David's latest:
Whenever I say an interesting or new or big word, David has gotten into the habit of saying to me, "Mom, why do you say _______"
This morning I told the kids that I was annoyed with their bickering. David responds, "Mom, why do you say annoying?"
It makes me laugh.
Monday, November 24, 2008
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
funny
Yesterday I found Jacob sitting by the bookshelf, at least 20 books on the ground beside him. He was eating a book cover. There was only half of the back cover still in tact.
The book?
Rich Christians in an Age of Hunger
Aptly chosen little one. Aptly chosen.
The book?
Rich Christians in an Age of Hunger
Aptly chosen little one. Aptly chosen.
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Just can't keep up with him...
Jon and I just can't keep up with Jacob. He seems to be always in something he's not supposed to...
eating the soil in our house plants,
putting his hands in the toilet,
climbing up the stairs,
opening up our garbage drawer and putting garbage out,
destroying Claire and David's toys,
and,
the very latest,
gnawing on the small tree that we have in our living room.
I kid you not.
It looks like there is a family of beavers in our house.
eating the soil in our house plants,
putting his hands in the toilet,
climbing up the stairs,
opening up our garbage drawer and putting garbage out,
destroying Claire and David's toys,
and,
the very latest,
gnawing on the small tree that we have in our living room.
I kid you not.
It looks like there is a family of beavers in our house.
3 for 3
Ear infections aren't contagious.
Despite this, all three kids have ear infections (double ear infections to be precise).
Three different doctors visits this past week.
Three bottles of amoxicilian in our fridge door (all to be taken at different times and in different quantities).
Three different sounding coughs in the middle of the night (tag teaming each other).
Jon and I are tired but so thankful that having sick kids isn't the norm for us.
Despite this, all three kids have ear infections (double ear infections to be precise).
Three different doctors visits this past week.
Three bottles of amoxicilian in our fridge door (all to be taken at different times and in different quantities).
Three different sounding coughs in the middle of the night (tag teaming each other).
Jon and I are tired but so thankful that having sick kids isn't the norm for us.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
I've been chewing on this (sent to me from my mom)
My mom sends me things to read. The topics vary. Sometimes she finds things she knows I've been thinking about. Sometimes it's things she thinks I should be thinking about. Whatever it is, I always read them and I'm always prompted to think about something in them.
Over the years, my collection of photocopied articles and newspaper clippings has grown. So has my deep appreciation for this gift of learning, thinking and fostering dialogue among loved ones that my mom has modeled so well for me.
A recent article she sent me was entitled: The building blocks of being a dad (Larry Matthews, Globe and Mail, June 15, 2008). Though it's about being a dad, I think what Matthews writes about applies to both fathers and mothers.
He writes,
Fatherhood came to me at age 30, thrusting me into a role that was both mysterious and mundane. The mundane came in a barrage of infant needs. Thankfully my wife had prepared, studying how-to books well in advance of our son's birth, and bringing forward the collected wisdom of a durable Atlantic community. I served as the assistant, and was on a steep learning curve. One lesson I learned about the care of another human being that the mundane – the food and clothes and diapers and equipment – is inescapable. I have been slower to grasp the mystery...
...And that is the mystery – that helping raise these tiny creatures for whom I was responsible would create a profound desire for them own heart, and that a parent’s need for a child continues to grow. How utterly I have come to need my children, how deeply they move me, and how powerful they have become in my life.
...I caught a glimpse of a procession of fathers marching across the Canadian Tire parking lot. Each man is drawn by the child in front, the past pursuing the present and, through them, our hopes for the future. In my vision my father, who is 81, and will cross town to see his son, followed me and behind him, my grandfather, and behind him, my great-grandfather, all drawn forward by their daughters and sons.
In front of me strode my son, oblivious to my vision, and not thinking at all of the sons and daughters I hope he has some day, so they may teach him what it is to play freely, to need others deeply and to know pure joy.
The mundane and the mystery. I like that.
Over the years, my collection of photocopied articles and newspaper clippings has grown. So has my deep appreciation for this gift of learning, thinking and fostering dialogue among loved ones that my mom has modeled so well for me.
A recent article she sent me was entitled: The building blocks of being a dad (Larry Matthews, Globe and Mail, June 15, 2008). Though it's about being a dad, I think what Matthews writes about applies to both fathers and mothers.
He writes,
Fatherhood came to me at age 30, thrusting me into a role that was both mysterious and mundane. The mundane came in a barrage of infant needs. Thankfully my wife had prepared, studying how-to books well in advance of our son's birth, and bringing forward the collected wisdom of a durable Atlantic community. I served as the assistant, and was on a steep learning curve. One lesson I learned about the care of another human being that the mundane – the food and clothes and diapers and equipment – is inescapable. I have been slower to grasp the mystery...
...And that is the mystery – that helping raise these tiny creatures for whom I was responsible would create a profound desire for them own heart, and that a parent’s need for a child continues to grow. How utterly I have come to need my children, how deeply they move me, and how powerful they have become in my life.
...I caught a glimpse of a procession of fathers marching across the Canadian Tire parking lot. Each man is drawn by the child in front, the past pursuing the present and, through them, our hopes for the future. In my vision my father, who is 81, and will cross town to see his son, followed me and behind him, my grandfather, and behind him, my great-grandfather, all drawn forward by their daughters and sons.
In front of me strode my son, oblivious to my vision, and not thinking at all of the sons and daughters I hope he has some day, so they may teach him what it is to play freely, to need others deeply and to know pure joy.
The mundane and the mystery. I like that.
Some thoughts from "Taking Faith Home"
Every week at our church, there's a "Taking Faith Home" slip of paper to take home with us.
This week, there's a quote I really liked:
Christian parenting is not about having it all together or following a predetermined pattern. It involves living daily in dependence on God's grace and love in Christ. And as we do, we teach our children the most important lesson of all: that God is for and with them in Jesus, no matter what.
This week, there's a quote I really liked:
Christian parenting is not about having it all together or following a predetermined pattern. It involves living daily in dependence on God's grace and love in Christ. And as we do, we teach our children the most important lesson of all: that God is for and with them in Jesus, no matter what.
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