Baby boy.

Connor turns eight today. Eight! It is hard to imagine that he has been with us for so long, yet I can barely recall a time when he wasn't here.

I love my little guy. He may drive me crazy and I still don't really understand how to be his mom, but he is all mine, and I wouldn't trade him for anything.

I've decided for his birthday to spare you all a rambling post about what an awesome, strange, aggravating, and interesting kid Connor is. If you've spent any extended time with him you know this. And we thank you for the additional prayers.

Instead, I thought I would share some of my favorite Connor photos.

 I still love this picture that my sister Jennifer took. 

 This is the one that we are pulling out on prom night. 

 The very first time Connor visited the campus with us in Fort Wayne. He fell in the fountain about three minutes after this picture was taken. 

 Gotta love his energy. 

My sweet smiling boy. 

 I just love that I caught him in a giggle on this one. 

 My inquisitive boy.  

 I think this picture truly captures who Connor is.

He is always thinking about something.

My handsome boy.

Happy 8th Birthday Connor!
We love you so much.  

Of Monsters and Kitty Cats.

Sometimes I don't enjoy living in a smaller town...mostly on days when Walmart is out of bananas or only has two kinds of bread left. Most of the time, however, I love it. And, I especially love it around any holiday. There is nothing quite like small town living when it comes to festivals and holidays. 

Today was trick or treat around town day in Atchison. Several of the businesses (around 30 of them) had candy for the kids. There was also a parade and some scarier fun this evening that we skipped out on. 

We took a little monster, a kitty cat, a spy, and a baby cow. I didn't really get any pictures of my spy and I didn't get great pictures of my baby cow - but I figure I can get those on Halloween. 

Here is my sweet little monster.

 And my sassy little cat. 

 Who may have partied a little too hard considering she fell asleep with a sucker in her mouth. 

 We lost our monster too. 

 And this has to be the world's most adorable cow...even without her hat. 

My bespectacled boy.

Connor got his new glasses today. And, I must say that in my completely unbiased opinion, he is one handsome boy. 

School Pictures

My kids are growing up.

I have mixed feelings about this, but guess it was bound to happen eventually.

Sophie Janes Do.

Lately living with Sophia has been a lot like living with Bob Dole. Truthfully, I haven't lived with the Doles for a while...or...you know...ever, but I have a pretty clear picture in my mind of what it would be like. Elizabeth would be really smart, bake delicious food, and give really good advice, and Bob Dole would talk about himself in the third person... a lot. Admit it. You had this same picture in your mind too.

Sophia has not only taken to talking about herself in the third person recently, she has almost created a new brand of person: the Sophie Janes.

I have not yet discovered exactly what the Sophie Janes plan to do with us after they complete their world domination, but I do know a lot about them thanks to my very own Sophie Jane.

As I am informed several times a day "Don't worry Mom, Sophie Janes.....

• have great balance. 
• are awesome at ballet. 
• almost never fall out of bed. 
• tell their moms or dads when they need to go potty. 
• can watch Daniel Tiger. 
• are great at buckling seat belts. 
• are great at holding bottles. 
• know how to swim. 
• like stories. 
• love to eat peppers. 
• cough into their elbows. 
• say I'm sorry when they accidentally run into someone in the store. 
• get to eat pumpkin bars. 

Strangely enough, I didn't realize I was worried about any of things. That may mean that one more super power of the Sophie Janes is to know what you are worried about even when you don't.

 And just in case the Sophie Janes do try to take over...I have it on good authority that Sophie Janes are scared of spiders...so we already know how to keep them in check.

Gone too soon.

One out of every four women has lost a child. Did you know that? I didn't and I am that one in four. In fact, my husband and I have lost four children in the womb. Four little ones that we will have to wait to hold. Four little ones whose faces we desperately want to kiss, and whose hands we want to hold. Four little ones that we will know in heaven. Four little ones that we will love perfectly there. 

October is National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month. A month set aside to remember those parents who grieve their children lost in the womb, still born, or lost early in life. A month to remember those parents whose little ones were gone too soon. 

Let us also remember this month all those little ones lost in the womb, not by chance, but by choice. I yearn for a day when the children killed through abortion are mourned, valued, and loved as much as the children lost in the womb whose mothers desperately wanted them. 

You know someone who has lost a child in the womb or in infancy. You probably also know someone who has lost a child because of abortion. These women are your friends, your relatives, your pastor's wife, your waitress, your child's teacher, and many many others. 

Say a prayer for these women. All of these women. 

Pray for the women whose children have been lost. Pray that they would find healing and comfort. Pray that they would know that Christ has suffered all things for them and that His grace is sufficient. 

Pray for the women who made a choice to end their child's life. Pray that they would seek forgiveness and be healed. Pray that they too would know that Christ died for all their sins. All their mistakes.  

