My little monsters

On the eve of my 29th birthday, I am pausing to reflect.
Actually, I'm just buzzing from 2 late night cups of strong coffee, and in the silence of the 11th hour I am taking an opportunity to sit and listen to myself think.
It's not easy, finding stillness, with three kids three and under, and the energy of spring filling their young lungs. 'Antsy" doesn't even begin to describe the pent up energy I had to deal with today.

I use to love having a March birthday because it meant spring.
Now spring means snow/sleet/rain/mud/wild things, in one giant hodgepodge pool of energy.
And I am tired. I wake up to bellows. Full scale stampedes happening down the hallway. Babies/toddlers/adults (possibly me) just yelling. It's madness. The moments of quiet are my moments of guilt, because it means I have resorted to berenstain bears, or worse, super silly songs. But for goodness sake, at some point, a woman needs to put her bra on in peace and take a morning pee.
Today was a day when the volume reached epic heights, and my patience was at its all time low.
The put together family photo on the mantle really masks the monsters we can become. When the baby jolts awake on repeat for 4 hours because any quiet moment is snatched away with warrior cries or blocks hitting the wall...my inner monster stirs.
And then when I spin my wheels trying to clean, discipline, eat, feed, change, and maintain and contain the madness, aka. the kids, I give in. Monster.

Sometimes I just get sick of hearing myself say NO. Of course, I have to say it, but it gets so tiring.
"No, you can't eat three bananas"
"No, you have to wear pants"
"No, you can't run around naked"
"No, you can't go to grandmas"
"No, I'm not going to spoon feed you"
"No, you can't throw your blocks at the wall...or at your sister... "
"No, you can't wrap that string around your neck"
"NO, you can't use your hand..  you have to use toilet paper!"
"No, you can't take the fish out!"

.. and then I catch myself and think.. do I really have to say this? Shouldn't they know the answer is NO!?

But they don't. They really think that these things, no matter how ludicrous, are within the realm of possibility. And then I wonder what I signed up for in this mind numbing job of motherhood.
The fact that I did, about an era ago, go to University and graduate with honours, means absolutely nothing.I am about as sharp as a sweet potato- casting about the house with wild eyes wondering when the house exploded and how come I heard nothing? Then realizing I've been hearing low grade bombing all day, starting with the first bellow from the bathroom when someones butt needed wiping, and so it's no wonder I didn't actually hear the house explode.

And in my sweet potato state, I lose perspective. I say equally ludicrous things, like when my husband asks if I'd like anything, and I respond "I'd like to be a vapour." And when he responds that he can't make that happen, I snap "Arent' you a scientist? Just figure it out!".  Of course the vapour thing is a bit extreme, but the essence of the request is simply that I can find somewhere to just get lost for a bit. To recover myself. To hear myself.
I ended up sliding under the table at supper time, only to see Anneliese poke her head under the table and say "hi mom".

So, today was a marathon.  The kids were an extra handful and I couldn't find that other hand. But I got through it. I even have a quiet hour to sit, write, and exaggerate my woes to the world. But with the quiet comes perspective. Some deliberate thinking over the past day, the past time. Tomorrow I'll be 29- on the brink of the next decade, and it's a little daunting. I suppose I am mostly daunted these days by the endless cycles of monotony that motherhood brings. But then when I really think about it, during these blissfully quiet hours of the night, I am daunted by what I'll do when they're behind me. Because God knows I love those little monsters :)

Mattea, you are already three months old, and you are getting ridiculously cute. Thick dark hair that keeps growing, big, round blue eyes, two chins, huge cheeks, roley thighs- you are just plain healthy looking and I like that. You bring me so much joy throughout the day, because you are simply so joyful. You rarely fuss, and if you do, it's because you just want to have a good look at me. I swear I spent the other day shuffling your bouncy chair wherever I had work to do, just so you could keep me in your field of vision. Your eyes are big, and curious, and if I may say so as your biased mom, intelligent. You have a lot of your daddy in you- I see that already. You made your own sleeping schedule, and stick to it religiously. You are asleep by 7 pm, and up by 7 am, and you get incredibly social-ed out in large crowds. You are serious and selectively smiley, and you love your big brother. It helps that he is always willing to put your soother in, sing to you, get you your diapers, and make you smile. Watching that Franklin episode on the role of 'big brother' might have been my best parenting move to date. Jesse takes the job seriously.
I am discovering the incredible gift I have been given in you, and Jesse and Anneliese. My heart keeps expanding, keeps delighting in things that from the outside are terribly mundane.
I love that God's plan for me is better than anything I could plan for myself. And it's landed me with three kids I can't imagine life without.

December was a social month.
Mattea's baptism pulled my siblings and parents out of their Sunday routines and into ours. We fed and watered them, and sent them on their way to second service.

Danielle and I planned and hosted our ESL Christmas potluck, involving a guest list of 45 people when counting teachers/spouses/children, and students, and it was a fantastic time of eating, talking, and carol singing.

Two days later we gathered our small group into our kitchen for a more intimate dinner affair, and though it was a tight fit, it was both comfortable and cozy-- which is exactly what I'm going for in a home whose aim is to be hospitable.

And then my little Anneliese turned two, so we had a party. Why not.
This last little shindig was a last minute shindig, and true to my consistent good luck with all things last minute, it was pretty great. I made a snowman cake, and an Olaf out of our last 2 balloons,  (because "Frozen" is a big deal around here)  and the stage was set. I also made a few little crafty things with felt (build a snowman) and with baking soda (make snowballs, and blow them up with vinegar) and Anneliese entered happily into her second year of life :)

And now James is on holiday, and we are gearing up. The revolving door reins will slip into my moms eager hands and we will feast on vast quantities of sugar, caffeine, and meat. It's a beautiful season.

To date, this has been a particularly memorable holiday, and I will label it one of my all time favourites. The weather was kind, for starters, and I avoided entirely the clawing feeling of claustrophobia and cabin fever. We did a 3 km hike with 3 kids and no one's face froze off, and continued to hike around various parts of Hamilton over the break.

We had a photoshoot with 30 people, and despite discussing the colour scheme to death, the whole thing actually turned out! Following pictures, we had a "kids christmas day" that went surprisingly well for how much we failed to actually plan it. We ate appetizers, played football and soccer, gave gifts, made crafts, and sat back to enjoy the charming chaos that children bring to any social gathering.

But the real highlight for me was the adult dinner. We did gourmet, and so turned the eating into the event, and throughout the hour or so that we stood and prepared our small individual feasts, kid-free, we connected again as adults, as siblings, as friends, and it was really very wonderful. That will be our last gathering in that home for a Christmas meal. The memories my kids have of grandma's house won't be that one. And so we played it up a little, sharing our most embarrassing stories under that roof (starting with my dad- whose memories stretched back to grade 5 in that house) and reliving some of our worst fights and best memories. Dave and I even managed to wash and dry at least 2 dishes together before he quit on me, and history repeated itself. If there ever was a pair to fail at kitchen clean-up, it was us.

