Awwwww, Bunnies!!!

Well, well, it's a big news day in the Catholic-big-family realm. Let's look at a) what Pope Francis actually said, b) what Pope Francis actually meant, and c) (in therapist-talk): "How does that make you feel?" Except I'm going to jump to part c first.

When I read last night's headline, "Pope Francis Says Catholics Shouldn't Breed Like Rabbits," I first thought this was an article from The Onion. Or perhaps from Eye of the Tiber, a Catholic satirical news website. But no, it's legit. So, taking the quote out of context, (which, let's face it, is what almost all secular new outlets and folks who are hostile to the church our going to do), here was my initial reaction in a thread on a Catholic Facebook page: 

Well, I just got done putting my litter of seven bunnies to bed. And I do feel insulted. As someone else here said, it is a phrase used in a derogatory way against us large family folks who, you know, actually try to follow the church's teaching. Look, there *are* grave reasons to use NFP to avoid pregnancy for a time, but they go way beyond "not feeling like you can handle" having a child. If we go with that reasoning, then very few folks would ever have kids. But back to the Pope... I never thought I'd be made to feel personally insulted by the Pope. Do I get a badge for that?

And, after ruminating on it for another hour or so:

In thinking about it more, I think the problem with the phrase is that it is often used by people to imply that people with large families are stupid, animalistic, unable to control their bodily urges, and irresponsible. When really, most of us are intelligent, loving folks who are fully aware of all the work and responsibility it takes to bring another child into the world, and we CHOOSE to make those sacrifices. So, no, Pope Francis, you're right. Catholics don't have to breed like rabbits. And I'm not. I thought I was breeding like a *Catholic.*

And, after sleeping on it and reading more folks' comments this morning:

If the Pope meant to say specifically that Catholics in extreme poverty should be encouraged to learn and use NFP when necessary, then yes, and that's how he should have said it! The problem is that he tends to speak extemporaneously, in an off-the-cuff, inexact manner. And it seems like he feels like he's only speaking to a local audience, the people in that city, or in that room. But he is the POPE, and everything he says is going to reported everywhere, repeated endlessly by friend and foe alike, and becomes grist for the mill. I now have athiest/agnostic friends & family messaging me this morning, saying, "See what the Pope said? Catholics don't need to have so many kids anymore!" So the Pope... the POPE, for Pete's sake!!!!!.... has today made my having a large family more challenging due to ill-advised remarks. It is extremely frustrating.

Now. Let's look at what Pope Francis actually said. (part a)

(you can find the full transcript here. I'm sorry, it's America magazine.)

10.CHURCH’S RESPONSE TO CRITICISM OF ITS STANCE ON BIRTH CONTROL

Christoph Schmidt (CIC): How does the Church respond to the criticisms about its position on birth control given that the world population is growing so much. And to the criticism that the poverty in the Philippines is due to the fact that Filipino women have an average of 3 children each?

PF:I think the number of 3 (children) per family that you mentioned, it is the one experts say is important to keep the population going,. three per couple. When it goes below this, the other extreme happens, like what is happing in Italy. I have heard, I do not know if it is true, that in 2024 there will be no money to pay pensioners (because of) the fall in population.

Therefore, to give you an answer, they key word is the one the Church always uses all the time and even I use it: it is responsible parenthood. how do we do this? With dialogue. Each person with his pastor seeks how to do that responsible parenthood .

That example I mentioned shortly before about that woman who was expecting her eighth (child) and already had seven who were born with caesareans. That is an irresponsibility (That woman might say) 'no but I trust in god' But God gives you methods to be responsible. Some think that, excuse me if i use that word, that in order to be good Catholics we have to be like rabbits. No. Responsible parenthood! This is clear and that is why in the church there are marriage groups, there are experts in this matter, there are pastors, one can seek and i know so many, many ways out that are licit and that have helped this. you did well to ask me this

Another thing in relation to this is that for the most poor people, a child is a treasure. It is true that you have to be prudent here too but for them a child is a treasure. (Some would say) 'God knows how to help me' and perhaps some of them are not prudent, this is true. Responsible paternity but let us also look at the generosity of that father and mother that see a treasure in every child.

