug, and has planted a kiss on my cheek or forehead as
the crowning touch, does he return to his play wearing his best Jim-grin!
From an Email to the Family in June of 2010
I'm home with the boyvies this aft, due to having the
flu in our home this past week. For the moment they are playing quietly, though
that never lasts long with Wills the warrior around. I was a little envious
reading Holl's email about Jordan being so sweet. What a blessing, Holls! Unfortunately all our kids are of the regular
totally depraved variety. Taking after us, I suppose. (Or me, rather, since Liz
S. can't believe they they get it from M, since he "hasn't a bad bone in
his body" to her knowledge.) Jims
is not always very obedient, but of the three boys he probably comes off as the
sweetest, thanks to his "pleasant, cheery face... which is just like
Maurice's" (Jo-Jo says). I suppose I should be drawing some lessons in
humility from the fact that all our children's good traits apparently come from M,
but I can't think very deeply about all that right now because my thinking
skills are pretty much maxed out between the typing of this brief paragraph and
the refereeing of the half dozen or so fights that have broken out since that
inserting that fatal 2nd sentence.
Well, I thought a brief diversion might serve as a
fresh start and so sent them off to get their PJ's on. After running upstairs,
and up and down the hall like a bunch of madmen, they are all back again now -
Jo and Jims dressed for bed, and Wills with his shorts off his bottom and on
his head.
Joseph just told me that his stomach is so sore, he didn't think he
could eat any dinner, and he hoped he wouldn't throw up… and now he's
challenging Jim to a race of laps around the kitchen, dining and living room.
Of course, what with Jimmy "counting" laps at random spots along the
way, he's bound to win every time. Especially as Jo is extra winded due to
constantly shouting at Jim that he's counting wrong. As long as no one crashes, this is a pretty good
way to blow off steam before dinner, as even Wills can get in on the play.
Jims and M are the last holdouts against the flu. Jim
has been praying every day since around Christmas, "stanks you fer I won't
get sick", and so far this prayer of faith seems to have had positive
results. He also prays daily for Meg ("stanks you fer Megan"), for
our sponsor student, Francisco ("stanks you fer Frisko and others in Haiti”),
Marguerite ("stanks you fer Auntie Marguerite will get better"), for
M ("stanks you fer Daddy can go to work"), and for the food; both
that which is really yummy and that which is just plain yummy ("stanks you
fer this really yummy food, and thanks you for this yummy food").
In Moments of Quiet I’m Strangely Drawn to Him
"Woozy", as our poor dear William is called around
here, may cause tears some days, but he also can be sweet in quiet moments. One
is tempted to add the old quote: "Only there haven't been any quiet
moments"... but there are some, now and then. Mostly at around 6:00 in the
morning, when we hear the quiet shuffle of his little legs running down the
dark hall, and feel him crawling up and over us and snuggling down under the
covers between us. Then he lays quite nice and quiet for a while, often
slipping one of his little hands in mine. Part of me thinks this tradition has
to stop before baby comes, but the other part of me thinks I might as well
enjoy this one brief cosy moment of the day with the boy who's prone to
bouncing off the walls the rest of the day.
A Guy with Ambition
Jo was listing off what he wanted to be when he grew
up.
“I want to be a knight, and a cook, and a king, and
a... a... soldier! And a... a... prince! And a...."
"Pauper?" Jim supplied helpfully.
Let Brotherly Love Continue
Jim came home from co-op with a valentine's card for Jo
which he had written all by himself. It read:
"Die Joe"
He claims, of course, that it says, "Dear
Joe"…
I’m Rich!
Sad to say, I fear Jim's goal in life has degenerated
to the pursuit of riches. (Not that his original idea of becoming a frog was
such a worthy ambition either...) After musing one day on all that riches could
buy, he said with resolution, "When I grow up, I'm going to have 99
cents."
"No!" He added suddenly as an even better
thought occurred to him. "I'm going to have 100 cents!"
Another day he darted upstairs, and shortly after, I
heard this muffled shout from his room:
"I'm rich!"
"I'm rich!"
Apparently he was counting his money.
He reappeared downstairs to announce proudly, "I
have ten cents and eleven cents!"
The Robber of Sherlock and the Starry-eyed Hero
Joseph is writing a book called, "The Robber of
Sherlock”. Once a week he writes a page to add to the story, and whenever the
time comes for me to read the next installment, he can't stay in the room, but
has to run giddily to the living room and back. He gets so into his plot that
now and then in his writing he accidentally switches from the 3rd person to the
1st person. At one point his hero was sent by his father to buy food, but he
was so totally absorbed in the mystery that he wound up leaving one town and
wandering into another before remembering his errand. I would have suggested
that that part of the tale was too far-fetched, but for my acquaintance with
just such a boy...
November 19, 2010
It's a Girl!
The kids took pity on me and decided to deliver the
baby themselves.
Wills got the pink plastic doctor kit, pumped a dozen
needles into my tummy, measured the blood pressure in my wrist, had me say
"hi" into his stethoscope, and carefully removed my slippers. Jo,
meanwhile, gathered the appropriate tools for a C-section from his supply of
plastic kitchenware. First he administered a cupful of sleeping medicine, and
then, when I was safely snoring, Wills took over the spatula and "scooped"
out the baby (licking off the spatula between scoops).
Finally it was all over.... and there was our new baby
girl! Fully clothed, no less!
She had barely been placed in my arms, when the surgeon
snatched her away and took off at a run, carrying her by her ankles in the most
unseemly fashion. The two assistants ran after him screaming, but the surgeon
could not be prevailed upon to give her up.
