King Josiah

A few months ago Jeremy made up a story about "King Josiah" and his pet monkey, whom Josiah named Hannah (after his aunt). They collaborated together to fight and triumph over a bad tiger. Since then, Josiah sometimes asks for a retelling of this story, and he loves to commission drawings of "King Josiah" and "Hannah the Monkey" and the "tiger caught by his tail in the tree." ("You draw King Josiah, Mama," he says. I get lots of unpaid art commissions from the King.) I'm not sure it's related to this story or the Biblical one about the boy king (which Josiah quite enjoys and finds very special), but he certainly takes a royal attitude some days, even toward the forces of nature (see the paragraphs below).

"Fishing" off Daddy's bench on the patio

Often on car rides--especially longer trips to Flagstaff and back--Josiah complains about the sun being in his eyes. But his complaints are typically directed at the sun itself. "STOP IT, SUN!" he yells. "Stop shining! Stop it! Stop shining in my eyes!" He keeps this up in an angry and elevated tone, accompanied by punches directed at the sun. I've tried to explain many a time that the sun is not an animate being and cannot hear, acknowledge, or address Josiah's grievance. It doesn't work. (He also yells at the wind when we're riding bikes--"Stop it, Wind! Stop blowing!")

When Josiah is in no-nap-meltdown mode during a car trip, everything has the potential to offend him. On our way up to Flagstaff several weeks ago, he started yelling, "Stop it, cars! Stop driving!" Every new car that passed us (or that we passed) renewed his railing against them. He got pretty worked up about the fact that the cars kept driving despite his commands to the contrary.

In the last few days Josiah has added "so" and "huge" to his everyday vocabulary. He likes to speak and act in the superlative, so these are helpful modifiers for him. Now he's not just tired, hungry, mad, sad, etc. He's so hungry, so sad. And he now wants "huge-huge" cookies, ice cream cones, pieces of cake, or whatever other dessert he can think up to request (whether real or imagined). Sometimes he even wants a "huge-huge-huge" one.

When dessert is a topic of discussion, Josiah claims to be a "big boy" (because big boys get bigger portions than little boys). But if we're not dishing out ice cream or cake, Josiah still typically says he's a little boy. Yesterday he informed me, "I'm just a little boy, Mama. I can't reach stuff."

I think he looks so much like Jeremy in this one

And this looks like one of Jeremy's childhood faces, too

This evening Jeremy read a Bill Peet book to Josiah that had different exotic animals in it. Josiah was clambering and bouncing around and stopping to look at the pictures. He stood up at one point, pointed to the giraffe in the picture, threw back his head, and laughed very loudly. "AHAHAHAHAHAHAH!" he said. "I'm laughing at the giraffe! AHAHAHAHA!"

Laughing and tugging at his fishing pole while I pretend to be a stickleback on the other end

I saved the gross stuff for last, so if you don't want to read about poop, you can stop here.

Josiah loves to visit the potty during his "book time" because it means he can leave the table--and possibly get me to read him an entire book while he sits, uninterrupted by his sisters. The other day I was reading and he was trying to eke out something on the potty. He was modestly successful; he looked in and suddenly burst out, "I have spicy poop! It has hot peppers in it!" (I have no idea where this thought came from. I asked if he had eaten hot peppers, and he looked confused. I think he doesn't yet understand that what goes in is what comes out.)

Today Josiah visited the bathroom innumerable times. I'm glad he's trying to use the potty more, but this whole process wears me out! Sometimes I just want to tell him to pee in his diaper rather than going through the bathroom ordeal for a few drops of pee in the potty. He told me about 10 times this morning that he had to poop on the potty, and he got a tiny turd out only one of those times. So the 11th time he claimed to need to poop on the potty (during naptime, no less), I was suspicious and a bit disgruntled. But he came through and actually pooped this time, and in his excitement over the promised chocolate chips exclaimed, "My poop dancin'! I love you, Mama!" and kissed my hand.

And finally, some gratuitous shots of our boy . . . because he really is just that cute.

Sick Day

Poor Lydia was the last to succumb to the most recent round of sickness in our house (some sort of cold--fever and runny nose). Yesterday she was on the mend but felt pretty low by dinnertime, when her fever had returned. I was trying to cook dinner, and in an attempt to be as close to me as possible, she just lay down on the gel mat at my feet and sucked her thumb. Abby (who had kicked the fever several days before and felt just fine and dandy!) found this strange and interesting--and obviously thought her services were needed . . . 

