I've tried to think of ways to make this poetic and beautiful, but am tired, so will opt for simple.
My Knight in Shining Armor came home from work early yesterday, and let me know he'd been laid off.
A very important thing happened at that moment: I was at peace. There is much that God has done in my heart to bring about that state, but I am choosing to remain there. For I am, in truth, the richest woman in the world. I have a husband whom I adore, and who adores me in return. Really, we are crazy about each other. I have two precious treasures of sons and one miraculous bundle of joy on the way. I have a Father in Heaven who is everything to me, and I know who I am in Him. You can't buy these things.
We are looking forward with faith to the good to come. We appreciate your prayers and encouragement.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Friday, July 9, 2010
The latest, or what's funny when you're five
I started this post probably two months ago, but since this is all for posterity, here it is anyway...
At dinner, SK asked what the baby's name was going to be. "What do you think it should be?" we asked him. He paused, thought, and suggested, "How about Gordon?" With painfully straight faces, we told him we'd think about it. Later in the meal, an Ernest Tubb song came on (no joke) and after hearing us say the artist's name, he piped up with, "Hey, how about Ernest?"
KiSA said, "If the baby's name was Ernest Gordon, it's initials would be E.G.G.G."
"EGGG!!!!" he collapsed in laughter. A brother (or sister, for that matter) named EGGG is just about awesome, when you're five.
Sometimes the wheels are turning so fast in his head I swear I can hear them squeaking. He asked me what the baby was wearing. "Nothing," I said. "Babies don't have clothes on until after they're born." That tickled him. Until he asked if he, too, was naked when born. "Yes," we explained. "Everyone is naked when they're born." "Ohhhh," he grimaced. "That's embawassing."
He loves to hear about when he was a baby. (When you're five, it's always best when it's about you.) KiSA told him how he kicked so hard that he knocked a pillow off my tummy, and he sometimes kicked my bladder and I would have to go to the bathroom. Bathroom talk is also incredibly humorous to him, of course. So it shouldn't have surprised me weeks later, when I told him we had to temporarily leave the playground so I could go to the bathroom, for him to loudly ask, "Did the baby kick you so you have to pee?" Thanks, son.
We thought Independence Day would be fun, but we found out that WB hates fireworks. He screamed at the sound of them, even down the street. It wasn't a particularly celebratory evening.
He is definitely living by toddler rules. These include the sentiment, "whatever you have I instantly want even though I didn't care about it until now" and "whatever you want me to do I would rather not, unless I then decide that I do." We are proud of how well his speech is coming along, though we often hear, "Me do," "I have turn," "Me want," and "Mine."
But my favorite, the one to top it all, was when he passed the buck. I confess, his older brother has blamed things on him before. So when misbehavior occurred, WB turned and pointed to the dog and said, "Gek did it." (Tex did it.)
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)