Okaaaaaay. So let's unpack that a bit. Pope Francis is speaking following his trip to Manila, the Philippines. It is a highly Catholic country, 80%, with roughly 76 million Catholics. It also suffers from extreme poverty, miles and miles of huts constructed out of trash, More than one-quarter of the population falls below the poverty line, (27.6%), although that is an improvement , since in 1991 that figure was 33.1%. And that poverty line? 16,841 Philippine pesos per year, which equals about $378 USD. So, absolutely, the poverty is *real*. 

It would be easy to draw some quick conclusions: "The Philippines is highly Catholic. Catholics have big families. Therefore, the fact of too many children is causing the extreme poverty, and thus, they should have fewer (or no) children." Slap hands, neat tidy answer, done. But one could also say that while children suffer from poverty, that does not automatically make them the cause of it. They should be helped, families should receive aid, and opportunity... but just reducing family size will *not* solve the problems. There is also the matter of Corruption. With a capital "c". 

The Philippines is almost universally recognized as one of the most corrupt governments in the world. People my age will remember the astounding visual of Imelda Marcos' shoe collection, but it goes way beyond that. Their President Gloria Arroyo was arrested on graft charges in 2011. In June 2014, 2 senators and a veteran government official were arrested for embezzling over $5m from the Priority Development Assistance Fund. The list goes on and on, stretching back decades. Might not cleaning up the culture of corruption, graft, and bribery offer real relief to some of nation's poorest families? Here's what Pope Francis had to say about this:

"Corruption is the order of the day in today’s world, and the corrupt attitude easily and immediately finds a nest in the institutions, because an institution that has many branches here and there, so many chiefs and vice-chiefs, in this way it’s very easy for it to fall or provide a nest for corruption and every institution can fall into this. Corruption is taking from the people. The corrupt person who does corrupt deals or governs corruptly or associates himself with others in order to do corrupt deals robs the people. The victims are those -- where is he, the one with the (AGI) anniversary? -- they are those who you said were behind the luxury hotel, no? They are the victims of corruption. Corruption is not closed in on itself; it goes out and kills. Do you understand? Today corruption is a worldwide problem. Once, in 2001 more or less, I asked the chief of the cabinet of the president at that time, which was a government that we thought to be not so corrupt - and it was true, it was not so corrupt, the government: “Tell me, the aid that you send into the interior of the country, whether it be in cash or food or clothes, all these things, how much gets to the place.” Immediately this man, who is a true man, clean, (said), “35 percent.” That’s what he told me."

Clean up the vast political and financial corruption. Then you can lecture poor families, who are trying to follow the teachings of their church, about not having so many darned kids. And Pope Francis is right to point out: each child may be a treasure to their parents, no matter how tight the financial straits. Children bring hope. Joy. Laughter. Sweetness. At the risk of sounding like a baby shower greeting card, "The birth of a child makes all things new." Don't get me wrong, I know all the down and dirty of having lots of kids. Laundry, bickering, laundry, huge grocery bills, laundry, sibling rivalry, laundry, lack of personal space & "alone time." But it is absolutely worth it. It teaches each child...and the parents... to sacrifice for one another, to regard other people's needs as greater than one's own. Pope Francis himself also said, less than a month ago:

“In a world often marked by egoism, a large family is a school of solidarity and of mission that’s of benefit to the entire society."

and

“Every family is a cell of society, but large families are richer and more vital cells.”

Soooo... while Pope Francis is quite right to point out that Catholics in extreme poverty...such as the Philippines... should be encouraged to learn about and use NFP if they feel it is necessary, he was not telling Catholics the world over to stop having so many kids.That's a canard.

 

(bunny...canard....har har)

Indeed, earlier in the very same interview as the rabbit remark, he deplores what he calls the "Neo-Malthusian" mindset and the deplorable demographic death spiral of Western Europe.

So,  (cue Spanish accent),"I -do-not-think-it-means-what-you-think-it-means."