And while you are at it, pray for all mothers, especially those of us with little kids. Pray that we would serve in our vocations joyfully, teach our children the faith, and get more sleep. Because let's face it...what mom couldn't use more sleep? 

I am the winner!

Have you heard about the meanest mom competition? It is an ongoing battle between all moms to be the meanest most awful and horrible mother on the face of the planet. At least this is what I tell my kids every time they complain about something I am making them do/not letting them do.

The conversation always seems to go something like this:

Connor/Sophia: But, that't not fair. You are being really mean.
Me: I am trying to win the meanest mom competition. How do you expect me to win if I treat you fairly all the time?
Connor/Sophia: You aren't the meanest mom! You take care of us and that is really nice. You are never going to win.

A while back Connor and Sophia were playing one of their favorite games. It's called "Let's see who can scream the loudest at each other and in general be completely obnoxious!" This is not my favorite game. We were in the car on the way to the grocery store and there was a promise of ice cream in the works.

We stopped the car and I gently explained to them that because they decided to scream at each other at the top of their lungs, there would be no ice cream. I wasn't rewarding this kind of behavior with treats.

The tears came, the pleas of give us one more chance, the promises of doing better.

And yet, I was unmoved.

The next day we had a conversation like this:

Connor: It was really mean yesterday when you took away our ice cream. You didn't even give us a warning that you would take it away if we didn't quit.  You just did it.
Me: I don't have to give you a warning to stop screaming at each other. It is never an okay behavior.
Connor: You really are the meanest mom.
Me: Finally.

This kid has it rough. 

Can't you tell?

The Go Boat.

It started about three months ago with one simple phrase. Elinor was just learning how to talk, she had mastered Mama and Dada and the rest was pretty much gibberish. One should never assume, however, that a seven year old won't try to make sense of that gibberish. Especially when that seven year old is Connor. Since that day, it has become an obsession with he and Sophia. The Go Boat. Or...more aptly, the Go Boat trip.

As Elinor was talking in that mysterious language that only babies know and as Connor was listening he heard her say something that sounded like "go boat". When he asked her where she was going to go on the boat, she responded with "go boat I." That is his version of the story and the source of late night whispers between he and Sophia. The source of giant holes in my back yard. And, the source of me forever finding bags packed with clothing, stuffed animals, shoes, and toys around the house.

You see, when Connor heard Elinor say "go boat I" he drew the obvious conclusion that Elinor had a secret plan for them to take a trip on a boat that Elinor had created and named the Go Boat to a country that begins with the letter I. He explained this to Sophia and she was more than happy to climb aboard the crazy train and start planning for their world wide adventure.

Connor immediately made the assumption that when she said "I", Elinor was indicating that she wanted to take her boat to one of four places: Iceland, Ireland, Italy, or the Ivory Coast. After careful consideration, they decided that Italy was most likely the place. The reasoning behind this: Italy is shaped like a boot and Elinor does seem to like shoes (she truly does).

Then the preparation began.

Phase I:
They began packing bags and planning for the things they would need in Italy. Sunglasses, extra underwear, a nice sailor dress for Sophia and Elinor, and their favorite animals were shoved into bags and stowed in places like under the bed and in corners of the playroom.

Phase II:
Connor began studying my various cookbooks to find travel friendly recipes and also recipes that involved fish. He also began to ask me questions regarding the best way to store water.

Phase III:
Connor told me not to worry if I woke up one morning and they were all gone. It would just mean that they had left for the Go Boat trip and they would be back in a few weeks or months. (He was quite serious).

Phase III part b.:
I explained to Connor that if he so much as stepped outside in the middle of the night or tried to take his sisters with him that he would be grounded until the end of eternity and would never get to do anything fun ever again. I strictly forbid him to take the Go Boat trip until he was at least 18. (He begrudgingly agreed).

Phase IV:
Connor then began to try to figure out where Elinor had hidden her Go Boat. She indicated it was outside (one of her favorite words) and down (another favorite). So...he and Sophia did what any normal kids would do when looking for a giant boat meant to travel across the ocean...they began to dig holes in my back yard trying to locate it. I told them to stop digging holes and took away their shovels. They then concluded that Elinor must have already taken it to the Mississippi River (that is their selected point of origin for the trip).

Phase V:
This is our current phase. This is the phase where every time we get a box of any kind it is immediately transformed into a boat, filled with clothes, stuffed animals, bottled water, and sunglasses. The kids sit in the boat and study a map - searching to find the best route to Italy or Hawaii. They are thinking that it may be more fun to go there now. Plus, Connor figures that when Elinor said "Go Boat I" at the beginning of summer, she may have just meant that she wanted to come on the Go Boat and wasn't so particular about where they were going.

If you see Connor and Sophia whispering to each other in the corner and listen very closely, I can almost assure you that at some point you'll hear the phrase "the Go Boat." And, if you happen to see my seven year old, three year old, eighteen month old, and baby heading towards the Mississippi, please send them back home.