Abby gets down to Lydia's level to assess the situation

Maybe kisses will help?

Or stroking the head?

The head-stroking involved quite a few passes at Lydia's eyes. Abby can say "eyes" and is very interested in them, especially when they're so conveniently accessible!

Crazy Nurse Abby: If this face won't heal you, what will?

The pitiful patient

Newest Cousin

"Babies abound," quoth Justin--before he found out he and Anna were expecting one of their own! Now their little Kezia is 3.5 weeks old and just as sweet as she can be. We got to meet her last weekend.

Oh, the hair, the lips, the cheeks . . . she makes me want to have a newborn again! 

 Mama and Baby (or as Josiah just said when he saw this picture, "That's Anna and Roo!")

 What a stretch! And just look at that hairstyle. :)

 "I've got my eye on you! (No, I can't be bothered to open both.)"

 Lydia was a little too rough to be trusted.

 Auntie a second time over!

 Family of three!

 I love this one. :)

Three's a Crowd

Sometimes I feel crowded out of my own mind by these three. There is no rest for the weary around here. When Josiah was a baby, I could at least mentally check out for a bit, read a few paragraphs of a book while he nursed, or catch a bit of a nap myself when he slept (except when I had grading to do . . .). Not anymore, Madame! I love being with them, but at the same time I dream almost every day of driving somewhere to be alone and quiet.

"Quiet? Why would Mama want quiet? Let's all bang on the piano at the same time!"

But what are sleep and quiet and sanity to the great task of raising three little people? The anecdotes I jot down in memory to tell Jeremy at the end of the day--and hope to remember long enough to tell you in a blog post--are a way of treasuring up all these things and pondering them in my heart. With the heap of little happenings in a day, remembering and retelling is probably a good exercise for my brain. But more than that, it's a good discipline for my heart and will. When I remind myself of the little stories and funny sayings and joys and difficulties, I remind myself of the imago dei of my children. They are little people--infinitely more valuable than the laundry and dishes.

"It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses," says C. S. Lewis in The Weight of Glory, warning us never to think we have talked to a "mere mortal." My children are immortals: "immortal horrors or everlasting splendors" in the end. To which end am I helping them moment by moment?

Those moments sometimes seem infinite in their monotony, in the repetition of disobedience, in the thousand questions, in the messes, in the constant effort to calm tempers (mine included). In the midst of the moments, I want the old ladies in the store to be right: "These years fly by so fast, honey," they tell me. It's hard not to smile a little ruefully when they add, "Enjoy every moment!"

Oh, I'm no stranger to the fleetingness of time. I can't believe Josiah is already almost three. The girls are starting to talk. They're a little trio of trouble together. What happened to those babyhood days?

Yes, Old Ladies, there's lots of fun and joy. But in the heat of a given moment, the exhaustion and hardness of it all often trump the enjoyment.

I'm a little closer to the old ladies' perspective when the babes are abed. (Absence makes the heart grow fonder?) Then I can laugh at those moments with Jeremy, I can write up funnies in a blog post, I can plan a better response for next time. Then I can see the moments as infinite not in their monotony but in their eternal significance, and this helps me regain a little sanity and gear up to love the kids for another day. These little immortals are worth my time (which Lewis would be quick to remind me isn't mine at all anyway!).


Well, onto the fun stuff . . . some of those moments recorded for your enjoyment and my benefit:

1. Many times a day Josiah reports on his emotions. "I'm sad, Mama," he'll say with a long face. (Usually if I ask why, he'll say, "I'm sad Pa, Grandma leave" or "I'm sad Daddy leave.") Today it was, "I'm so sad, Mama!"

If we're reading a book and a character or event is sad, though, he'll plaster on a smile and say, "I'm happy, Mama!" (It's as if he needs to reassure himself that all's right with his world despite the sadness of the story--it's interesting to see.)

Sometimes he looks for reciprocal emotion in me: "I'm sad, Mama. You sad, Mama?" or "I'm happy, Mama. You happy, Mama?"

Quite often he says, with an accompanying grimace, "I'm mad!" Most likely he goes onto say, "I'm mad at Mama!"

Happy Josiah

He told me this was his "mad face"

2. A few weeks ago Josiah was digging a hole by his sandbox and piling up dirt next to it. "I'm buildin' a big tower, Mama," he said, ". . . the Tower of Babel!"