After dinner, we opened some gifts, had some coffee, talked (blissfully uninterrupted by children) and then moved back to the table for round 2. Dessert was another event, a little more competitive with the crepe flipping, (of course) and then back to the living room to settle in and digest. Being a parent is wonderful, but I'd love to see a few more adult dinners sprinkled into my yearly calendar. Seeing my siblings  'off duty' was good. They were fun.

And that's how I'll sum the holiday. Fun. We had yet another party at our house to ring in the new year, which involved games, snacks, Chinese food, and a lot of yawning, and then that was it. Family flew home, we re-established our home routine, and this morning James got up and went to work.
And now I try to implement the resolutions I have set for myself, create good habits that will stay in place as I grow another year older, and steel myself against the inevitable cold that January will bring. And that involves a good reading list :)

Life with three

Mattea- you are almost three weeks old, and here's an update just for you. ( I want to ensure that I write things 'just for you' because you may find that being third down the line, there's not a lot coming down the pipeline that hasn't been first discovered and handled by your older siblings. SO, this is for you.
Day 1 was a day to relax and recover. You were my pretty little stranger, with dark hair, brown skin, and big eyes that stared.

Our first few days at home were blissfully quiet. Your grandma took Jesse and Anneliese for 3 whole days, and I am sure I fully recovered from giving birth in those magical 36 hours.
When they did come home, Jesse was a bit over eager, but a diligent 'big brother' nonetheless.
Anneliese- I'm sorry to say- did not take her role as big sister quite so seriously, despite the shirt she wore so proudly labelling her just that. She pretty much ignored you (and me) so it's safe to say she is still adjusting.

And I am adjusting to the irrefutable fact that children are, and will always be unpredictable. Our first night home as a family of 5, Jesse was up at 2 am with a sudden case of croup, and needed to go to the ER because he could hardly breathe. He recovered nicely from that, only to pick up a nasty cold, which he then spread to Anneliese, and you.

We got through that week, and headed into our first weekend without James, who was coaching an overnight volleyball tournament. So, first night with all three kids on my own proved to be another catastrophe. For starters, Halloween is never a great night to be home alone. We did a little bit of trick or treating at Uncle Doug and Aunt Vanessa's, just enough to get the kids thoroughly terrified of people in costume, and then headed home-- where we encountered more people in costumes.  Of course, I had only managed to get the kids undressed and then they were sprinting around the house like maniacs on a sugar high, and you chose that moment to want to be fed, so when the doorbell started ringing, I was in no position to run and answer it. So Jesse, hospitable soul that he is, was answering our door in his underwear, getting scared out of his wits by the trick or treaters, but not clueing in that he needs to STOP answering the door.  We ended up sitting in our house with the lights off, which was almost as bad.

When the morning finally came, I felt a surge of relief that we had survived the night. Turns out that feeling was a tad premature, because during my 4 minute shower, Jesse managed to get pinned under his dresser. He was providentially wearing his costume from the night before, and I think Bob the Builder's hard hat might have saved his life. The hat stayed pinned under the dresser, while his little body scampered out, relatively unhurt. I stood there puddling for a few more seconds (hadn't had time to grab a towel) desperately missing James' (at least, the extra set of hands). And that Mattea, is a sampling of what life is like with a 3 year old.

So while we are on the topic of your brother, I'll let you know that he also gets these ridiculous nightmares almost every night, (he currently is in one as I write this, and no matter what we do, he won't wake up). This, to my dismay, is moving from the realm of unpredictable to predictable, and we don't really have a clue what to do about it.

But it does have me wondering what YOU have in store for us down the road. Right now, you are a quiet, content, cuddly newborn. You eat, sleep, dirty up some diapers, and cry from time to time. You will soon be capable of a whole lot more, and although I'm much more experienced, I know you will throw your own curve ball at us in due time. Not sure I want to think about that yet, so I'll just enjoy the sleepy stage of life you are in. Because if you are anything like your brother and sister, you will grow up way too fast.

Labour and Delivery, round 3

I woke up Tuesday morning a total grump. It was a rough night of kids crying to crawl into our bed and moving into hysterics when we moved them back into their own. There is only so much 'cuddling' I can handle at 9 months pregnant, and my kids are sprawlers, which doesn't allow for anyone to really sleep comfortably.
This particular Tuesday morning happened to be my scheduled due date, and I was in no mood to share my precious bed space with anything other than my gigantic stomach.  I didn't realize it then, as I lay in bed crampy and grumpy, unwilling to admit the day had begun and stuffing a pillow over my head,  but labour had begun.
James was in game mode- rushing to put his tie on, and barely glanced over when I said- " this baby is coming today."
I mean, I barely heard it myself, being stuffed under my pillow, and not believing it anyways. I just thought it would be fun to throw James' off a little.
 Then the kids rushed in, and James rushed out, and my pillow didn't hide me half as well as I thought. Time to get up.
This is when things got interesting. Apparently, in the getting up, my water 'broke' or half broke, and I was startled by the painful cramps of pre-labour. Time to start panicking.
I wasn't packed (despite James' badgering over the past week) the kids weren't packed, the house was a disaster (we were recovering from the flu, remember!?) and I had absolutely no idea how I was going to get it together with James at work and two demanding toddlers scrambling around my ankles.
I pitched my previous game plan (which was to have a super stay at home cleaning kind of day) and opted to call my mom. She came over that morning, bearing donuts and coffee. Blessed Relief. The whole morning I felt 'off', but with work to do, I didn't dwell on it, and we tackled organizing and cleaning a substantial amount. Mom continued to spoil all of us, whipping out to A & W to grab delicious fast food for lunch, and then we resumed the cleaning- 'we' being relative, because at this point, I was having to stop and lean my head against the wall while my stomach tightened into a cannonball, and my kids fought over a bouncy ball, and mom carried on with her mission to make our rooms presentable for the newest addition. God bless her.
Around 4, I thought I'd give the hospital a call, just to see if my water potentially breaking was of any significance to them-- and as it turned out-- yes, in fact, it was, and I should really get my butt over there ASAP so they could check things out. SO, mad scramble to pack up the kids, call up James, and pack the 'in case' over night bag if things really got rolling.
Despite some maddening traffic, we got to the hospital at 5:30 pm, discovered my 'membranes had ruptured (fancy way of saying my water kind of broke) and were presented with two options. Since I wasn't even in the ball park of being in real labour yet, I could get induced, or go back to Hamilton (with the threat of being induced in the morning). We opted to walk around Beamsville in the rain and grab dinner. I may have gone into panic mode at the word 'induced' (see post on Jesse's birth story, if you are curious at that reaction) and so a walk in the cold rain felt delicious. During said walk, my water fully broke, contractions came every 2 1/2 minutes, and became increasingly difficult to walk through. We ended up back in the hospital a half an hour later.
I think the nurse was shocked, because she had just sent us packing back to Hamilton, but I told her in no uncertain terms that this baby was on its way. She gave me one of those dainty little hospital gowns, and a bouncy ball, and pretty much left us to our own devices. I heard a lot in the next 30 minutes about 'climbing that mountain-- getting to the peak-- and climbing back down'.. nonsense really, but surprsingly helpful. Also helpful that James was there to rub my back, and let me bruise the crap out of his hand while I 'climbed that contracting mountain'.
After half an hour, the climbing turned into pushing, and I found myself on the bed, ready for the last, and most painful stage of labour. In 20 minutes, it was over. There was a brief scare in the middle, when the babies heart rate dropped, and Dr. Nwebube raced out to grab some forceps. I think it was a tactic, because the sight of that forced me to practically pop my head off pushing- and soon after, at 7:47 pm, to be exact, my girl was born, unassisted.
And she's a beauty.  A dark head of hair, dark skin, 8lbs even, with a lusty cry, and a healthy dose of both Harskamp and Sikkema. Everything about her seems strong and sturdy and beautiful. We are thrilled that she is healthy, and here. Especially that she is here, and the fear of giving birth is behind me. Hallelujah!
These moments in life are very special to me. I get to see and experience the miracle of a life God created, and to receive the gift of a child God gave specifically to us, for His purpose, and His glory. And now we are home with this new little person, Jesse and Anneliese are (mercifully) still with their loving grandma, and I am just soaking up this clean, quiet living space, with my clean, quiet little baby. She has been so good so far, or maybe I'm just a little more experienced- but either way, life for us Harskamps has changed again. And if there is one thing I really do love, it's a bit of change every now and then :)

