The Velveteen Polar Bear

Like his sister before him, Henry has formed a deep and committed attachment to his blanket, or "Beebee" as they are known in our home.  This is great.  We are pro-security-object in our family, and perhaps the best parenting move we've made thus far was purchasing two of each of their blankets and swapping them out regularly to make sure that all of them get "seasoned" at the same rate.

At about 7 or 8 months of age, Henry made a unilateral decision to also become attached to one of his stuffed animals, a crisp white round little polar bear that was given to him by Uncle Kris and his girlfriend Laura.  I understood the draw.  He was soft and fluffy with a cute little face and beans in his bottom.  But of all of his stuffed animals, I most certainly would not have picked a bright white one for him to adopt as the lovie that gets puked on, drooled on, sucked on, and dragged across countless floors and rugs.  Needless to say, "PaBaBa," as Henry calls him, has been washed many times and looks as haggard as a thirty year meth addict.  

A few weeks ago, Henry started saying that Polar Bear was broken.  He would hold him up, watch as he hung limp, saggy, and grey from his hand, and state with a furrowed brow that Polar Bear was broken.  Kurt had the genius idea to order a new, identical one and then "fluff up" Old Polar Bear in the dryer and exchange with New Polar Bear.  We did just that, and at first, Henry seemed genuinely amazed and tickled that PaBaBa had been restored to his youthful, ripe self.  He bought the switch and hugged New Polar Bear, but within 30 minutes or so, he had put New Polar Bear out of his sight and was asking for Old Polar Bear again.  We tried buttering him up to New Polar Bear, but he would have none of it.  By bedtime, it was clear that we'd better figure out how to "de-fluff" PaBaBa or we were all going to hear about it.  

Alas.  Old Polar Bear returned.  Henry seems to keep him even closer than he did before, and he hasn't once stated that he looks broken.  

'Tis the Season

 Sometimes life is really hard.  Sometimes you feel exhausted and lonely and defeated before your feet even hit the floor in the morning.  Sometimes the only prayer you can quietly muster is "Help, Help, Help" over and over again and you're hard pressed to remember the last time you smiled.

This is not one of those times for our little family in our little corner of the world.  

This is a belly laugh until you can hardly breathe time.  A blast Taylor Swift in the living room and dance around like fools with the curtains wide open time.  A treat ourselves to Ruby Jewel Ice Cream on a warm Spring Thursday evening time.  A "Thank You, Thank You, Thank You" as your heart swells with gratitude time.

I live under the same roof with my three favorite people.  My husband knows how to make me laugh and knows how to make my coffee.  My children draw me pictures and cover me with sticky kisses.  We are healthy.  Our bellies are full and our bodies are warm.  Our hearts are regularly nurtured and our spirits lifted by our beloved family, friends, and neighbors.  

We attribute these blessings to the Lord whom we love and serve and know that in experiencing His love for us, our lives shift from black and white to vivid technicolor.  I don't at all expect that all of the seasons of my life will be easy and abundant, and I hope when our next trial comes, my song is still fundamentally one of gratitude.  But for now, we are basking in this season of joy and rest and praying that we have ample opportunities to let our cups runneth over onto each of you.

Here are a couple of random photos that somehow never got posted:

Our sweet kiddos in their Christmas duds.

Madelyn with her lovely Nana and lovely Mimi at the Heathman for New Year's Eve tea, a new tradition.

Sibling affection.

Just like Daddy.

Easter 2013

If all Easters for the rest of my life this side of Heaven are cold, grey, and rainy, it will be worth it for the 73 degree and sunny Easter of 2013.  Not hard to experience the joy of a Risen Savior with a day filled with sunshine, blue sky, blossoming trees, family, yummy food, laughter, and great neighbors.  Topped off with a bike ride.  In March.  We lose count of our blessings to be quite sure...

Lessons for age 5 and 34

Madelyn has reached the age when she's starting to get her feelings hurt by her friends.  "Mark didn't want to play with me."  "Katie called me stupid."  "Toby said my shoes were ugly."  She'll cry big, sad tears and collapse into my arms with genuine hurt and defeat.  I try my best to be compassionate and soothe her and encourage her to be confident in who she is and not let others' hurtful words dictate how she thinks about herself or feels about herself.  

I was reminded this week that this is much easier said than done.  Some of you know that things at my place of employment have been tense to say the least the last several months.  I have found myself for the first time in my professional career in the crosshairs of Human Resources regarding the non-profit organization that I am starting.  My employer feels that there is a conflict of interest between what I do at my current job and what I am endeavoring to do through The Family Room.  This, of course, is preposterous and literally elicits laughs from everyone I tell, but they have given me a "cease and desist" ultimatum and have pulled me into several disciplinary meetings in which I have been treated more like a criminal on trial than the exemplary employee that I have proven to be over the last 8 years. The thing is, I know who I am and that I have done nothing to deserve punitive action.  But hearing others say untruthful, negative things about you truly is hurtful regardless of how much your brain knows there is no merit.  And I'm 34 years old with a (mostly) mature brain and decades of life experience.  How much more painful and confusing must this feel to my 5 year old girl?

