I need to read this. Every.day.
So I figure, you probably need to read it, too.
Category Archives: Parenting
Day 10: Truth
“The best you can do is always enough.”
I said it this morning to my oldest daughter, my mini-me, my budding perfectionist. She had tied her own shoe (correctly). Was it right? she wanted to know. Was it good enough?
Yes, Erin. Your best is always good enough. I sent her for the other shoe. I said, “Do you know why your best is always enough?” No.
“Because God is always more than enough. Just do the best you can, don’t expect perfect, because He will always fill in all the places where we aren’t enough.”
I’m trying to teach her. I’m trying to teach me. I don’t have to be or do or act perfect. I just have to do my best, offer my best, and then let it go so that God can use it however He wants. My best is just rags. But He wants them anyway. Because He can fill up my “rags” with His own righteousness and then, amazingly, use them to further His plan, His glory. He wants me to co-create with Him. Just my crayon scribbles, but He can make them a masterpiece. Such grace.
So I want her to hear it. To get it. Long before her hard-headed momma has, so I said to her again, “Your best is…” She said, “..to try!”
I said, “Your best is…” She said, “to learn!”
I said, “Your best is always enough. Because God is always more than enough.”
We’ll learn it together, Erin-girl. We’ll just keep learning it together.
Day 9: Perspective
So I read a book recently called 30 Days of Praise for Parents by Becky Harling. I actually got to read it as a manuscript (I’m a freelance proofreader for a publishing company), but it’s on Amazon now, so you can read it, too.
I was really challenged by this book. I didn’t read it for the information (I was looking for spelling errors at the time), but the premise of the book is to commit to praise God for your kids for 30 days (check out Becky Harling’s website for her story and how the 30-day praise challenge changed her life), and the book give 30 different things to pray for, one for each day. Honestly I don’t remember most of them. But a couple of the ideas really stuck out to me.
And both of those days had to do with perspective. One had to do with praising God for who your child is…even (and especially) for the qualities or characteristics that just drive you nuts. This struck me. Praising God for a child’s anger or stubbornness or whatever? Really? But when I tried it, it changed my view of my own kids. I really do l one who they are, ALL of who they are. And praising for the parts of them that are challenging forces me to accept that part of them and find a new perspective on it. That stubbornness? Well, someday, maybe he’ll be stubborn enough to stand for his faith when others are making fun of him. And that anger? Maybe she will learn to be angry for justice and making a difference in the lives of people. God can USE those qualities. Much as I want to sometimes, I can’t pray that they go away…I have to pray that my kids (and I) submit to God’s ability to use those aspects of their character.
The other idea that stood out to me was to praise Jesus for what He’s doing in my kids’ lives. Not just asking Him to help me where I’m trying to work with them. But to step back and let Him have first go and praise Him for whatever He’s doing in their lives, even if it’s not what I think is “most important.” That was a big perspective shift for me, too.
I’m finding these ideas particularly valuable with the twins in Kindergarten. That hasn’t been an entirely easy transition. But remembering to praise God for my two (all four, really) and how He’s growing them in these days, makes a huge difference in my ability to respond to them creatively and helpfully.
So I do recommend this book (or you might start with the first book The 30-Day Praise Challenge, though I haven’t read that one). It’s always fun to see how God will change our perspectives. And it’s good for us, too!
Day 7: Megan
So this is an easy one. Today, Megan turned 4 years old. She’s a spunky, full of life little thing who adds adventure and charm to our family. She will find any dirt or sandbox or mud puddle within a 2 mile radius and happily splash and squoosh and smear it all over herself. There is no such thing as keeping her shirts clean.
But she is funny. Witty, even. By the time she’s a teenager, she’ll have a wicked grasp of humor and sarcasm and, well, wit. For now, the tiny seeds are visible, and I’m trying not to train her too early towards my own (at times) lack of tact.
She is loving having the twins in school now, despite the summer’s meltdowns over the coming change. We play games. We cook together. She loves to point that “she’s the only kid” so she gets to do [fill in the blank]. Obviously, Timmy is completely discounted from her equation there, but she is right that I’m not going to let him dump the flour into the bowl. So as usual, she’s pretty much right!
Megan is hard to capture in words. And she’s a pusher. She grabs everything by the horns and will NOT let go. She is stubborn. She is strong-willed. She is smart. OH.MY.WORD. Smart. But she’s a snuggler. A needer of verbal affirmation. A tender-hearted little thing who just colors our world with wonder.