             The baby boom of the year, (beginning with Matt and Morgan's little girl, followed by Aaron and Michelle's little boy, and most recently, Mike and Rachel's baby girl) is nearing completion. There are only two booms left, and one of them is mine. Due in two days, I'm still feeling about a week or two away from the boom reality, which will probably have Doug and Vanessa squeaking their baby in ahead of mine. Fine by me. I am still recovering from the untimely visit of the thanksgiving flu, that knocked us all on our asses for a full 5 days. Horrible.

             I don't need to go into detail, for everyone's sake, but there was a lot of laundry, a lot of drugs, and a lot of NOT sleeping. SO, you can understand why the thought of introducing the newest Harskamp into the last week's madness was not a welcome one, and I think the mind has a lot of power over the body when it comes to that stuff. Every time I thought I might be in labour (and let me tell you, a toddler with the flu is exactly what would induce early labour) I told my body to knock it off, and carried on with the carryings on-- one hour at a time, for 5 very long, tiring, yucky days.  And now, here I am, emerging from the isolating cave of sickness feeling alive and very much pregnant. So, it is time to think about nesting.  I have to say, I don't have a clue what to expect with this little baby. I know I've already had two, but that doesn't really seem to register, when faced with the impending pain of bearing a baby. I wish we at least had a name. James and I can't seem to land on a mutual favourite, and so the baby is currently nameless, and that is not helping me 'nest'. 

            But there is some benefit to my procrastination in nesting. The longer I put it off, the sooner James starts to do it for me :) Like today, he took it upon himself to actually see if we can fit three little people in the back seat of our car. Initially, things did not look, and I got my first taste of that sentiment.." you should have thought of this sooner..." (But after a lot of coaxing and door slamming, the seats were made to fit, seating problem solved). 

            Dear baby #3. Don't think that because you are currently nameless and we have procrastinated planning your arrival that you are not already filling up our hearts to full capacity. Just know that I have my hands and mind full with Jesse and Anneliese- 3 and 1 1/2, and the place you are filling right now is not just my uterus. I love you already, my heart is full, and the pain of bringing you into the world is already worth it. And although you will most likely only wear hand me down's from either of your siblings,  (sorry, tight budget) and you may be a little squeezed in the car, and not ever experience a house of peace and quiet, you are going to have two older siblings to look out for you, and two loving parents to raise you, and I'm not sure what more planning is really necessary. So, we will leave the when and how to God, because He crafted you, He knows you, and He has planned for you. Looking forward to seeing you soon.

It's the 15th of September, and the heat was turned on. The heat. Summer has been clipped short, like a chicken's wing, and I am going to squawk about it.

I believe I kept my vow- that I would try not to complain about the heat this summer, but soak up every morsel of vitamin D at my disposal to carry with me into the coming winter. I was banking on at least another month of storage.

 Apparently the birds knew this was coming, and starting migrating in August. Apparently we are in for some strange polar vortex during September, a chinook during October, and a brutally long hard winter after that. Apparently, it's time to put the kiddie pool away for good, and accept the fact that my big plans to be a 'sunhat' girl this summer never materialized, even though I bought two sunhats so I could rise to the occasion.

Of course, if it were just me, I could deal with the clouds of gloom, the crisp air, and maybe even embrace the early festive feelings of fall. But Jesse and Anneliese have colds, and want to go outside in their undies, and don't like feeling cold, and so will last 5 minutes, come back in, and then turn the house upside down in their attempts to burn the endless energy God has blessed them with.

And it's September. Winter hasn't even really started to think about coming yet. This is all fall's fault.
Anyways, complaining is silly.
To cheer up with chin up, it has been nice seeing families emerge on the street again, walking their littles off to school every morning. I love seeing the small kids with their huge backpacks, always trying so hard to keep up with their bigger sib. I can picture Anneliese and Jesse in that scenario, and it's a warm thought.

That thought gets me thinking that there will be another little sibling to add to the picture in about a month! It's always strange to try and imagine the family with a new little stranger that's been added. I know I had a hard time picturing it when I was pregnant with Jesse, but Anneliese sort of slid seamlessly into the picture. I hope with this one, it's a smooth slide, cushioning the harsh reality of winter that will inevitably come. (I shouldn't let the seasons get to me, but deep down, I just know I belong in the Caribbean :))

James and I are leading a small group this year- we've officially been recruited, and start it up next week. We also begin our TELL program (Teaching English Language Learners). A new ministry being headed up by Danielle and myself to reach out to those in our city who find themselves isolated by language. I'm excited at the prospects of interacting with people from around the globe on a weekly basis, but I do feel like I'll need a serious boost in stamina over the course of the program. Either way, I'm very happy that James and I have become so plugged in at our church. It's a great family.

Speaking of family- mine is getting squirrely, and Clifford just isn't performing today ;) Time for them to get out and start running laps or something.

A red eye flight has left me exactly that- red eyed. Our family made it back to Hamilton after a great month out West. Josh has officially tied the knot, and the Harskamp clan continues to expand. Fantastically, we had a chance to meet our newest niece, Anika Marlee, born to Mark and Leah a day before our departure. I'm excited for them and what's in store with this new sibling for Elizabeth. Having sibs has a way of molding your children into little people they might not otherwise have turned out to be. I find it very fascinating.

