He Really Can't Tell Any of Them Apart

Upon going upstairs at Grandma Betsy and Poppa Keith's house:

Andrew: Hey, Dad! I found one of the aunts up here!

Steve: Which one?

Andrew: I don't know. Aunt Lindsay, I guess. The one who came to my birthday party...

(It was Aunt Gwen.)

Mom is the short one...but can YOU tell the aunts apart?

Thankful

For these sweet little faces...

And these...(including the ear of the body that jumped uninvited into the frame as the shutter clicked)

For a long-overdue visit from Uncle Jordan...

And for this little smile...

We are richly blessed indeed. Happy Thanksgiving!

Pre-Thanksgiving Powwow

One little

Two little

Three little Indians!

The Birthday That Never Quits

This year Andrew's birthday felt less like a birthday celebration and more like Hanukkah. What with cupcakes at school, a family celebration, and a sleepover for our traditional shared party with Seth, we managed to spread Andrew's birthday festivities out over eight days.

We opted not to do a "big" party this year for Andrew and Seth but instead allowed each of them to invite one friend for a night at a local sports arcade and a sleepover at our house.

The boys had a great time, and our first sleepover party was a success. Lots of pizza, not lots of sleep...about what we expected. No one lost an eye, although Seth came close. That's how you know it was fun.

How poor Miss L spent the party...with bronchitis.

Celebrating our six-year-olds!

Mini-bowling at the sports arcade. The three-year-old baby brother was the champ!

Future NRA members Andrew and Josh. Perhaps we should have selected a Charlton Heston film for the evening's entertainment...

A living room full of worn-out little boys. We were so sure they'd go right to sleep...

A Vocabulary Fit for a Princess

For months now I have been following Libby around, begging her to say "More" at dinnertime or to tell me a cow says "Moo," only to be met with blank stares and the occasional half-hearted elephant gesture (swinging her arm back and forth like an elephant's trunk). Sure, she has been saying "Mama" and "Dada" and "Car" for quite some time now. She has even thrown out an occasional surprise new word -- to much cheering and acclaim -- only to take it back and lock it up in her baby word vault, never to be heard again.

However, over the past two days, Libby's internal talking timer has apparently gone off because she is starting to throw out words left and right!

First it was "SHOES!" No surprise there. Shoes are near and dear to Libby's little baby girlish heart.

Then it was "SAUSAGE!" (Another favorite. I said she was girlish, not dainty.)

Just now she has added "CRACKER" and "UH-OH" to her vocabulary.

Mama. Dada. Car. Shoes. Sausage. Cracker. Uh-oh. Words fit for a princess.

Really, who cares what a cow says?

Happy Birthday, Olivia...Er, Andrew!

Six years ago tonight, anticipation and exhaustion were running high. After 26 1/2 hours of labor (not that I was counting or anything), Steve and I were eagerly awaiting the appearance of our first baby. We'd been waiting 9 months to find out if we would be welcoming a baby named Andrew or Olivia.

At 8:58 pm, our question was answered. The baby was born, and the doctor said, "Congratulations! You have a baby girl!"

I looked at Steve and said, "We've got our little Olivia!" and I was overwhelmed for the briefest of moments that I had given birth to a baby daughter.



BUT THEN...




The doctor said, "WAIT! WAIT! It's a BOY! Wow, I've never done that before."

????????? What can I say? I guess you put a 9-pound baby in a 5'2" mom, and stuff gets a little smushed toward the end. But once everything got, ahem, straightened out, it was clear that our firstborn was indeed a boy.

And, as we all know, that little "Olivia" received a name change on the spot and became our sweet Andrew. In the weeks that followed, I kept looking at my little son, whom I immediately loved with all my heart, and thinking, "What on earth would we have done with a little girl?"

Now, as I look at my (gulp) 6-year-old boy brandishing his beloved light sabers, reading The Chronicles of Narnia, fake burping every chance he thinks he can get away with it, making his baby sister laugh like no one else can, and proudly insisting on sleeping without a shirt (just like Daddy), I think, "Oh, Andrew, what on earth would we do with an Olivia? What on earth would we do if you had been anyone but YOU?"

You are our precious little (but not for long) Andrew. You are the Andrew-est of Andrews, and we could not have done with anyone but you! We are so glad God made you YOU...and that He made you ours. Happy Birthday, ANDREW!

Becoming Friends

Ella and Libby

The Perfect Party

Adam: Mom, who am I going to have at my birthday party?

Me: Well, what friends would you like to invite?

Adam: Grandma Betsy!

Me: OK. What about some friends?

Adam: I want to invite Seth. And Josh. (both Andrew's friends)

Me: Well, what about some kids your own age?

Adam: Mom, let me pick my own guys!

Me: OK, OK!

Adam: And Caleb! What about Caleb? Yeah, that's a good idea. And, Mom? You and Dad can come, too.

Me: I'm honored.

Adam: Grandma Betsy. Josh. Seth. Dad. You. Caleb. And that's all the characters for my birthday.

What the Neighbors Must Think...

That precious little girl...why does her mother let her go out like this?

They're letting her run wild. Tsk, tsk, tsk.

What are those crazy kids up to now? They are collecting leaves from everyone else's yards!

The plot thickens...

Hmmm...

Why is that strange little kid trying to rake the tree?

Well, they sure know how to have a good time...

They may be looney tunes, but those are the cutest kids we've ever seen!