new library books

Almost a full half hour of peaceful quiet entertainment!

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halloween

Tim was out of town at a conference, but fortunately some friends of ours were able to come over and take the big kids out trick or treating, while I stayed at home with Thomas and handed out candy. A lovely time was had by all. The next morning, George woke up at 6am demanding candy for breakfast "because I'm a goooood sleeper." Sure, George.

she's 2!

how we love this sweet, feisty, girly, loving, mischievous little elf!

Isaiah 46:3-4

Listen to me, O house of Jacob, all the remnant of the house of Israel, who have been borne by me from before your birth, carried from the womb; even to your old age I am he, and to gray hairs I will carry you. I have made, and I will bear; I will carry and will save.

14 years

and never have I been so often reminded of him as since the birth of this child who so resembles him.

not just a bowl of soup

One of Tim's co-workers has a wife who is a wonderful cook. She always brings an amazing cranberry compote to the annual Thanksgiving dinner. She also makes a tasty minestrone. One Sunday in early August she called mid-afternoon to say she'd made a huge pot and would we like to have some? Because she remembers how sometimes you need a break in late pregnancy as much as you do with a new baby? We were very appreciative of her thoughtfulness and drove over to her house to collect three big containers worth.

Once we were home, the contractions which had bothered me earlier in the day returned. Tim fed the children at the table while I reclined on the couch with my minestrone. At first I was fairly unconcerned as I frequently have bouts of Braxton-Hicks and could always control them by lying down for a while and drinking lots of water. My nonchalance started to fade away as the contractions crept closer and closer together. When they were less than five minutes apart I knew I could ignore them no longer, and everyone knows the rest of that story.

The rest of the soup went into the freezer. The way, way back of the freezer.

I studiously ignored it for many weeks. However my responsible frugal housewife self could not in good conscience just toss it out so I finally thawed it today, a nice chilly fall day, perfect for a warm bowl of soup. (OK, OK, we are also quite low on groceries and there were few alternatives!) But when dinnertime arrived and I smelled that lovely salty aroma, I knew there was just no way I could do it. Eat it. My stomach went into knots at the thought. I don't often think of myself as someone so, sentimental I guess, but tonight just to look at the soup pulled me back to that other night. And made me wish I could go back there, and have it all turn out differently, just a false alarm, another evening spent in triage at L&D, an evening barely remembered a few weeks later with the joyous arrival of a healthy term baby. But that way danger lies, I know it, to long for a "do-over" instead of trusting the baffling truth that Thomas' difficult entrance into the world, his week spent between life and death, was in fact all by design and a design with the best for me, for Thomas, for our whole family in mind. A fact I can state but can barely comprehend.

fall!

In what has become an annual family tradition, we spent a recent Saturday apple picking at a nearby farm. George loved using the apple picker to get apples out of his reach; Helen worked away at her apple all morning until there was just a little nub left (she ate seeds and all!). Cider donuts were also a hit. You aren't seeing pictures of Thomas and me because shortly into the trip he got hungry so I spent a fair bit of the morning feeding him in the van. I'm sure that next year he'll get more into the spirit of things!