Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Five year Interview



Favorite Color: Light blue
Favorite Book: the Bible
Favorite Food: Pizza
Food that is yucky: Spaghetti with Sauce
Favorite Restaurant: Angelo’s
Favorite Sport: Soccer
Favorite Show: Thomas and Friends
Favorite Movie: Wall-E
Favorite Toy: Thomas trains
Favorite Game: Super Mario Galaxy 2
Favorite thing at school: Playing on the computer
Favorite Season: January, it’s the first one.
Favorite Place to Go: Our condo at the beach.
Favorite thing about Mommy: We like to play puzzles.
Favorite thing about Daddy: His pancake flipping skills.
Favorite thing about Grace: That she’s my sister.


Favorite thing about myself: Jesus is in my heart.
If I could go anywhere in the world, it would be: Disneyworld!
When I grow up, I want to be: a sailor, just like Daddy.*
When I was little I used to: Be in Mommy’s tummy.
Three words to describe me are: Awesome, Giggly, and Expert.
My one wish for this year: For Charlie to hurry up and get here.


*Ummm, Sloan is in sales.  He's not a sailor.  But this was Henry's answer.  Awesome.  

Monday, April 23, 2012

Angry Birds Party


On Saturday we hosted Henry’s 5th birthday party.  I attempted to convince Henry he really wanted a party at Monkey Joe’s or the pool, but he said, “No, Mom.  We can invite more of our friends if we have it at our house.  It will just be easier if we stay here.”  

Easier for whom?

But I do so love an at home birthday party.  What is the point in having a house if not to share it with your friends and celebrate the life that God has given you?  I mean, why have a dining room table that seats 12 adults comfortably if not to squeeze 22 preschoolers around it?  (Of course, my dining room isn’t large enough for the table with the leaves in it, so we had to put it in our living room.) 


He wanted an Angry Birds party.  So I googled “Free Angry Birds Printables” and was able to find and personalize this invitation.   



My buddy Melissa made 2 dozen cupcakes which I added Angry Birds Rings to, while Henry and I made this heck of a cake.  



For activities, I made a green pig piñata.  It was our Spring Break activity.   




Tips for making a piñata.  Figure out how you are going to hang it before actually making it.  And DEFINITELY before stuffing it with 15 pounds of candy.  Also, only do three layers of paper mache.  You  might worry that it won’t be sturdy enough to withstand the whacks of kiddos.  False.  5 layers will be akin to making it out of airplane grade aluminum.  And it will take parents wielding their children as bats to break it down. 
We also had an egg hunt (because we were trying to help those birds out!).  The eggs were filled with little toys and trinkets.  I figured between the cupcakes and candy, toys were in order.  Otherwise the party favor would’ve been Type II Diabetes.  Each kid could find a dozen or so eggs.  While we found our eggs, it began to rain.  (We were racing against the threat of thunderstorms, so I was worried about missing what was Henry’s biggest desire for the party—the water balloon fight.) 


And how should you best end an Angry Birds party?  By launching water balloons at three giant green pigs.  (Because what is the point of having teenage cousins if they can’t be targets at your 5th birthday party?)  




Oh, dear Henry.  You have been a joy since you were just a blob of cells in a photo.  Since you were the wiggler kicking me in the gut while we watched Ninja Warrior from our hospital room.  Since you fought your way out of the NICU and into our home.  My darling Henry, you fully deserved that Courtesy medal you won at your soccer game.  

Two more days until you are a whole hand.  When did that happen?

Wednesday, April 18, 2012

Redshirting


Tomorrow is kindergarten registration in Richmond. 

But we aren’t going.

Yes.  Henry will be 5 on April 25th and the cutoff is September 30th.  

And no.  It’s not because he isn’t smart or is socially backward.  (Though his teacher did mention he struggled with staying on task during clean up time.  Yeah, that’s not really a developmental issue.  I’ve met his parents, and they struggle with that as well.  And just focusing in gen…hey! Is that something shiny?)

Nor is it because I want him to be some ginormo child who makes the Varsity soccer team in 9th grade.  

Truth be told, the fact that our decision to hold him back is raising eyebrows is a bit of a shock to me.  I grew up in North Carolina and went to a small private school.  There were 52 kids in my graduating class.  Out of those kids, I can count at least 14 that were older spring birthdays.  Having boys 6 months older was my norm.  

So yes, part of our decision is that I don’t want Henry to be the last boy to go through puberty or get his driver’s license.  That stuff matters.  If you think a child’s physical development has nothing to do with their social or spiritual or educational development, than, well…I’d place a large bet on the fact that you’ve always been the average size or body type.  

And to be clear, the idea of my son being 19 when he heads off to college is a lot more settling to me than him being barely 18.  

