Greg's World

He just has this sort of ... unique... way of looking at life. God knew we as parents need a sense of humor, and to make it easier to laugh, He gave us Greg. Disclaimer: This post will probably bore anyone who is not an aunt or an uncle.

• We were watching Doddy tear down an old, beaten down house with a track hoe. Gregory watched, wide eyed, as the walls and closets were exposed like some giant doll house. He mourned, "They could have saved the wallpaper. It was still nice."

• After a long period of cogitation, he says brightly, "I know why they call them ostriches. Because they have strriiitched out necks."

• One lovely day this week the boys got to ride their bikes along beside me on a walk. After huffing and complaining his way up a slight grade on his teeny bike with training wheels, Gregory was delighted to discover the joy of coasting. He learned how to skid his tires when he braked and with a grin from ear to ear, remarked, "Bikes are kind of like wild horses. They go charging down hills."

• Gabe went on an EMS call tonight for an elderly lady who fell and cut her head. "Poor lady, how do the doctors sew her head on again?"

I am convinced that our children all have different callings in life. Alex is our right hand helper and challenges us and keeps us humble with his questing mind and complex ideas.We get exasperated with Gregory's inability to follow through on the simplest task without getting distracted, but he makes us all laugh. And Olivia's role in the family at this time seems to consist of handing out hugs and kisses and teaching the boys to share graciously.

I am reminded of a statement Val Yoder made when he preached at our church a few weeks ago. "God sees a young couple in love, newly married, and thinks, 'They are going to need some help here. I think I will send them a child to sanctify them and round them out a bit.' And then after a few years, He decides to send them a totally different child and they get some more of their rough edges chipped off, etc. etc." I had never thought about it in quite that way, but I am grateful for each unique little person He has given us, and the lessons He teaches us through our children.

Homespun Fun

There's a shelter for the homeless in our living room today.
It is furnished with stacks of books, and stuffed toys.
They must be literate animal lovers, these squatters.

Meanwhile, in the backyard, they have constructed a curious craft.
This is not a trike, but a boat motor,with seat for the rower behind,
All floating on a section of old wooden railing.

There are days when I ask myself seriously whether it is worth letting them make these colossal messes.We have a grand reckoning every evening before Gabe gets home, cleaning up the rubble in the house so he can get inside the door. Almost daily, I remind the boys that they will need to clean up whatever project they embark upon. It never seems to deter them, so I figure they are getting in their practice as inventors of strange and wonderful things. And I get used to finding my laundry baskets conscripted into cupola duty.

Diligence in Love

I read a book with that title once, and while I thought the book was a little sappy, the message in it was right on target. It simply stressed the need for married couples to be diligent in their loving of one another.

We got married with a firm commitment for a lifetime, and some vague understanding that it might involve some difficulties in the practical aspects of life. Like all newlyweds, we looked around at couples around us who seemed to have fallen out of love, and fervently hoped we would never take each other for granted. After all, love is so effortless.

Of course, we soon figured out that for our marriage to continue to flourish, we would have to learn to love each other well in the day to day practicalities of life. It is not so effortless to be the one who jumps out of bed on Saturday morning to get the phone. Or to forfeit your right to the magazine you were reading when the other one picks it up. Someone has to drink the last of the milk in the jug, and the other might not have any cereal as a result. Silly, little, nitty- gritty things, all, but the stuff that life is made of.

Being of a rather practical nature, here are some things that Gabriel did recently that assure me he loves me just as much as when he brings me a bouquet of roses.

• He brought me half of his doughnut from the brother's meeting coffee break.
• He fixes the bed on Sunday mornings and dresses the children while I put our lunch into the oven.
• He says, "Just what I was hungry for," when there is soup for supper.
• He calls me "Hon", not "Mama".
• He quietly goes and irons the shirt that isn't in the closet when he needs it.
• He got a beautiful pink planner for me to help me in my goal to be more organized this year.
• He understands my need for dark chocolate.
• He went shopping on Black Friday and bought a lovely sheet set.
• He took care of the children so I could go to Goodwill by myself.
• He prays with me about the everyday things that challenge me.
• He never says, "I just can't understand women." Even when he can't.
  

Little ordinary things, all, but the stuff that life is made of. These are the little courtesies that make it such a joy to live together. Valentine's Day is a wonderful celebration, and I can't wait for our date tonight. Not just because of the candlelight and frilly hearts, but because of the foundation my sweetheart has laid of loving me diligently.

Falling Out of Bed and Other Stuff

A loud thump in the middle of the night, followed by wails.
A quick dash as a father rushes to comfort his bewildered offspring.
I think about this happening to grown ups too.

Blissful dreamy sleep.
Roll over and thud! the bed has dropped you onto the cold, hard floor of reality.
Shattered dreams.
Disillusioned wails.
Calling for a Father's comfort.
Finding that just like your earthly Father, he pities you and knows what you need.
Finding that the warmth of His loving arms is worth the plunge into reality.

That is my little poetic effort for the day. It has happened to me many times, so unless I am really weird, maybe you can relate...?



Here is my question for the day.
How do you explain to a four year old that it was okay for John the Baptist to call people "a brood of snakes", but it is not appropriate for little boys...?



And finally, some humorous insight from Alex.
"I guess I shouldn't slurp this orange. The baby might hear me and think we are rude. Then maybe it won't want to be born."

Snips and Snails

Sunday afternoon.

Mama sends little boys to their bunks for quiet time.

Five minutes later she checks on them.

Big Boy sticks his head over the edge of the top bunk.

"Mama, remember that you said I just have to rest, not sleep?"

"Yes... so what did you take along to bed with you?"

"Well, just a rubber band gun to shoot my Teddy. It's quiet...

"...and a couple of Legos... and a magnifying glass to look at stuff really close."

Really? That's all? No frogs or puppy dog tails?