Thanks for the tents!
Sunday, August 30, 2009
For Grammy
This is what the boys have been up to lately. Here, Cory is pretending to take a nap and Iain is singing "At the Cross" to him. :)
Thanks for the tents!
Thanks for the tents!
Monday, August 24, 2009
Home Study, Part One
We had our first adoption home study meeting today, and despite my extreme case of butterflies in the stomach, it went well. We have two more meetings with our social worker, and a lot of paperwork to do in between. The biggest thing is the Personal Profile: 16 pages of questions about your personality, strengths and weaknesses, childhood, marriage, finances, parenting, etc. It's a lot. She told us it would take a few weeks; however, we are very motivated to get this stuff done! Give us a week, I say. :)
We also have to work on fingerprints, background checks, and - the most time-consuming one, potentially - background checks from Child Protective Services for all counties we've lived in since age 18. That will be two FL and two GA for me, and FOUR FL and two GA for Jeremy. So while on our end, the process is short, apparently this step is notorious for taking forever. We're praying for speed and favor!
And the to-do list goes on and on and on.
BUT. In the meantime, we daydream about our daughter and talk about names, and can't wait to meet her! I found the blog of a family adopting from Rwanda - they're about to go get their two adorable daughters (ages 2 and 15 months). Oh to be in their shoes! It's kind of like holding a newborn when you're in the middle of morning sickness: seeing those pictures reminds me that there is an end to the process and it is a new baby in our arms!
* * *
While Jeremy is working hard to pay the bills and I am painting and paper-working like there's no tomorrow, here is how the boys like to spend their time:
Cory balances bottles of "dip."
Iain hangs out in the entryway, watching me paint high above.
We also have to work on fingerprints, background checks, and - the most time-consuming one, potentially - background checks from Child Protective Services for all counties we've lived in since age 18. That will be two FL and two GA for me, and FOUR FL and two GA for Jeremy. So while on our end, the process is short, apparently this step is notorious for taking forever. We're praying for speed and favor!
And the to-do list goes on and on and on.
BUT. In the meantime, we daydream about our daughter and talk about names, and can't wait to meet her! I found the blog of a family adopting from Rwanda - they're about to go get their two adorable daughters (ages 2 and 15 months). Oh to be in their shoes! It's kind of like holding a newborn when you're in the middle of morning sickness: seeing those pictures reminds me that there is an end to the process and it is a new baby in our arms!
* * *
While Jeremy is working hard to pay the bills and I am painting and paper-working like there's no tomorrow, here is how the boys like to spend their time:
Cory balances bottles of "dip."
Iain hangs out in the entryway, watching me paint high above.
Monday, August 17, 2009
Video Upload
I have this really cute video of Cory I want to upload, but I haven't been able to get it to work - with Blogger or YouTube. It just loads endlessly. Any ideas? It's not that long; it shouldn't take all day.
Saturday, August 08, 2009
Sacred Dreams?
I watched a short You Tube video yesterday morning, and it got me thinking. (Warning: I'm about to get on my soapbox and the air is a little thin up here!) The video, which you can see here, is about a family who moved 13 years ago to The Middle of Nowhere, New Zealand, to live in the bush. Although the clip is supposed to be telling you about their lives and their choices, it is oh so clear that the thinly-veiled agenda is to put these unusual people on exhibit for the shock value and "foolishness" of their lifestyle, and to cause the viewers to be appalled that they would force this life on their two kids.
Now, the kids like their life. They make that clear repeatedly. And they do have plans to try living "in villages." But for now, they're content. And they are still kids: ages 16 and 13. Really, should we be encouraging them to leave home and strike out for town just yet? The parents seem to have no problems with the idea that the kids will eventually leave, if they eventually leave.
I'm not going to get into the rightness or wrongness of their decision to live in the bush. What I want to harp on - ahem, write about - is one thing the journalist kept coming back to again and again: the son, age 16, used to want to be a sports player.
See, he used to want to play rugby. But he was obviously never on a team (being that he lived in the bush and all). He said it was impractical. And now he doesn't want to play rugby. He's into trout fishing and possum trapping. Move on. But the journalist can't seem to get over the fact that he can't do the thing he originally wanted to do. That WAS his dream, and dreams, after all, are sacred, right?
