A Life of Gratitude

Mother's Day 2009

I don't think it's possible to squeeze more ceremony into one day than we did this past Sunday.  First, it was Mother's Day, which has taken on additional meaning in our house since last Mother's Day.  With Ian's arrival and Elliott's constant development, the mama job description in our house has been completely re-written to reflect the increased responsibilities.  Unfortunately, due to the tough economic times, a salary increase was not written into the description.

Sunday was also our 10 year wedding anniversary.  It doesn't seem possible.  Ten years ago we were living on a quiet mountain in central Tennessee.  Today, it seems a hundred years have passed since we last experienced quiet.  Back then, Elliott and Ian were the furthest things from our minds.  And today, they rarely travel far from our sight, let alone our thoughts.  But as quiet and serene and unchaotic as that mountain top was, I don't miss it.  Possibly because we're too busy to think back on our days in Tennessee and North Carolina, but more likely because we both understand there were many experiences over those years, but none that brought the kind of joy we are blessed to experience each day with Elliott and Ian.

On top of the already packed day Sunday, we also participated in a parent/child dedication at church.  It is a ceremony where parents essentially commit to raising their children in a way that is pleasing to God.  It is also an opportunity for us to publicly seek the support and prayers of the church and our friends and family to help us in that effort.  Elliott and Ian responded to the ceremony as I might have expected.  Ian slept through it.  It was nap time and nothing disturbs his nap time.  Elliott did what you are supposed to do when you are on stage, perform.  He continued to clap even though the music had long stopped, and he waved at his bumpa (I'm still not sure how he found him in the rather large audience).  Mr. laid back and showtime lived up to their reputations.

I must say my burden in making such a commitment to God is greatly relieved by having a wonderful wife who happens to be an awesome mother.  Her gratefulness for the blessing of our two boys is evident in every interaction she has with each of them.  We can both get frustrated by the pace of our lives, but Katie is always willing to stop and provide the unconditional love and understanding that Ian and Elliott need.  I am sure in time they both will understand their mama has a strength that can only come from God.

Dedicating ourselves to being parents pleasing to God on Mother's Day seemed quite appropriate.  Not only do the boys have a mother that makes that a natural motive, but two grandmothers as well.  I am no more thankful for anything in my life than a mother and father who raised me in a way that I am sure is pleasing to God.  I will always use them as reminders that raising a child in a pleasing way doesn't always guarantee pleasing results.  But I figure the best testimony of their efforts is the many principles and philosophies that will be passed on to Ian and Elliott.  I am certain my mother handled me with the same look that Katie has when she holds our boys.  That in itself is rewarding.

We are blessed to have Katie's mom look after Ian (with some playful assistance from bumpa), as she did Elliott.  The way she looks after both of them is evidence that she passed on a motherhood gene to Katie.  She has that same loving touch and nurturing approach to providing for them.  

On a day when we celebrated 10 years of marriage and dedicated that marriage to raising Godly children, it seems all together appropriate to appreciate the role our mothers have in that effort, an effort they started many years ago.     

Easter 2009

The weekend weather pattern in our neck of the woods altered it's rhythm long enough to provide us a sunny Easter Sunday.  We've had inclement weather every other weekend for over two months, and it was due this weekend, but the clouds wrung themselves dry on Saturday and the kids ran around grandma and grandpa's yard hunting eggs under the clearest of skies. 

I remember helping Elliott with the egg hunt last year.  He stumbled around the yard on his young and not so stable footing while I dropped eggs in his path.  He'd stop, never thinking to question whether eggs were supposed to rain down from the sky, and pick up the egg and put it in his bag.  Then he'd wobble into the path of the next egg shower.

There was no wobbling this year.  It was pure sprinting.  I did have to give him some subtle hints about egg locations, but since I helped hide them, my subtleness was valuable assistance.  Once he had an egg in sight, he charged at it determined to keep it from escaping back to the sky it fell from.  The only thing that slowed his rummage was his desire to eat his catch.  He didn't like the marshmallow eggs, but he loved sticking them in his mouth whole while the sugar coating dissolved into streams of colored saliva that flowed down his throat and his chin.  When the sugar supply had ended, or when his mouth got sore from opening so wide, he would toss the egg aside.  I watched carefully to make sure it wasn't retrieved as a slobbery surprise by one of the other young egg hunters. 

