blessed beyond measure

Hey folks. It's me, Aden. Been a while since I wrote you last. Don't worry, I'm still going strong. Workin' hard every day to show my Daddy how tough I am, to keep my Mama on her toes, and to irritate my brother to no end. Life's good like that. They give me lots of excuses like that I cough too much or that it's this thing called "winter", but I just don't understand why Daddy and Mama won't take me outside to play. I am a wild, untamed spirit. I need to roam and explore, get dirty and eat rocks. They don't get it. One day I'll figure out how to get out of here on my own. I have lots of toys, and they're OK, but I'd much rather have a person to play with. Or one of those things that plug in the wall, that no one lets me touch. I am very intelligent, people. God sent me to this family to open their eyes to things they didn't know were even possible. Mama says, "No, Aden, it doesn't work that way." I s...

If you don't like parents bragging on their children or making a fuss over something small, skip this one. I'll be back next week with something else. Trey brought home his weekly letter practice sheet from preschool yesterday. And immediately my heart swelled up in my chest and I ran to congratulate him. Just look at those Bs!!! Oh, I am so proud I can hardly stand it. B is not the easiest letter to write. On top of that, during my last phone conference with Trey's teacher, she said he would start his letter practice page, then if he had any trouble with the letter, would stop writing and just scribble all over the page. We had a talk about that. But this is beautiful. Not to mention the fact that he earned a written compliment from the teacher. For a type-A overachiever pleaser who used to live for written praises on her schoolwork, I now think that compliments to my child are going to mean even more. Hooray, Trey! Did you happen to notice what the bear has in his b...

I hate taking pictures inside. Which is why there are very few photos on the blog so far this year, and also why it might be a while before there are any. It's just a bit too depressing to pick up the camera knowing all I'll get is dark, fuzzy, orange-tinted shots. Or super-shadowed, whitewashed, creepy-indoor-flash shots. Yuck both ways. I'll just tell you that both boys are still breathtakingly handsome. Says their mother. And that they are getting taller by the minute. And that Trey's hair is pretty much brown. And that Aden has received some comments on how thin he is getting. Don't worry. He seems to have my appearance genes, which means the belly and chin aren't going anywhere. I won't go all out and commit to the whole new recipe every month idea, but I did try a new recipe this month, and it was a big hit. This is pretty spectacular, with a few modifications. If you want my version, let me know and I'll post the details. How have I n...

I am not perfect. There. That feels better. So now I can admit to you that very often I have difficulty handling my two children by myself in public. Not that they misbehave a lot or run completely wild. But they are quite active, and loud, and both of them seem to have developed selective hearing at an early age. Great. But really, because I have such little control, and because my method of handling the loss of control is totally not something I want the public seeing, we just don't go anywhere. Church. Basketball games. If forced, the grocery store. That's it. Don't get me started on taking both kids to the grocery store. First off, the Kroger multi-kid carts with the racecar on the front are impossible to drive, and the basket holds hardly anything. Made the mistake one time, on a particularly large grocery run, of getting a normal cart so that Aden could ride and Trey walk with me. Never. Ever. Again. Well, at least not for several years. The Food Lion multi...

Wheeze, bark! Wheeze, bark! So goes the chorus of my children, who have apparently inherited my cough-intensive sickness of the last couple of weeks. Poor Trey, with his asthma-infused dry squeak of a cough, which eventually stirs up his reflux, and so he coughs until he gags. And poor Aden, with his loud, piercing seal bark. The first time I heard it, when he was a baby, I was convinced that he was dying. That one of his tiny little internal organs was going to come right up his windpipe. So yeah, the coughing chorus. I blame the oranges. Or rather, I blame myself for allowing us to run out of oranges. Back in November we bought 20 pounds of oranges from the FFA at Brandon's school. And the boys had an orange every day or two until they were gone. I am utterly convinced this is what has kept the boys healthy through the winter so far. Last year, they alternated colds every week from November to March. So, dear FFA, please save us 20 pounds of oranges every year. And, dear Kr...

