6th Day of Thanksgiving: Two Years with Squiggle

My little Squiggle Man is two years old today!  He doubled my joy on that Tuesday before Thanksgiving in 2006, a joy that continues to grow every day.  His birth made one of my most memorable Thanksgiving holidays.  When I went to the doctor on the Friday before, he decided that we would induce labor on Tuesday, November 21.  We had already determined that Squiggle would be the namesake of both of my grandfathers.  It wasn’t until I got home from the doctor’s office that the date sunk in.  He would be born on November 21, my Grandaddy’s birthday.  We knew, then, his name was well-chosen.  By 10am, I had him in my arms.  After two nights in the hospital, we brought him home–on Thanksgiving Day.

I remember that day as one of the most peaceful and joyful holidays I’ve experienced.  It was sunny and crisp, but not too cold.  A beautiful Autumn day.  We hardly knew it was a holiday, but we had much to be thankful for.  I was so glad to see and touch him on the outside and to be relieved from the pressure of having his 8 lbs 15 oz taking over my belly.  We got home just after lunch with big brother Little Drummer Boy all dressed up and proud of his new playmate.  I remember just wanting to soak them both up.  My nights at Oktibbeha County Hospital with Hub bunking in had been the only nights we’d spent away from Drummer Boy since he was born.  I was so happy to have them both home in our house–safe, healthy and in hugging distance.

It took us until the early afternoon to get home, get settled in and realize we were hungry.  Starkville is a university town, and the Saturday after Thanksgiving every other year brings in fans for the State/Ole Miss football game.  We’d never been in town for Thanksgiving, but we hoped the extra visitors for the upcoming game meant the standard take-out options would be open despite the holiday.  We called around and found out Ruby Tuesdays was one of the few restaurants available and placed our order.  There, around the table with a high-chair and a basinette, we enjoyed Thanksgiving lunch from black styrofoam take-out boxes–loaded fries, the sustenance of gratitude.

We had our traditional Thanksgiving meal on Saturday with a few sleepless newborn nights under our belt.  We cooked it and ate it at my house.  Although we spread the table with the same dishes cooked from the same recipes, it was another first.  Every year before and since, the menu has been reserved for Grandmother’s house, MeMa’s house or Mama’s house.  Still, it was a precious change filled with the comfort and joy of being in the first place your children belong.

The blessing of getting to know Squiggle is just two years in the making now.  We are basking in joy that pops in and out, sitting just beneath the surface of the frustration inherent in parenting a toddler through those first tough lessons.  As with Little Drummer Boy (and I’m sure Baby Girl to follow), we are sometimes heavy with the realization that so much of who he is becoming is who we are, and who we are training him to be.

Squiggle is intensly resolved.  Some might call it strong-willed, that character trait we so often admire in adults, but chide in toddlers.  Even in the womb he was resolved.  He would straighten both his legs out to push against the constraints–one foot on each side under my ribs.  It took more than a few pokes and pushing back on his heels to get him to move, releasing my lungs to take a deep breath.  He came out of the womb determined to make his own way.  Even as an infant, he would never simply rest his head on my shoulder like his brother did.  He would always push back to take in his surroundings.  Only now does his loving spirit sometimes give in and allow me that fleeting luxury at bedtime.  Squiggle is passionate about everything.  He does everything and feels everything at 110%, fully giving himself to it.  He is the most fun-loving of my children, the most willing to test his wings with abandon.  This trait has prompted more than one person to tell me, “he will be the one to watch.”  He learned to smile very quickly, and practices often, along with his trademark squeal-fueled giggle and the universal animal roar he has made his own.  His eyes often reveal the twinkle of joyful mischief within, and he is the one most likely to fling himself into your arms–for two seconds before moving on to the next passion.

I love this picture from our first photo shoot.  He’s wearing the same white outfit each of my children have worn home from the hospital, and a baby blue sweater–the perks of being born in November.  I see an earnest expression, brow almost furrowed in thought. I still see that today sometimes when he is trying to make sense of his little world–resolving his passion for whatever is before him with the joy of life his heart seems to exude.  He will be a spectacular man.

God, please help us to get him there with his vibrant spirit unfettered.

Gift Tag: The Hug Store

Little Drummer Boy (my 3 1/2 year old) and I have a little game that goes something like this…

Mommy:  Do you have a hug for me today?
LDB: No. (said with a giggle)
Mommy: Oh no!  I need a hug.  Don’t you have one for me?
LDB:  No. (more giggling)
Mommy:  Do you have one in your pocket?
LDB:  (extended pause)  Ummm. Yes.
And, he pulls an imaginary hug out of his pocket and gives it to me.  Nice.

Sometimes…

Mommy: Are you sure you don’t have a hug for me?  I really need a hug this morning.
LDB: But, I have one at school.
Mommy:  You have it at school?
LDB:  Yes. (said with a giggle)
Mommy:  Are you going to bring it home for me?
LDB: Yes.
Mommy:  I wish I had a hug right now.
LDB: But, I don’t have any more hugs.
He usually relents and somehow finds one before he heads out the door.