On the holiday that celebrates new life, there is something very symbolic about young children running around the yard with an unmatchable spirit and energy.  I can't think of anything to better represent the hope that came to life when Christ rose from the dead and walked out of that tomb.  I often think that when he did, it was truly his hope that we wouldn't complicate life beyond the simple joys of a child.  Many days I believe we have, but an Easter egg hunt is a wonderful reminder that we don't have to.

Please enjoy the Easter photo album full of the great pictures mama took of our wonderful day.  

Easter Photos by Kim Faris

A Happy New Year

It was a happy New Year celebration around our house.  Grandma and grandpa were kind enough to keep the two boys New Year's Eve, allowing Katie and I a chance to go on a rare date.  We saw a movie, "Yes Man", and went out to dinner at our new favorite barbecue joint.  Nothing fancy, no tuxedos, just quiet and simple, which these days qualify as their own flavor of extravagance.  I don't know if it's a sign of age or a sign of parenthood or both, but I celebrate a good night's sleep with greater enthusiasm than ringing in a new year or wishing an old one good bye.  And I had one awesome year and couldn't look more forward to the next one.  I just prefer to do so with my eyes open.  So thank you to bumma and bumpa for a wonderful start to 2009.

The year 2008, like 2006, will go down as a year we'll never forget.  When you bring a child into the world - years, days and even minutes are etched into your life's mental calendar and they will never be erased.  As other days and milestones get scrambled somewhere in time past, two moments have secured a home in my mind, a mind destined for capacity issues as the daily happenings of two growing boys accumulate and seek their own shot at perpetuity.

Those daily happenings are as wide ranging as Elliott's growing imagination.  He lives with us, but he has found a home in a pretend world that is foreign to me.  He carried on a conversation with the stuffed snowman at grandma's house this week.  Grandpa wasn't at home at the time,  he was hunting, and Elliott decided to go look for him.  He walked up to the snowman who stands as tall as Elliott, looked him in the eye and told him "I'll be right back snowman, I'm going out in the garden and look for bumpa."  He can't wait until Ian is old enough to tag along on some of his journeys.

It won't be long until Ian will be up for traveling.  His head has lost enough of its wobble that he no longer passes as a bobble head doll.  When you hold him, he gives it all he has to stand up.  I used to enjoy sitting on the couch and with one hand, providing just enough support for Elliott to stand and balance himself on the arm of the couch.  I'm afraid Ian has physically surpassed any opportunity to be handled with one hand.  He may have surpassed any opportunity to stand on furniture without triggering a collapse.  

In 2009, I will once again resolve to lose weight and set a good example for Ian.  The resolution didn't work well in 08; I did however manage to keep my weight steady, which was a step in the right direction.  I like the hope that comes with a New Year, the opportunity to try again.  I am also committed to reading and writing more, developing a consistent exercise routine and volunteering more in the community.  I'll keep you posted on my progress.  I hope that all of you have a wonderful 2009 and that all of your resolutions turn to achievements.

A Very Merry Christmas - Sort Of

It has taken some time to recover enough from Christmas to write about it.  As much as I wish that recovery was as simple as catching my breath from a day that raced by as fast as a two year old can open his first gifts from Santa Clause, that is not entirely the case.

When I picked Elliott up from daycare on December 23rd, he and his classmates were gathered in a different room than usual. The teacher informed me that one of Elliott's classmates had been sick and his normal classroom was being sanitized. At the time, I didn’t think much about it. After Elliott threw up on me for the third time Christmas eve morning, I paid it a bit more attention.  By Christmas evening, as Katie and I took turns darting for the nearest bathroom, that sick little child was about all I could think about.  An evil side of me wished I had gotten my hands on Santa's list.