HOWEVER... it is very unfortunate that I, a mere laywoman up to her ears in laundry and fruity-scented markers, feel compelled to have to defend traditional church teaching against what the Pope ...the POPE!!... says. If I were able to give Pope Francis a message, it would be this: Please, pretty please, stop talking casually and extemporaneously to reporters on airplanes! Every colloquialism, every colorful turn of phrase, can and will be taken out of context and twisted around to fit someone else's agenda. And it makes life awfully challenging for us troops in the trenches. As St. Teresa of Avila said of the good God, "If this is the way you treat your friends, it's no wonder you have so few of them!!"

The Horror-That-Shall-Not-Be-Named

I said I wasn't going to write this post. Because believe me, when you are in the thick of cleaning up after six other people with a stomach virus, the *last* thing you want to do when you find a free, non-gross moment is to sit down and wax eloquent on the experience.

I could draw some deep analogy and tell you how I found meaning in scraping bits of half-digested noodles off the hallway carpet. I could say that I was a veritable font of maternal comfort as I soothed fevered brows, proffered sips of water, and patted little bodies on their backs. But really... I was just very, very tired. And earnestly praying... BEGGING... that the last two children and myself would be spared this plague.

These two days did open my eyes, though. I am so spoiled by our cushy society that I get stressed out over trifles...the glasses having specks after a cycle in the dishwasher, or the 9 yr old not having all his multiplication tables memorized *yet*, or the smashed Lego tower that was left out on the floor. These things are unimportant in the grand scheme... when there are mothers all over the world, every single day, praying that their children will survive any number of assorted illnesses. Or desperate for clean water to give them. Or wondering where they will go when the soldiers come or the bombs start to fall.

So meanwhile, I will stuff yet another mound of spoiled blankets into the washing machine. And count myself lucky.

Back at it.

Ho-hum. New Year. "Hey, it's been two and a half years since you wrote on that blog of yours, want to get it going again?" asks part of my brain.Not the part that's been up since 5:30 with the baby, playing roly-poly with the faceless Mr. Potato Head; no, the part which just got jolted to life by the first cup of coffee. That's the one that comes up with ambitious Ideas. And projects from Pinterest that I really should try, ("See how easy it looks?")

"Seems like a lot of work...I've got a lot to do....I don't know..." whines Other Part, which wonders vaguely where all the Potato Head face pieces are.

"Oh come on, they're scattered in the basement. You know they are! Just go down there and FIND THEM!" urges Coffee Brain. Coffee Brain is enthusiastic, beaming, frenetic, kind of like Richard Simmons bouncing up and down on a mini-trampoline.

Base-Level Brain knows better. "Eh... I'd have to put the baby down. She'd cry. And that would wake up the 4 and 5-yr olds. Then they'll want breakfast, and then they need clean clothes, then the others will be up..." The day will avalanche onwards, and I either have to roll with it or stand still ad get smothered in five feet of ice and snow. When will I find time to blog about big family life when I am so busy living it??

But what they heck. Why not? If I don't, who will? Oh, well.... the Duggars will. They're all over that. Everywhere we go, I hear, "What, are you trying to be the Duggars?" Errr... no. Why, we're only a little over one-third of the Duggars! And we don't get paid $40k per episode either, so there's that. Here's what we're doing: we are just loving the children we've been given. And trying not to get buried in laundry piles.

P.S.  Since the last update to this blog, we've had one more miscarriage, and one more baby, a GIRL this time, which is unfathomable and awesome. So if I refer to something pink or frilly, you'll know I'm not just cross-dressing my boys. I'll leave that for the celebrity parents.