There are a hundred variations.  Sometimes the game translates to a request for his “special” kisses–the ones that aren’t just a peck, but all slobber and giggles.  My usual response is “Oooh, I’m going to keep that all day long.”  It’s the dance we do.  And, I’m a willing participant.  I relish the process because I know one day (way before I’m ready) I’ll have to do a lot more begging that that to get a hug from my big man.  One day he’ll be the one leaning down for the hug instead of me.

One morning this week, the game took a slightly different turn…

Mommy:  You’re out of hugs?  But, I really wanted a hug.  Can you get another one?
LDB:  Yes, I can get one.  From The Hug Store.
Where does he get this stuff?  Laughter ensued from Mommy and Daddy, which made Little Drummer Boy giggle, too.  And, of course, I gave him a shake-down to find the one last hug hidden deep inside after all.

The Hug Store.  Talk about your retail therapy.
Who am I kidding?  What he’s offering, money can’t buy!

Gift Tags are the tiny messages God continues to include with our gifts — 2 little joys of boys and 1 little jewel of a girl, each with open eyes, open ears, open hearts, and much to teach. “Behold children are a gift of the Lord…” (psalm 127:1)

Gift Tag: Mommy’s Lap

My little Drummer Boy did not get a nap today.  It was day 7 in one of those weeks.  There has been a lot of excitement around our house.  Last Monday I went for my weekly doctor visit to check on Miss Baby M, and he decided it would be time to induce us at 38 weeks.  That means that when I go to the doctor tomorrow, we’ll find out what day THIS week our baby “seester” will make her arrival.

We’ve been scrambling around, getting all manner of pink baby items, and putting the semi-finishing touches on the nursery.  Mommy’s been working from home instead of going to the office, and getting more uncomfortable by the minute.  Daddy’s been taking over a few more parts of the daily routine than he had already taken over.  Little Drummer Boy and Baby Squiqqle Man have been slam dancing between spontaneous tears, random throwing of toys, mini tantrums and the sweetest blown kisses, slobbered kisses and hugs they’ve been holding in their pockets all day you’ve ever seen.  We know that confusion and insecurity are running rampant.  We know that even though Little Drummer Boy has an amazing vocabulary for which we can take no credit and Squiggle Man knows way more words than we give him credit for, they can rarely articulate what is really going on inside.  We’ve been watching, asking questions, guessing, soul-searching, and giving it a try for quite a few months now–go back to watching and repeat ad infinitum.  Change is hard, no matter how many years you have under your belt.

My Little Drummer Boy has had an extra dose of change lately.  Two weeks ago, he moved up to a new preschool class–new teachers, new schedules, still not wanting to put his tee tee in the potty, but everybody talking about it.  One week ago, he started his first “extra-curricular” activity–an AWANA “Cubbies” club where he’s meeting new friends, more new teachers, and learning Bible verses (doing a great job, I might add!)  Plus, he actually knows what it means to anticipate being a new big brother.  He’s already done it once.

So, he didn’t get a nap today.  That means he was practically falling asleep at dinner, and I was putting him in bed early.  We read our books, found our blanket and puppy, turned on the music and listened to Mommy sing.  I thought he would fall asleep while I rubbed his back, but then it began:

Drummer: “Mommy…”

Me: “Mmmm Hmmm?”

Drummer: “I want to sit in your lap.”

Ok, I’m paying attention now.  Requesting to sit in my lap is uncommon these days now that he’s such a BIG 3-year-old– usually reserved for “bo bo” comfort or coersion (read bribery) from Mommy.  I knew this did not bode well for a speedy bedtime, but it was a treat I couldn’t pass up.

He climbed over in my lap, which Miss Baby M has shrunk considerably at this point.  Aside from some of my mandatory hugs, he didn’t cuddle or put his head on my shoulder.  He was content just to sit.  Then, he looked at me and smiled–a couple of times.

Me: “Why are you smiling?”

Drummer: “I’m happy.”

Me: “Why are you happy?”

Drummer: “I’m happy for you, Mommy.”

Me: “Why are you happy for me?”

Drummer: “I’m sitting in your lap.”

It was a crystal clear moment.  I saw deep into his heart, and was dumbfounded by how little it took to get there.  I knew he meant he was happy ABOUT being in my lap.  It was instantaneous security, peace, clarification, and love for him.  I told him how proud I was of him, how thankful we were on the day he was born, what a good big brother he was, and how much bigger Mommy’s lap would be in just a few more days.  And, just as quickly, the moment was gone. My Little Drummer Boy “wasn’t tired” anymore, and we would live to convince him otherwise in another hour or so.

“Teach us to number our days, that we may present to Thee a heart of wisdom.” (psalm 90:12)

Yes, it was a crystal clear moment.  One that underscored a realization that there is no better barometer of wise priorities than to center ourselves in this moment in this place to do what counts most–even if it’s just postponing bedtime for a little laptime.  Although, my Little Drummer Boy misused his preposition, I was actually happy FOR me.  It was instantaneous peace, clarification and love.  I saw deep into my own heart, and was dumbfounded again by the recognition that the best of my whole world can be found in the space of just a few rooms.