Lots of kids want to be sports players when they grow up. Only a few do it professionally. Does that mean that somehow the parents of the kids who don't make it stunted their growth? Didn't encourage them enough? Didn't make their dreams come true? Or could it be that maybe most of the kids are just not talented enough at playing sports to go pro?
GASP! My little Bobby isn't good enough? He can be whatever he wants to be!
Well, no. Not really.
When I was a kid, during the summer Olympics, I decided I wanted to be a gymnast. It was the year that the women's team won the gold, with the one girl landing her vault on a broken ankle. I mean really, how cool is that? But I was in gymnastics when I was little, and I pretty much stunk at it. I was too tall and uncoordinated and unwilling to hurt myself by flinging myself willy-nilly all over that very narrow balance beam. I could do a passable back handspring, and to me, that was acheivement enough.
May I postulate that telling kids that they can do anything and be anything is wrong on a few counts?
1. It wastes their precious time. Why should they believe that if they put in hours and hours of work, it will eventually pay off, when in reality it may not? Note that I am NOT talking about doing something for an alternative reason: to be active and healthy, to establish teamwork skills, for sheer enjoyment. But to do something because you believe it will make you an expert at it when in reality you have no talent for it at all? Waste of time.
2. It degrades the talents they have. By elevating talents they don't have, you're not helping them cultivate the gifts God has given them, gifts which may in fact bring them greater fulfillment because they are ways the child is meant to use his time and energy.
3. It puts too much pressure on the child to succeed.
4. It teaches that to do something simply because you enjoy it, and not to be the best, is somehow not good enough reason. If I love to play piano, I should play piano and worship the Lord through my enjoyment of music, which He made, after all. I should not feel that because I am not the best, or even an excellent piano player, I shouldn't take the time to play.
Of course, this is not to say that striving for excellence is not a worthy pursuit. But telling a child that they can be the best when they simply can't is cruel.
5. Maybe it gives kids too many options. How often do you hear from high schoolers that they just don't know what to do with their lives? Could this be because no one ever helped them discover what they are good at. It's harder to decide what you want to do if it's based purely on what you like to do. But it might be an easier decision if they have spent time in childhood and teenage-hood discovering their gifts, and seeing what they are passionate about AND good at.
Maybe the kid in the video clip would have been a top-notch rugby player. Who knows? But I guess my point is that not every dream will come true, nor should they all.
And also, just because little Bobby wants to do thing A doesn't mean he necessarily should. The dreams of an individual must at times take a backseat to something bigger. In America, we sometimes mistake the right to the pursuit of happiness with the right to happiness itself. So the right to pursue a dream? Sure. If Little Bobby is serious about wanting to play rugby, let him figure out a way to make it work. But the right to rugby lessons, just because he wants them? I don't think so.
Okay, enough nonsense. This post has been written over the span of several days, and I think I forgot what I had originally wanted to say. So don't shoot me. But do let me know what you think!
Because I don't remember what I think anymore. It's been a long week.
Now, the kids like their life. They make that clear repeatedly. And they do have plans to try living "in villages." But for now, they're content. And they are still kids: ages 16 and 13. Really, should we be encouraging them to leave home and strike out for town just yet? The parents seem to have no problems with the idea that the kids will eventually leave, if they eventually leave.
I'm not going to get into the rightness or wrongness of their decision to live in the bush. What I want to harp on - ahem, write about - is one thing the journalist kept coming back to again and again: the son, age 16, used to want to be a sports player.
See, he used to want to play rugby. But he was obviously never on a team (being that he lived in the bush and all). He said it was impractical. And now he doesn't want to play rugby. He's into trout fishing and possum trapping. Move on. But the journalist can't seem to get over the fact that he can't do the thing he originally wanted to do. That WAS his dream, and dreams, after all, are sacred, right?
Lots of kids want to be sports players when they grow up. Only a few do it professionally. Does that mean that somehow the parents of the kids who don't make it stunted their growth? Didn't encourage them enough? Didn't make their dreams come true? Or could it be that maybe most of the kids are just not talented enough at playing sports to go pro?
GASP! My little Bobby isn't good enough? He can be whatever he wants to be!
Well, no. Not really.
