Emerson*4

The sound of Lego being moved around on the table in the ever-ongoing hunt for just the right piece is my lullaby.  Feelings of maybe-I-shoud-start-thinking-about-supper almost bring me back to consciousness, but a long day and just the right amount of sunshine make me burrow deeper into my corner of the couch and what just might be my moment to drift off.  The rare and treasured times when all three kids are playing flawlessly together make my heart swell, even as my eyelids are too heavy to open and take it all in.

Still on duty, even as I doze, I slowly come to with the soft words of the littlest one bubbling to the surface.  Groggy, I don't react instantaneously and Emerson steps in.  "Lachie, Mommy is asleep.  You have to pee otet?"  [Otet = toilet in his little brother's 2-year-old speak]  Emerson's voice takes on the exaggerated gentle cadence of an older one knowing that he is helping a little one and I breathe deeply, halfway between sleep and rapt attention on the scene I am picturing through still-closed eyelids.

"Come with me, Lachie," he urges and takes his brother's hand, leading him from his Lego rocketship creation towards the bathroom.  "Come pee otet."

The footsteps have gotten quieter now that they have reached the carpet in the hallway, but I hear that stool move across the bathroom floor.  Narrating as he goes, Emerson informs his brother of each step of the process, inadvertently warming my drowsy and delighted soul.  Using Lachlan's language, he helps him take his pants and "unders" [underwear] off and boosts him up to the toilet.  Ever so kindly he tells him good job when he pees and encourages him to get off the otet by himself.

By now Lachlan is giggling that his brother is doing this all with him and is happy to oblige as they work together to get the unders and pants back on - pausing in between as Emerson asks once the underwear is up: "Does your penis hurt?  No?  Okay, then it's on right."  That one is almost too much for me to continue the charade of sleep, as I make mental notes of the checklist Emerson presumably uses for himself as well.

A moment later they are back to join Niko at the Lego table beside me and the creative building continues.  Only now I am too giddy to go back to sleep.

Here are some pictures of this newly 4-year-old boy whose goofiness, gentleness, independence, and empathy we cherish in equal measure: https://www.flickr.com/photos/41705228@N08/albums/72157657488999075

Lion (Psalm 29:4 and 34:11)

After we passed camels came their moment of choice.  Both kids had been adamant that they did not want to see the lions or tigers, but in that moment there was still hesitation.  Allure was almost enough to overcome fear, so we cautiously walked just enough around the corner to see them from a safe distance and then quickly retreated to follow the other path around - past wild horses, sea eagles and to mountain goats.  And that's when we heard him.  At first, it was almost like rumbling of a stomach, and I thought they might not even notice.  But seconds later it picked up volume and intensity a bit.  Lion was roaring.  I could just make out the outline of his body through chain-link of multiple enclosures between us.  He was horizontal on his perch, one paw elevating his head and chest a little.  Relaxed, in disposition.  This was probably his inside-voice.  Even as I steadied them with my arm around their shoulders, kids' nervousness was catching as I found my pulse speeding up.  Mesmerized by powerful voice, my heart knew allure and fear in equal proportion.

Captivate me, Lion of Judah.  

Tough

This is tough.  But you are tougher than you know.  Dutifully, you carry your day's load of books - mostly Franklin and Berenstain Bears.  You whisper that you will tell the nurse which story is your favourite - even as you are shy to even think about speaking to a nurse.  You ask if it's still snowing outside and wonder wehether we will get the room beside the Christmas tree.  You don't want to be here any more than I do, yet you excitedly check around the corner from triage to see what show is on in the waiting room.  Toopy & Binoo get your cheer of approval.  You blast right through the intake process of thermometers, blood pressure cuffs, and the finger clip with the red glow.  As a nurse prints your bracelet you call out to her that you got a bracelet at Tinkertown too.  With every new doctor or nurse that enters the room, you avert your eyes, wisely not trusting these people with sharp objects.  But slowly, each of them gets you to open up a little bit more, some of them even earning a sly smile or goofy grin.  A few hours later we pack up to go, your body filled with the medicine it needs to fight this bugger, your bag filled with as many stickers as you had needle-pricks, your mind filled with thoughts of the Franklin book that the last doctor suggested, and your heart filled with the pride and confidence that only come by overcoming.  You are tougher than you know.

A Very Little Big Brother

The day that L was born, E bounced into the hospital room positively gleeful.  His grin was widespread and genuine.  He was only 21 months old, but he knew the joy of becoming a big brother and immediately climbed onto the bed with me to see his brother's face.  He asked to hold him right away and his whole boy emanated pride as he clutched the swaddled bundle of newborn.

