Shift Key Confusion

Joel drew a heart and put the words, "Dad, Mom, Joel" inside. He came to me and asked how to do the seven on the shift key. I was not paying full attention to his question, so I assumed.

"You mean how to spell it? S-e-v-e-n," I said, writing it.
"No, I mean like on the shift key."
Again, I manufactured an meaning. "OH, "seven" in capital letters?" I wrote that for him.
"No, I don't mean that. I mean like cursive on the shift key." Once more, I was confused. I was thinking "cursive font in captitals," so I wrote that.

He was getting exasperated, and I wasn't any closer to closing the brain gap.

"UH! I MEAN, the SHIFT KEY and the SEVEN that looks like this" (he drew something akin to a treble clef note.

EUREKA!

FINALLY it dawned on me. "Oh, the and sign?!"

"Yes! he cheered. "The and sign. Like Dad, Mom, & Joel." He was talking about the ampersand. Duh. So I taught him that word and he was duly excited.

I was thinking, "Wow, kid. I didn't know how to use the ampersand on the typewriter (yes I'm dating myself) until typing class in high school! Let alone remember that it's on the 7 key when I'm NOT typing!

Tear-free Shampoo is Good, but--

Joel was using his favorite shampoo (Suave for Kids, Cowabunga Coconut scent)yesterday in the shower as I helped him. He likes it because it smells great and is tear-free.

However, a few seconds after lathering it up, he sneezed. Once, then twice.

He concluded out loud, "They should make sneeze-free shampoo."

Ebay Mom

This afternoon Joel was being a real pest. You know how overtiredness just gets them obnoxious. So he, my sweet and precious angel baby, was bothering his big brother big time. I told him sternly, "Lay down on the bed. Just stay there till I tell you to get up."

He grumped and snarled and said, "I hate when you do this."

"I don't like when you do what you've done, honey. It's not right or good."

"Would you like me to buy another mom?" he threatened.

"Another mom? Where would you buy one?" I asked, trying not to smile.

'On eBay," he said. "They sell 'em."

We both cracked up, and he came running to me and threw his arms around me. "I love you, sweet Mommy," he said.

"I love you, too, sweet baby, but I didn't tell you could get up out of bed. I'm not going to change my mind just because you're all huggy-kissy and funny."

"You're not?"

"No. Maybe an eBay mom would, but not me."

In Good Hands

When Ben was three months old we went camping with a church group at Cunningham Falls in western Maryland.

I felt no fear about hiking and climbing as long as Paul was holding the baby close.

This is exactly how I picture myself in God's arms. So safe I can sleep while He does the carrying.

Benjie Jumping

Okay, so it's not a bungee jump, but it was his extreme sport of choice at age six months. I took this page from a scrapbook.

Baby Ben, 1988

Here's my baby Ben. The year was 1988. The event was Christmas. We just loved watching him open his presents because he was 9 months old and capable of appreciating a few (cheap) things. Boxes mostly, but he also was at that age of cause-and-effect fun.

I love this boy. It helps to take trips down Memory Lane to refresh the joys of motherhood. I remember this feeling of my cheek against his soft, wispy hair. I wish I could remember his giggle. It was priceless. Now it's deep and contagious, and still he has those wonderful dimples like his dad.

Father/son Moment 1989

One of my favorite pictures ever. Paul was so thrilled to be a dad, it was always hard for him to say goodbye to us in the morning. (Well, I exaggerate. I'm sure many days he was more than glad to go off to a less chaotic environment for 8 diaper-free hours.) But his homecoming at 5:10 every night was the highlight of my day, when he'd set his briefcase down, dial the combination, and watch Ben jump with excitement when the buttons would pop open and he could explore the contents inside. (Or at least peek. We weren't dumb enough to give him free rein. We were dumb about many things, but we learned on Ben. Poor kid. Probably explains a lot!) I find it heartwarming that Ben took an early interest in business (Daddy's briefcase) and now it's his major.

"Son of my Right Hand"

"He's such a happy baby!" everyone would say about Ben.
He smiled a lot, for sure. Maybe because he made me so happy and I was around him all day.

His name means "son of my right hand." Sure, the biblical meaning has more depth, but I tease him that ever since he was old enough to hold a vacuum hose, I gave him one of my jobs! To this day he has the cleanest room in the house. I kid you not.

Aren't those dimples just the cutest?

Ben, Way Back When

My firstborn, Benjamin Paul, will be 19 years old this month. This picture was taken when he was probably about 10-11 months old. (He didn't walk till 13 months, when I brought home baby sister Sarah.) He had three favorite toys: any ball, a play station (of sorts--the one in this picture) and Daddy's guitar. Not much has changed! Talk about a child's "bent." It's fun to look back and see the buds of personality and interests.

I remember thinking how mobile he was, how exhausting to chase, making sure he didn't hurt himself. Never imagined what it'd be like to wait up past midnight waiting for him to come home. His loud music in the car (which he claims is "so low, how can anyone in the neighborhood even hear it?), the garage door opening , signaling his homecoming. All things I'd miss if he weren't here but need grace for while he is.

This is How Much I...

Today Joel was helping Sarah declutter her room. I was at the computer. He handed me an index card that had a column of numbers on it. (It was a list of wreaths I sold for different amounts, and the total.)

The bottom line said 500.

He said, "Mom, do you need this?"

I looked it over and said, "No, it just shows how much I--"

"Weigh?" he asked.

Check this Out

Our whole family gets a kick daily out of Joel. He really lights up our lives.
Sarah, our 17 year old, wrote something she loves about him. Check it out at www.77thpsalm.blogspot.com. (Her blog is called Homeward Bound. My link button isn't working right today.)

Out of Your Own Head

Last night was the first in over two weeks that I felt well enough to cook a good meal. I felt so much better, in fact, that I treated my family to a meal of New York steak that I marinated with a little bit of this and that. Real mashed potatoes, a colorful salad with homemade honey mustard dressing, and--with Joel's help--a bright and artistically arranged platter of canteloupe, strawberries and bananas.

While we were working alongside each other, Joel says to me, "Did you get this from Rachael Ray or did you think of it out of your own head?"