When I was a kid, during the summer Olympics, I decided I wanted to be a gymnast. It was the year that the women's team won the gold, with the one girl landing her vault on a broken ankle. I mean really, how cool is that? But I was in gymnastics when I was little, and I pretty much stunk at it. I was too tall and uncoordinated and unwilling to hurt myself by flinging myself willy-nilly all over that very narrow balance beam. I could do a passable back handspring, and to me, that was acheivement enough.
May I postulate that telling kids that they can do anything and be anything is wrong on a few counts?
1. It wastes their precious time. Why should they believe that if they put in hours and hours of work, it will eventually pay off, when in reality it may not? Note that I am NOT talking about doing something for an alternative reason: to be active and healthy, to establish teamwork skills, for sheer enjoyment. But to do something because you believe it will make you an expert at it when in reality you have no talent for it at all? Waste of time.
2. It degrades the talents they have. By elevating talents they don't have, you're not helping them cultivate the gifts God has given them, gifts which may in fact bring them greater fulfillment because they are ways the child is meant to use his time and energy.
3. It puts too much pressure on the child to succeed.
4. It teaches that to do something simply because you enjoy it, and not to be the best, is somehow not good enough reason. If I love to play piano, I should play piano and worship the Lord through my enjoyment of music, which He made, after all. I should not feel that because I am not the best, or even an excellent piano player, I shouldn't take the time to play.
Of course, this is not to say that striving for excellence is not a worthy pursuit. But telling a child that they can be the best when they simply can't is cruel.
5. Maybe it gives kids too many options. How often do you hear from high schoolers that they just don't know what to do with their lives? Could this be because no one ever helped them discover what they are good at. It's harder to decide what you want to do if it's based purely on what you like to do. But it might be an easier decision if they have spent time in childhood and teenage-hood discovering their gifts, and seeing what they are passionate about AND good at.
Maybe the kid in the video clip would have been a top-notch rugby player. Who knows? But I guess my point is that not every dream will come true, nor should they all.
And also, just because little Bobby wants to do thing A doesn't mean he necessarily should. The dreams of an individual must at times take a backseat to something bigger. In America, we sometimes mistake the right to the pursuit of happiness with the right to happiness itself. So the right to pursue a dream? Sure. If Little Bobby is serious about wanting to play rugby, let him figure out a way to make it work. But the right to rugby lessons, just because he wants them? I don't think so.
Okay, enough nonsense. This post has been written over the span of several days, and I think I forgot what I had originally wanted to say. So don't shoot me. But do let me know what you think!
Because I don't remember what I think anymore. It's been a long week.
Wednesday, August 05, 2009
Gifts - Haven't Done This in a While
96. For a good time in Florida and a safe trip home.
97. For the Rock House - it's a good place to be.
98. For my extended family.
99. Tonight when we got home, Iain put on my watch, sunglasses, and a policeman hat, and sat on Mug the Chicken (his rocking-chicken) with his guitar and sang a song he made up about everybody going into the house.
100. For Cory's deep-voiced laugh.
101. For my new nephew Isaiah!
102. That my boys have a new cousin:
103. For our daughter in Rwanda. Oh how I wonder who she is!
104. For the opportunity to make friends up here.
105. That I got to meet baby Jude! And that he's my birthday-mate.
106. For Phyllis introducing me to this 1000 Gift idea - it is cathartic and refocuses my perspective. I have a lot to be thankful for!
107. For the ability to write.
97. For the Rock House - it's a good place to be.
98. For my extended family.
99. Tonight when we got home, Iain put on my watch, sunglasses, and a policeman hat, and sat on Mug the Chicken (his rocking-chicken) with his guitar and sang a song he made up about everybody going into the house.
100. For Cory's deep-voiced laugh.
101. For my new nephew Isaiah!
102. That my boys have a new cousin:
103. For our daughter in Rwanda. Oh how I wonder who she is!
104. For the opportunity to make friends up here.
105. That I got to meet baby Jude! And that he's my birthday-mate.
106. For Phyllis introducing me to this 1000 Gift idea - it is cathartic and refocuses my perspective. I have a lot to be thankful for!
107. For the ability to write.
Monday, July 27, 2009
Florida
We've been down in FL for the past two weeks, waiting for my nephew to be born. No baby news yet - but we've been having all kinds of adventures while we wait. For example,
Driving down - sweet brothers! Cory says, "han, han" until Iain holds his hand.