would be the Magna Doodle. By far. By very, very far. When Trey first received it for Christmas in 2009, it was one of the first times he had ever actually chosen to play independently. I remember showing him how to use it, and then him going to his room and shutting the door. I peeked in to see him sitting in his rocking chair and drawing. And I went to unload the dishwasher. In complete silence and inner jubilation. Yes, it became a favorite then. It is even moreso now, for you see, the Magna Doodle is helping us teach Trey how to read. The game is played mainly while Trey takes a bath, where I will write, upside-down, a sentence or question for Trey, and he has to read it on his own. Sometimes we'll help him with a vowel sound (darn those longs and shorts), but the rest he does himself. And he has gotten good . Brandon tried to trip him up with a multi-syllable history-teacher phrase the other night. Cake. Well, it did require several minutes of sounding out, and a co...

I took embarrassingly few pictures on Christmas Day. Embarrassingly few. Like, fourteen. Yeah. We missed all of our extended families' formal gatherings and I neglected to take the camera to our drop-in visits. And then our Christmas Day festivities got hectic and I became cat-herder to Aden, who had no interest whatsoever in opening gifts. Anyhoo, here are the boys on Christmas morning. Aden went in to wake up Trey, who grunted and whined and hid in his bed. Until he remembered what day it was. Then we had to painstakingly wait on Daddy to get up. Boy, that was a tough ten minutes. And it was a testament to their personalities, as to how they approached their gifts. Trey took a moment to look around, as Aden jumped directly on the first thing he could find. That's about right. We played a little bit, then got ready for church. No nursery in honor of Christmas Day, so this was Aden's first worship service. For a child that hates to sit down, you can imagine how tha...

Surely that number is wrong. Can't believe we're here. My first baby. Oh, how I love the boy. This tall, skinny, energetic, super-talkative, creative, silly little angel. The one who turned me into a Mama. What shall I say of this delightful, complex fellow? Mr. Trey Isaiah is, after all, oh-so-delightful and oh-so-complex. Still babies his lovies, the doggie twins. Carries them around by their necks, which have long since run out of fluff. Hates to sleep with covers on. Likes picking out his own clothes. Mentions Abby the Dinosaur less and less. I suppose this is what happens when an actual person of comparable size is there in the flesh to play with you. Bosses Aden around like nobody's business. Also sings with him, rassles him, clotheslines him, Nascar-bumps him, gives him arm-length hugs when apologizing, banishes him from certain rooms, tickles him in the car, wakes him up from naps, helps him to obey the rules. Doesn't obey all the rules. Sasses me, refu...

That's the word. Grow up. For 2012, my one word is GROW UP. Yes, I know it's two words. You'd think my type A-ness wouldn't allow such a blatant error. Hey, maybe I'm growing up. This came to me as I was implementing one of my wants, as I got up half an hour earlier to do my devotions at the beginning of the day. I'm sick of falling asleep while reading my Bible, and it has done nothing whatsoever for my walk. Wasn't sure what to read, so I went to the concordance to look for verses with the word "new". Landed upon 1 Peter 1 - In His great mercy He has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead... 1 Peter 1:3 - and read the whole chapter. Then read it again, writing down words or phrases or concepts that stuck out to me. There were a lot. Read a few verses into chapter 2, because it was a continuation of a section labeled "Be Holy". This hit me like a truck: Like newborn babies, cr...

New. Brand stinkin spankin new. Could not have come at a better time. Yes, I know that each day is a chance to start over, that the mercies of the Lord are new every morning. But there's just something about taking down the old calendar to replace it with a new one. And you can bet I used serious force to rip down the old one. Yeah. So long, 2011, and good riddance. So last year's one word was honor. If I had to score myself, I pretty much failed miserably. Which makes me not even want to choose a word for this year. There might not be just one word anyway. I want to be a better mom. I want to obey the Lord even when no one is watching. I want to spend more time in the Bible. I want to continue living in the good enough, even if we don't have to. I want to learn to use my new food processor. I want to do more things with vinegar. Vinegar is a new discovery for me. I want to survive August 20. That would be Trey's first day of school. I want more patience. I want ...