Nathan is my sweet, people-pleasing, soft-hearted child. 

Brian and I have been feeling called to support a ministry to orphans, so I was on the Compassion International website to see what they offered.  When Nathan saw me looking, we had a conversation about Compassion and the various ministries they have (unfortunately, none specifically to orphans, though lots to prevent them!) and Nathan was overwhelmed by the need. 

He immediately pulled out his guitar and enlisted his sister to form a street band to play for money on the corner.  Can you tell this child has grown up in an urban environment?  Well, besides that I wasn't super cool with the idea of my four and six year olds begging for money on the corner, I wanted to make sure that Nathan understood the concept of giving sacrificially.  To be honest, we haven't covered the idea of tithing at all with him. 

So anyway, I talked with him about giving some of his own money.  He had about $20 saved up from birthday money, lost teeth and coins stolen from his parents.  He was a little worried about that.  I told him to pray about how much he should give, and that God loves a cheerful giver, so not to give more than he could feel good about.  Then I sent him upstairs to figure it out.  I really had no idea what to expect.

He came down shortly (much sooner than I expected, actually), with a big smile.  He'd settled on $2.07.  I was so proud of him!  He assured me that he could give that much cheerfully.  Then we talked about asking his grandparents to match him.  He called each of them, and they gave, and Brian and I also matched him.  He raised a total of $11.21.  Big money when you're six! 

So we sent it off with a note explaining what he'd done.  And now I love Compassion even more.  This arrived about a week later.

A letter to Nathan, thanking him, a card signed by Compassion staffers and his first "grown up Bible".

How awesome is that?

Beautiful Disaster, or something like that.

Isaac.  Isaac, Isaac, Isaac. 

Yesterday, he dumped half a gallon of hand soap on the hall rug and in the laundry closet.

Today, there was this

and THEN he decided he's FAR too mature, at the ripe old age of 22 months, to use the hand rail when he comes down the stairs.   Have I mentioned that the stairs are really steep?  Because HE CAN.  That's why.  It's a heart-attack-a-minute around here.

Just now, I heard him dump the basket of cookie cutters on the kitchen floor.  ALWAYS BUSY.

Cute is not really cutting it right now.

Okay, while I've been typing, Isaac unrolled a roll of toilet paper and took the cap off the toothpaste.  I found him when I ran upstairs because one of his new favorite pastimes is reprogramming Brian's alarm clock.  So that it goes off during naptime.  And not when Brian needs to wake up.  Lord, help me.

Busy, Busy, Busy

I feel like I'm going a million miles an hour lately, but I leave my house like twice a week.  I've been working like crazy on Brenna's quilt.  I find that I get super motivated, then I burn out and don't touch it for a while.

I have noticed that I seem to be an oddity in that I work on only one sewing project at a time.  So for the last two years that I've been making these quilts, I haven't touched anything else.

Saturday, Brian asked me to make the kids trick-or-treat bags.  I told him, "I can't.  I'm working on Brenna's quilt."  He asked me to anyway.  Can I just say, it was SO HARD to wrap my mind around starting something different?  Especially since I was MOTIVATED!  Like, how often does that happen?  And besides, as I've mentioned before, I like to make everything harder than it needs to be.  A lot harder.  Halloween pillowcases.  That's what I'm making.  Halloween pillowcases.

I started looking  at super cute lined tote patterns online.  I showed one to Brian, and he said, "NO." In his firm voice.  Good thing he knows me so well.  Halloween pillowcases.

 After another interrupted plantation tour (next time we'll go in shifts.  Isaac will NOT be in attendance.), we headed to the fabric store to let the kids pick out some Halloween fabric. 

Brenna chose the "pupple", Nathan, the Jack-o-Lanterns, and I chose the glittery orange and black for Isaac because I couldn't get either of the other two to pick it.


I spent probably 30 minutes on each, and only made them a little bit harder.  I take that back, Isaac's was quite a bit harder, but that was because the fabric was directional.  In the wrong direction.  So I had to piece it a bit.  And iron.  Oh, and I made it almost to the end without having to rip a stitch!  It was amazing!  Then I accidentally put Isaac's handle an inch or so off to the side.  Oops.  I hadn't cut it yet, but I was SO CLOSE to completing a project without having to rip a seam!  Bummer.

So there ya go.  We're ready to go beg strangers to give us something I don't want my kids to have.  It's gonna be great :)

Clumsy

My kids are all having growth spurts.  Isaac is noticeably bigger, but that's not how I know.

They cannot walk without hurting themselves.

These kids are CLUMSY.