3. A couple weeks ago we went to the zoo with Grandma Dortha, who came down for a few days for meetings and spent some time with us. Josiah and Lydia loved petting the goats most of all. Abby was terrified of them and clung desperately to my neck if I tried to put her down or get close to a goat. In addition to other animals, we saw the squirrel monkeys--another highlight for Josiah, because we can go right into their area and walk along paths to watch them scurry across ropes, scale trees, and sometimes leap right in front of us. The morning after the zoo, I was nursing Lydia and Josiah was looking at books for "book time." I don't remember if I denied a request or something that instigated this, but regardless, I was taken aback when he said, "I'm mad at Mama! I want to lock Mama in jail . . . in the monkey house!"

Lydia

 She's still the girl with the tongue!

4. Lydia and Abby are trying to say more and more words. Last week Abby said "hat" (though without pronouncing the final "t"--but obviously with understanding, since she patted her head and clearly wanted to wear one!). Lydia says "Daddy," "doggie," and "dolly" all about the same way, skipping over the double consonants so all three sound like "da-ee," with slight variations on the initial vowel. I can usually figure out what she means in context.

Lydia on the left, Abby on the right

5. Abby makes kissing sounds when giving or receiving kisses now. She's started trying to coordinate the blowing and hand motions of blowing kisses, but hasn't quite got it down. Lydia still does just the "lean in" for hugs and kisses. But it's still sweet! Just in the last few days Lydia has attempted to blow kisses, though. First she'd put her palm up against my lips so I could kiss it and blow it that way. Then she started doing the blowing part by herself (minus the palm-to-her-lips, though). The other night she stood in her crib while I nursed Abby and put her hand up to her mouth, then did raspberries. Close enough!

Abby with her shovels--she loves to carry them around outside and objects loudly if a sibling tries to take one!

6. Lydia woke up from the afternoon nap before Abby and Josiah a couple days in a row last week. The first day, I took her outside with me to fetch the mail, and then we played in the backyard together for a while. The second day, I pulled her out of her crib and went into the living room. I asked her if she wanted to nurse, which usually provokes a frantic pulling of my shirt (or her signing "milk") and accompanying sounds that indicate the answer is "yes." This time, though, she pushed against me, scrunched up her face in her trademark disgruntled look, and said a two-syllable word. I asked if she wanted to read a book and sat on the couch. Nope--she squirmed and whined. I let her get down, and she went straight to the back door and said that same two-syllable word that sounded a little like "outside"! Going outside is at the top of Lydia's lists of loves--it even trumps nursing after nap!

Lydia takes after her brother in her eagerness to join in Daddy's projects outside

Lydia mowing the lawn!

7. Josiah has been singing on his own a lot lately--usually [not very melodious] renditions of songs I've sung to him or that he's heard on CDs we play, but some of his own creation, too. The other day he sang out, "I love you, Mama! I love you, Mama!" (with a cluck cluck of his tongue after the second line). Of course, this warmed my heart! But about a minute later he was displeased with me about something and said, "I'm mad at Mama!" with scrunched eyebrows and a set to his mouth. I responded, "But you were just singing about how you loved me!" He thought for a second and said, "I love you, Mama, but I'm a little bit mad at you."

8. While Josiah isn't yet into the "why" stage, he's solidly in the "what" stage--meaning he incessantly asks me "what" about something: "What's this, Mama? Whatcha doin', Mama? What you have in your mouth, Mama? What's that guy, Mama? What's that car, Mama? Whatcha make for lunch, Mama? What's that little boy, Mama? What Abby have, Mama?"

"Where" questions are also popular. He employs both types to attempt to delay the moment he's left alone in bed. Tonight he pointed at the ceiling and said, "What's that, Mama?" I told him it was the shadow of the rocking chair. "It's a bad shadow, Mama?" he asked.

At bedtime he also commonly asks me more than one of the following questions: "Where Daddy? What's Daddy doin'? What you do, Mama? Where the tigers? Where the lions? Where the hippos? Hippos in fresh water? Where Bitzer? Where Abby, Li-la? Where my drink? Where Fluffly [his stuffed dog from Aunt Em and Uncle James]? Where Lamby? What's that noise? Where my rope? . . ."

Stylin'

These girls know they look cool in sunglasses . . .

Laundry Helpers

Like their brother before them, the girls like to find the dryer door open. They've hauled themselves into the dryer once before (yes, both of them together). 

Lydia on the left, Abby on the right

After they tried to climb in the dryer, Lydia had fun trying to close the door on Abby. They got a kick out of the fact that they could see each other through the door.

"I see you!"

Lydia squashing Abby