My handsome boy. You were born seven years ago on the day that the doctors guessed you would be here. It was a challenging pregnancy, my first round of post partum depression, and yet here you were, this handsome squalling little thing.

The past year has brought many things with you. Things like losing your first teeth, starting to learn to read. Getting your first CT scan.

Deciding not to STOP smashing rocks with a hammer, but deciding that you would definitely be more careful about it.

You are my surprising child. I can’t even count the times that you have shocked me with your perseverance, with your heart of gold. Son, I hope you keep that heart. The part that feels so deeply for everyone and everything around you. Your bravery at confronting an injustice, even when that might mean having anger turned on you.

I love how INTO things you get. “Great persevering!” is a refrain commonly heard in this house. From spending two hours in a break until you were ready to come and talk about what was done wrong, to spending hours building a lego model. A K’nex model. Colouring a picture. Building a fort in your room. Smashing rocks with hammers. Your perseverance in getting the job done is a great lesson to me as well. If it’s work doing, it’s worth spending the time on to do it right and to get it done. I love that about you.

We are just now figuring out some food and behaviour issues for you. It’s a tricky thing, because when you are happy? When you aren’t hungry and things are going well? You are the best kind of kid to be around. Cautiously willing to try just about anything, easy going. Helpful. But, when you are hungry and things are not just as you would like them to be? Then your rage is fearsome to watch. I hope and pray that we can figure this out so that you can be that sweet sweet boy all the time.

Oh Ephraim, you are the middle child. The only boy. I love to watch you as you figure things out in this world. You are so very black and white when it comes to rules. You don’t like anything that deviates from what you know to be truth. Not even in the slightest.

You hold me to my word. If I say I’m going to do something, you can darned well bet that you will be the one who gently reminds me of what I said.

I love you, handsome boy. I wouldn’t change a thing about you, and I can’t wait to see what the Lord has in store for you this year!

Love,
Momma

We’ve had a bit of a tough week around here.  Some family tragedy that has really made Ja and I unavailable to the hooligans.  They have been so very good and so very understanding while we spent hours on the phone, hours figuring things out, that kind of thing.

So yesterday I stumbled across this link for homemade sidewalk chalk!  It was such a gorgeous day yesterday that we figured it was the perfect afternoon activity.

Cornstarch, water and food colouring.  Very very simple, and so much fun.  The only thing I would do next time, is add more cornstarch…  maybe 3/4 cup of cornstarch for 1/2 cup of water.  It could have been a wee bit thicker for ease of painting.

It’s always so interesting to me to see the different ways that the hooligans are creative with things like this. They started out all bunched together, sharing the different colours back and forth. Then they each moved to their own space to create something.

Zi liked to do big things…

Eph is a detail man. He spent a long long time working on one picture at a time. this always amazes me about my boy. He definitely kept going for the longest amount of time. Just patiently painting and painting…

Talya, in her typical singing fashion, sang her way through each picture, hopping from one spot to the next.

This was a great way to spend the afternoon. It occupied them for a couple of hours at least. It would have been longer, I’m sure, if I had have made them some more paint.

A great peaceful time spent together. There wasn’t even any arguing over colours, just kind asking and sharing…

We will definitely be doing this again!

Ah Zi.  My wonderful and delightful first born.  As a baby you were so easy going…  slept well at night (albeit not during the day).  It seems like just yesterday I went into the hospital with what we thought were indigestion pains…  and now, now, I look at you, the young lady that you are, that you are becoming, and I am amazed, I am so thankful, and I am awed.

It’s so funny when I watch you, when you do things exactly the same way that I used to do them. Making your friends sweet little gifts that adults see as useless, gently intervening between fighting toddlers…

This year has brought a new side of you. Where before you were happy to romp around with the boys for hours and hours, you do tire of them after a little while now. Curling up to read, get a break from their “foolishness”. Even tho you may have been the instigator in whatever maniacal opportunity that has presented itself at that moment.  Climbing trees, floating in the spring full sandbox in a rubbermaid…

You are all girl, delicate frills, creative, bookworm, and yet, put you in the middle of a pile of mud, add some worms, and that is your element as well. I love your adaptability. I love how you walk to the beat of your own drummer, how you don’t care what others think of you. I love how you have no fear to tell someone, even your peers, when they are doing something that you think is wrong.