For the past three months, Elliott has attached himself to every virus and bacteria he could get his hands on at daycare.  Then, with the spirit of his Thomas the Train toys that he so adores, he transports them home and offloads them on our mouths or hands or any other body part that looks like comfortable storage for his tiny microbial friends.  If appropriate landing areas are not available, with the velocity only a two year old's uncovered cough or sneeze can provide, he sprays them into the air.

The morning after Christmas, as I struggled through my stomach virus hangover, I asked Katie to refresh my memory as to how much we paid for daycare.  The question was irrelevant, there was no figure small enough to satisfy me at that particular moment.  I could not escape the notion that I was paying to be sick.  In sickness, it's easier to become self-centered.  In healthy times, we have acknowledged the blessing of Elliott's daycare many times.  He loves his school and the teachers have aided his development beyond measure.  I just pray there are more healthy days than not ahead of us.

The good news is, there was a period of relative healthiness between Santa departing our roof and landing back at the North Pole several hours later.  It was time enough for Elliott to experience a Christmas tree that magically surrounded itself with presents overnight.  A red tricycle appeared out of nowhere; cookies and milk were whisked away like Prime Rib at a Golden Coral buffet.  Elliott's wide eyes reflected his youthful amazement at the entire scene, an amazement that filled mom and dad's hearts with a Christmas joy hard to duplicate.

This Christmas, Elliott was more into the process of opening presents than reflecting on the contents.  He had no particular care whether the gifts were his or Ian's, he just wanted to rip through the paper.  He'd barely have one present unwrapped before he requested "another Santa present."  It is a wonderful stage when a two dollar book from Walmart brings the same joy as a costlier Red Flyer bicycle.  I venture to say that many of our economic woes today would not exist if we all held on to this tiny piece of our youth.

Ian did just about the only thing Ian can do right now, he kicked back and took it all in.  He treated us to a grin of his own now and then, but that was more about Ian's latest phase than Christmas.  He has started to reveal some triggers that make it easy for us to see his bright smile.  Yesterday it was "give me five."  I'd slap his little hand, say "give me five," and right on cue he'd break into a big grin.   Mama's work is much easier, she simply looks his way and his happiness reveals itself over and over again. 

Elliott and Ian both provided us with a wonderful Christmas.  Sick or not, they make it easy each day to count our blessings.  Most of all, we are blessed to live in a country where we can freely celebrate the birth of Christ, a country where we can freely follow his teachings each day and without worry, pass those teachings on to our children.

Our family prays that  our friends and family experienced their own joy this Christmas. 

Be sure to check out the Christmas photo album.

    

A Thomas the Train Birthday

We celebrated Elliott's 2nd birthday Saturday.  His actual birth date is this Thursday, the 18th, but Thursday birthday parties are about as popular as snow skiing in Florida.  Finding a more popular weekend day meant choosing between the weekend before and the weekend after his birthday.  We chose the weekend before, putting some space between Elliott's day and Christmas day, hoping to minimize the opportunity for the old "one gift should cover it all" trick.  I know this trick well.  I used it to celebrate my dad's birthday, who shares December 18th with Elliott, the moment I had to use my own allowance to purchase gifts.

Elliott awoke from his nap to a house decorated withThomas the Train trimmings.  Percy was hanging in a doorway, James was dressing the table top and Thomas was everywhere.  If these names are not familiar to you, rent a two year old for a weekend and you too can be on a first name basis with these colorful, talking steam kettles.  When Elliott spotted the decorations, he shouted "Thomas."  We had chosen an appropriate theme.

If we questioned whether or not Elliott would understand the concept of receiving at Christmas, his birthday gave the answers.  When he opened his Thomas the Train beginners set, he shouted "look mama, it's Thomas the Train."  Mama was a good mom and acted like she was meeting Elliott's friend for the first time, but the truth is, she's been hauling Thomas and his friends from our living room floor to the toy box for months now.  That made her welcoming smile worthy of an Academy Award.

