Marking the Moments of a Life

He walks toward the car, kicking his soccer ball, and I strain my neck to see if he's holding it. All week, he's poured his heart into the one-on-one matches, the footwork, the three-on-three games, the drills. He knows if he works hard, pays attention, gives his best, it will make him a better player. But I know him. I know his drive to be the best. I know how he is carried along on words of affirmation. Deep down, he wants that trophy. The one that says, "I tried my hardest and Coach noticed."

He is red-faced, and his jet-black Korean hair is dripping wet when he crosses the road to the car, evidence that he played hard, worked hard. And so I try my best to see past all the soccer paraphanlaia - the water bottle and the camp t-shirt and the participation medal coach passed out today. His face gives nothing away except the sheer exhaustion from two-and-a-half hours of running.

He throws me a faint smile as he climbs in and gives me his usual, "Hi, Mom." I decide not to bring it up, and I ask how it went. More than anything, I want him to know that if he gives his best at each and every opportunity, he can always be proud of his performance. I will always be proud of his performance.

He slides into the car and bursts into a huge grin and says, "I got the Player of the Day trophy! I knew I could do it if I worked really hard." I smile at his determination, and I know where he gets it. He's just like his mom.

"How awesome to win an award on your special day!" I tell him. (Today is his Family Day. It's the day he flew to America 12 years ago to join our family - to make me a mommy!) "Do you want to call your dad?" I listen to his excitement as he tells his dad about his trophy and his coach's praise, and I watch as he is carried on his dad's words of affirmation.

We have a lot to celebrate tonight. We feast on Mexican food as a family, and we endure the noise and the lights and the energy of their favorite place, the one they always ask for.

And when we're finally home, he crawls in bed, exhausted but happy.

I stretch out across my bed and I see the frame on the wall. The one that says "Moments of Perfection". The one that holds pictures of my first moments with each of my children. And there it is. The exact moment 12 years ago today when they placed him in my arms. I smile remembering the sweet face and the head full of jet, black hair and the whispering past the lump in my throat, "This feels really good!" And I think to myself, "It still feels really good!"

I rejoice in his success today, and I mark the moment he came to us and I thank my Heavenly Father for this precious gift.

Happy Family Day, Josiah!

Kids Need Their Daddies

Daddy and me on the beach in Florida

I was just a young thing when this picture was taken. My family was on vacation in Florida. I only have one memory from this trip, at least I think it is a memory. I could just be reliving in my head what I've seen on the old, family vacation video footage or maybe I even dreamed it. Pretty sure it's an actual memory.

Someone gave me an empty Coppertone bottle. (I know it had to be Coppertone because when I think of summer and childhood, I have an old-factory deja vu.) I would stand behind my father at the edge of the ocean and fill my bottle full of water. Then, when he least expected it, although I'm sure he knew it was coming, I would squeeze the water on my daddy's balding head and pat it with my hand. He would laugh and act surprised, and I thought it was so much fun.

My dad's hair continued to disappear over the years (sorry dad), but he always had a little black comb. I would sit and comb his three strands (just kidding) with his little black comb while he played cards or worked on a puzzle. Not sure why I remember that, but it must be important.

My husband has a similar memory of his father. He would use his dad's little black comb to scratch his dad's back. Not sure why he remembers that, but he does. (Did everybody's dad carry a little black comb?)

Here's what I think.

I think I remember these silly memories because getting to pour water on your daddy's head and getting to use his little black comb meant he was there. He was there at the beach and every vacation after that. He was there at dinnertime and sporting events and talent shows and graduation. He was there for it all. As it should be.

(Thank you for being there, Dad - for still being there!)

Kids need their daddies.

Tonight, we celebrated Father's Day early. The kids piled on the couch with their presents ready to get their moment in the sun. The oldest spent his own money and bought something he knew dad would love. The twins brought their homemade presents they've been hiding since the last day of school. My youngest, he presented something in a bag. He had no idea what it was, but he beamed proud when dad opened his gift.

After the kids had scattered, my husband in his quiet whisper (he has laryngitis) said, "Know what I loved best? I love that my boys still love to crawl all over me!"

That's what kids need -

Dad's who will let you crawl all over them

or dump water on their heads

or use their little black combs.

Kids need their daddies to be there.

If your dad wasn't there, and Father's Day is a hard day for you, Psalm 68:5 says that God is

"a father to the fatherless"

and He is always there!

Country Girl Wannabe

Sometimes I dream of living in the country,

having a big old farm house with lots of land for the kids to roam,

having a big garden where they can snack on fresh veggies while we gather the day's harvest,

having fresh flowers in every room in my house picked from my own flower garden,

having my man come home from a long day in the field to a wonderful home-cooked meal,

and having my children fall into bed dead tired from working with the animals all day long.

Ok, I know! I wouldn't last very long. Who am I kidding? I don't even like the garden once the mosquitoes come out, but a girl can dream.

While we don't have fields to plow (for which I am grateful), I am quite happy most of the time with the beautiful garden my husband keeps. (We argue over whose garden it is. After all, it is my design, but since he does all the work, we'll call it his.)

We can't ever seem to harvest enough from the garden for a whole meal because my children eat the strawberries and the asparagus and the pea pods (and even the onions sometimes) faster than we can pick them. (I complain about it, but I love it actually.)

I do love the few flowers that I am able to keep alive...

...and the ones that just come back on their own every year with no work on my part.

And the closest things we have to livestock is a cat who thinks she rules the house...

...and the occasional critter that is unlucky enough to be catured in the yard.

We do use every opportunity to teach the kids about nature and life and our Creator. Like with this little fellow. Ken made everyone hold him for five seconds just so they would feel the texture of his skin (or maybe it was just to watch them squirm). When we were all done, I said, "OK, did everyone hold him?" They were quick to announce that mom hadn't, so of course I took a turn. (Yuck!)

Come to think of it, I think I'm pretty fond of my little plot of land in the country in the city on the edge of town where we do life together.

Take Me Out to the Ballgame

The hardest thing about having identical twins on the same baseball team is having other parents ask you which one is batting. If it weren't for their different shoes, I wouldn't know who I was cheering for.

Ellis (he's wearing the tennis shoes)

Aidan (he's wearing cleats)

We've Re-written the Creation Story

We've had sickness, lots and lots of sickness

Doctor's appointments

Strep Tests

Fever, lots and lots of fever

Antibiotics

We've had sports, lots and lots of sports.

We've had end of the year activities.

I am losing my mind.

I fall into bed dead tired.

Two-and-a-half more days of school.

Can I get us all through it?

Hopefully we can settle into that wonderful, comfortably lazy new summer schedule soon. (I promise I'll post more when we do.)

Here's a little conversation that made me smile.

Actually, it made us all laugh out loud.

We needed the laughter.

Aidan: (pulling this question out of thin air) Mom, what day was it on the first day?

Mom: What do you mean? Do you mean the very first day ever?

Ellis: (attempting to clarify for Aidan as he usually does) You know when Adam and that other person were there.

Mom: (aghast that my child couldn't seem to come up with the name of the second person ever created) Who was that other person, Ellis? Adam and ....?

Ellis: (said just as confidently and seriously as he could) DAVE!

Mom: (not one to normally speak sarcastically to my children) Yep! That's it, Adam and Dave.

Everyone: (loud laughter)

Ellis: Well, I knew it started with "ave".

Even when he's not trying, he makes us laugh out loud!

I love that about him.

(Just a side note: He's the only one who hasn't been sick all week.)