The Clan on Vacation

We are currently recuperating from our big family vacation. This is not an undertaking we tackle often, as you can imagine the amount of preparation, packing, planning, and patience it takes to take 8 people on a week-long trip. However, I do think it's important, at least once a year if possible, to make the effort. Children are truly only small for so long, and these are memories that they will have for their entire life.  "Remember when Daddy took us to the drive-in?" (yes, we really did find a still-operating drive-in!) "Remember when the GPS lead us down that scary, curvy, one-lane backroad through the woods?" "Remember the round of mini-golf at the amusement park when the toddler snatched up our ball and ran away with it down the path?" "Remember when Gregory dumped his caramel sundae all down his front in his car seat?" All of these things are small, and may seem insignificant to us grown-ups, but here's the thing: what the kids are really remembering is the time you spent together. The change in scenery and routine cements the memories in their minds, but it is the experience of being with you and interacting with you in a relaxed and fun manner that matters most.

You do not have to go to great expense; in fact you do not even have to travel far, geographically-speaking. We just tooled around Ohio's Amish country (where, incidentally, families with 6-8 children are the norm and we were not looked at as if we were completely insane. A nice change!) Daytrips and staycations can also fit the bill very well. But please... take the time. Make the memories. They will be grown before we know it.

Losing Baby Seven

It might be too soon to write this post. But it might always be too soon.

We lost our Baby Seven last week, at 14 wks gestation, or at least that's when we found out about the miscarriage. An ultrasound showed the gestational sac, but no baby, meaning that the child died soon after implantation. The nurse practitioner informed me it was a "blighted ovum," and said, "I'm so sorry this was not the outcome you had hoped for." Wow, what a very careful, boilerplate, CYA expression. It's a bit like saying "I'm sorry you were offended" when you're called upon to apologize to someone.  I'm sure they see all kinds of women in all kinds of situations, so they are trained not to refer to it as a "baby" or a "child," but still, one would think they might be able to tailor the response to the particular woman at hand.  If she's visibly upset, I think you could safely say,  "I'm so sorry for your loss."

If you think miscarriage is hard for adults to deal with, try explaining it to your young children. Our four-year-old at first thought it was a joke. A baby dying? That's crazy, babies don't die. Once he processed the info, though, he wants to share his grief with everyone. He goes up to folks we know and informs them, "I'm sad because the baby died in Mommy's tummy." I was going to admonish him for this, but on second thought, why shouldn't he be sad? And why shouldn't he tell people that? Miscarriage is not commonly discussed in our society, but since approximately 1 in 4 pregnancies end in miscarriage, maybe it should be. I can't tell you how many women friends have contacted me, saying, "I know, I've been there."

It does help, having the wee ones at home. Not in the, "Well, at least you have other, healthy children." kind of way. But getting bouquets of dandelions and grimy hugs around one's knees never hurts. Plus, being so busy taking care of the littles gives me far less time to wallow in grief. Nothing reminds you that life goes on like diapers to change and dinners to cook and library books to be read together on the couch.

And nothing makes you realize how precious and precarious life is like losing one. Still we know we are not in charge of all this; even the children I have are not, strictly speaking, *mine;* I'm just taking care of them for a while here on earth.

"The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away. Blessed be the name of the Lord." Job 1:21. 


"Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? and not one of them falls to the ground without your father knowing it. But the very hairs of your head are numbered." Matthew 10:29-30

How to Miss a Childhood

I don't usually post a lot of links on here, but this woman's post made such a good point, and made it so convincingly that I had to share.
Please check it out: The Hands-Free Mama: How to Miss a Childhood
It's a good reminder for all of us, and I most definitely include myself in that, as to what our kids see and feel when we are hunched over our "devices" all the time, instead of really being there with them in the moment. That being said, I need to go make breakfast for my babies! God bless you all this day.

Indoor Cats and Outdoor Cats

It never fails to amaze me how different in personality all my boys are. I could classify them by the introvert/extrovert axis (2 introverts, 4 extro); the temperament scale (2 choleric, 1 melancholic, 1 phlegmatic, 2 sanguine), the Myers-Brigg inventory (although they're a bit young to sit through all those extremely annoying repetitive questions.). But I prefer the much simpler Indoor/Outdoor Cat distinction.

