Sunday, September 1, 2013

Summer Nomads

I have no real excuse to be two months behind with the Anneliese update. My apologies, daughter. Somehow, I was swept up this summer by the call of the cottage, spending more time in the Muskokas in the last month than I have in the last five years combined. Crazy, but I'm not complaining. Somewhere between vacations, our family found time to move cities, and we are nestled back where we started our life as a married couple, in the sweet city of Hamilton. It's familiar, yet different in all the right ways, and it is good to be back.


Anneliese. You are 8 months old and the days of sitting and smiling quietly are long gone. You crawl like the devil's on your heels, you eat steak, you stand alone for 10 seconds at a time, you say 'ah dun' when you finish your bottle, you are weaned, you love Jesse (even when he uses your head as a rock in leap frog) you are feisty and mischievous, and I know I will have my hands full with you as much, if not more, than I already do with your 2 and an almost half year old brother. You cuddle when you're shy, you scream when we leave you in the babysit, you chew on your toes to amuse yourself, and you love to sit at the table with us. You are starting to hate the gruel I feed you when I'm in a hurry, and I'm going to have to plan meals a little better to accommodate you as a 4th person at our table. And that's what I've realized this month. You are not just the baby, but another person in the family with an apparent, delightful personality. You are a smiley thing, and I sense that you may live up to my middle name much more than I tend to. Thank you for that!

My boy. Your laughter is contagious, your joy is robust, and your anger could scare a storm cloud. I don't always know how to keep up with your shifting moods and stubborn behaviour, but most of the time, I enjoy trying.  It feels like you've really grown up this summer. You are now a little boy, doing little boy things, with a sling shot in your back pocket, drinking chocolate milk from a real cup, riding your red and white tricycle, peeing in bushes, making up songs, roaring at your sister, and talking (in your own fashion) to grown ups about things like "dock spiders in heaven" and "waterpalls" and "apple duice". You are a stocky, strong boy with amazing hair. Your aunty Michelle harasses me to cut it, but 1) you hated your last haircut, and 2) it's shockingly blonde and curly and unruly, and that suits you. Jesse, my unruly boy, and Anneliese, my doppleganger, you are such a gift to us. Thank you Lord.

( Trike and slinghot combo- the ultimate toddler; church picnic lion cub)

As mentioned earlier, I have been up North a lot. We had an incredible week with Brian and Ali, and then I went on my own for a weekend with 'the girls' (a group of 9 old University pals ;) and then, to really top it off, we spent a week at Limberlost with the Sikkema clan. We had three cottages to split between all 20 something of us, and it was definitely the highlight of the summer. Dave and Maria joined us from Texas, while Mike and Rachel stayed behind with their newest addition- Susanna Jane Sikkema. My newest niece that looks identical to my youngest nephew. Very cute.  James could only stay a couple nights, and as the sun rose and I rose with it to heat bottles, change sheets and diapers and wet pyjamas, I missed him. And then when the volleyball games, kayak trips, wake boarding and skiing events presented themselves, and I ran back and forth between cottages to check on sleeping babies and hungry toddlers, I missed him more. When Anneliese tore around the place like a squirrel, literally stuffing her cheeks with peanuts and scraps of who knows what, and Jesse screamed for the 50th time for apple duice, "missing" started to feel a lot like "resenting", and that wasn't right. This past week was a timely reminder for me  to grow up a little and take up my mothering responsibilites without feeling sorry for myself.
 I'm still selfish, but being a wife and a mom and a child of God helps with that. Especially when God reminds me, and steers me a little straighter in the course. Thanks for that, too.

And so, with the trip behind us, this next week sees James starting his very first career and my life as a mom starting to get real. James will be establishing rules and routines for his flock of 33 students, and I will most likely have less success in just managing our two, wrestling with the notion of how to bring order out of chaos. Sounds like Andy Crouch has my number. I consider these photos step one in culture making.