It didn't compare to Elliott's smile.  Oh, how I wish his life would remain so cheerfully responsive to tiny wooden toys that fit perfectly into his two year old hands.  Toys that don't make a sound unless he provides his own "choo choo" or some less than horrific crashing sound as the train derails off the couch.  Can I possibly help him avoid the marketing scam that is our country, the one that would lead us to believe that a shoe is not a shoe without a swoosh on it, a game is not a game without a screen and a controller, that the imagination and ideas of others are worth more than our own. 

I pray that I'll be able to help Elliott understand that many of the complications in life that inhale the simple pleasure that is Thomas, are complications we create.  Thomas doesn't lose his ability to bring us joy, we just quit looking his direction.   

Be sure to check out Elliott's birthday photo album and Ian's updated photo album.

There's No Such Thing As A Skinny Santa - Or Is There?

I spotted Santa Clause in an unexpected place this morning.  He was roaming around our house.  It has been years since I've experienced the kind of anticipation for the jolly old bearded bearer of gifts to arrive that I've felt this year, so it caught me off guard to see him before his traditional Christmas Eve landing.

If the premature arrival didn't throw me completely off the Santa Clause is Coming to Town sleigh, his appearance did.  He looked younger, skinnier, shorter and much more accepting of razor blades than I remember.  He looked a lot like Elliott.

"Is that you Elliott?" I asked

"Look daddy, Santa Clause hat," the impostor answered.

There is only one creature this side of the North Pole who refers to me as daddy, at least in a language I understand.  It was Elliott.  The hat that scared him to death yesterday was now a fashion statement. 

I am cherishing this first Christmas that Elliott has an inkling of what the season is all about; what it's about for a two year old that is.  It is a joy to drive him home at night as he points out every Christmas tree (any Ashland pine tree qualifies), Santa Clause lights and the inflatable lawn ornaments.  I suppose part of the joy this year is reliving my childhood.  A bigger part is realizing that the special magic of Christmas that disappeared when the boy next door told me there wasn't such thing as Santa Clause never really left at all; it was just patiently waiting to be rediscovered.  I am grateful that Elliott is leading us on that journey, a trip that will provide many thrills for all of us.

 

Keeping his fascination with Santa alive, Elliott looked up at this Christmas card today and asked:

"Where'd Santa Clause Go?"

Katie told him that Santa had gone to take a shower.  Elliott accepted that and moved on to his next activity.  It really is going to be a Joyeux Noel, if not a downright hilarious one.

My Favorite 5 Weeks of the Year

We have begun my favorite time of the year.  Whether you look at it as the end of this year or the beginning of the next, the calendar spends the next five weeks offering each of us reminders of life's real meaning. 

Thanksgiving gets things started.  The fourth Thursday in November comes each year to make sure we're focused on the many blessings each of us have in our lives.  For many of us, that focus this year may be harder than ever to find.  But in 1863, our country in the middle of the Civil War, Abraham Lincoln included these words as part of his declaration of a national day of thanksgiving, a declaration that has been honored each year since:  

The year that is drawing towards its close, has been filled with the blessings of fruitful fields and healthful skies. To these bounties, which are so constantly enjoyed that we are prone to forget the source from which they come, others have been added, which are of so extraordinary a nature, that they cannot fail to penetrate and soften even the heart which is habitually insensible to the ever watchful providence of Almighty God.

I believe in times as tough as we face in our country today, it is more important than ever to be thankful.  For many people like myself, we have family.  And as uncertain as our economy is today, family retains their value.  In fact, a sinking economy helps me understand the value of my wife and two wonderful boys more each day.  We have been living in a period of unimaginable abundance in our country, and I think we have been prone to forget the source from which it comes.  But each day that Katie and I have the opportunity to experience life with Elliott and Baby Ian, we know they are blessings so extraordinary in nature that they must come from God above.

We are all human.  And even the most thankful person is subject to the anxieties of the times.  So along comes Christmas, and with it - Hope.  A couple of thousand years or so ago God recognized a world headed the wrong way.  A world with little direction and little hope for a better life.  His answer was to send his Son who gave his life in order for us to understand that no matter how challenging life might become on earth, we can continue to prosper and thrive in his kingdom.  As Christmas rolls around this year, I hope the reminder of hope rings louder than it ever has.