If you have boys, you know that they have a LOT of energy, and if you don't find an outlet for them to release it, they do things like beating on their brother's head with a Nerf battle axe or coloring red marker on the baby's face. All boys benefit from unstructured outdoor play. There is something about the green of nature, whether it be a manicured lawn or a dappled woodsy glade, that simultaneously soothes and energizes boys' brains (See ""Last Child in the Woods", by Richard Louv.) 

But we've noticed that some of our boys, especially those with choleric tendencies, have such a visceral need to go outside everyday that they are like Outdoor Cats: standing at the sliding door, yeowling until they are set free. If they don't get to roam outside during the day due to weather or a busy schedule, they start doing the boy-equivalent of shredding your favorite shirt or peeing on the laundry pile. (I love to secretly watch my children play outside, when they don't know I am watching. Is that creepy?) Once outside, they will be the ones whipping the bushes with a torn off willow-branch or running around the house as many times as they can in 2 minutes, "just to see." My Indoor Cats also love to play outside; but they will be the ones playing sedately in the sandbox or soaring nicely on the swings. The Indoor Cats will also come back inside after 20 minutes, complaining that they're cold, and sit down to do a puzzle or a mind-bogglingly complex European strategy board game. The Outdoor Cats would happily stay out all day in the teeth of a Michigan blizzard, making legions of snow angels and hurling snowballs at the garbage cans. 

Trying to equalize their amount of outdoor play, or trying to turn Indoor Cats into Outdoor cats, is a recipe for disaster. So try and work with their tendencies. Direct the Outdoor Cats to the pile of scrap lumber to build a fort, or to the weeded-over garden patch to create their own vegetable kingdom. And make sure you have plenty of challenging books, puzzles, games, Legos, math manipulatives etc, to keep those Indoor Cats purring. 

How about you? Do you have Indoor/Outdoor cats too?

Indoor cat Josiah and his super Lego pyramid

Outdoor cat Caleb and his caterpillar

...And Hence the Name

Any parent of more than 2 children these days knows the drill. There you are in line at the checkout in Aldi, Kroger's, Lowe's, what-have-you, just minding your own business and trying to flip over the trashy magazines before your little ones see them. Your baby is chewing on the rail of the shopping cart, your 3-yr-old, who is sitting in the middle of the cart surrounded by 7 gallons of milk, is eating all the grapes and throwing Mac n Cheese boxes over the side. Your older kids are milling around, staring in glazed-eyed fascination at the forbidden exotic candy, and trying to be "helpful" by loading everything onto the conveyor belt in a huge, precarious tower. You hear a gasp from behind you....and you know what's coming next. "Are they all YOURS?" asks the lady. "Yes," you sweetly reply, "they're great helpers." (That's on a good day. On a bad day, you might mutter, "So they tell me!" or "I think so. But not THAT ONE.") Then comes Phase II of the exchange: "You know what causes that, don't you?"


Over the years, we've developed many comebacks, as I'm sure you have too. Most of them I never speak aloud. Oh, they're snappy, and pithy and zingy, all right, and it makes me feel good to come up with them as I drive home in the van, fuming. Things like:
-"Yes, and we LIKE IT!"
-"No, what??? Oh my gosh, do you know?? can you tell me, PLEEEEEEASE???"
-(confused look) "We *thought* we had it figured out....but if that were the case, we'd have thousands of kids!"

But those are the things we think and do not say. I usually try to keep in mind what the undercurrents are in this situation. Does the person seem to be genuinely interested, or snarky? If it's an older lady or gentleman, I find their general attitude to be wistful or reminiscent, and their next words are something like, "We only had 2, we wanted to have more, but..." or "I was one of 8, myself!" I don't want to pull a defensive attitude against these sweet souls.

Now, there are others, whose tone and timbre indicate that their inquiry is not so benevolent. Such as the lady (probably in her mid-40s) in line at the library who tsked, made other grunts of disapproval, and muttered sotto voce, "You better stop having so many kids." Believe me, I started to unsheath my mama bear claws.  But do I really want to get into a philosophical debate with complete strangers, in front of my kids, in a time-sensitive environment? Will that really be conducive to changing anyone's mind?

