our little corner of the world

Happy birthday, Matthew, and welcome to FIVE! You are very excited for your birthday today, and loving the celebrations.

As each year passes, it's becoming more evident just who God is creating you to be. And I don't think there could be a more classic last-born. You are textbook, Matthew. So many times I am stuck between laughter and lashing out. You really are hilarious, but sometimes I don't dare let on. Making others belly laugh is such a thrill for you, although I can't quite tell if you thrive on the reactions, or just being the center of attention. Either way, it catapults you closer to the comedian you already are becoming, every laugh an affirmation of your behavior.

Socializing and seeking out people are routine for you. All last year you walked through the halls of Trinity, saying hello to teachers, receiving hugs from students, and walking into offices to chat it up. Because of your confidence and sense of comfort there, I'd often find you in the lobby, already settled into a book or puzzle, waiting for me to return from the other end of the building. There was no hesitation in sending you to school this year, despite your young age - four years old for the first week!
On Monday you started your first day of Kindergarten. It was monumental for you. While I don't doubt for a second that you were nervous, I do think that your eagerness surpassed being scared. All these years of walking into school with Morgan and Andrew have given you confidence and an ease about just what to do. After all, you were born on the Friday of Morgan's first week of Kindergarten. You've grown up understanding our school's protocol from the very beginning.


















Dropping you off that day was a moment of pride for me. There were no tears from you, no second thoughts, no doubts about being left. Just complete enthusiasm for your future as a Kindergartner. And because of your confidence and certainty, Dad and I left that morning feeling just the same about you. No tears, no second thoughts, no doubts. You were born to soar. So much so that we've decided next week to do a trial run of full-day K to see how you fare. Something tells me there will be no turning back to half.



Standing your ground comes easy for you, especially at home. You've learned that your voice will take you places - it lets others into your world, your feelings, your life. This last year especially you have said some things with complete sincerity that are simultaneously profound and pretentious:
"Mom, I just don't like being a human. I have to always breathe." Big sigh. "Like in and out and in... ugh."

or

"Well, I made some bad choices today. I'm down here, and Jesus is up here, and I just need to get into Jesus."

or

When Morgan asked you to stop growling and making strange sound affects, you quickly responded with, "That's just the way I live, ugh!" As if.

And the thing about your comments is that they are simply pure, sweet observations. As much as you love a good laugh, your expressions aren't always intended to be funny or be a part of your show. One of the blessings of being your mom is that I can see the difference. I can see when you are really searching for an answer. I can see how your feelings get hurt when you aren't taken seriously. I see your sincerity, Matthew. You are more than those trite responses from others like "cute" or "funny", and worth so much more than a chuckle. You have a genuine heart that isn't always prominent, and I imagine as your grow older, you will realize that your charm and charisma aren't always the first answer to attain achievement.






You've done a lot of growing up this last year. Using such big words, noticing big moments, asking big questions. There's more trust between us now, and no longer am I as concerned when you've gone missing yet again. You know how far to go, and I know where I can find you.

What else has changed? Well, for starters, you have quickly ditched Daniel Tiger for more action-packed Paw Patrol. You have conquered water slides and diving boards. And you sing everything that comes to mind.

Still a constant is your train-love, and while you aren't building creative track-routes as much, I still see the devotion when we stop at a railroad crossing, or as you guide the bottom dishwasher rack back on the rails with sound effects, loading your plate every morning after breakfast.


You have turned a corner this past year, Matthew. You are thriving, soaking up life, and growing up before my eyes. One of my favorite things about you is that you're uncomplicated. Oh sure, you have your preferences and priorities. But you aren't fussy. Simple and straightforward is how you roll, cheerful and prepared to receive each day like a gift for you to unwrap.



And so as you head off into the year ahead, I pray that you keep questioning, keep cheering, keep exploring. Keep jumping in those puddles and approaching life with the same breezy outlook. But remember to keep your feet planted just enough to keep your sensibility balanced with your enthusiasm and your welcome from becoming worn. Take the Lord with you on your adventures and watch the blessings come.

You are refreshing, Matthew, there's no doubt. Dad and I cannot picture our family without you in it, and thank God for the gifts He has given you to share with us. I love you dearly.

Always,
Mom

You’re blessed when you stay on course, walking steadily on the road revealed by God.
You’re blessed when you follow his directions, doing your best to find him.
Psalm 119:1-2 MSG

Today was the first day of school for all three kiddos. They were a little goofy this morning, trying to get into position for the annual porch picture. Here we come... grades 5, 2, and K!

Happy birthday, Andrew! Today you are eight years old.

Your enthusiasm for turning eight has been building strong for quite some time now. The celebrations started a week ago, and won't finish for a week after, and you are thrilled to make it last as long as you can.