And finally, as the last second of the calendar year ticks away, New Year's Day arrives.  A day built into the calendar each year to provide us an opportunity for a fresh start.  Full of hope and thankfulness, we are armed to tackle the new year with a healthy perspective.  Many of us do just that.  Some of us successful, some of us not.  But whatever the case, the best five weeks of the year will soon roll around again, assuring us one more reminder of what is really important.

We've certainly needed the reminder in our house the last few days.  On Thanksgiving day, just as we were headed to grandma and grandpa's house for dinner, Elliott got sick.  The poor guy threw up and fell into an all day slumber in my lap.  Katie and Ian went on without us and enjoyed the festivities.  Then yesterday, Katie took Ian to the doctor.  The doctor was concerned that Ian had a respiratory infection, so he had him admitted to the hospital.  Thankfully, the doctors who observed him last night felt he was well enough to go home today.  We are grateful we didn't have to endure the extended stay we went through with Elliott, who had a similar issue when he was two months old.  

There was one very positive sign with Ian.  His weight is up to 9lb 5ozs., which is over two pounds more than he weighed when he left the hospital after his birth.  

Elliott's photo album has been updated. 

It's The Great Pumpkin Elliott

Katie suggested that we should create a family pumpkin for Halloween.  Now that Elliott has reached an age where he understand enough of the world to get excited about many people, places, things and holidays, we can start to establish traditions, those little personal touches we’ll put on certain events to build anticipation for the next time that particular season rolls around again.

 

As fun as the whole tradition building process sounds, it also comes with a lot of pressure, especially the first celebration, the foundation that all future festivities will be built on.  In short, it was pretty important to get this project right the first time to assure that Elliott would joyfully participate in all future renditions of operation pumpkin.

 

My strategy was to allow Elliott to own as much of the process as possible.  We headed off to Walmart without a clear picture in mind for our project, but when we arrived and headed for the craft section, Elliott had a look of confidence that indicated he may have more of a plan in mind than I did.

 

After being held up briefly in the electronics section where Elliott and I failed miserably in trying to convince Katie that many families incorporate 52 inch plasma televisions into their Halloween traditions, we reached the art supplies and began to study our options.  Elliott immediately pointed at two bottles of paint.  Sticking to my plan to let this be his project, I grabbed both bottles of paint.  I took the liberty of eliminating any possibility this would turn into a finger painting project and snagged a couple of paint brushes. 

 

When we got our supplies safely home, we laid out some newspaper to protect the house from whatever direction this project was about to take.  Boys under two years old turned loose with paint make any efforts less than wrapping the entire house and all of its belongings in thick plastic a risky proposition.  Once all safeguards were in place, the fun began.

 

When I realized that Elliott wanted to coat the entire pumpkin in blue paint, Notre Dame Blue, my enthusiasm for the project reached new levels.  We worked together to turn our large orange melon into a bold blue tribute to the real reason for a fall celebration, our beloved Fighting Irish.  The pictures will help you get a feel for our efforts and a chance to enjoy our final product.

 

Elliott has been asking since the project was completed to “paint the pumpkin again?”  Oh, that kind of excitement is the guarantee I had hoped for, one that brings assurance that we have established a meaningful tradition and one that will help Elliott always understand the wonder of the fall festival we call Halloween, or as he likes to call it, “football players.”

 

As a disappointing side note, I had hoped the pumpkin would serve as a good luck piece, one capable of lifting the Irish to victory over UNC yesterday, a hope that was dashed when the Irish lost a hard fought battle, a defeat that limited the life of this pumpkin to Halloween day and not the entirety of the Irish season.

 

Be sure to check out the Halloween 2008 photo album to view the fun.