What a face!
Tractor blankets from Mrs. G - the boys love them. Especially Cory!
The day after we got here, we went to the beach for a big Schweizer family reunion. The boys had a great time, and I ended up looking like a lobster (it's much easier to make sure your kids aren't getting burned than it is to make sure you're not). Here's Cory and Grace.
One afternoon, we walked to the 7-11 for Slurpees. Slurpees = good idea. Walking in 99-degree weather = bad idea.
Another day, we all went thrift-store shopping and the kids got free cookies at Publix. Aren't we just so creative?
We got to spend some time with Lauren and Noah (by the way, Noah's baby brother will be born tomorrow - sharing my birthday! Fun!).
And we put Aunt Jenna in jail.
And tonight, we capped off our weeks of fun and frivolity by getting Slurpees again, and walking around on the Big Green Monster (a bridge that goes over the road).
Speaking of Cory, he's really talking up a storm! While we lived in the Middle House, he put his first sentence together: All done, Mama. But after that, back to a word here and there. Right before we came down here, his speaking really took off! He imitates us using words (i.e. "Say Slurpee, Cory!" "Fluur-fees!"), and routinely uses two or more words together. And he uses adjectives - how cool is that! He said, pointing at a tiny box of raisins that he wanted: "that little box." Although it came out more like "da lil bah." I got the point. And he said "Bee baahh" for "big ball."
I love, love, love this stage - watching the language skills develop, finally getting to hear what's on his mind. Love it!
Iain's been eating up all this cousin time. The Nelsons and the Bells are here, and the Alex Schweizers are close by, so there is always someone to play with. He is having a blast. I don't think he'll know what to do with himself when we go home.
He's a trip, that boy. The other day, he informed my mom that he wanted to be called Cat Boy. Um, okay. Later, I asked him why.
Iain: Cat Boy is not a regular boy name, and I wanted a different name. So I thought, well, Cat Boy is a good name.
(Right. I especially liked the "well" in the middle.)
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Blessed
“In love He predestined us for adoption as sons through Jesus Christ, according to the purpose of His will, to the praise of His glorious grace, with which He has blessed us in the Beloved.”
(Ephesians 1:4-6 ESV)
I've thought of so many ways to begin this post. Been thinking about it for weeks now. And now that it's time to write it, I don't know how to do it justice.
How do you say something so big? How do you express something so life-changing?
I guess you just say it.
We are adopting a baby girl from Rwanda.
Ever since I was young, adoption has spoken to my heart. They call it the Adoption Gene. There are many reasons why I want to adopt, and I plan to delve into them in the coming weeks and months as we wait for our daughter. But it's always been there, something I knew I would do. Jeremy and I talked about adoption before we married, and decided it was something God was calling our family to. Lately, we've been discussing it more and more, wondering if now was the time.
But we'd always thought it would be from Asia. As many of you know, I have a deep love for Mongolia. I thought a child from my "heart country" just made sense. But all the doors closed. Mongolia only allows two agencies in, and it was an unstable situation. I contacted one of those, and it had shut down its Mongolia branch. Jeremy, like I, had always just assumed Asia was the place for us. So we thought about other countries in Asia, but for many reasons, doors just kept closing.
One morning, I prayed (in the shower, one of my best prayer places) about it. I asked the Lord to open my heart to whatever place He wanted, whether Asia or not. And almost immediately, I just felt a peace - a sense - that Africa was where our daughter would come from. Jeremy was praying about Africa, too. We talked, and prayed, and thought, and got more and more sure and excited that it was right.
So we researched some more, and decided on our agency. We really like it so far (If you are interested to know which agency we're using, email me or leave me your email address in a comment. I'd be happy to share!). It are a Christian organization, with a definite heart for the orphans of the world. And we applied for Rwanda. Why Rwanda? We don't really know, other than that we feel very drawn to that country, and we know it is the right place.
