Eben's Summer Vacation

Oh, the joys of traveling with a baby!!! Eben can be a wonderful and delightful little fella, but buckle him in a carseat for 2 days and the whole family's hair may turn white. Considering the places we've been and the miles we've covered over the past two months, he really has done an outstanding job. Here's a glimpse in pictures of the Adventures of Eben's Summer Vacation.

"Can I see too? Whatever it is way up there must be fascinating since we've come all this way to see it."

"Don't mind me...I'm just falling off of this crazy hand thing."

Another delightful picture with strangers.

"Act like an animal? What animal slithers from grandma's lap in an instant?"

"Here we go again. Now what could possibly be more important to my mom, than holding me 24/7?"

"More kisses?! Seriously?!"

Playing with the Big Kids

It seems like just yesterday, Eben was lying dormant on a blanket, watching his big sisters run wild as dad spun them in circles before bed. Now, Eben has declared that enough is enough; no more sitting on the sidelines. He is crawling, walking, and climbing all over the place...and I mean ALL over the place.

He began his single steps about two weeks ago, while his biggest fans stood on the sidelines ready to dive to the rescue. Now with his very own cheerleader section giving their constant applause, he is off like a mini-wildman. He walks across the room, climbs up on the sofa, rides the rocking chair like it's a bucking bronco, and should mom turn for literally half a second, he races to the top of the staircase at lightening speed. Whatever life brings Eben's way, we can definitely tell he is not going to take it sitting down.

I guess this marks the beginning of what older and wiser mothers always tell me. "You'll miss it when this stage is gone!" and "They grow up way too fast!"

I must admit, I am getting rather nostalgic as these momentous occasions pass. Josephine's losing her teeth as fast as Eben is growing his. Wasn't it last month that she was getting her baby ones?! These stages pass me by before I can take a good snapshot in my mind. Right now, I pray I may relish the current moments of chasing a toddling baby, but I'm also looking forward to those moments coming in the blink of an eye.

Reliving Youth Through My Kids

When my siblings and I were little, we had a backyard full of hammocks. They were tied in all different ways, making each one a unique and totally wild ride. We would stretch out to fly, curl up to spin, or run and pump to swing and twirl until we'd make ourselves dizzy with delight.

This week my kids were introduced to their first hammock. What fun for them! Who am I kidding....What fun for me! They started off with trepidation, learning how to get each foot and arm untangled without plunging to their deaths, but within two days they have become dare devils galore. As I watch them, flashbacks of my childhood fun come flooding back. I can see already it won't be long before they start teaching this old dog some new tricks.

Isn't that true with most things...just when you think you are the expert Hammock-Heroine, a child can come along and teach you something you were too old to notice. It seems each day reveals a new way in which I should "become as one of these."

Traumatic Moments

Our peaceful summer morning was thrown into chaos at the discovery of one tiny little bug. Going about our usual routine, we were traumatized at the discovery of a tick on Josephine's head. Oh, the drama! As a child of such a sensitive nature, the fact that a tick was planted on her for an indefinite amount of time, biting and pooing, was just plain traumatic. As a mother, trying to be brave but totally freaked out, the fact that a bug was on my child and the idea that only I could remove it, and how I did so would determine if she got lyme disease or not, was just plain traumatic. To this day, I'm haunted by the frightening experience of having lice in my hair as a child. My poor mother had to cleanout, disinfect, and treat all five of us children plagued by those nasty things. It still gives me shivers.

A couple of weeks ago, Adela broke her arm and after two emergency room visits had it "fixed." This was traumatic, yet a rug burn on her other arm caused more tears and riots of emotion for an entire day. You would have thought I was recasting her arm, the way she was squalling about receiving a Barbie bandaid.

It's funny to think how our view of what is traumatic differs due to our life experiences. Had I not experienced bugs on my head, I probably wouldn't have hyperventilated in private after removing Jo's tick. If Josephine had not had a close encounter of the painful kind with an Arkansas cousin of said tick, she probably wouldn't have had such a weepy morning. Had Adela not experienced a broken limb, for which she barely whimpered, then she most likely wouldn't have screamed bloody murder over a tiny "owwy." Had Eben not experienced being set down (I know, I'm such a mean mommy), then he probably wouldn't cry hysterically when left in a room without a parental figure. And call 9-1-1 if Thess finds out her blanket is in the washing machine.

I've learned to seize these moments of terror as an opportunity to teach my kids to stop, drop, and pray. There is no comfort like going to our Lord, even over something as silly as tackling a tick. He provides what we need when we ask. All of us here caught in the traumatic moment of the morning were graciously given courage, peace, and a more relaxing day. There's nothing too small to bring to God.