This trip I've really noticed how Jesse and Anneliese are growing into their relationship with eachother, and so far, I like what I'm seeing. Jesse is becoming a true older brother. He looks out for Anneliese when other kids are on the scene, and gives her plenty of hugs and kisses, that she never seems to want, but he never seems to care. Warms my heart a little, to see my little guy love his little sis in a very 3 year old kind of way.

The kids did well, despite the gongshow of a flight we had with Sunwing. A six hour delay speaks for itself, but in a word, it was truly miserable. But, the beauty of another day is that it is another day, and just breathing B.C air was enough to erase the past 12 hours and get us pumped for our month long holiday.
We are no strangers to Surrey, having spent over half a year there, and seeing how mom and dad weren't off work yet, and we had no vehicle, it was up to us to make something of our first week of VayK. We tracked down bus routes, took the skytrain, walked to the malls, hit up the beach, and met up with friends, but for the most part, spent the first week with "just us". With the wedding in the works, things were a little chaotic, but I'm pretty good with chaos, seeing as it is my life most days.

A few highlights
1. the aquarium with Mark and Leah was a GREAT idea, and I could have spent at least another few hours just watching dolphins, otters, penguins, and parrots. There  was also a jungle exhibit with birds, butterflies, sloths, and monkeys, which seemed somewhat out of place, but was a pleasant surprise nonetheless. Afterwards, we met up with Mom and Dad and walked the sea wall, which truly never gets old.

2. White Rock beach with just James, myself and the kids. This little excursion was timed accidentally perfectly, and the kids had a chance to storm the beach as the tide stormed in, catch crabs in their sand pails, make sand angels, and chase seagulls.

3. Kayaking trip with James, myself and Dad in Deep Cove. This was a long anticipated trip, and it delivered. We strapped a couple kayaks to the x-trail, left the kids with mom, and explored some beautiful terrain. And I saw seals...in the wild!

4. Biking around Stanley Park and Granville Island with mom and dad. I think this one takes the cake. I had a pale pink 7 speed cruiser with a basket on the front (I've always wanted a basket) and a wide granny seat. It took care of me for the day, and I couldn't have been happier :) Dad pulled the kids in the chariot, and we stopped for picnics, popsicles, and pretty views. In a word- lovely.

5. Shuswap! Our kids got the chance to experience their daddy's cabin, and I think that's pretty special. James taught them the art of Roofio and swimming with puddlejumpers, and they loved every second of it. It was so great to have a space to hang with the immediate and extended family that was cut off from the every day demands of home. I learned a great new game-table crib- and just soaked up the beauty of life at the cabin. Definite highlight.

6. Wedding- of course, the reason we flew down was to celebrate with Josh and Kate. Jesse was the 'ringbearer'--which meant he could wear a new tie and race down the aisle to catch up with James, and then proceed to hide behind James' legs at the front of the church, while I tried to keep Anneliese from doing likewise at the back of the church. Having a kid free evening was also pretty fantastic :) Congrats to Josh and Kate!

7. Friends! We had a chance to say our goodbye's to the Reimers before they moved, to meet Dan's new wife, to have breakfast with Joel and his wonderful fiance, to spend a day with Trine at the cabin, and a few hours with Robyn at 3rd beach. James' went on a 3 day surfing trip for Josh's bachelor party, and I had a chance to see and get to know Leah just a little bit better.

8. Skytrain with the kids--just for the heck of it, we took the kids on the skytrain-- and I think it blew their minds.

9. Red Robin's with my man James. We split a milkshake, and discussed evolution, and it was a real date :)

10. All the time spent eating wonderful meals in mom and dad's back yard, with our children swimming naked in the shark pool. The sliders were particularly memorable, being James' birthday meal of choice, and I think they made his day. I hope so, considering I didn't do much in terms of gift giving,  for which I've been forgiven :)It pays to have a man with very simple taste.

And that, in a nutshell, sums up our month out West. It went so quickly, and we have no idea when we'll be back, but I am happy we could make the most of it, and that our kids had the chance to bond with their cousins, and their Oma and Opa. We will miss you all!

And just like that, spring is past, summer is present, and calendar pages keep me posted on potential. 

Old things,( like having mind and body frozen during that never ending story of winter)  are smudged into the back of my memory to make room for the pleasant present, and the not so distant past. 

Last weekend I went with a group of 7 other women to the women's national gospel coalition conference in Orlando, Florida. Despite the oppressive humidity, the weekend was a breath of fresh air for my soul. 4000 women worshiping God together is bound to leave an impression, along with solid biblical teaching and instruction on attaining biblical literacy to at least some capacity in this life. Great speakers, great girls, great lazy rivers and nacho platters. It was an oasis that charged me up for my role as wife, mom, and member in the church. A big take-away for me was a deeper understanding of God's call NOT to make me "successful" necessarily, but a call to service, even to the point of extreme sacrifice. Cue examples like Moses, Jonah, Nehemiah- to name a few. 

It has helped me keep my chin up a bit, when I'm dealing with crap up to my elbows because my girl has taken off her full diaper to create a masterpiece in her pack n play, or when my boy has at least 3 meltdowns in the parking lot before we even step foot in the store.  I won't say the joy of sacrifice comes easy for me--( I may have wanted to hop back on a plane for a 2nd oasis) but at least I'm slightly re-orienting my notion of what brings joy, and who joy comes from. I think this life will be a lot more satisfying when I uncover this truth more fully, but it's a work in progress. 

Anyways, I got back from the trip and realized my kids have grown up. Anneliese is singing real words to real songs, and Jesse is racing 7 year old kids on his bike at the park. I thought his training wheels were going to pop off. It's a little unnerving, seeing my little boy look like he's becoming a big boy. There is no doubt he's seriously growing, because he tells me every day, at least 3 times a day, that his "legs are broken" (translated- his legs hurt) and that he's hungry. He also takes naps. Jesse.. naps?! 

It gets my mind spinning about parenting and what exactly I am going to do when he doesn't tell me 20 times a day that he loves me, and the hugs and kisses become a little less frequent. Will I miss the little boy? Or will I only see him as he is in the present? Is the change so subtle I won't notice until I look back on this blog and remember the 'broken legs' and serious PDA? 

And Anneliese- that girl is so adorable that I completely missed the fact that she has been changing. Now her bangs are in her eyes, she wears a full pony tail, and everything she does is preceded by the statement " I do it". I can't even put her in her carseat without a fight. 

And then me- I feel like I'm carrying a bowling ball around, and it's throwing my entire lower half into chaos. If it's not already a bit of a kicker that none of my pants/shorts cooperate, it's even worse that now my legs occasionally give out. Pregnant and changing. Which must mean there's also another little person growing up right under my nose that I don't even know yet. 

But with all the change of seasons and little people, and bodies, I'm grateful that James appears to be the same. I don't think I could handle anyone else growing up at the moment, and since James has always been an old soul, I don't foresee a big spike on the horizon. But I'll have to check my calendar. 