Happy Birthday, Megan. You are truly one of a kind.
Poor, Poor Meg
So on Sunday night, we made our very first visit to the ER. Honestly, I’m surprised we made it this long. Seriously. Meg will be four in October, and I cannot believe we’ve never been there before. But anyway, we went.
At about 6:30, Eric came carrying Meg down the hill towards me, her arm cradled in her lap. She was crying. He looked very concerned. I touched the arm underneath the bones, and I knew. One glance at Eric, and we both agreed. That arm was broken.
So he put her in the van for me while I grabbed by stuff and drove for town. I talked to Meg some and said a prayer for us, that we could get there in good time and for grace, for doors to be opened to deal with the arm quickly and easily. And really, the entire night was one grace after another. I had no idea.
As I drove, I called our mothers and let them know, realized Meg had actually dozed off for a few minutes, and got to the ER about 7:15. Another family was at the check-in desk when I carried her in. They were sent back through the doors I had just come in, to the waiting room on the other side of the entrance. I came to the desk.
Me: Hi, I’m pretty sure my daughter broke her arm.
Check-in lady: Okay. Her name? (We went through all the basic info and got her bracelet put on her right arm). Okay, then why don’t you sit down right there.
She pointed at a single chair against the wall just inside the door. On this side of the entrance. She poked her head into the triage room, said something I couldn’t hear and then popped back out. “Okay, have a seat right in here, and we’ll get you started.” She gestured into the triage area, not five feet in front of me. Um…okay.
I moved into the chair inside the triage room, and the nurse and PA started talking. The word “deformity” got used more than once. The PA took Megan’s pulse while the nurse got some basic information. The PA went to another computer while the nurse took Meg’s temperature. She said, “Okay, Mom, that arm is definitely broken, we just need to know how bad.” Um…okay.
With that, they took us back to an open room. The only open room. The one, I realized, the triage ladies were saying had just come open as we got there. They’d put someone’s name on it from the waiting room, but bumped them back to put Meg in next. We were literally shown to a room in less than 5 minutes.
I was so grateful, too. I stopped to thank Jesus for answering my prayer. I remembered to pray for whoever’s name had been bumped down the list so Megan could go first. but mostly, I was just grateful the arm was actually broken and that we had done the right thing in coming.
Our nurse, Erin, followed us in almost immediately and started getting Meg some Motrin for the pain. She asked me a couple of questions and said the x-ray had already been ordered so we just had to wait for that. Seriously, they ordered the x-ray before we were even in the room. More grace.
We spent the next hour or so waiting, but never more than 20 or so minutes between someone’s arrival. Megan played my iPad and only cried if someone had to bump her arm. She was a CHAMP. Apparently trauma makes her mellow, not spastic. Another grace. The x-ray techs came and took two films. They took a top-down shot, and then moved the arm so the hand was palm-down, and as soon as they did, I could see it. Bones are not supposed to be like that.
After they finished, we waited for the orthopedic doctor to see and weigh in on the next step. Another doctor came in to check for other sprains or bruises…nothing (grace). Erin, the nurse, came back once or twice to check on us. Megan was very happy to play game after game on the iPad. She talked to anyone who talked to her. And they did so great with her. They spoke to her like a little person. But a little one. She told them what happened (“My leg tripped me.”) and where it hurt exactly. She thanked people as they left. They were all incredibly impressed, but honestly…that’s just my Meg.
Finally, the orthopedic guy came in. He showed me the x-rays, and confirmed what we all knew. The ulna was broken, a jagged point clearly not where it should be (but not through the skin either). But the radius had bowed, not broken, because her 3-year-old bones aren’t totally calcified yet. That’s what made that second x-ray look so bad. So the good news was that the break was nowhere near the growth plates (grace), she hadn’t broken both bones (grace), and he could manipulate it back in place that night. He recommended conscious sedation, which I was happy to approve, because he said oral sedatives “only gave me one chance and she’ll hate me forever.” Ha!
Anyway, to do the procedure, she had to have an IV. So we waited a few minutes for Erin to come back for that. She brought another nurse, Mike, with her. They talked to Megan about everything, and she let them do it all. Only when they actually poked her elbow did she cry. And she sobbed. But she didn’t flinch or pull or kick or anything. Mike held her arm just in case, but pretty soon they had it in and taped in place. And then Meg’s only concern was how she could play the iPad with both arms messed up (she quickly figured out she could still bend the right elbow).