Thank God we have the unconditional love of our boys to buoy our spirits and make us laugh.

Kindergarten Round Up

Kurt and I had the joy this morning of attending Kindergarten Round Up at the elementary school behind our house, Chief Joseph.  We are part of Portland Public Schools which, put mildly, has been a mess for a good number of years.  Well, it's been a mess for North Portland schools...not necessarily for schools elsewhere in the city.  We bought our house over 6 years ago with the assumption that it would be a 2-3 year starter home and we would move before our kids would reach school age.  The housing market crashed one year after we bought our home, however, and we quickly realized that we were not going to be able to sell our house for a long, long time.  All of a sudden, we have a 5 year old who is ready for Kindergarten, and we're "stuck" in a neighborhood where the schools have been grossly underfunded and have frightening reputations.  Suffice to say, we've been quite anxious about this situation for the last year.

Sometimes, the greatest gift God can give you is to nail you firmly to the ground and keep you from being able to run away.  In just the last several weeks, we have watched with awe as several key decisions have been made within the Portland Public School district that radically improve the situation at our local school.  Furthermore, in actually setting foot inside the school this morning and meeting the dynamic, engaging principal as well as other staff members and PTA parents, we were humbled and so impressed with the community they have created and how committed everyone is to the safety, growth, and development of our children.  

Although God more or less dragged us into this school with a heap of fear and skepticism, we are now eagerly choosing to become a part of the Chief Joseph community and to take an active roll in continuing to improve the stability and learning environment of all of the North Portland schools.  We can't wait for next year to begin, and we walked out of the building this morning feeling like even when we someday can, we just might never leave North Portland.

Small Bits

I'm going to try something different for this space for a bit and see what happens.  This season in my life is just too busy (good busy) to keep up with writing long missives.  I think about what I'd like to write all the time, but by the time the kiddos are finally asleep at the end of the night, it just feels like too big of a task.  So rather than putting pressure on myself to write something long or important or inspiring, I'm just going to share a favorite observation or event or photo from the day in one paragraph or less.  The idea, remember, is that this space is our family's journal/scrap book/photo album...it just happens to be available for all of you to read, too.

Having said that, here are a few random thoughts from the day:

1.  I've started wearing exclusively black and white striped shirts and carrying a whistle with me wherever I go.  

2.  Chocolate cake made with 2 cups of red wine and smothered in marscapone frosting is, umm, delicious.

3.  Small siblings who study their big siblings and work to carefully copy their every move melt my heart.  Big siblings who sing/read to their small siblings to "comfort them" melt it all over again.

4.  I will read my children "whoa-ties" (ahem, "stories") anytime, anywhere, and I'll stop anything (well, just about anything) to do it.

5.  Chalk paint and milk paint might be my new crafty obsession (I know, I know...I need another hobby like I need, well, another new hobby).  My grandparents' table and chairs is gettin' a new facelift, y'all.

6.  I love my husband.  He's rad.  And he's not bad on the eyes.

7.  This is what happens while I sleep in on Saturday mornings:

Our Boy Turns 2

One of my favorite photos of Henry (taken by our friend, Eden).
His 100 watt smile is truly one of the most contagious I've ever seen.

I don't think I ever posted this photo!  This is Henry sitting on
my cousins Nick's and Pete's bike (that they built, by the way).
He would've sat on this thing all night long!  His love (or
obsession) of motorcycles has only intensified this past year.

The tiny human who perfectly completed our family turned two whole years old today.  Every time I looked at him today I remembered January 7, 2011 and how pure joy entered our family in one snuggly 8 lb. 7 oz. package.  He fell asleep in my arms as I rocked him before his nap, and given that Madelyn is at school on Mondays, I just indulged in his scent and his warmth and thought of how he used to fit right up under my chin and nuzzle in and sleep for hours.  He most certainly doesn't fit under my chin anymore...he's his daddy's boy!  But watching him grow and develop and share his passions with us is just so stinkin' fun it makes it ok to know that the baby nuzzling days are over.  Henry is an absolute fire cracker.  He is our zesty, spicy, own-the-room boy who feels everything intensely and has no trouble at all inviting the whole room into whatever emotion he is feeling.  Life with Henry is vibrant and expressive and filled with constant motion and curiosity.  You could put a wig and a tutu on this boy and a perfect stranger would still know with absolute certainty that he is all boy.  I have learned more about construction equipment and two-wheeled vehicles in the last year than I probably ever cared to, but I find myself eager to find out what Henry will inevitably add to this lesson this next year.  (If you ever come over to play, don't insult him by calling any of his motorcycles just a "motorcycle."  We have "Ducati's" and "Harley's" and "dirt bikes" but we do not have just "motorcycles, people.)  His big personality challenges me and rewards me in all the best ways every single day, and we are just so, so grateful for his irreplaceable presence in our family.  Happy, Happy Birthday, sweet Henry Finn!