 

Move Over Joey Chesnut

We spent part of our July 4th tuned into one of Independence Day's fasting growing traditions. We watched the Nathan's hotdog eating contest at Coney Island. Defending champion Joey Chesnut came through in a tight contest, shoving (literally) 59 hotdogs down his throat in 10 minutes. He eats 59 hotdogs in 10 minutes to earn only a tie and force an overtime eat-off with Takeru Kobayashi, a six time champion of the event. The eat-off consisted of a race between the two eaters to see who could finish 5 additional hotdogs the quickest. Chesnut was the victor - meaning he ate 64 hotdogs in less than 11 minutes. It is amazing just how little imagination it requires to understand how disgusting that is.

The event would be otherwise unimportant, at least as far as this blog is concerned, except that Elliott finished his first complete sandwich while the contest was going on. He ate a whole slice of toasted bread smothered with apricot jam, which I find at least as disgusting as inhaling 60 hotdogs, but he celebrated like he too was standing center stage at Coney Island. The confidence he gained from this victory inspired him to eat his first bites of hamburger later on for dinner. That's an eating accomplishment I can support.

We ventured to the center of town yesterday to watch the 4th of July parade. It was a simple parade made up of various like groups of dogs, bicycles and a senior citizen group doing some sort of synchronized dance with lawn chairs. Of course each group was decked in red, white and blue. Elliott enjoyed clapping and waving as each performance passed by. He had his own little American flag which he proudly displayed high above his head as the parade passed us by.

I know he is too young to be "proud to be an American". But I spent a great deal of the day thankful that I am and feeling blessed that my son is. If you have even a limited awareness of the depressed conditions so many children are born into the world over, it is impossible not to be thankful for the opportunities Elliott will have just by being American. We live in an age where most of the news coverage and office talk revolves around the declining conditions of our country. But I'm here to tell you, this nation on the worst day of its 230 plus years has never seen one day of what many children will live in the rest of their lives. I thank God for the hope my children will have because of that flag Elliott so proudly waved yesterday, and I commit to helping him understand that pride with each passing 4th of July.

Don't forget to vote on the name of Elliott's brother clear at the bottom of the left sidebar.

Happy (I'm not buying it) Birthday Pal

Today is Elliott's birthday - at least one of those all too frequent baby birthdays. His age depends on the method you use to track it. He is officially one and a half. But if you're counting birthdays as half years, he would actually be 3, since that's technically the number of half years he has seen. Of course if you're using the baby counting method that many baby aging purists use, he is 18 (months). That would make him a teenager of sorts, so I prefer to adhere to the adult method of counting and recognize the milestone of his birth annually, which would mean my one year old boy did not have a birthday at all today and the day of celebration he and his mother engaged in was a bit fraudulent.

Elliott and mama used this manufactured excuse for a celebration to treat themselves to breakfast at McDonalds. I think mama's craving for the golden arches was stronger than Elliott's as he didn't want to pull himself away from the "dump trucks" and "buh dozers" doing work on the road just outside the restaurant. After getting their food, they had to find a prime location in the parking lot for Elliott to get the best view of the large pieces of machinery at work. It brings back memories of finding a prime location in those wide open acres of gravel lots to watch the old drive in movies. Mama eventually talked Elliott into leaving before the story had ended. But don't lose heart pal, if the normal pace of roadwork is followed here, it won't be ending anytime soon.

The two party animals then made their first visit to the Ashland town library. Elliott got to check out his first books, which I'm sure mama is reading to him at this moment as she settles him into bed. It is a nice little library actually. I've got to say that since I got my library card there, the first library card I've had in recent memory, I've been astounded by a couple of the parameters of that card. Most notably the limit on the number of books I can check out. 75. Yes, they restrict me to taking out 75 books at a time and I can only keep them a month. So the first question I asked Katie was if she also got a library card. I blissfully report the answer is yes. So now if we combine our cards, we can check out 150 books at once. I can actually picture us bringing 150 books to the counter and carrying them out to the truck. I can see them piled in the bed of the truck like a large mound of dirt as we drive through town and people standing along the sidewalks thinking that family does a lot of reading.

I'm sure the celebrations of this summer will only continue and we look forward to sharing them.