A bit of spring

The doldrums of winter have passed and there is wind in my sails again. Springy things are happening--tulips popping, mud puddling, laundry hanging, ice cream outings increasing. We scooped up a cupful of frog eggs on our last hike excursion through the Canterbury Hills in Ancaster, and although the biologist of the family had completely lost faith in the little guys, (granted, they sat unchanging in a Tim Horton's cup of sludge water for nearly 3 weeks) I did not, and they hatched 2 days ago. We are now growing frogs on our front porch.

Saturday was a particularly enjoyable day, being Mother's day, despite two serious parenting fails.
 The first- James and I, picnicking at the park with the kids, talking about how awesome this park is because the kids CAN'T hurt themselves (ours usually do) when Anneliese falls off the jungle gym. A big drop. I didn't know I could scream until that moment. She was fine, overall, but James retreated into himself for the next 3 hours or so going through all the horrible worst case scenarios of what could have happened. I'm glad he kept that to himself. I'm much more the "oh, phew- she's fine- let's forget about THAT" type. To each his own. That wrapped up our picnic pretty quickly, and we headed into Dundas for a little window shopping.

Second fail-- deciding it would be a good idea to take the kids into a toy shop in Dundas. (Italics needed to stress that Dundas is the upper class side of town, and children just don't do upper class).  We enter- kids bee line for a wooden clown on a stick, start to fight over it, and then I step on it and snap it, in my attempt to get in between the squabble.  Then I hide the stick, (all my proper upbringing gone in that one instant) and football carry an angry son out of the store. James, in no mood for this, is already long gone with Anneliese. At the car, I tell him I snapped the stick, and he tells me to get my butt back in there and buy it (a good man :)) So I go, $20 bucks in hand, to buy my Mother's day gift on Mother's day. (side note- the lady said she was feeling magnanimous, (which I had to go and look up when I got home)  and let me off the hook. The word was a good one, if you're interested: generous in forgiving an insult or injury; free from petty resentfulness or vindictiveness: to be magnanimous toward one's enemies.)

Sunday was a day to bask in the glory of my parent's estate. Forsythias punching colour along the property line, magnolia blossoms in full swing, and the cousins dominating the tennis court on their little trikes loving life, liberty and the pure childish pursuit of happiness (plagiraism noted ) I love my parents home. Every time I go I have grand plans to take hikes with the kids and explore my old stomping grounds but we always end up just staying put and soaking everything in from the pond or patio. I forget that the kids don't need 'outings' like they do here in the 'burbs'. They have enough to do on the property, and that's exactly how I remember life at home growing up. I think that's why it's so easy to be there, and why I love taking my family there. And of course my parents are fabulous.

Another thing of note-and completely off topic-- every member of the former 'wild things' clan (my childhood friends for life) have now crossed over to the stage of motherhood. In order- Joc was the first brave soul to take the plunge, then me, then Vanessa, then Kristina, then Sarah, and now Cheryl. Congratulations friends! This was a topic discussed at length in the hoeing fields growing up, and can finally move from speculation to fact. I'm happy for each and every one of you, and I am ALWAYS available if you need someone to share a coffee with, and to give you an honest sschpeel on having life turned upside down,  and finding a way to navigate it while on your head:) Yes, sometimes it's that extreme.

Now a shout out to my babies.
Jesse makes me proud. For a week our driveway has been piled high in paving stones, and Saturday was the day to set out the skids and start stacking. Tim, Jordan, James and myself got to work, loading wheelbarrows etc, and Jesse came in with his little red wagon and just got it done. I think, on his own, he stacked 3 layers of the smallest bricks. Seeing that kid work makes me proud. I no longer work to distract him, but get him to work. Tonight he cut all the mushrooms for our dinner with his butter knife. I like noticing these subtle developments in my boy. He's a sweetheart.

Anneliese makes me laugh. Her life is a giant game, and I think that's pretty great. She sings a LOT - her favourites being Raffi's "It's my bathtime" and the classic Sharon, Lois, and Bram "Skinna marinky dinky dink". She repeats everything and has a dirt fetish. I think she's a grub on purpose, just because she loves the bath so much. Her hair is getting blonde,  and is going to be beautifully curly. Her eyes are more hazel now, like mine, but darker. There's nothing very delicate about her, but it's nice to know that she can fall (far) and bounce back up. A strong girl.

And baby #3. We don't know you at all yet, but I'm going to get a little look at you next week for my 19 week ultra sound. So far, you've been a joy to carry :)

Annnnnd it wouldn't be fair to talk about new babies without mentioning my newest and only Harskamp nephew- Judah Glenn Matthias Harskamp- born only 4 days ago to my wonderful bro and sis- in law Brian and Ali. As far as I know, they are all doing great. I'm pretty pumped for my kids to meet the newest cuz, and to see just what kind of boy he's going to be for his parents :) Can't help but hope he's a lot like J- bear :)

Changing my tune

I'm in the uncomfortable stage of my life where friends around me are drifting enviably around God's globe while talk at the Harskamp home is circling around that most unsettling word--"settling". In short- buying a house. Where and when and why are my constant question companions while I let this notion settle into my brain space. The pessimist in me hears the clang of mortgage, cramped crappy 70's home, 10X10 patch of grass passed off as a yard, city kids, but worst of all, nomadic freedom at its end. This minor chord plays while I fine tune my hearing to the major. Our own land, to manipulate, to plant, to beautify. Our own home, where we can knock down walls, and fix our own lightbulbs! A place to call ours, for real, for keeps, for starters.

As far as starter homes go, I'm stuck in an obnoxious b flat. Everything I've seen so far in this "glorious city of Hamilton" is a lot of buck for no bang. I'm told, "don't worry- it's a starter home" to which I am tempted to respond, well then- screw getting "started". Let's go to New Zealand. And if I received even an inkling of encouragement in this regard from my dear husband, the bread winner of the family, I would be happily spending our savings on flights there before Anneliese turns 2 and we've got to buy 4 flights instead of 3. But, the home convo keeps circling like a hungry turkey vulture, who will soon spot that lonely vole and dive. My problem is, I don't want a lonely vole. I want an R.O.U.S (if you don't know that that is, you should find out) That is to say, I want what people say doesn't exist- a big place, a nice home, close to everything, away from everything, peaceful, but sociable, reliable but exciting, full of potential, a place to grow the family UP all the way through, without switching from home to home until we arrive at 'the one'. I want exactly what I had growing up, and I know it's crazy to try and get it. But that seems to be my standard, and if it doesn't exist in Hamilton, might we try elsewhere?

This is danger zone. Leave Hamilton? Because you know, the grass is always greener...
Stay in Hamilton? Raise city kids!?!
At the end of the day, I know it's trivial. Put in its proper perspective, the turkey vulture will get a mouse and be happy because it's alive and soaring. I get that. But I get dreaming too, and that's my privilege as a human being. I don't need to have all my standards met, but I do like to set my standard and shape my visions. The dreaming part is fun too. Just all the more trickier when you are dreaming for two, then three, then four, then five.