After a bit, we were taken back to another room for the sedation and procedure. We put Meg in a wheelchair, and as the nurse turned right, I happened to glance left towards the entrance and there, just being brought to a room, was the couple who had been standing at the desk when I came in. It was two hours later, and they were just being seen. Thank you, Jesus, was all I could think.
We turned and then turned again down another hall of curtained rooms, and just as we got to the back room where things would go down, I heard, “Shannah?” Behind me came Becca Geyer, a nurse who was basically volunteering on the floor that night to prep for picking up more ER shifts in the future. She’s also the wife of Geoff Geyer, one of Eric’s best friends from college. Big-time Grace.
Becca hung with us for most of the next hour. She helped them get things set up. She and Mike watched the numbers and charted things. She explained stuff to me. She got me a sandwich and some water. (Another huge grace) She even held Meg’s arm while the actual procedure was done. I cannot even tell you how much it meant for a familiar face to be with us that night.
And the other ER personnel were just as great. Mike put all the monitors on Meg, and she ate up his explanations. Her thumb had a light on it. She got five stickers on her chest and belly. The orthopedic doctor explained what they would do, and then we sat for a few minutes waiting for the permission papers to come. I asked how he decided on orthopedics. He said, “Do you want the long version or the short?” I laughed, “Well, I’m gonna be here for a while.” He gave me the brief version, but it was interesting to hear what had gotten him to this moment with my child.
We had a few minutes of downtime in the back room, and I watched Meg’s ellies (her stuffed elephant rattles) sitting on the bed while she played the iPad. That was the only time I got nervous. Just how crazy things had gone, how fast things had gone, how I was sitting in a back room of the ER with an oblivious Meg, and so grateful it wasn’t worse. Still sedation is sedation, and for a few minutes, I was a bit overwhelmed.
And then things got rolling again. Meg answered all questions, but mostly she just played her iPad. The orthopedic guy was watching her play, amazed at how she was reading and doing the matching games so perfectly well. Yep, that’s my Meg. Then Mike put the morphine in. The doctor laughed, “Mike, man, you’re messing up her score with that stuff.” Sure enough, she couldn’t quite control her fingers, and it was kind of funny to watch.
They finished the sedation and started the process. There were 6 adults with large machines surrounding a big bed on which Meg was lying flat. It was a little surreal, but they worked well together. The x-ray techs came back and Becca held the arm while the doctor moved everything into place and put on the splint. They checked with the x-ray to see that all was well, and then wrapped the splint up.
After that, it was just a waiting game. Meg came out of sedation easily. She lifted her head a bit, lifted it a second time and said, “Hey mom, know what I see?” “No what?” “A stop sign.” Sure enough on the door across the room, 10 or 12 feet away, was a stop sign sticker. I knew she’d be fine then. I did catch her a couple of times just looking at her arm strangely, trying to figure out when the splint had appeared. But she was quickly back to the iPad while we waited for discharge. Oddly enough, that was the longest wait of the night because they had to have a pediatric sling brought down from the other hospital campus, but finally, two new nurses came (Mike joined them later) to unhook everything and get us discharged. Megan was very clear to the nurses that “her doctor” had put all those things on her (meaning Mike, of course). She was very proud of all her stickers and things. Then as I was talking to one nurse, Meg looked over at her.
Meg: What’s your name?
Nurse: I’m Jessie.
Meg: It’s nice to meet you Jessie.
Jessie: It’s nice to meet you, too, Megan. (she looked at me amazed…yep, that’s my Meg)
Megan: turning slowly to the other nurse, “And what’s your name?”
Nurse: I’m Jean. It’s nice to meet you.
Megan: It’s nice to meet you, too.
Then she went back to her iPad for a bit longer. FInally Mike, Jessie, and Jean had her all charted, unhooked, and in the sling. She thanked them all, again, as we left. As we exited the ER and headed to the car, I realized it was only 11:30 pm. Another grace.
As I was putting her in the car, Meg informed me that she wanted to watch Frozen when we got home. “Well, okay, maybe tomorrow morning,” I said. “No, when we get home. They told me, I could watch Frozen when I got home.” Right…just following doctor’s orders.
