Lemonade stand

Every summer Henry is drawn to the idea of setting up a lemonade stand.  One year he helped another friend manage a stand.  “I was in charge of the money and talking with the people.”  Last year he and a neighbor boy took their show on the road and went door to door selling the sweet stuff.  “It just made sense, this way we don’t have to wait for people to come to us, we bring the lemonade to them!”

Last week we finally set up the real deal in our own front yard.  I took all three boys to our local grocery store where Henry compared prices on red solo cups and lemonade.  We made a couple of signs, mixed up our lemonade and Henry was officially in business.

For two days Henry manned his stand, sometimes alone or with brothers, cousins and friends; really whoever stopped by.  Much lemonade was sold and spilled and little boys laughed and counted quarters, all of which I’m pretty sure are signs of a successful lemonade stand.

Baseball Superstar

Henry’s hung up his baseball cleats for the season, but I’m certain there will be plenty more baseball in our future.  As a special treat, his team got to play one of their last games on the girls softball field up at the high school.  {It’s the same high school my brothers and I went to, and the school all three boys will attend, although they get the perk of a brand-new building.}

It was a treat to watch the boys step wide-eyed onto a *professional* field.  I also realize that in a blink of an eye we’ll be back up here cheering Henry on as a high-school baseball player.

But let’s not rush things.  Even if he is growing up so darn fast.

It has been a blast this season to watch our little guy turn into a real baseball player.  Not surprisingly Henry’s pretty darn good.  He is a tenacious player {he gets that from his mom} as well as a social player {from his dad.}  Somehow this all translates into a darling boy who can catch pop-flies, hits doubles, fields well, cheers on his team and leads the pack.  I suppose it sounds like I’m bragging {Ok, just a little} but it’s just so darn amazing to watch your little ones grow and thrive and become the most amazing people.

Next year will bring with it real pitchers, much older kids and serious coaches.  I think Henry will be just fine.

And just like that Henry is 7

Geoff and Amy this was a big birthday highlight…

Seven?!  Could time please slow down?

The thing is, Henry is all seven year-old boy.  He is reading like a champ, soaking up everything school has to offer.  He can’t get enough baseball, his glove and ball always at the ready.  You can often find him down the street shooting hoops at the neighbor’s house.  And while I know he is ready to move away from some of the *little kid* games his brothers love he still happily plays right alongside them.  Of course the best part is that he still loves to snuggle with his mom.  He always says good-bye and I love you at drop-off and at pick-up runs to give me a hug and willingly holds my hand.  I find myself often taking mental snapshots during the day with Henry, willing myself to remember and hold on to each precious memory as he grows into a wonderfully strong boy.  He is a blessing in every way.

We celebrated our boy for a good majority of the month of May.  It was never over the top, instead it was the perfect combination of little family events and his first celebration with *friends.*

During his party I, of course, was running around refereeing water-gunfights and ensuring that each child was eating the right food {there were four kiddos with food allergies} Thanks to my sister-in-law Corey for taking on the roll of photographer.

so this picture is notable for two reasons: ::one:: the m & m’s came in snack size bags, but one broke open.  william made it his personal goal to pick up and each m & m left on the ground foregoing the mad dash for the rest of the pinata candy…and ::two:: apparently our grass is thirsty…

Rookie League.

We are smack dab in the middle of little league season. Between a practice or two a week, along with two to three games also tossed into the mix, you will most likely find us at the little league fields cheering for Henry.  I’d like to say we actually sit and watch the games but with fans Charlie and William also in attendance it isn’t much of a spectator sport for us just yet.

Henry and his buddy Mark the first baseman.

Henry’s favorite position to play is catcher. 

Spell it out for me.

It’s funny, the more I do this – writing about our life – the more I find myself spending time on the little things.  Birthday parties and big moments all get their time in the spotlight, but there is brilliance in the ordinary.  Sometimes I forget to look for the simple beauty in this life, but lately its all I can see.  I’m quite certain that God has been intentional about stopping me in my tracks and making sure that I see the beauty all around me, right in the middle of my ordinary day.