The next major adjustment between the two boys came when Lachlan started crawling.  Slowly things started to change.  E still loved to make L giggle hysterically.  He still choose to play with his baby brother.  He still went over to him to give him hugs throughout the day.  But he also got angry when L came after his toys.  He seemed to sense the competition, now that L wasn't 'just' a stationary blob.  Tension started to build at times.

Things seem to have ramped up another notch in the last few weeks.  L has become very vocal, opinionated, and fast.  He doesn't want to be left behind.  He follows the older boys incessantly, finding them wherever they go in the house.  He deliberately grabs toys and repeatedly gets in the way.  And all of a sudden, E has to be the big brother.  He has to use words, not hands or feet.  He has to be the one to stay calm and walk away.  He has to find a solution.

He has to be the bigger brother.  And it is so so hard for the little guy.

Lord, give me the grace and compassion to remember that he is still a very little big brother.

His Song

You picked his song.  Your brother was gone for the night - the first night you've spent alone in your bunkbed - and you chose to sing his song at bedtime.

The sweetness is almost too much.

Treasuring up in my heart, I am.

Default Settings

You are always telling me that someone is funny.

Moni plays peek-a-boo with you over the bookshelf and you come running back to me to report that "she is funny."  A lady on the bus asks you were you are going and you smile goofily, declaring that "she is funny."  Mr. Alan asks to ride on your tricycle and you giggle out the words "Mommy, he is funny."

Don't you see, Kai-Bear.  It's you.  Everyone you meet seems funny to you, because you are extraordinarily hilarious.  It's infectious and reflective.  Your natural tendencies toward funniness bring out the sillies in everyone else.  It's my favourite thing about you.  It doesn't matter where or when or with who or what else is going on.  You have the divine gift to pull goofy out of your pocket and toss it in the air like confetti.

We all know it.  Niko often mentions that you are the funniest.  (As a sidenote, he labels himself the strongest/fastest and Lachlan the cutest.)

Funny is not only what you do best, but it's the lens through which you see everybody you meet.  It's your default setting.

It makes me wonder what my default is, because it may also reflect what is most prominent about my own personality.  If the vast majority of people I meet are pessimistic, maybe negativity is the lens I'm looking through.  If they exude apathy, maybe disinterest is my default setting.  If they complain, perhaps I have my dial set to grumble.

Let the little children come to me...because the kingdom of heaven belongs to people like these.
Matthew 19:14

Sweet Voices

The two of you chatting in your room is the most perfect way to drink in a new morning.  A slow start as you read some books, your sweet voices greeting each other with little-boy-conversation.  No baggage from yesterday's fights.  No expectations or preconceptions.

E, can you and me read this?  What colour shirt do you want to wear today?  You should wear that hat backwards.  What are we going to do today?  Can you do it with me?

I am so thankful that you have each other.  I hope your differences in personality, skills, attitudes, gifts, hobbies, interests, choices, jobs, friends, girlfriends, careers, wives, and everything else don't get in the way of this.  Two brothers hanging out together, taking an interest in one another.

May you always be free to chat without inhibitions, preconceptions, and baggage.  May you be simply present to each other.

Evening Cuddle

Snuggled under the airplane quilt that his Grandma made him and clutching his ratty-looking stuffed monkey, he drapes his arm lazily but deliberately around my neck.  My face pressed against his, I feel him blink.  I taste one of his salty tears, a remnant from the daily hurdle of getting into bed.  His voice meshes with mine as we sing together, words he does not yet understand.  "Hallelujah, grace like rain falls down on me.  Hallelujah, all my stains are washed away."  Every night he picks the same song.  The truths are so profound I can only hope they will filter down into his heart to be understood years from now.  I feel his jaw moving in time with mine as we sing, his raspy voice praising his Creator, his breath tickling my ear in this moment that is never wasted.

Mind the Gap

The thing with having multiple children in a family is that they are different.  No really, eh?  But that has a substantial impact on how I deal with them.  Sometimes a good impact, sometimes a bad impact.  Mostly I just feel like I need to be aware of the differences between them and how that affects my attitude toward them and my relationship with them.

I noticed this over the last few days with Bethany and Hunter.  Both awesome kids, both created in the image of God, both loved and valued for who they are.  And very different from each other.  As the "parent", it was really obvious that a major difference is in their response to being asked to do things.