Anyway, we got home about midnight and got Megan something to eat. Earlier, she’d wanted to know when they were bringing her food, and she did get a purple popsicle on her way out. But overall, she did beyond well. The nurses and everyone were beyond impressed with her, and I could just see Jesus taking care of us the entire night. We’re now a few days past, and she’s itchin’ to get her cast so she can DO stuff again. But for our first broken bone and trip to the ER, I could not have asked for a better adventure.
One Crazy Weekend (Starting School)
I doubt any future “start of school” adventure we have will ever be able to top this year’s craziness. Just sayin’.
Kindergarten is our first adventure of its kind. We’ve never done preschool. My kids haven’t had a church nursery for over a year. We have done life together, up close and personal. And now, suddenly, my two Bigs are heading off into a brand-new thing.
I was/am so excited for them. Seriously. I sat in the parents’ orientation meeting, looking around the classroom and just knowing how much they will love it. Of course, I’m also aware of how exhausted they’re going to be for a while, going from nothing to all-day-every-day Kindergarten, but it is just what they need. My tears were happy tears. They are ready, and I’m so proud of the little people I get to send to Mrs. Cullins’s class.
So on Friday, we went in to meet the teacher, drop off our school supplies, and do a quick assessment to see where they are. And, yeah, they’re totally ready for Kindergarten. Alex is probably going to have a speech IEP for a while, but as far as knowledge goes – they are there. No big surprise. We are ready.
Then the weekend crazy hit. MOPS retreat on Friday night and the first half of Saturday. Eric watching kiddos. Writing like a mad woman any spare second I can get. Stayed up too late for a couple of nights. Trying to enjoy my kids and not put them off on this last weekend before school. Eric needing to get outside work done. More writing. Trying to get to the paperwork in the twins’ school folder – read it all, sign stuff, put it back in the right place in the folder.
(Side note: the twins each had a get-to-know-me paper for us to fill out. I did one for Megan at the same time. Erin’s favorite activity: shopping. What makes Alex happy: getting a new video game. What makes Megan sad: being left behind. Poor kid.)
Anyway, Saturday turned to Sunday. My in-laws left on vacation right after church. Eric went out to lunch with his brothers while I did lunch with the kids, then they rested/napped while I wrote some more. The guys came back, worked on the house, and then Alan headed back to do feeding. Just after 6, Eric headed over with the big 3 in the tractor. They were going to help Alan unload hay. I was going to have some space to write until it was time to throw a supper on the table. Great!
Just before 6:30, I saw a car come into the driveway. The twins came running down the hill to the door, hollering, “Megan fell down and Daddy thinks she broke her arm!” Um…what?!? He carried her down, she cradling her left arm against her belly. I felt it briefly. Yep. Broken.
So, I took Megan to the ER while Eric stayed with the kids. We got home about midnight (the events of our trip in will have to be a second post) and got to bed about 1:00 am.
At 7:00 am, Alex tumbled into our bed, ready for the day. Erin wasn’t far behind. We got ready for school. I made lunches and filled out all the details and paperwork that should’ve been done the night before. We were making good time. We walked up the hill…and waited for just a few minutes when our neighbor at the top of the hill stuck his head out the door. “The bus has already gone by,” he said. “What?!? When?” “About 10 minutes ago.”
Great. So we missed the bus on the first day of school. Thankfully, we had plenty of time to get there. Back down the hill we went and got into the van. I drove us up to school (there’s a bridge out causing all sorts of issues, but that’s a rant for another day), and got there just at the perfect time. I let the kids out and walked them to the corner of the building so they could see where the other kids were going in. They headed that way, and I hopped back in the van to get out of the way for other parents. I stopped briefly to chat with another mom, when we were interrupted.
Other mom: What? Does she need your mom? (Alex’s voice in the background.) Okay. (to me) I think Erin is crying.
Great. So I park and jog over. She is standing on the sidewalk, big tears on her face. The one who has been SO excited for school was suddenly struck by the magnitude of what she was about to do, and she got scared. I gave her a hug, and she cried on my shoulder (and this is where my tears started, too).
“Do you need me to walk in with you?” She nodded yes, so we joined the mass influx of children and I got them to the hallway. Alex walked right down, never looked back. Erin started down, and another lady who was standing there came to her to make sure she got to her room. I’m sure it took her all of 8 minutes to be excited again once inside the classroom, but for those few moments, it was just too much.