Oh ya. We're having another baby :) And he's probably not going to care where he lives, as long as he/she has someone looking out for him. It's crossed my mind occasionally that it really isn't nice how short babyhood/childhood is, considering how long we have to live as responsible adults, buying homes, and paying bills.  But I guess the consolation is that while we do our duties in life, and live it, and love others, we can fill up the cracks with developing dreams. And that, folks, ends this blog in the right key, on the right note.

Home life chugs along, like a tired train tracking it's way across Namibia. The vast desert of winter... no end in sight, despite the turning of calendar pages.

-15 today, feeling like -50.

Hope the cold snap snaps by the time I'm 28.
Fingers crossed.

Right before church Anneliese walked into a door and got a huge goose egg.
During church Jesse wet his pants, and we had no back up pair. He ran out of church in purple tights (Apparently their ARE moms out there (with little girls) who pack these things)
 The outfit, coincidentally, matched perfectly with the purple ball gown Anneliese "insisted" on wearing. How does a one year old insist? It's a rodeo. A rope flings out of nowhere, fitting snuggly on the calf's neck. There's a second of absolute stillness. Just pull her in.  Then she balks, kicking, crying, stamping, snorting. The rope is slipped, the calf is free, show goes on. The jean jumper will slip the rope. Not the ridiculous purple ball gown.

Meal time has turned itself into a particular kind of nightmare. The timer is not a threat when your toddler asks for you to set it. And then has you dancing about setting three different timers at his request. Nor is the bedroom of any consequence when your son asks if he can go and sit in his room, rather than eat a green bean. Two hours restrained in the booster seat does NOT phase him. For the love of beans, (for which he has none) what do parents actually DO to get their kids to sample vitamin A?!? I find sanctuary in my well traveled thought-road " honey nut cheerios have everything a growing toddler needs" or " I'm sure one meal a day will keep him alive".
Dinner is dreaded, but dealt with.

On to bedtime. Thoughts of hot coffee push me out of the black hole of dinner and the next routine begins like clockwork. Drawing energy from the simple sound of percolating goodness, I fill the bath, plug it with a bouncy ball (the bath plug went missing months ago) and before the temp is set, one dinner-stained, naked toddler is vaulting into the tub, with his baby sister at his heels. I catch her, strip her, and then set her wriggling into the water- a naked guppy in her glory. My kids LOVE the bathtub.
The shower tiles don't. Like baby teeth, they started strong, but with a little wear and tear  they got loose, and then with  a lot more tear (literally) they have fallen out completely.  We've lost three, and  and it's now only a matter of time before the tile wall comes down.
Our landlord will have his hands full with the bathroom.

Every bath ends. This is known.  Yet it ALWAYS results in tantrums. We towel them, lotion them, diaper them, dress them, (quite deaf now by the escalated pitch of pissed offness) and then distract them from the fact that they are no longer pulling tiles from the walls.
 Parenting, I've discovered, is 90% distraction.

Post bath  is wind down time. Time to read a book, sing a song, get a sippy cup of something, then - stroke of genius- convince them that they should walk themselves to bed because they are just so tired. This works 10% of the time.
Once in bed, there is a perfect calm.
Never trust the perfect calm.
It precedes the storm of questions, requests, outbursts, general desperate attempts to get back out of bed because they have been duped into believing getting in was a good idea in the first place.

This is when I think two parents has never been more important. When resolve weakens in the one, the other is there to steer the course. "Don't give in!" "He's playing us" 'He'll get tired soon"- the verbal buttons we press on repeat while sucking back coffee because if we don't, we probably won't get to drink it while it's hot.
But then the trump card comes out, and there is simply nothing to do when it's played.

"I have to pee on the toilet".

What do you do with this? You lose every time. Don't let him go, do a load of laundry the next morning. Do let him go, and he might not have to, he just wanted to get out of bed and prove to you he could. And by this point, who is really winning anymore?

By 9:00, I let my breath out slowly, tension eases from the shoulders. The game is over. Anneliese and Jesse are simultaneously asleep, and until 11 (inevitably when Jesse tends to fall out of bed) there is a beautiful 2 hour window of opportunity to read and grow and learn and refocus on all the things I want to do in MY life. A selfish, important 2 hours. That's what I get in the day. I wonder sometimes about what life with babies has reduced me to. ( Reduced sounds like a bad word, but sometimes, it is the accurate word). Who am I to people anymore? Why do my blogs all focus around my kids? Where did James go? How did my demanding little kids bump him to the outer circle? Or do we both just have our noses to the grind and don't notice we are rubbing shoulders in the same circle? I think that's it. And I think that's why date nights are imperative with kids.
 James is here, marking papers and planning lessons. Our routine around 9 usually involves something coming up on the big screen and a snack of something and an hour of watching easy entertainment. Even with the kids asleep, bread and circuses live on. I don't know that this is a good thing, but after a day spent with min- tornadoes, it's  a needed thing.

So, this is a stage in life. A very real stage of life. At times it's my comedy, my tragedy, my history. But it IS my story, and I delight to tell it, exaggerate it, and find the humour in it (but only in the 2 hours of stillness does the comedy come alive.( eg. in the moment, a diaperless boy pooping on his chair holds no humour))

We don't always like it, but we may  love it, because God help us, we can't seem to help it :)

Talking about my girl.

Tomorrow my girl turns 1. I distinctly remember the months d.r.a.g.g.i.n.g. by until the big 1 year milestone for my firstborn. How did 4 months pass by me without so much as an anecdote for #2? I remember just hoping my son would make it to a year without dying. Anneliese, that thought hasn't even crossed my mind with you-- not that it shouldn't. Last week you fell into the bath tub, got trapped in the toybox, climbed onto the table, and attempted the stairs while my back was turned--and you've survived.

You started walking at 9 months. You were running at 11 months, and now you are on the brink of turning 1, and I want to freeze you here, just long enough for me to process how OLD you really are, and when you started doing so much stuff. I am not one to say things like "I need to process..." mostly because I don't. Things happen, I react, and then I move on.  But now I want to process. I have two wonderful kids. Jesse cried for 15 minutes today just because you had to take a nap. He adores you, but doesn't quite snup that you are a small girl, and he is a big boy. Today's game was fishing- he would toss you a spatula tied to a string, and when you would giggle and grab it, he would sprint down the hallway with his string, pulling you with him until you crash( letting go was not an option, apparently) These are the games you two play. And I pick my battles.

You love to cuddle your daddy. Yesterday both you and Jesse were clinging to his legs before he left for work, and I had to console two bawling kids that didn't want their pops to go to work that day. It's slightly irritating in the moment (being left with the riffraff of snot and tears to wipe and dry) but while I process this memory, it warms me up to know how much you guys love your daddy.