Also, there is a gentleness to Henry that I want to keep intact.  He tends to seek out the kids who are lonely or shy and befriend them.  He will be a good oldest kid in the class.  And there’s a roughness with some of the boys his age that, well, quite frankly, I want to separate him from.  

A few months back we were at a playdate with the child Henry considers to be his best friend.  Henry hugged his friend and said, “Hey, I love you!  You’re my best friend.”  His friend pushed him away, told him that boys weren’t supposed to hug or say I love you.  Henry cried and we still sometimes have to talk about the situation.  I reassured Henry that his friend was wrong.  That if you love someone, you tell them.  But that if someone asks you not to hug them, you have to respect that.

At the end of the day, we are holding Henry back because it is what is right for our family.  Next year is going to be a big year for us.  Gracie will go to preschool for the first time.  She will be in school on Tuesday and Thursday mornings.  Henry will go to a long day PreK (9:20-1:50) Monday-Thursday.  I will have 6 hours of uninterrupted time with no children!!!!!  (Sloan asked me what I was going to do with my time.  I promised him that at least once I would be purchasing some bon-bons and watching stories on TV.)  

And sometime, Lord willing, Sloan and I will be travelling to China to bring back our youngest child, Charlie.  Henry and Gracie will be staying with my sister and this way she doesn’t have to worry about getting Henry to school everyday.  And once we return with Charlie, it will be nice to have some time where Henry is home with us during the day.   He is going to have a new little brother that needs his sweet gentle spirit to teach him what being in a family is all about.

Monday, April 16, 2012

A Real {holy} conversation


I debated about posting this.

It is simultaneously a private matter and something I want to shout from the rooftops.  But I am posting this not for you dear reader, but for my son.  I want to give permanency and weight to the conversation that happened while kneeling next to his sister’s bed.  Because in addition to this blog being a place for me to write, vent, and just be, it is also the closest thing to a baby book that my kids are going to get.  (Much to the dismay of my mother.)  

So readers, my prayer is that this installment of a real conversation blesses you.  I pray you stand alongside me and marvel at God’s work in my family.

****
We were reading our bible story, as we do every night.  The story was Jesus’ ascension.  We’ve read it countless times.  Henry’s bible—Sally Lloyd-Jones’ the Jesus Storybook Bible—poses the question at the end of the story—“‘How can Jesus be with us and leave at the same time?’ they (the disciples) wondered.”    

The story ended and we were about to move on to Curious George and the Puppies when Henry asked, “Mom, how CAN Jesus be with us when he is also in heaven?”  

“Well,” I said, trying to reach back into my semesters of Systematic Theology and distill them into something for an almost 5 year old, “it is true that Jesus is alive in Heaven seated at the right hand of the Father.  But it is also true that Jesus is here with us as well because of the Holy Spirit.”  As I type this, I humbly confess that what I said was true and correct but also that it doesn’t really clarify the issue.  To be clear, I’m not quite certain of all the logistics.  Thankfully, Henry helped me.

“Are you talking about how Jesus lives in your heart and in heaven?”

“Yes!  That is exactly what I meant to say.  Jesus lives in heaven and in my heart.”  

He placed his small hand awkwardly on my chest and then leaned his head in whispering, “Jesus, Jesus.”   He sat up.  “Is Jesus in my heart?”

I cleared my throat.  “Well, have you asked him to be?  Jesus knocks and knocks on the door of everyone’s heart, but he isn’t rude.  So he only barges in if he is invited.”  

“Oh.”  He cocked his head to the side and bit his lip.  “I don’t think I’ve asked him into my heart.  How do you do that?”

Tears welled up my eyes.  “Well, you pray.  You say something like, “Hey Jesus!  I know that my heart is broken and I can’t fix it.  I sin and need you to rescue me.  Will you come live in my heart?” 
He sat upright.  He was very serious.  Or as serious as you can be when it is April and you are in your Christmas pajamas and your little sister is telling Jesus themed knock-knock jokes as she hurls herself off her rocking chair over and over again because Mommy is otherwise engaged.

“Ok,” he said, “I want to pray just what you said.  But we should kneel and say Dear Jesus and not Hey Jesus.”

“Okay, you pray to Jesus however you want.  He loves to hear your voice.”  So I knelt next to my son and listened to him pray the sweetest prayer.  The prayer his Daddy and I have been praying to hear for over 5 years.  

“Dear Jesus, I need you.  Sometimes I sin and am selfish and don’t obey Mommy and Daddy.  Will you come live in my heart and save me?  Amen.”  

Then he looked at me, BEAMING, and said, “Give me a high five, Mommy.  Jesus is in my heart!”

High fives, indeed, my son who is now my brother.  High fives, indeed.