 So I smiled at her and wished her a good day on the way out. It should not be my goal here to score debate points or put other people down.  I just looked at the joyful, energetic faces of my kids, and the bitter, dour expression on the woman's face, and knew that mine was the better portion.

Redeeming the Time

Note: This post is from waaaay back in 2004, as I am deleting another old short-lived blog of mine and consolidating some of the contents. Most of the old posts are going straight into the digital trashcan, but this one I thought warranted keeping. Ha....this was back when I had two kids! (So, I ruefully reflect, it should be three times as true for me now!)
__________________________________________________


See then that you walk circumspectly, not as fools but as wise, redeeming the time, because the days are evil. -Ephesians 5:15-16

Walk in wisdom toward those who are outside, redeeming the time. -Colossians 4:5

"How on earth are you filling the time without TV??" asked a friend, incredulously. It's true, my husband and I made the decision to forgo TV for the month of August. No more flipping through the stations just to see what's on. No more giving in to my toddler's demands of "Blue's Clues, Mommy, Blue's Clues!" Enough with the same old Friends or Seinfeld rerun we've seen 8 times already.

But my friend's question seemed to highlight the issue for me so clearly. Why do humans have this constant need to "fill time?" What is wrong with just allowing an hour - or even a day- to just unfold? And if we are acceeding to this need to "fill it," then what are we filling it with? If the answer is TV, then we are filling the time with refuse. Offal! Dung! Think about it: insipid sitcoms, most of which are just one long sex joke. Police dramas, in which bloody homicides are brought right into our living rooms. You would not allow these people into your home, but every night you spend hour after hour with them. Even shows, ostensibly designed to be good for children, portray parents alternately as buffoons or as over-strict martinets. Rebellious children are rewarded with adventures, romance, and the self-satisfying position of having been proved right.

Now, I enjoy good religious or cultural programs and truly worthwhile children's shows as much as the next Mom. But even when the content is positive, I see the slack-jawed, glassy-eyed expression on my toddler's face as he is glued to the screen, oblivious to whatever else is going on around him. The last time his grandmother came to visit from over 400 miles away, she arrived in the middle of "The Wiggles." He didn't even look up as she entered the room and greeted him. That is not how I want my sons to be raised.

I want them to value people over things, real relationships over mere entertainment. I want them to be able to be equally comfortable reading in the silence of the midafternoon and yelling and roughhousing in the backyard. And I don't want to just "fill" my own time with meaningless drivel on the screen. I want to be reading Scripture, and really taking its lessons to heart. I want to be thinking of and working on ways to make my marriage and family stronger. I want to learn to sew, learn Greek, write a book, evangelize my dad, bake a pie, build a sandbox. It's amazing how much more time I have for all those pursuits when the remote controls have been hidden away.

I don't want to merely "fill the time;" I want to redeem it. I want to make the most of the time that God has given us here on earth. This is our training ground for heaven. This is our mission field. I hope and pray that someday I'll be in heaven. The only question is how many souls I'll take with me when I go (although not in a fiery car-wreck kind of way!). Who will God have allowed me to touch and how will God use me as His instrument to help bring people to him? I don't have all these answers. But I know it's a lot easier to listen for them with the idiot box turned off.

OK, Third Time's the Charm...

*sigh* Alright, let's do this thing for real. Y'all can laugh and guffaw at me for daring to try and re-start my blog while dealing with 6 small boys and a seventh baby on the way. But let's give it a shot. Every time I read "Parenting...illustrated with crappy pictures!" I think, "DANG! That same thing happens to me all. the. time.! Why have I never thought to write about it??" So, here is the new blog, to the delight (or possible horror) of my Facebook friends everywhere.