I've noticed that when they're growing, it's like they forget how to use their extremities.  Fingers do what?  Seriously, somebody must have moved that wall!  Yes, the table is still lower than your head.  If you try to stand up under it, you're going to get hurt.  EVERY TIME.

In the same vein, I was wondering last night, when do we stop rolling around on the floor and sobbing when we get hurt?

I hurt myself pretty often, I think.  I don't trip and fall, I've never broken anything, but I'm a pro at catching my toes on things.  I've been doubled over using breathing exercises more times than I care to count.  Sometimes it hurts so badly I get nauseous.  But I generally remain upright.  I wonder what my family would think if I laid on the floor and wailed when someone stepped on my foot?

Maybe I'll try that next time;  see what happens.

Milestones, The Kind We Want

My boy is growing up.  No training wheels!  I'm doing a happy dance.

This boy's love language is totally affirmation.  Without a doubt.

And then...

There's this:

I'm so FLIPPIN' PROUD!!!

I wouldn't have missed it.

Oops, I guess I didn't come back yesterday!  Time flies when you're procrastinating, eh?

This weekend I got to fly up to Indianapolis for the wedding of one of my oldest friends.  Silja and I have known each other since first (or second, the reports differ!) grade.  The wedding was absolutely beautiful; Matt's (Silja's husband) parents have a lovely large backyard with a pond surrounded by reeds, which are surrounded by woods.  A dock in the pond made one of the most beautiful wedding backdrops I've ever seen!

And can I just say, I LOVED the bouquets!  Silja said that when she talked to the florist she asked for white hydrangeas and she liked the greet button mums.  This is what he came up with:

Other thrills:

BIG HAIR!  That was exciting.  The hair dresser teased my entire head of hair before putting it in an asymmetrical french twist.  Then she hairsprayed it within an inch of it's life.  When I pulled out the many bobby pins, my hair stood straight back from my  head.  It was awesome!

I got lost everywhere I went. I am totally impaired when it comes to directions.  The wedding?  It was in the middle of Timbuktu, a 15 minute drive from the nearest town.  At one point Silja called to find out where I was, and I told her, "I feel like I've gone too far... oh.  I'm in Logansport."  Well, Logansport is about 18 miles in the opposite direction I should have been driving (and remember, my destination was another 15 minutes past where I started).  A few speed limits may or may not have been broken on this trip.  I'm not telling.

I realized.... I like my family.  I was really looking forward to getting away, to relaxing and being by myself... but I missed them.  Sleeping in a king size bed without my husband really was not that great.  And to top it off, since I'm accustomed to getting a herd of cats out the door every time I go anywhere, without them I was ALWAYS LATE!  Seriously!  I thought I had so much time, since it was just me, so I would let myself get sidetracked...

It was a fun weekend.  I got to meet some wonderful new people, and catch up with Silja's family, whom I've known since childhood, but haven't seen in ten or so years.

And as far as resting, even though I was exhausted from a crazy three days, I was SO ready to be with my family. 

Congratulations, Silja and Matt!

Sorry I've been absent for a bit.  This last week has been fuller than most since the school year started.

The library we usually frequent is closed for long-overdue repairs, so I finally decided it was time to find another one.  I found one in mid-city on the library website, then I looked it up on Google, and we were off.  There was no library at the given location.  This has happened SO MANY TIMES since we moved here.  It doesn't matter that Google says it's there, CALL FIRST.  Another reason for a smart phone.  Those things are looking more and more like they're worth spending too much money on!  We did finally find one, and got some great books, so that was good.  It just took up the whole afternoon.

Speaking of books, our FIAR book this week is Who Owns the Sun? by Stacy Chbosky.

This book is amazing, beautiful, and very hard for me.  And not at all hard for my children, which is fine, but makes me wonder if, well, I'm doing something wrong.  Like if I were teaching it correctly, they would understand.  But really, they just can't comprehend it yet.

The story is about a boy who adores his strong, wise father and asks him, "who owns the [sun/stars/wind, etc.]?" and his father responds with a description of the beauty of each of these things, and the answer, "no one can own the sun." 

Then one day, the boy overhears the man his parents work for talking about his father.  He is full of pride at the complements to his dad's strength and work ethic until the man says, "I wish I owned ten more just like him."

The conversation the boy has with his father afterwards is heartbreaking.

Stacy Chbosky was 14 years old when she wrote it for a school competition. 

For obvious reasons, race and prejudice have been on my mind consistently since we moved here.  As I talk with my kids about differences, it would seem that they are truly unaware of skin color and the value people place on it.  I am so grateful.  So grateful.


Well, I'm kind of worn out just thinking about that, so I guess I'll be back tomorrow with the rest of what we've been up to around here.