So, for the curious: Our daughter will be between 0 and 14 months, most likely closer to the 14 months. We will begin assembling our dossier in the next few days, and the home study will be done simultaneously. It takes an average of four months (we're very motivated, and hope to get it done faster!). Then it will be submitted to Rwanda. From then, it will take an average of ten months to get the referral (again, we hope for faster - but who doesn't?), which will give us the name, picture, and short bio of our daughter. From then, it takes about two months until we go to Rwanda (for about ten days) and bring her home. So total, we're looking at a little over a year from now (but Godspeed the paperwork!).
The cost is low for an international adoption, but it's still high. We plan to fund some of it ourselves, apply for grants (and possibly an adoption loan, which is interest-free), and fund-raise. We figure that there is pretty much no better way to spend our money than this.
We ask for you to pray with us and rejoice with us! We're thrilled to be walking this road which will end with a new little girl in our arms!
(Ephesians 1:4-6 ESV)
I've thought of so many ways to begin this post. Been thinking about it for weeks now. And now that it's time to write it, I don't know how to do it justice.
How do you say something so big? How do you express something so life-changing?
I guess you just say it.
We are adopting a baby girl from Rwanda.
Ever since I was young, adoption has spoken to my heart. They call it the Adoption Gene. There are many reasons why I want to adopt, and I plan to delve into them in the coming weeks and months as we wait for our daughter. But it's always been there, something I knew I would do. Jeremy and I talked about adoption before we married, and decided it was something God was calling our family to. Lately, we've been discussing it more and more, wondering if now was the time.
But we'd always thought it would be from Asia. As many of you know, I have a deep love for Mongolia. I thought a child from my "heart country" just made sense. But all the doors closed. Mongolia only allows two agencies in, and it was an unstable situation. I contacted one of those, and it had shut down its Mongolia branch. Jeremy, like I, had always just assumed Asia was the place for us. So we thought about other countries in Asia, but for many reasons, doors just kept closing.
One morning, I prayed (in the shower, one of my best prayer places) about it. I asked the Lord to open my heart to whatever place He wanted, whether Asia or not. And almost immediately, I just felt a peace - a sense - that Africa was where our daughter would come from. Jeremy was praying about Africa, too. We talked, and prayed, and thought, and got more and more sure and excited that it was right.
So we researched some more, and decided on our agency. We really like it so far (If you are interested to know which agency we're using, email me or leave me your email address in a comment. I'd be happy to share!). It are a Christian organization, with a definite heart for the orphans of the world. And we applied for Rwanda. Why Rwanda? We don't really know, other than that we feel very drawn to that country, and we know it is the right place.
So, for the curious: Our daughter will be between 0 and 14 months, most likely closer to the 14 months. We will begin assembling our dossier in the next few days, and the home study will be done simultaneously. It takes an average of four months (we're very motivated, and hope to get it done faster!). Then it will be submitted to Rwanda. From then, it will take an average of ten months to get the referral (again, we hope for faster - but who doesn't?), which will give us the name, picture, and short bio of our daughter. From then, it takes about two months until we go to Rwanda (for about ten days) and bring her home. So total, we're looking at a little over a year from now (but Godspeed the paperwork!).
The cost is low for an international adoption, but it's still high. We plan to fund some of it ourselves, apply for grants (and possibly an adoption loan, which is interest-free), and fund-raise. We figure that there is pretty much no better way to spend our money than this.
We ask for you to pray with us and rejoice with us! We're thrilled to be walking this road which will end with a new little girl in our arms!
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Cow Days and Beach Days
Friday: Cow Appreciation Day. Dress like a cow and get a free meal at Chick-fil-a. Iain was especially excited, holding his costume the whole way there. Who am I kidding? Jeremy was the one who was really thrilled. We met friends from church there and throughly enjoyed ourselves.
Saturday: Lake Day. Go to the lake and play until you're tired enough to take a good nap. We LOVED the lake! Why haven't we gone before? A nice sandy beach, not crowded at all, clear(ish) water, so fun! I think we'll be doing a lot more lake time this summer. Plus, there were open water swims going on (5K, 3K, 1K) so we got to watch the excitement of people taking off and returning down at the other end of the beach. Made me want to swim a 5K! Or an anything K, for that matter.
Look at this guy: surfer hair, cool hat, big blue eyes, dashing smile, a dimple! We're going to have to beat the girls off this handsome dude!
This one is cute too. You just can't tell here.
Loving the water:
Iain's hidey-hole.
Later, the tired boys (and the tired mama!) read books.
