I love this boy.

Connor turns seven years old tomorrow and all of the sudden seven seems much older than six did and way older than five did. I would like to say that in the last seven years I have gained some sort of secret mom knowledge into who Connor is and how his brain works, but I really can't. I can, however, say this: after seven years I have come to understand and accept that I will never fully get Connor and that his mysterious mind is part of his charm.

There is one word that describes the last seven years: Humbling.

Humbling because I've had to eat every word I ever said about some out of control kid. Humbling because I've felt that judgement from other parents. Humbling because I know that other parents look at Connor and think "if they just took a firmer hand with that kid he would behave." Humbling because if I don't understand my kid, how will the rest of the world even stand a chance?

But it is also humbling in a different way. Humbling because God has entrusted this smart and amazing little handful to me and Ben. Humbling because He gave us this child to bring up in the faith. Humbling because even though we have to deal with the bad times, we get the tremendous blessing of the good.

Yes, I can expect notes home, principal visits, and phone calls from school, but I can also expect him to know his sight words as soon as he gets them and to randomly say things like "twenty goes into 100 five times."

Sure he may throw himself into the depths of despair because a leaf he had been saving for two weeks has finally wilted into oblivion, but he will also throw himself into writing a story in his journal about what the life of that little leaf must have been like.

It can be frustrating when I realize that every roll of tape in the house has been obliterated, only to become amazing when I discover that he used the tape to hang up pictures of hundreds of different hand drawn animals for his very own zoo adventure.

He may be the worst kid during chapel time at school or during church, but he can also tell you all about Jesus and his death for our sins.

Being this boy's parents is a tough job, but so worth it.

Happy 7th birthday Connor. We are both terrified and excited for what the next seven years will bring!

Sophie's Walking Tour

The kids and I walk around town quite a bit. It is a small town and we can walk to lots of the things we need, plus it gets us out of the house, and is kind of like exercise. (We walk at a really slow pace, so I don't think it full on qualifies as exercise).

Throughout the course of the summer, Sophia has established landmarks on our walks. It was pretty nice today (70 degrees!) and I figure that our walking days are winding down.

As such, it is my pleasure to bring you the city of Atchison through the eyes of a two year old.

Enjoy Sophie's description of the various sights about town.

" There's our church where Dad becoming pastor."

 The little tour guide herself.

 "Oh No! Watch out for that lion!!!" (Yeah...I don't get it either).

 "Look! It's Christmas! Hello Christmas!"

 "I want a soda!" (She is such a little Hoosier - we say Pop)

 "There's the castle!" (It is really the post office)

 "Oh, that is so cute. It is just so cute."

 "There is that sad lion." (Then she usually pretends to eat it...you know, like you do).

 "Turtle! I see that Turtle!"

"There is the Y. We go to the Y?" (We go almost everyday, so it is one of her favorites).

And there you go. That is Atchison according to Sophia Jane. 

I give up.

Brushing Sophia's hair is hard. It isn't even the yelling and screaming (although that isn't my favorite). It is mostly the way that she moves her head all around the whole time so that after five minutes of brushing her hair I am actually further away from tangle free hair than I was when I started. 

Today on a whim I decided to throw in the towel. I'm sick of it. She's sick of it. So maybe this long hair thing can wait a year or two. 

If the haircut doesn't win you over, those big brown eyes just might. 

Like Minds

At least roughly thirty seven times a day Sophia comes up to me and asks me one the following questions:

"Mom, Are you thinking what I thinking?"

or, as a variant,

"Mom, Am I thinking what you thinking?"

This morning I have observed Sophia doing the following activities.

1. She rode around a broom for about twenty minutes saying "Giddy up Cowboy."
2. She came up to me and said "Hey there, I'm Annie, how you doing?"
3. She piled every pillow, blanket, toy, shoe, and book she could find onto the floor and proceeded to have a "nap" on them. 
4. She moved every thing that had been piled up on the floor to the couch and said "Don't worry Mom, I building something."
5. Later she threw her cup into the sink and said "Fine! Whatever! I said Fine!!!!" to no one. 
6. Then she wanted to watch She-Ra.

It appears the answer to both of her questions is a resounding no.