And it was a bit much for me, too. A broken arm, the ER, not enough sleep, my twins off to Kindergarten, the stress and drama just came crashing down. I’m sure everyone thought I was one of those moms who just boo-hoos because she can’t bear to let her kids go. Nope. But there’s only so much one can handle and my Erin-girl’s tears put me over the edge.
Anyway, I got home finally and Eric had turned on Frozen for Megan. I told him about Erin’s tears. He told me Megan had made him read her The Giving Tree (which we can barely get through on a good day!). There was a minute or two of sadness, and then back to the rush.
Eric hung with the littles while I got Meg’s prescription filled and went to the grocery. I scheduled the appointment for her to get her cast. I called the school to find out when I might expect their bus to show (it was 20 minutes late). I kept on writing furiously when I could while Eric worked outside some more. The kids got home, and we finally made it to the end of the first day of Kindergarten. Praise Jesus.
It was not the start I was planning for. But it was an adventure…that’s for sure. And hard as it was, God was working and helping and making a way. But hopefully, the rest of the year will be much less crazy!
Y’all Gotta Try This!
So I don’t usually do product plugs, but y’all…this one has been A.maz.ing.
It’s called We Choose Virtues. It’s designed to help you introduce and teach your kids to think about and live out 12 basic virtues: being Attentive, Content, Diligent, Forgiving, Gentle, Helpful, Honest, Kind, Obedient, Patient, Perseverant, Self-Controlled.
And does it work? For us, it’s a resounding ‘YES’! Here’s why…
We’ve been talking about a lot of these ideas for a long time. But I’d been wanting to be more intentional about real-life application. I wanted my kids to really understand honesty, not just what it is, but why it’s so important. I wanted to introduce the concepts of choices and consequences, of how their actions and attitudes will have results, for other people and for themselves.
But I lacked the vocabulary. I know what all those virtues are, and I could even find Bible verses to match them. But getting them into my kids’ language – that’s what I was struggling to do.
Enter We Choose Virtues. It doesn’t DO the teaching of virtues. It’s still my job to work with my kids and make each virtue come to life for them. But it gives me a vocabulary that the children (5, 5, and 3) totally understand.
Let me give an example. We started with Honest. The card gives a positive definition: “I am a truth teller.” Then it gives a negative definition: “I am NOT a liar, a thief, or a cheater, and I don’t change the truth to get my way.”
So one random Wednesday morning, I decide to give it a whirl. They listen. They love the story of Hockey Stick Nick. It prompts actual conversation about telling the truth. We think of things Nick “could have” said (lies) and then what it would sound like for him to tell his mom the truth. They totally seem to get it. I think…cool!
And within two hours, we had used the Virtue vocabulary twice more. When someone gave an answer that seemed less than true, I asked, “Are you being honest?” Immediately, they stopped making eye contact, changed their story, and we slowly worked toward the truth.
My favorite example came a few days later. Megan was boohoo-ing in my bedroom, holding a coloring page. “They told me I didn’t color it good, and they gave me a zero!” Sure enough, on the back of her page, a big circle. As soon as she said it, Erin came running with her excuse: “Well, I drew it, but it isn’t a zero. It was supposed to be a smiley face, but…um…I forgot to put the face in.” Wow…impressive cover story for a 5 year old. I nearly laughed out loud. Still, a “Are you being a truth teller?” brought a complete change. She dipped her head, dropped her eye contact, totally stuck between her story and her desire not to be caught in a lie. We dealt with the situation, but again, I was amazed. The vocabulary provided by the We Choose Values program had given me exactly the right tools to deal with the dishonesty.
That’s what this program gives you: tools. There are others similar programs out there, and they might work better for you. But this one has worked fantastically for us so far. My kids remember the definitions (before starting Patient last night, we reviewed, and they remembered all 3 of the previous ones easily). Opportunities for conversation come up daily – many, many times! I can’t even tell you how many times we’ve covered Patient just since last night, though that could be because this is a virtue I still struggle with – Ha!
Still, if you are looking for a vocabulary, this is a great option. Again, it doesn’t do the work. You have to weave the concepts into your day. But the tools have been so effective for my family that I think they can be used for similar families or situations, too.
So, check out the website: https://wechoosevirtues.refersion.com/c/af34
Each Virtue has a positive definition, a negative definition, and a character who illustrates that value. There are kids cards, parent cards, assessments, wall posters and coloring pages. The program can be done with Bible verses or without. And it’s set up for families, Sunday Schools, or even homeschool/classrooms.
