"I want to pray for Mommy & Daddy tonight"

Grasping my hand in the parking lot of the gym yesterday, Andrew (nearly 3.5) stopped dead in his tracks, peered up at me and said gently, "I want to pray for Mommy & Daddy tonight."

After collecting myself, I said: "You don't have to wait until tonight to pray."

Andrew replied, "Okay. Thank you, God, for Mommy and Daddy, and oh, oh, oh....thank you for Maahgrit, too!"

I simply melted. For what more could a parent ask??? I am so grateful.

Earthquake

We all just experienced our first earthquake! Shortly after 1:00pm (after putting Andrew and Margaret down), I heard rumbling and things started shaking. At first, I thought it was a train going by. Since we live about 100 yards from the tracks, we hear and see it often. Correction. We used to hear it often. Now we don’t, unless we’re outside. In seconds it became clear that it was NOT just a train. My immediate thought was that a train had jumped the tracks and was barreling through the neighborhood…not a rational thought (in large part b/c of the huge ravene b/w our neighborhood and the tracks), but these are not rational moments. Simultaneously, I thought Andrew was having a party in his room. When he jumps on the floor, the chandelier in the dining room beneath him rattles. It started rattling like crazy and I heard so much other noise that I knew his two little legs jumping up and down couldn’t possibly make that much noise.

Suddenly, I just knew exactly what was going on. Even without having ever experienced anything like it, I somehow knew exactly what it was. I flew upstairs to check on the kids, to make sure no hangings were falling off the walls onto them. I didn’t say a word as I opened each of their doors. Margaret popped up, but went right back down. Andrew was actually close to falling asleep (he often doesn’t sleep anymore). He just peered at me, but didn’t say a word. No sooner than I decided NOT to scoop them up, the rumbling and shaking stopped. I stepped outside and talked to my neighbor, Heather. She confirmed my suspicions. I turned on the news to hear validation that there had been a 5.9 earthquake about halfway b/w Cville and
Richmond. REALLY?!?! By the time I turned to CNN, it was "the quake that rocked DC", as if the epicenter hadn't even been in VA.

"Jesus helps my broken heart!"

August 17th (Meg’s 11-month-birthday)

VBS was a HUGE hit for Andrew this summer. He participated at First Baptist (where we do Bible Study and MOPS during the year) and at our own Meadows Presbyterian while I taught 5-yr-olds at each. Margaret fended for herself in the nursery at both. The songs were all right up Andrew's alley (and continue to be in the car everyday!) and he loved the crafts and games. He doesn't understand why we can't go to VBS all week every week! As a parent volunteer someday, he will understand!

While singing a related VBS song today in the car, Andrew specifically asked me to turn down the music so we could talk.

Andrew: "Jesus helps my broken heart!"
Me (breaking through tears): "Yes. Yes he does, Andrew."
Andrew: "Mommy, why does my heart get broken sometimes?"

While trying to compose myself I'm thinking, "what do I say to that??". I have never changed the
subject so quickly, but I am so touched that he is connecting the dots!

J-E-S-U-S

The summer of VBS songs…

Meet up, meet up with Jesus. Meet up with him. J-E-S-U-S.

When I am afraid, I will trust in you. When I am afraid, I will trust in you...ohhhh ohhhh. When I am afrain, I will trust in you, my LOOOOOOORRRRRRRDDDDDDD.

So I look up to Jesus, my help. I know I can't do this myself. So I look up to Jesus, my help. And I'll trust in you. (rainbow!....get video) Jesus is the light when it's dark. He can heal the broken heart. He can make the blind eye see. Yes, you know he's trustworthy!

The whole crew at VBS

Margaret's favorite part of VBS week...her first cake, with Miss Tracey, no less:)

"I went poopy in the potty and Margaret is standing up...can you believe it?!?"