I’m also certain that He has given me this gift because there have been some pretty big milestones thrown into our days for good measure.  He knows me well.

Ready for a good story?  So…about a month ago I decided to try something novel.  Instead of laying out my laundry list of requests for God, I simply told Him my need.  Of course I pointed out that He would probably need to spell out every single detail of His plan, otherwise I’d most certainly default to my own plans.  I also explained that I might resist His calling {especially if it required change} so He was going to have to make each and every step obvious.  Trust is hard.

Nervously we took the first step, looking ahead to second-grade and called our local elementary school to set up an appointment.  Surprising ourselves, Alex and I fell in love easily pictured our son Henry there as a student.  The very same school that my brothers and I also went to.  A school that is literally three blocks from our house.

One morning, out of the blue Henry announced: Mom, I want to go to a school where I sit at my own desk and the teacher tells me what to do.  I want to go to Apple Valley now.
Here sat my son, my sweet baby, who had struggled all school year-long; had lost his enthusiasm for learning and he was basically spelling things out for his poor mother.  I know, it seems obvious right?  My son instinctively knew what was best for him and I was still hesitant?

Yet change is hard and tricky, and while I tried to rationalize our current situation, I simply knew it wasn’t for Henry.  I felt justified in my feet dragging, because who actually switches schools for their first-grader mid-year? Crazy people that’s who.  But He was persistent.

The next thing I knew we were all sick.  Remember the whole strep/hospital fiasco?  Surely this was a sign, a big red *do not move forward* stop sign.  Right?  Or perhaps, this was the Lord working in a rather unusual situation?  I can’t even begin to explain the phone call I received from the elementary principal the week after Henry was sick, but still home recovering.  Were we going to make the switch? she asked.  Yes, I replied, all loose ends had been tied up at the old school, but I was still a nervous nelly.  And right when I needed reassurance the most, every little detail was covered and provisions were made, right down to Henry’s new teacher.  The very same woman who taught my brother Andy first-grade.  And her mother, was my preschool teacher.  Call me crazy, but it felt like the Lord was taking our tough situation – a rough school year and Henry being sick and missing over a week of school – and providing us with an unusual yes, but seemless transitional time and opportunity.  So we made the move.

Charlie, William and I walk to school everyday to pick-up up Henry. 

Henry literally floats to school everyday.  His zeal and sparkle for life are back and better than ever.  His enthusiasm and desire to learn have grown exponentially.  He is in love with reading, which he previously fought us tooth and nail over.  I could go on and on.  And of course he loves his three recesses a day and has discovered the joy of a cheese zombie hot lunch.

As these big life changes seem to go, the process was difficult for me.  I didn’t know the plan, or what He was going to ask of us.  Yet had I followed my own plan I’m pretty sure I’d still be stuck in the I have a problem and I’m just going to sit and worry about it stage.  Looking back I wouldn’t change a thing.  Trusting Him is a tall order, but I’m learning that if we openly present Him with our needs {not our requests} great things can happen in His time.

Well that was unexpected.

Where do I even begin?

Something magical happened this week.  Sure we were feeling a bit under the weather, but we didn’t have a schedule to follow.  Our biggest decisions revolved around what movie to watch next or which stack of books to read.  The dress code required pajamas and/or yoga pants.  In the kitchen we’d moved into *survivor* mode.  Thankfully no one seemed to mind *breakfast for dinner* yet again, or that our only supply of fruits and veggies were now either frozen or canned.  Truthfully?  It was thrilling to circle the wagons, ignore the world and just be with my little ones.

So you can imagine my surprise when we found ourselves back at the doctor’s office on Thursday.  While Charlie and I responded quickly to our antibiotics, Henry did not.  Instead he was feverish, his neck was stiff and you could literally see his lymph nodes bulging from his neck.  And while all these symptoms should have been warning enough, it was more concerning that Henry, our live-out-loud, on-the-go and always hungry little one was more than happy to lie quietly on the couch all week.

waiting, waiting to see the doctor…

One moment we were singing the hokey-pokey, ring-around-the-rosey and Jesus loves me at the doctor’s office and the next moment I was leaving a voice message for Alex saying something like Hey, I don’t want to worry you but we’re headed to the hospital, they want to do a CT scan on Henry…

I won’t include all of the details, but our day did include a CT scan in which they found an abscess on the back of Henry’s tonsil.  Immediately they admitted our sweet boy into the hospital.  Doctors began talking about a four-day stay and even surgery, but first they were going to blast him with antibiotics.  Neither Alex nor I fully understood at that point why they were so concerned.  {We learned about the whole *it could grow and block his airway* thing later}  That was probably a good thing.