Saturday: Lake Day. Go to the lake and play until you're tired enough to take a good nap. We LOVED the lake! Why haven't we gone before? A nice sandy beach, not crowded at all, clear(ish) water, so fun! I think we'll be doing a lot more lake time this summer. Plus, there were open water swims going on (5K, 3K, 1K) so we got to watch the excitement of people taking off and returning down at the other end of the beach. Made me want to swim a 5K! Or an anything K, for that matter.
Look at this guy: surfer hair, cool hat, big blue eyes, dashing smile, a dimple! We're going to have to beat the girls off this handsome dude!
This one is cute too. You just can't tell here.
Loving the water:
Iain's hidey-hole.
Later, the tired boys (and the tired mama!) read books.
Thursday, July 09, 2009
Monsters Under my Bookshelf
Contrary to Darwin's theories, mutations are never beneficial. This case is no different. Our sweet, darling, little bookworms have mutated into something terrifying. Aunt Kelsey can attest to the degree of fear these two book-mutants can instill in the heart of anyone kind enough - or foolish enough - to enter into our home.
All you have to do is come in and sit down. They smell your fresh blood. And they stalk you, circling closer and closer with books in their outstretched little paws.
"Boooooo...k"
"Boooooooooooooo...k"
"Booooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo...k"
And then they have you. They lure you in with their cute big eyes and sweet little voices. But then, when they get you on the hook, when you crack the first pages of the first book, you are theirs forever. You will never escape.
You will be reading Dr. Seuss for the rest of your life. If you're lucky. If not, it'll be endless renditions of "You're My Little Love Bug."
I cannot sit during the day. As soon as I do, they attack. They sense a weakness, a momentary shift in my ability to withstand their charms, and they descend upon me, books in hands.
We worked so hard to get these little guys to fall in love with books, as their parents have. One of my baby showers, when I was pregnant with Iain, was a book shower. We read to both of them long before they could understand the words we spoke. We delighted in the times they asked to read. We especially loved seeing them sitting quietly, both lost in the worlds of their imaginations, the only sounds the gentle hush of the turning pages.
But we never anticipated that we'd be creating these monsters. Book-monsters, that is. We are imprisoned by their demands.
Today, I took the boys to Bed Bath and Beyond to look for a lamp. Iain saw one he liked and said, "Mama, that one looks like a Hut-Zut!" And if you can correctly identify the book that he was referencing, you will know that you too have been caught.
All you have to do is come in and sit down. They smell your fresh blood. And they stalk you, circling closer and closer with books in their outstretched little paws.
"Boooooo...k"
"Boooooooooooooo...k"
"Booooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo...k"
And then they have you. They lure you in with their cute big eyes and sweet little voices. But then, when they get you on the hook, when you crack the first pages of the first book, you are theirs forever. You will never escape.
You will be reading Dr. Seuss for the rest of your life. If you're lucky. If not, it'll be endless renditions of "You're My Little Love Bug."
I cannot sit during the day. As soon as I do, they attack. They sense a weakness, a momentary shift in my ability to withstand their charms, and they descend upon me, books in hands.
We worked so hard to get these little guys to fall in love with books, as their parents have. One of my baby showers, when I was pregnant with Iain, was a book shower. We read to both of them long before they could understand the words we spoke. We delighted in the times they asked to read. We especially loved seeing them sitting quietly, both lost in the worlds of their imaginations, the only sounds the gentle hush of the turning pages.
But we never anticipated that we'd be creating these monsters. Book-monsters, that is. We are imprisoned by their demands.
Today, I took the boys to Bed Bath and Beyond to look for a lamp. Iain saw one he liked and said, "Mama, that one looks like a Hut-Zut!" And if you can correctly identify the book that he was referencing, you will know that you too have been caught.
Sunday, July 05, 2009
Summer Days
More pictures, not much to say. I think my brain has checked out, or at least gone on vacation. I do have at least two posts cooking, though. Anyway, on to the pictures:
These two were from yesterday, July 4th. Iain had a fever, so we couldn't do any of the things we had planned. But we did go at his request to see the caboose. Cory is fascinated with spitting. It's his new favorite hobby.
This is my Kitchen Elf's newest creation: saucepan + spices + chopsticks.