I would consider Andrew to have been potty trained for "#1" by age 2.5. I recall this not because I was documenting things in a timely manner, but because he was precisely 2.5 when Margaret was born and I remember being barely confident that when he visited me in the hospital, he would be able to tell me if needed to go to potty. Since he had previously gone "#2" right after breakfast, I thought that piece of training was going to be a piece of cake. If it was predictable each day, surely that would make this easy! But, no. He promptly "reprogrammed" himself to wait for when he had a diaper on...either nap time or first thing in the morning. I knew we were in trouble when he would go in his naptime diaper not 5 minutes after having it put on:(

In typical first parent fashion, we diligently worked to encourage going poopy on the potty. We tried pulling the diaper for nap. He went in his underpants...and didn't call for us to let us know. We tried pulling the underpants. He went in his bed and laid there with it until after naptime. Lovely! Then we gave up, thinking "Fine! If you want poop in your pants, then knock yourself out! We'll worry about this if it's still an issue before Kindergarten.". That is the kind of mellowing that you will do once #2 is in the house. Thank you, Margaret!

By 3+, I was over diapers (the size 5 ones, anyway). So we hit it hard again that summer. One glorious July afternoon, Daddy and Andrew called Mommy at work to say, ‘I went poopy on the potty and Margaret is standing up! Can you believe it?’ All the waiting was worth every minute of this priceless, unsolicited quote:)

"I went poopy on the potty and Margaret is standing, can you believe it?!?"

I would consider that Andrew was potty trained by 2.5. I am confident of this not because I was timely in documenting it, but because he was precisely 2.5 when Margaret was born and I recall being thrilled that we had passed that milestone prior to bringing home an infant. That said, I'll admit that it had been a LONG, hot summer reading Elmo Goes Potty in the powder room and that we had only mastered"#1". I thought #2 was going to be a piece of cake since he always went after breakfast. But as soon as we dropped the daily diapers, he waited for his nap or nighttime diapers. Enter Margaret into the mix, and we were suddenly not first time parents anymore and could care less if the kids was going poopy in his diapers. As long as he didn't need a diaper for Kindergarten, why did we care???

But shortly after 3 when he started going within 5 minutes of having it on, I declared that this was ridiculous. So we pulled the diaper at nap. And he went poopy in his big boy underpants. He did not call for me, so he sat there in it for his whole nap! So I pulled the underpants. He went in his bed. Again, he did not tell me, so he laid there with it for his whole nap! (Can you envision my head banging up against the wall!). Then one afternoon at the beginning of naptime, Andrew called me at work and enthusiastically shared that, "I went poopy on the potty and Margaret is standing up! Can you believe it?!?!?" No, sweet Andrew, I cannot. And I'm not sure which one makes me more proud:)

"I am bound, I am bound, I am bound for the Promised Land"

In June 2011, Michael and I took a pilgrimage to the Holy Land with our beloved Wellshire Presbyterian Church in Denver. It took us 6 months and some tactful urging by Margaret Bell herself to realize that we could indeed leave the kids for 10 days, travel half-way across the world into the unrest of the Middle East, and live to tell about it. Oh, and then there was the cost....the PTO cost for Michael and the financial cost of the trip. But you can't take vacation days and money with you when you go, so we bit the bullet.

All grandparents and half of their aunts, uncles, and cousins chipped in to make our absence possible. Not knowing what Andrew would understand or comprehend about it, we didn't explain the trip to him until a couple of days before. But what was priceless was his song of choice during breakfast for the few weeks prior to our trip. Before even telling him, he started singing a church favorite each morning: "I am bound, I am bound, I am bound for the Promised Land". Over, and over, and over again he reminded us of what was to come----for us, anyway!

The trip was the experience of a lifetime, no doubt.  Only after going did we realize why John has made the effort to go nine times.  What a blessing that is!  Below is a link to the Shutterfly Album I created.  It is an extremely brief version of the journaling I did while we were there, but a good review of our trip.

http://share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=0AZMmzhk1at2TCWg