Gift Tags are the tiny messages God continues to include with our gifts — 2 little boys and the anticipation of 1 little girl, each with open eyes, open ears, open hearts, and much to teach. “Behold children are a gift of the Lord…” (psalm 127:1)

Gift Tag: Lessons in Recklessness

I was sitting on the floor of the living room–not necessarily an easy task at the moment with a 7-months pregnant belly out to there–and 18 months of pure squiggle (a squeal-fueled giggle) energy were coming at me full steam.

Running at maximum toddler capacity, my little guy flung himself into my arms with a resounding super squeal.  I gave him a little squeeze, a big “I love you,” and a few cheek nibbles as the various oversized wooden screws in his hands made contact with eyeglasses, ears, nose, etc.  Then, it was full steam back to the wall at the other side of the room to start again.

We repeated the process more times than I can count, with my little guy alternating between Mommy and a left detour to give Daddy a turn.

Full steam.  Turbo drive.  Volume 10.
That’s how my little 18-month-old gift does everything.  He’s on a personal mission to prove that no matter what you do, you can have more fun and be more successful at it if you are also squiggling at the top of your lungs!

Despite the household craziness his approach sometimes creates, I often find myself just soaking it up.  He’s reckless, giving himself completely over to whatever he’s feeling at the moment–whether it’s the trying times of hurt feelings, frustration that a toy won’t work right and disappointment at hearing “no” or the joyful times of shouting newly-learned words, a full speed, fully squiggled chase with brother and the ever-popular hug episodes described above.  There’s no doubt that whatever it is, he’s completely abandoned himself to it.

It want to cultivate that caliber of freedom, to act without hesitation when I feel strongly about something.  Or, to elevate the mundane to that level of love, joy and excitement.  I can imagine it most powerfully chrystalized in that moment of an 18-month-old flinging himself into Mommy’s arms.  No reservations.  No holding back.  No fear.  Just pure joy and pure love.

It reminds me of another love:
“In Him we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of our sin, according to the riches of His grace which He lavished on us.” (Ephesians 1:7-8)

Can I be the one to fling myself without fear into the Father’s arms and bathe in His lavish love and grace?

Can I open up my arms and receive the one in need, ready to give His lavish love and grace in human form?

I hope so.

Gift Tags are the tiny messages God continues to include with our gifts — 2 little boys and the anticipation of 1 little girl, each with open eyes, open ears, open hearts, and much to teach. “Behold children are a gift of the Lord…” (psalm 127:1)

Gift Tag: Yes I Am

“Yes, I am.”

It was a statement that brought a cackle from both my husband and me at the dinner table.  In the course of conversation, our 3-year-old had done something that prompted me to say, “You are SO smart.”  Then, in agreement… “Yes, I am.”

Of course, anything that produces a laugh from Mommy and Daddy must be repeated.  So, a moment later I got the request, “Say I’m so smart again.”  With my cheerful compliance came another “Yes, I am,” this time accompanied by much giggling from everyone.

One thing I’ve learned about 3-year-old speech is that it matches up very closely with the heart.  Three-year-olds haven’t yet learned to choose their words carefully, to monitor their phrases to fit the circumstance, to “spin” their opinion based on the situation, or to distance the spoken word from their true thoughts and feelings.  When I listen to my 3-year-old, I know that I’m getting exactly what he’s thinking, what is most important to him at a given moment.

I’ve also learned that whatever I say in my 3-year-old’s hearing — just in the course of conversation or in specific attempts to teach him — will probably eventually come right back at me.  And, in true 3-year-old fashion, I know that I’m getting back an honest picture of how he’s interpreted my words.

That’s why I enjoyed hearing the “yes, I am” — twice.  There was no overblown pride with the statement, no bravado.  It came out as just a statement of fact.  It told me that he believed he was smart.  And, it reminded me just how important kind and positive praise can be for my children, how powerful it can be in giving confidence and setting right the assumptions they learn about themselves.

He had been told he was smart, and he believed it.
A precious understanding for a 3-year-old heart.

“Like apples of gold in settings of silver is a word spoken in right circumstances.” (proverbs 25:11)

Our world sometimes offers an overwhelmingly out-of-balance negative message — one that strips and diminishes.  Even in our home, it is so easy for praise to be out-weighed by the speech of stress, worry, exhaustion, busy-ness, annoyance, or correction.

“Yes, I am.”
A powerful reminder that it costs me nothing to say it more.

You are smart.
You are precious.
You are sweet.
You are strong.
You can jump high.
You can run fast.
You are growing.
You are kind.
You can share.
You did a good job.
I’m glad I have you.
I love you.

Gift Tags are the tiny messages God continues to include with our gifts — 2 little boys and the anticipation of 1 little girl, each with open eyes, open ears, open hearts, and much to teach. “Behold children are a gift of the Lord…” (psalm 127:1)