So what have you been up to this past year? Most definitely growing. You shot up three and a half inches between this birthday and last, and I was a bit startled to see your ankles when you tried on last year's school clothes.

You made your first visit to the orthodontist for a consultation and have zero qualms about returning. Because somewhere in the last 25 years, the orthodontic profession has wised up and made metal in your mouth a memorable - and positive - experience. Lobbies are full of iPads and snowboarding video games, beverages for parents, Wi-Fi and fish tanks. Points are awarded for good grades and cavity-free dental visits and can be redeemed for gift cards! For you? This is heaven on earth.

You've also taken off as a reader. You love to read for others, and the tone and inflection and expression in your voice draws me in. My favorite parts are when you break, look up, and comment in between sentences on something you just noticed or find applicable. "Those are twin consonants!" or "Well that would make sense because she didn't put a leash on." Every thought must be narrated. This is who you are, especially when you are nervous.




















The learning and reading and investigating in first grade was fruitful for you last year. You are fascinated by everything from sports to science. Your teacher was instrumental in helping keep your fears in check and also in helping you understand how to edit your thoughts before they leave your mouth. In just two days you will begin second grade and I wonder how your worries will affect your year ahead.


This past July, there were two separate fires in our neighborhood within a single week. We just happened to be driving home on each occasion when we saw the smoke, and like moth to a flame, our curiosity took us on location. In both instances, fire personnel had yet to arrive and your demeanor immediately changed to panic. We left abruptly, but those moments make me wonder... how much of life can we keep you from? How much SHOULD we keep you from? Is there more harm staying inside the bubble or forcing you to face big things with us by your side?

I also wonder if Dad and I are doing enough as parents to help you cope. Are we giving you the right tools? Assurance? Reminders? As your mom and dad, Andrew, we want to protect you, but also give you the means to grow into a responsible, independent adult who can handle a little struggle. Finding that balance between shelter and a shove from the nest is ongoing and specific to who God created you to be in the timing that works best for you. It's the timing that we are constantly reevaluating.

Despite having some anxieties in your life, you are still incredibly brave. You are the first one down the water slides, and immediately insist I come along on your tube. And you jump at the chance to save the day. In fact, earlier this month you were a hero you were for disposing of a dead mouse we found behind the garage when Dad was out of town. Not only did you agree to handle it, but you did so eagerly without any hesitation. I love your bravery, Andrew! Your sense of adventure prevents me from getting stuck in my own monotony.



Sometimes when you need a break from it all, you slip on your clogs and head outside. You have an innate ability to sense your need for solidarity, and are perfectly content to ride your bike or scooter all alone. Sometimes I watch you from the kitchen window, back and forth zooming down the sidewalk, just you and your thoughts. The same holds true in winter months when you slip away to the basement to play your drum or to the back room to pretend with Playmobil.



This past summer I've again enforced the "help yourself" attitude to breakfast and lunch prep in our household. You, Andrew, have eagerly prepared your meals without complaint almost every day and have eaten a cheese quesadilla with a pile of sour cream the entire month of July and again into August. Helping me grill or cook dinner brings you joy. Not because you adore chores - let's be honest, folding napkins comes with a lot of complaint - but because cooking is your thing. As are processed snacks with intense flavorings, a nice cut of grilled sirloin with heavy salt and pepper, and a hot slice of Pepperoni from Jet's. Now if I could only revive that affection towards fruit, we'd be winning.

For the most part, you are pals with Morgan and Matthew, but sometimes three's a crowd and that odd man out is constantly changing. Some days it's just the bros, some days just the bigs, and some days you go it alone. I like the versatility you share with them, but there are moments of frustration and impatience that come growling out of you. It's actually pretty great self-control considering you'd rather just clock them once really well.



Last February after days of sickness that culminated in a frightening night of uncertainty and a personal phone call to Dr. M, Dad and I took you to the ER at Children's where we started the process of figuring out how God designed your insides. Six months and several gastro visits later, we still don't comprehend the mystery of your system. And so we operate with intention and make our best attempts to prevent the severity of what we dealt with this past winter. Hydration, hand-washing, healthy foods, high hours of sleep and low moments of anxiety are the recipe for the best you.






In the meantime, we continue adore all of the ways God made you extraordinary. Your view on life is carefree and curious, sensitive yet adventurous. Cannonballs from the diving board and praying in front of a crowd aren't threatening to you in the least. Dreaming and creating are your sweet spot, where you feel purposeful and proud.



Andrew, you are a blessing to our family. May your heart always remain eager enough to guide you off the beaten bath, tame enough to keep you from danger, and God-filled with faith to keep your fears at bay.

I love you dearly,
Mom

"I am with you. I will watch over you everywhere you go." Genesis 25:18a