I love your tenacity. How even when you’re frustrated, you still keep at it. Going and going until you figure it out.  You do this with sewing, with knitting, and tonight, on your birthday, you even learned to spin.

I love your freedom and your joy in the Lord.  How you will talk about His love with just about anyone.  I love your acceptance, your simple faith in what is good and what is right.

I tell people all the time that you are “that” child. That you learn things easily. That you LOVE to learn. That once you saw that there were “words everywhere!” We could not hold you back if we had tried.

You take that will to learn in everything you do.  I watch you listening to your instructor carefully…  you try it, you fall, you just as simply get back up again and try it again.  It doesn’t seem to matter how often the fall happens, how many bruises there are, your determination will get you through.

You are the epitome of big sister. You love your siblings, and yet you hate them at the same time. You want to play with them, want to be with them, but you can turn on a dime and despise them. Screeching at them to get out of your room, leave you alone…

It’s getting hard to read you these days.  Where once a tickle fight was just about always welcome, now it may throw you into a fit… sending you screaming to your room to slam the door.  It’s a delicate balance, this hovering on the edge of womanhood.  You are mostly child, but you have one foot, one toe over the line.

“You know how it is, Mama.” You say, “You’re the oldest too.” And I do know. I know absolutely.

Eight is going to be a hard age, I think. For both of us. You are ready for more responsibility. A wee bit more freedom. I am not ready for you to be more than my baby, my wee little girl… To me, you are still that sweet baby, all ready to curl up in my arms. God made you to grow away from me… and that is the hardest part of being a parent. Learning when to let go.  Trusting that He will guide you, that He will protect you when you are away from the protective circle of your Daddy’s and my arms.

Learning when to let you turn the spindle on your own. Figuring out when to let you fall, only helping you up when you ask. Letting you make mistakes, and helping you figure out how to make those mistakes right.

When all I really want to do is hold you tight and protect you from all the woes of the world. All of that while at the same time letting you be a child.

I cannot wait to see what the world of eight is going to bring us!

And I am so very very glad that eight is not too old for spinning.

Love,
Mama

143. quiet house while the hooligans are away
144. Spending time puttering… with no stress of deadlines
145. Learning a new craft as a family
146. Being able to help out friends
147. Spaghetti pie
148. massive snow falls… right before spring
149. Not being too old for tickle fights
150. A man who makes you laugh so hard your tummy hurts
151. Visiting new churches, learning how different people worship
152. The whir of the breadmaker
153. The feel of spring in the air
154. Three year olds who sing whatever comes into their head at any time
155. New books
156. New curriculums
157. Humility, in all its shapes and forms
158. Online and irl friends who give you a pep talk right when you need it
159. Sweet snuggling babies
160. Babies snuggled close in their slings

The other day I was toodling around on the computer, chatting with AmyJ on messenger, and Eph was sitting beside me nattering away.

((((As an aside, do YOU use the word nattering?  I’ve been informed that it’s an unusual word… that some people have never heard it before…  that chattering is more common.  Help me out here, people…))))

My part of the conversation basically consisted of “mmhmm…  really?  You would?  That’s cool!”

His part went a wee bit like this…

“Maybe when I grow up, I could be a toy boat maker!”
“and you guys can come, and I would give you boats for free.”
“if I had my OWN workshop, I could make as many boats as i wanted.”
“say I had wood in there, I could make REAL boats.”
“as many as I wanted.”
“I JUST need a workshop.”
“I could make canoes, and rock boats, and even metal ones!”
“if I only had my own workshop.”
“maybe sometime when it’s spring, we could go to the beach and try the boat out.”
“people would probably be CRAZY with THAT.”

As AmyJ pointed out, he could make as many boats as he wanted, because there would be no boat police to stop him.

I love these little glimpses into how their minds work.  It’s so fascinating what comes out of their mouths when you really listen… listen without interrupting.

And now I’m off to figure out how I can give him his OWN workshop for Christmas…  Ja may have a problem with that one.