There is no way to describe how brave Henry was.  And funny.  He never once lost his humor or full-of-life personality.

Examples:  While two nurses, Alex and I were holding him as they put in his IV line, an aid stopped by with some plastic toy animals.  Henry adamantly declared: Do they really think those things are going to distract me?

Or after our *restful* night in the hospital and only two rounds of IV antibiotics:  Boy, that medicine really hits the spot!

Oh how I love my sweet Henry!  I was shocked at the fierce and protective love that bubbled to the surface.  Of course I love my children, but there are times when it just takes your breath away.  This was one of those times.

As is the case with most of our adventures there were a few things worth noting.  I was so thankful for my one-on-one time with Henry.  It’s rare for just the two of use to spend time together and we made the most out of our adventure.  Not once did I break down or panic.  No tears, no freak out moments.  I’m not pointing this out to draw attention to myself, but rather to point out the miracle.  He is at work in me as I mother my children which deserves a hearty Halleluia!

Little miracles unfolded all around us.  The Lord was at work.  People were storming the gates of heaven for our little guy, lifting him up in prayer.  Our possible four-day hospital stay turned into 24-hours as Henry responded positively to the antibiotics.  All of Henry’s hospital *goals* were met.  {Lots of visitors, a new toy, and of course many friends were made as our little guy held court with the nurses and doctors.} 

For some reason writing out the details of our little *adventure* makes it sound much more dramatic than it actually felt.  We were calm, Charlie and William were in good hands with Nana, Henry was well cared for, and we could literally feel the love and prayers of so many friends and family.  It was truly a blessing to watch little miracles unfold and witness God at work.  All too often we focus on our unanswered prayers – but this week – was one big answer to prayer.  The quiet week home with the boys, an unexpected hospital stay with Henry, his quick recovery, good health…there are so many miracle moments to be praising Jesus for.

Again, another reminder to myself…Libby there are miracles where you least expect them.  Trust Him.  Look for them.

Ready! Set! Goooo!

That’s how Charlie and William like to say it.  And whenever I need to get my ducks {or small children} in a row {out the door to school…} it always seems to work.

Today I have so many ducks I want to get in order maybe we should go with bullet points?

Ready! Set! Goooo!

Cutest random picture ever?  I think so…

::  Overheard by Alex while duck-hunting with Henry.  {I really wasn’t planning on a duck theme here, but let’s go with it…}

Fellow hunter to Henry:  Hey Henry, I just found this {very large and dead} bull frog.  Do you want to take it home and eat the frog legs?  {Alex, promised that he was teasing…}

Henry:  No, I don’t eat frog legs…pause….but I do eat elephant ears. 

Ha!  Elephant ears, you know, the kind at the fair.  For some reason I feel better confirming that.

::  Somehow, someway, Alex and I managed to sneak out-of-town in the midst of *snowmagedon* with friends for a looong weekend away.  And while all of the extra snow was dreamy for us skiers it sort of wreaked havoc on the grandparents left with all of our ducklings at home.  {this duck theme is getting old isn’t it?}

Thank goodness for Nana and Pop-pop who handled all of the school delays and closures like champs.  Henry was thrilled to shovel snow for days on end while Alex and I skied together for the first time in years.  {That probably sounds strange, but really we were all happy campers, well except for Nana, but her coffee pot broke half-way through the weekend so we’ll cut her some slack…}  We enjoyed five days filled to the brim with good food, an abundance of laughter, and wonderful friends.  I’m already in training for next year.