Sometimes I feel that for every one step ahead, I am 10 steps behind in all things domestic. In those moments where I let feelings of defeat wash over me, and silently pray that I can become a career woman, I make the decision to let everything be, myself included, and I just find a comfy place to lie down and watch you play. It doesn't take long for you to realize I am lying star fish fashion on the shag carpet, an easy target, and I become the make shift trampoline for as long as my ribs can stand it.  And then I have to play--balancing Jesse on my hands, tossing you up in the air off my legs, a regular 'ruff n' tuff routine- and it's hilarious. I mean,  I like a tidy house, and I like to walk on the floor without peeling squashed bananas and soggy cheerios out of my toes, but I also like to play and laugh and enjoy you-- it's good for us.

I wish it was easier to describe just you, Anneliese, like I described Jesse's solitary trek through babyhood, but you have a sibling that is shaping you, and I can't seem to find a lot of stories that involve just you. But you're a quick one. You were quick to be born, quick to sit, walk, and run, and I think behind those beautiful brown, smiley eyes, you've got a quick little brain madly working to figure things out-- most of the time it's working overtime just to figure out your older brother. It's been a quick 12 months, and I can't freeze the time. That's what words are for. I hope I can write down enough of them to capture the little girl from a year ago.

Love you.

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.

A few weeks ago I met up with some friends for a drink down the street, and I remember saying, "I feel like I'm ready for another adventure.." I didn't specify, I didn't dwell on it, I just said it and we moved on. And then one or two nights later, I come home and discover James' searching for flights out West. Music to my ears. We spent 10 fabulous days with our family in B.C, and the adventure itch was fully satisfied. I was a little apprehensive about flying with the kids, and sleeping schedules, and blah blah blah, but there was nothing to worry about. The kids were just fine. I'm discovering that they actually do put complete trust in us, and if I said it was O.K to jump off a cliff, Jesse might just do it. In fact, even if I didn't say it, Jesse might just do it. I was pretty happy to get Jesse to B.C in one piece. A few days before we left he stormed his little quad off of the tennis' court retaining wall (a 3 foot fall) and landed on a rock. Last year, he just ran off it and landed on that same rock. Next year he may try and tackle it with a bike. I'm currently lobbying my dad to remove the rock and replace it with a grass ramp. It's only logical.   When we got to B.C he pulled a couple stunts---jumped from the fourth stair into the invisible arms of who-knows-what and 'landed' it, despite buckling knees; and launched himself out of his swing, mid-swing, although I may have set that example without thinking of my little sheep. A.K.A-  total follower. Other than that, he played it pretty safe, and we kept him in one piece for the flight home.

It was so great to be back. I needed a chance to revise my former perception of the province, and this was the week to do it. Sunny skies, warm weather, clear views, and major beach time. Jamesis not typically a beach guy, but the beaches here come with grass options, and although Jesse and I opt for sand, Anneliese and James are grass people. Win-win.

But the sun and the beach were not the highlight of this trip. Seeing our family again, celebrating Oma's 80th, getting to know my sis-in laws better, seeing James around his brothers, his mom and dad, his new niece-- and especially seeing Jesse bond with his Oma and Opa- that was special. It was so fantastic telling Jesse at 5:30 am to leave us alone and knock on Oma's door instead.  Even more fantastic that mom actually opened the door and changed his diapers for us. Not to mention potty training him! Three cheers for an experienced mom of four boys! It was also so great that everyone was around and wanted to DO things! This made for full days, which I love. We planned our days to match what the kids could handle, so we were usually out the door exploring things early, and home in the afternoon to let the kids crash, and to get in some solid adult time. The adult time was centered around the kiddie pool where we could cool off from both ends- feet in pool, cold beer in hand ;) As dad would say, "Delicious".

We managed to squeak in a few evenings with friends, but we tried to keep those visits (as nice as they were) to a bare minimum. This was family time, and that's what we wanted anyways.
It was neat bringing a brand new person to James and Jesse's home away from home. Anneliese is about the age that Jesse was when we went to Ecuador, which blows my mind because I can't believe how much time has passed since that adventure. Anyways, Anneliese is 6 1/2 months old, has two teeth with a 3rd on the way, and is on the verge of crawling, if not already there. She likes to pull herself up to her tiptoes and watch the world. She doesn't sit in one place long, which reminds me of her brother at that age. Sitting is not a stage- it's a means to crawling, which is a means to standing, and soon, you can't let them out of your sight. So that's where we are at with her. She is still adorable in my books, but that has a lot to do with how much she laughs and smiles, and eats. She's into solids now, and I am not as anal as I was with Jesse about what I introduce and when. So far, her stomach seems to be able to handle it. It was also cool having Elizabeth around to keep our baby girl company. I wish they could grow up together. Maybe Mark and Leah should move.. ;)

Anyways, that's the update. One summer trip has come and gone, but there are two more on the near horizon. Who works anymore, right? ;)

The last few days have been cold ones, and I have descended back into the haze of unwelcome wintry thoughts. My thoughts are these.

1. Baking. I don't want to bake on a summer day. I think my 'not wanting to but doing it anyway' has affected my baking psychologcially. It is not loved, and perhaps because I have failed it, it has failed me. Strike three on the baking front. Rock hard scones, half baked brownies, and chocolate chip bars that somehow turned into a loaf of something. 

2. Shepherds pie. I don't want to eat shepherds pie on a summer day. It won't (and didn't) turn out well for either one of us. 

3. Cross stitching. Someone slap me if they catch me holding a needle and thread when the sun is shining. BUT, the sun has NOT been shining, and I am alarmed at how quickly my mind reverts to the pastimes of the homebound. I refuse to descend lower than the 14 steps it takes to get into our basement. Cross stitching has me treading on the 15th step. 

Yesterday I had to deal with a lot of poop. And by now you should know that I mean this literally. This is a blog that is documenting children. Aside from going through way to much butt cream, the diaper situation wasn't bothering me. But for whatever reason, Jesse's little body decided to take it up a notch, and he sat screaming and writhing on our couch for at least an hour, unable to find words to describe what the heck was the matter. THAT I can't handle. So James attempted a clinic visit, only to return early because it would have been a 2 hour wait and the clinic was closing. On his return (to my parents place) Jesse saw we were having pizza, perked up like a well watered dandelion, and resumed acting like his normal self. Was he faking it? I fear I spent all my psychological babble on scones, and I won't tread those waters here. I'm just happy he's back to normal. 

But, with every rose comes a thorn (unless they don't, in which case you will now discover that I don't know a lot about roses..) but what I'm getting at is that Anneliese took a turn for the worse during the night and was up on the hour coughing like a seal, and again, I can't handle THAT. (You might be wondering at this point, what I CAN handle. Sunshine people. I already mentioned that ) By the time morning came, I was half awake enough to see James heading out the door for work, hear Jesse crying in his bedroom, and see that Anneliese has her head in my armpit and isWIDE awake, but not coughing. Hallelu. 