O, Friend Morpheus

The sleeping habits of a young child may be constantly in flux, afftected by a move, the switch from crib to toddler bed, a change in napping schedules, what-have-you...but Xavier's sleeping habits have been particularly interesting as of late. Yesterday he fell asleep at the table in the middle of the afternoon, with his head half resting on his bear and his bowl of popcorn. Last night, he was the last child to fall asleep, stealthily toddling into our room at every opportunity to snuggle with Daddy (since Mommy was up folding laundry at the time). And this morning, at 5:45, he flings open the door of the nursery where I was encamped with Baby Gregory, cheerfully declares "I'm hungry, Mommy! And my bear needs a wash." and proceeds to propel himself full force down the stairs on his behind, thump-thump-thump, blissfully secure in the knowledge that I'd be following him. Which of course I was. :)

Digital Archaeology

Errrr... it's been a while since I posted...you might say! About 5 years. Having finally recovered my old blog url and password from blogger, perhaps I'll resuscitate the Blazek family blog, and truly make it a family project. I am always searching for a good writing (as in, composition) project for Paul, so perhaps this will work. Back in my day, we had pretty, cloth-covered blank books, which we scribbled in industriously and hid in drawers in bedside tables. But this is the 21st century, so blogging seems to be the way to go.

Much has happened in the intervening 5 years...Paul (age 7) and Caleb (age 5) are now joined by 3 more brothers: Josiah (age 4), Xavier (age 2), and Gregory (7 mos). We moved from our home in Richmond VA to Benton Harbor, MI, then to Cleveland, OH, and now back to Michigan, this time in Lake Orion, about 45 minutes northwest of Detroit. We are settling in and struggling to get everything unpacked and organized while continuing on with our homeschooling and daily tasks. Little by little...every box is a tiny victory.

Ride 'em, Paulie!! 

Caleb and his monkey. You decide which is which! 

"You OK, Mommy?"

Our children are getting so old, so fast, that I decided it was time I finally got off of my duff and created a way to record all these precious moments. Moments like, while I am cooking dinner and I hear Paul say from the other room, "No, Baby, NO!" and Caleb starts to cry and the saucepan starts to boil over and the phone rings and I hurdle over a pile of laundry to answer it only to have it be a representative of the Kerry campaign asking for donations.

Yeah. Right. Good luck with that.

But overall, I would not trade this time at home with the boys for anything. Every day they learn something new about the world. My heart aches with joy every time Paul runs over to Caleb and kisses him on the head; every time Caleb's face lights up with delight as he laughs hysterically at Paul's jam-encrusted face; every time they look at me adoringly and I know this is the best place for them to be. And for me as well.

Paul is now 2 and a half and is ...well....he's 2 and a half! He has so much energy, which usually gets displayed in new and interesting ways, such as the 15 minutes after dinner tonight in which he was running in circles throughout the house giggling to himself. He talks non-stop; it's as if he had a language explosion just after his second birthday, and must talk constantly to make up for his previous silence. Some of his current favorite phrases are:
"Mommy, sit lappa me!" translation: "Mommy, I want to sit on your lap."
"I want to hold you!" translation: "I want you to hold me."
"You ok, Mommy?" This is said whenever I make a loud noise, accidentally drop something, or said to Caleb whenever he starts to cry in the car. I hear this tiny voice of concern, "You OK, Baby? You OK, Baby?" It's soooo cute....until he keeps saying it over and over for 10 minutes straight.
Our favorite Paul trick is to have him recite the fruits of the Holy Spirit, which he can do, effortlessly. Sometimes better than his ABC's. Which is just fine, considering which one will be more important in the long run. He also loves Bible songs, which he would listen to 24-7 if permitted. I love to hear him suddenly burst out into song to himself as he plays with his cars or colors.

Caleb is now 8 months old, and is a generally very happy little guy. He's HUGE, weighing in at a whopping 23 pounds already and 28 inches long. I have friends with eighteen-month-olds who aren't that big yet! "My baby is a monster!" I shrieked at a recent woman's Bible study, during a discussion of our babies' weights. Ah well. It's the only time in his life he can be fat and have it be cute and adorable. He loves to scoot and crawl, always in the one direction I don't want him to go. He sits up with great stability and it now standing up while holding onto furniture.

I dearly love my boys, and I'm not sure I'd know what to do with a girl if I had one! I'd dress her in blue and hand her a truck. But eh, that's in God's hands. As in all things, He knows best.