Here's Cory looking cute and sleepy after a nap.
We spent the night with Curtis and Jenna last week. Iain talked on the whole drive over about riding a tractor "If Uncle Curtis says yes." Which he did. Before we left, Iain told the cashier at Aldi that we were going to see Aunt Jenna. The cashier asked where Aunt Jenna lived, and Iain replied, "About two hours away." She was impressed. :)
This is at Jenna and Curtis' mini golf course.
The day we left for J&C's house, we had our septic tank worked on. Talk about some pricey entertainment for the boys! Next time I think we'll go for a toy car.
We had a week-long visit with Grammy and Papa. They painted and worked the whole time they were here! Got so much done! And they kept the boys overnight for us so we could go out for Jeremy's birthday (belated). We went to a cool historic hotel in the city and spent our first night away from the boys.
And Cory. Sometimes one "pah-pah" just doesn't cut it.
These two were from yesterday, July 4th. Iain had a fever, so we couldn't do any of the things we had planned. But we did go at his request to see the caboose. Cory is fascinated with spitting. It's his new favorite hobby.
This is my Kitchen Elf's newest creation: saucepan + spices + chopsticks.
Here's Cory looking cute and sleepy after a nap.
We spent the night with Curtis and Jenna last week. Iain talked on the whole drive over about riding a tractor "If Uncle Curtis says yes." Which he did. Before we left, Iain told the cashier at Aldi that we were going to see Aunt Jenna. The cashier asked where Aunt Jenna lived, and Iain replied, "About two hours away." She was impressed. :)
This is at Jenna and Curtis' mini golf course.
The day we left for J&C's house, we had our septic tank worked on. Talk about some pricey entertainment for the boys! Next time I think we'll go for a toy car.
We had a week-long visit with Grammy and Papa. They painted and worked the whole time they were here! Got so much done! And they kept the boys overnight for us so we could go out for Jeremy's birthday (belated). We went to a cool historic hotel in the city and spent our first night away from the boys.
And Cory. Sometimes one "pah-pah" just doesn't cut it.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Iains Say the Darndest Things
(the Viking-Knight-Beach bum)
Singing: Oh, Mama, oh Mama. Oh, she's a good good good good good mama.
(why, thank you :))
As I was putting him to bed the other night:
Iain: Mama, when you grow up, you can be a knight!
Me: Really? What do knights do?
Iain: (thinking) Well, they kick balls, and they squish bugs, and when they get mad they kick people.
Me: (mock horror) Oh no, Iain. Knights are good. They don't kick people. Maybe when they get mad they kick balls or pillows or something.
Iain: (in a creepy, drawn-out little voice, full of mischief) I like baaaaaad knights.
Me: No, we like good knights.
(later, during our nightly "Thank You Jesus for" ritual)
Iain: Thank You Jesus for baaaaad knights.
(Here, he's got what he calls "my big hands" on his feet. Translation? My oven mitts. And this is what he does when I tell him to freeze for the camera.)
As he sits down to eat his Curious George Fruit Thingies (and yes, that is the technical name): I am a snack-eater.
(talking to Nona on the phone. And chillin' apparently.)
The other day, I was trying to teach Cory to sign "I love you." So I'd say and sign "I...love..." and he'd fill in the blank (usually with "Mama!" - be still my heart.) But then, oh yes, he remembered the Big Brother.
Me: I...love...
Cory: Eeeen!
Iain: (sitting nearby in the red chair, reading a book, not once looking up or noticing the goings-on) thankyou.
(Just like that. Running the words together and like nothing funny was going on - I was cracking up. But maybe that was just the long-term effects of two little boys on my mental capacity. Or the fact that I am, after all, a Schweizer. And if you know us, you know what I mean. But here, once more without the commentary).
Me: I...love...
Cory: Eeen!
Iain: thankyou.
Me: I...love...
Cory: Eeen!
Iain: thankyou.
And it went on and on about six times. Hilarious.
Edited to add one more:
Jeremy: I'm going to run the water in the tub, and then I'm going to come back and throw you in.
Iain: (worried) No,gently put me in the tub.
Jeremy: (coming to get Cory) Okey Cory, I'm going to throw you in the tub.
Iain: Nooooo! Don't throw him in! He's my son!!!!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