::  Alex and I watched Courageous last night.  Honestly I wasn’t sure what he would think.  It was very well done and I was pleasantly surprised that Alex enjoyed it too.  I might be stepping out on a limb here, but it would be pretty incredible for all families if every dad watched this movie.

::  I have a new favorite book I’ve been recommending to parents who recently had their child diagnosed with Down syndrome called A Good and Perfect Gift.  Faith, Expectations, and a Little Girl Named Penny.  There are a handful of books written by parents who have walked this journey – raising a child with Down syndrome – and while many have resonated with me, this story felt like my own.  It was so reassuring to know that I wasn’t the only one who had asked big questions of God, and wrestled with my faith in the wake of my son’s birth. This beautiful story is told by a mother who openly and honestly shares the early months following the birth of her daughter Penny.  Amy Julia Becker does not hesitate to share her stories of fear and healing and the road that led to full peace and acceptance of her daughter Penny, who of course was a good and perfect gift from the beginning.

:: In other ground-breaking news, I decided to try something that has been floating around blogland for a while.  The whole *What I wore Wednesday* thing where people take daily photos of themselves and share the details of their outfits.  I’d even read a handful of moms {here and here} who made the bold claim that they were *more inspired* to put together an outfit knowing that they were going to take a photo of themselves.  Needing some inspiration myself, I decided to give it a go.

I lasted one day.

::  Cabin fever has hit.  The snow has lost its luster {think brown slush} and it no longer seems magical putting on our snow boots, mittens, snow pants, coats, and hats for the 3,057th time.  And yet…it’s so worth it to pull everything back out and go outside.  Even for 10 minutes.  Even if its to play in the slush.  We are always happier, every single time.

::  Getting outside didn’t do the trick?  Still need a good laugh?  Read this.  I had tears running down my cheeks.  Hilarious.

Ok, ducks are in a row.  Time to start thinking about dinner…

Speaking of snow days…

Is there anything better than a snow storm and a garbage truck parked in front of your house?  Certainly not if you are William…

We’re in the midst of a pretty major snow storm around here.  The weather man said we might break some sort of record.  A record that will be measured in feet rather than inches.  Now, I’m all for a good snow storm – I love it all – the school delays and cancellations, shoveling, helping little hands and feet into mittens ten times a day.  However if you consider our plans for the end of this week this storm is quite comical.  Really.

Last Friday Henry and I had our own special snow day.  Every other week this winter his class is taking Friday off and heading to the ski slopes.  Many parents have helped to organize this day which includes group lessons with classmates, lunch together and then a free ski time in the afternoon.  It was pretty amazing to watch all of these grade-schoolers wrestle with their own ski gear, help and encourage each other no matter their skill level.

In the afternoon Henry and I headed out on our own.  This was probably a selfish move on my part – breaking away from the rest of the group – but I rarely get this sort of one-on-one time with my oldest son.  All too often I’ve found that Alex and I divide and conquer when it comes to the kids – he and Henry pair off and I take charge of the two little ones.  As a result, I’ve missed out on some fun adventures with Henry.  This time I was taking full advantage of our time together.

It was one of those days when you can’t stop talking about how beautiful everything looks.  The sun was shining, Mt. Rainier was out in all her glory, there was corduroy everywhere you looked and I was skiing with my son.  All over the darn mountain mind you.  He took me through the trees, down a black diamond and even into some powder.

He also cracked me up.  Multiple times.  Henry is a mixture of all things big and bold and bright in this life.  He is loud, funny, stubborn yet compassionate, and has more energy than any other person I have ever met.  He is also the only person I know who literally talks from the top of a run all the way down to the bottom.  I have no idea what he was saying, but he talked the entire time.  Funny boy. 

At one point in our afternoon, after getting off the chairlift, Henry turns to me and announces: Mom, I’m so embarrassed!  I can’t believe you didn’t ask the man we rode up with where he was from!  If you know Alex, or Pop-pop, both of whom Henry skis with often, then you also know that you always engage in some sort of conversation with the other people you are riding up with on the chairlift.

Heading back up the chair again, Henry elbows me whispering ask him where he is from! nodding towards the man sitting next to me.  I did, and we had a great conversation.

Sweet boy.