Some people long to be adults. At this moment, wading through the haze of dream and reality, trying to figure out what cries are coming from where, and why the house is so cold and dark.. the realization of being the only adult in the house is not a good one. You can't just put the pillow over your head and keep sleeping when you are the grown up. One, it would suffocate the baby in my armpit, and two, two year old's don't like that. Jesse came and pulled off my pillow, and it was time to start the day that came out of the night that never seemed to end. (p.s. I think my past tenses have spilled into present progressives and simple presents, and I simply don't care right now. A less tired me would not approve, but at the moment, I'm making a new rule in grammar. Acknowledged errors are permissible, but only when blogging on very little sleep. I'll sign for that.) 

Yes, today was cold, clammy, and poopy. But at least it wasn't as poopy as yesterday, and both my kids were happy as clams, and although James came home cold, he came home early because the machines don't work well in mud, and THAT I can handle. 

Squeeked in the 5 month update.

My little butternut squash is 5 months old, has popped a tooth, gained some weight (17 lbs even) and stayed roughly the same height since our last doc. visit. She is a giggler, and Jesse goes to town trying to get her giggling. His classic 'go to' is to simply say 'jumping'. She invariably starts laughing at this. I think the origin story of this little escapade is that he was jealous of her carefree bounce in the exersaucer and thought he'd try and piss her off by stomping on the thing and making her bounce out of control. This made her laugh REALLY hard. Something beautiful was born that day. Now every morning Jesse just says the word and it works like a charm. 1 point for J-bear. I like seeing my 2 kids play together. It's amazing how Jesse seems to know Anneliese is just little and so he should tone it down a bit when he's dancing near her head, or swinging his hockey stick, or throwing his tractors. It also helps that she adores him, and he LOVES a good reaction.  I know this because he tends to get those out of me, but I'm a little more advanced than Anneliese, and I don't just do "happy". I've got an entire arsenal of reaction to get me through the day, and to keep Jesse on his toes. Still trying to perfect the reaction I typically have to the 3 am cry for apple juice, along with the bursting diaper and wet bed sheets. I'm a little over the top. Back to Anneliese. She just had her needles, so she's been a little off, as in off her naps completely, which is a real bust. Overtired babies are worse than overtired toddlers because they don't have words, and they don't care about T.V. All hope of bribing is lost on the overtired baby. This brings me to overtired moms. I am one. Currently. And although I want to soak up this sound of stillness in my home and use each precious bit of it, my eyelids are drooping, and my words are failing. Time. for. bed.

Anneliese battled her way through the first of (I'm sure) many 24 hour stomach flu's and emerged a little older. Our girl is 4 months, weighs 15.8 pounds, and is cruising in the middle of the stat pack. She recently slept straight through the night, and although that might have been because she was getting sick, I'll still take it.

This spring can be summed up with one word that I don't particularly like. Tease. Just say it. Doesn't sound nice. The word pictures aren't nice either- like when you tease your hair, purposefully knotting the crap out of it for a little bit of volume. Or when you tease your sibling just to get that nasty reaction you find amusing, or when you whip up a pot to go with that scone. You get it. I shouldn't be asking on April 21 if it is winter or spring. The upside is the hyacinths and daffodils are put on hold in the cold snaps, and linger on when they should be flopping to their deaths.  Die already!  Heat instead of hyacinths, please! 

To usher in the heat, I dolled up Anneliese today with one over the top ruffly outfit. Ruffled skirt, shirt, and bonnet. I mean, I really went to town. It's a wonder that I get such a kick out of dressing her up when I typically dread dressing myself. My closet needs a spring pick me up to say the least. I need some ruffle in my life.

I am enjoying the routine that I have settled into in the little town of Jordan. James is currently doing his final placement at Heritage under my old nemesis Huizinga, and I have come to the realization that I have married my 'nemesis'. Jack and James are two peas in a pod, and this somewhat startling realization has enabled me to reassess my old science teacher with a level of maturity that can set aside my hatred of chemistry, and thus my irrational distaste for the man in charge of teaching it to me so long ago. He did not succeed then, James will not succeed now, but at least I can separate subject matter from personality, and THAT'S what matters. Kapeeeesh.

I attend two Bible studies, and though I have heard rumor that people think this is because I can offload my kids in a free babysit, that is not the real reason. I actually like to learn, believe it or not, and I am doing just that at both Immanuel (reading the Lies Women Believe) and at Trinity (in a series called the Truth Project). These hours discussing the Word stimulate and revitalize me. Some girls started meeting up at Port Dalhousie with their babes, and I spent a chunk of my morning walking the Pier, showing Jesse the ducks, and watching the bomb of babies play together in the sand and at the playground. I particularly like that Rach attends, because not only is she my sis-in law, but our boys are tight, and they each visibly light up when they get a chance to hang out, and I find that pretty neat.

I like Jordan Station too. I like walking with my kids down the street. It's an interesting street with a lot of things that catch the eye, and I'm ready for what spring/summer have to offer in terms of its aesthetics. It also holds a lot of my childhood memories because my pal Kris grew up in a house on this very street, and I spent a lot of hours exploring with her.

The biggest blot on the weekly routine is how we spend Sundays. There is no rhyme or reason to our Sunday church attendance, because we have 3 churches to choose from based on convenience, and that's NOT how I foresee our families future Sunday routine. This needs serious ironing out, and soon. As I mentioned before, Jesse is a creature of habit, with a very impressionable little brain, and I'd like him to sense Sunday as a day set apart, and not because it's always a crazy day of flying around. Working on it...
Anyways, overall, the days fly by, and the days are fun. I love our family. I love to read about how to be a good homemaker. I don't always like to implement what I learn because I think I'm kind of lazy, but I aspire to keep trying because I see my role as a mom to be a pretty huge one. A God given one.  A job given specifically to me as a precious gift, and like the recurring statement of all my posts-since-time moves so swiftly, I had better use it well. 

Jesse's 2!

I'm so grateful that God has given us this kid to raise, and love, and teach. It's unbelievable how quickly two years have gone, and I'm running out of 'breathing room' to make those mistakes that I write off as "it doesn't matter yet, because he'll never remember". SOON, he will remember, but in parenting we have learned more than words will allow in this post, or at this hour. For one, I've learned that 11 pm, although not ideal, is the time allotted to me to take up this recreational activity of blogging. The house is quiet, the house is dark. Both are essential. Quiet to think, dark to dismiss the mess I can no longer see, which means I no longer believe it is there :) Anyways, Jesse is a champ. He woke up happy, loved his new red barn handcrafted by loving parents that did not always display that specific attribute while creating it-(it was a stretch) but certainly knew they loved eachother, and thus remained dedicated to their task and their marriage. Building exercises. And he loved it. We had a good day, made a cool cake, and threw a party for him the day after, and now I think he's getting sick. At the moment, despite the hour, he's coughing and crying. I guess I should know by now that those moments I think are 'mine' just aren't. This job continues to be the 24 hour 7 kind of job, so, I'm out. Hope the little guy kicks his cough soon.. I'm about 3 days behind in proper sleep. And still....I type. I'll let pictures do the talking later.   Happy Birthday Jesse. You are so fun, and I love you to bits. And then some :)