And for the sake of full disclosure, that is an affiliate link, and I’ll get like 10% of whatever you buy when you use that link. BUT, please let me be clear. I am not recommending this product to get a percentage. It really has worked, and I refused to write this post until I was sure I could support the program without reservation (I bought it a couple of months ago).
I truly do believe this program is worth your money. So check it out if you’re interested, but no worries if you don’t buy anything. If you have questions, let me know. Feel free to start small (I bought the Family Pack). But so far, I have been most impressed, and I have been better prepared to parent my kids in the way they need to go because of the tools this program offers.
10 Years, 17 Months
Today is a big day in our house.
One one hand, today marks our ten-year anniversary. I hear the old fashioned way to celebrate is a gift in tin or aluminum. The ‘modern’ list mentions diamond jewelry. We went the pizza-for-dinner, watch-a-movie-with-the-kids route instead (Rio was the movie, in case you were wondering). And Eric bought me flowers. Let’s just say he knows me pretty well by now, so he bought me flowers I can plant outside and not feel guilty about forgetting to water them.
And we did spend some time looking at pictures from that crazy day. The kids enjoyed seeing us. Alex wanted to know why we looked so different (I told him it’s because I haven’t slept for 5 years. ;-)) Mostly I’m just thankful we could look at the pictures because for some reason we could not find them on the computer (we did finally find the cds and got them uploaded where we can back them up regularly…whew!)
Of course, I can do all the “can’t believe it’s been 10 years” and “wow, we’ve been through so much” and that would be true. But I’ll just say this: in the last decade, we’ve done a lot of fun stuff and some hard stuff (like the first six months of parenting twins). But in the last year, we stepped it up a notch, stepped out, together, to try for something more than we had before. It’s been harder than I could have imagined. But it is ours. And I cannot imagine doing this life with anyone other than Eric Hogue. He grounds me. He puts up with my crazy ups-n-downs. He never, ever complains. And I’m so very grateful for these years. I hope to have many, many more. But for tonight, I’m just so glad I have all the memories we’ve made and I have his hand to hold.
On a different note…on the other hand, to complete the parallel structure from above… today is also the day that Timmy turns 17 months old! What a crazy, funny, wonderful little guy he is, too.
He’s in that stage of frustration. He knows what he wants. But pointing and grunting isn’t working anymore. He jabbers, thinking he’s saying something real, repeating the same syllables with the same inflections, over and over. But…it means nothing. I’m really hoping we see a huge leap forward in his verbal skills soon.
Of course, there are some words that he can do. He does “down” a lot. Also “done.” And “fishy” is pretty clear these days. He does call me by name, though it’s always “da mama.” Eric was “Da-doh” for a while, but now it’s slipping into “ba-ba,” which is odd because Timmy has a clear word for my dad which is “pa-pa.” And they’re clearly not the same word. So I’m not sure what the connection is. But it makes sense to Tim. Sometimes he seems to have an actual name for Erin, and sometimes Alex. But Megan’s got nothing yet.
He LOVES books. Loves them. He will sit and flip through the books, pointing out the pictures and hearing the words over and over. He just discovered a Rainbow Fish color book that he reads constantly. And he loves to make elephant sounds. Occasionally we can get a cow sound, but it comes out “boo” and he does no other animals sounds at all.
The boy never walks. He runs. Always. You put him down, he puts one foot out in front and then he runs until he falls down or gets where he meant to go. He climbs everything. Falls off of things regularly. He eats markers. Eats.them. And he still loves to put on play hats whenever he gets the chance. He plays chase and very desperately wants to be big enough to do the stuff Alex can do. In a couple of years, we will have quite a duo of boy-ness to enjoy.
Timmy loves to be outside. He loves to swing (but prefers the big kids’ swings). He’s already figured out how to let himself out the door (not good for me) and get back in (better for me), but he would stay outside all day if he could. He likes to ‘drive’ things, turning steering wheels and messing with levers or knobs. We’re working to break his addiction to electronics (he likes that he can touch the pictures and something happens), but he’s better than he used to be.
Really, at 17 months, he’s just a sweet and fabulous little man. I’m so glad he still likes to snuggle, especially at bedtime. And he’s still my jolly soul. He’s got a laugh that will melt your heart. But he’s definitely growing up. I’m just so glad to be along for his ride. So very, very glad.
So yes, today is a big day in our house. 10 years and 17 months. Can’t wait to see where we go from here!