When I asked Bethany if she wanted to do some of her homework, she took my asking as a suggestion and pleasantly agreed that she would do a journal entry as soon as she finished making a bracelet.  Ten minutes later, with no further prompting, she was sitting at the table working away.

When I asked Hunter if he could please get dressed, he appeared not to hear me.  He didn't make eye contact or respond in any way.  When I asked him to slow down and look at me, he still didn't respond to my question.  When I sent him downstairs to choose a shirt and pants, he took off running only to get caught up in play in the basement.  He wasn't really deliberately rude, just completely preoccupied with his own agenda and conveniently oblivious to mine.  He never did get dressed until I threw his clothes into the bathroom, took his hand and guided him in there, and closed the door.

So I imagine that parenting two kids whose responses and response time are so vastly different can be hard.  They are not just different, clearly one behavior is more desirable as the parent.  It would be difficult, but important, to not let the fact that you've got one really low-maintenance kid affect how you deal with the higher maintenance one.  A bit idealistic, but necessary, I think.  Expectations should be present, but living up to his sister in that area should not be the goal.  And he's also got to know that there are things he's awesome at; that he's not a disappointment in any way.

Looking at my own kids, their listening skills are about at the same level.  But it's very obvious that Emerson is naturally funnier than Niko.  He is just silly and goofy in so many ways.  He hilarious without even trying.  Adults get such a kick out of him - the entertainer.

Yet when Niko does some of the exact same things, he's seen as obnoxious or annoying and sometimes we even scold him.  Because he's older.  Because he's louder.  Because he's bigger.  Because he's wilder.  But the becauses don't really matter.  We need to be aware of the area in which one is strong and one is weaker and have reasonable, attainable expectations.  And he's also got to know that there are things he's awesome at; that he's not a disappointment in any way.

Niko needs to know that I love him for exactly who he is, enjoy watching him use his strengths, am proud of
him for working to learn and grow, and will always be willing to help him with his weaknesses.

Emerson needs to know that I love him for exactly who he is, enjoy watching him use his strengths, am proud of him for working to learn and grow, and will always be willing to help him with his weaknesses.

Lachlan needs to know that I love him for exactly who he is, enjoy watching him use his strengths, am proud of him for working to learn and grow, and will always be willing to help him with his weaknesses.

To the Fullest

At the lunch table, Niko noticed that Emerson had a huge chunk of jam-covered bread stuck to the bottom of his nose.  He pointed it out to me, began giggling, and then burst into uproariously laughter.  Emerson looked at Niko, touched his own nose, paused for a second, and joined him in third degree guffawing.

And I thought to myself, I wish I could take myself less seriously.  I'm thankful that my life is full of these little people.  Little people who lose themselves completely in the moment.  Emerson is so good at doing everything with all of his being.  He always has been.  He is not shy or self-conscious - unless it is part of a goofy act to get some laughs.  He's passionate.  Focused.  Reckless.  He throws himself all in to every moment.  

While I thrive and even pride myself on multi-tasking, I also envy the ability to dive headlong into one thing, one moment, and live it and only it to the fullest.  

Emerson makes me think of John 10:10.

I came that you might have life - life in all its fullness.

Seems like that might be a good life verse for him.

Gifts

This vacation has been so wonderful.  We've been struggling so much with Niko lately, that it's been great to have this time to enjoy him.  Of course we didn't leave all the behavior issues at home, but we've also seen so much awesome in him!

One thing that has been quite amazing is how many times Emerson and Niko have turned to us and thanked us for something about the trip.  Unprompted and heartfelt thank-you's.  They have really enjoyed themselves.  We've heard "I don't ever never want to leave this place" a lot in the past few days.  Watching them take in each new surrounding and just light up has refreshed my heart.

The boys' goofiness has also made us laugh a lot.  My favourite lines of the trip:
Niko - "Excuse me Mom, when can we goof off?"
Emerson to the border guard - "We're going to Minneapowis....<pause>...He's not yistening to me."

It's also been increasingly obvious that we are so blessed by Lachlan.  He's so peaceful and happy to just be along for the ride.  He sleeps on command, eats whatever we put in front of him, endures fairly well in his carseat, and tolerates so many love-tackles in from his brothers.  What a great third kid!  I feel like he couldn't fit into our family life better.

And Bernie.  The more time I spend with him, the more I am reminded of what great friends we are.  I just love hanging out with him.  Holding hands and walking through the mall.  Discovering our kids as they discover together.  Watching "Lost" in the hotel hallway.  Driving miles and miles of highway.  He is my match in so many ways.

Thanks be to God for his indescribable gift.  2 Corinthians 9:15