Ethan, 11 months

April 7, 2011

I can hardly believe that twelve months have almost past since I went in to do a check-up ultrasound and came home four days later having given birth via c-section to Ethan.  Of course, it would be another week and a half before he’d be able to come home.

*Sniff, Sniff*

Ah, memories…

In the last two weeks Ethan has gone from barely starting to army crawl to deciding that maybe crawling might be fun.  Almost as much fun as getting into everything that Mommy says no to.

He’s gotten into the habit of looking up at me like, “Mommy, I’m inocent!  Really!” and then smiling at me.

I must have “Sucker for a smile” tatooed across my forehead.


(Nope.  I just looked.  No tatoo.  Whew!)

And this is only the beginning!

So Ethan can now: crawl (with gusto!), climb up the stairs, climb, pull himself up to things, and did I mention climb?  He’s also starting to cruise.  If you hold both of his hands he runs, walking will barely be in his vocabulary, I think.

He also has gotten in three out of four of his top teeth.  I’m sure the last one will be in soon.

The cup has been grudgingly accepted, although the better he gets about using it, the more I see acceptance and less grudge.

This has all been in the last two weeks.  While all my family were here for my grandpa’s funeral.

Nice timing, huh?

Last night was the first time Ethan said, “Dada” and wasn’t babbling.  He was looking at Tim when he said it.

Today, I noticed that he’s beginning to play by putting objects into a box, which is new.

I need to start letting him try to feed himself with a spoon.  I cringe at the thought knowing what his chair and under his chair on the floor looks like now, but I know I need to do it anyway.  It would be nice if the bowl or plate would stay on the table in front of him instead of being dumped in his lap or on the floor.  But, he’s only 11 months, not 2 or 3 or 5.   One thing at a time.

Since Ethan is my third, I’ve seen a difference in how I parent.  With Hannah, I was ready for the next step long before she was.  With Caleb, I was more relaxed, but still ready.  Now with Ethan, he’s ready and doing and then I catch up.  I was okay with the fact that he couldn’t crawl.  One less mobile child was okay with me.  Another thing is the bottle, I’m okay with him having one even though I stopped trying with the first two at 9 months.  But then, they never took a bottle.  Although, now that he takes a cup a lot easier, I’ll probably wean him, albeit slowly.  More for me than for him.

Are we going have more kids after Ethan?


As long as God so wills.

How many?

No idea!

And that’s okay.

Although, I think 5 or 6 is a nice number…

Total kids, not 5 or 6 more kids… gracious!


God knows what I’m able to handle, better than I do.



May God bless your socks off!



Living a Legacy

April 1, 2011

A week ago yesterday March 24, 2011 , the only Grandpa I ever knew went to be with his Savior.  He was 91.

The day before I got the call that said, if you want to say good-bye, do it now.  It wasn’t long after that call that I went to see he and my grandma in the nursing home where they  lived.  I know he knew I was there, because he looked up at me.  I’m sure he didn’t know who I was, because of his Alzheimer’s, but that doesn’t matter.  I told him that I loved him and knew somewhere inside me that it would be the last time he would hear it.  A little more then 12 hours later he breathed his last holding my grandma’s hand.

You didn’t spend more than a few minutes with Grandpa without hearing a story.  He was in South America during World War 2.  As a child, I remember him telling me about lizards whose tales would fall off if you grabbed hold of them.  I loved to hear Grandpa’s stories.  I loved to hear about when he was boy and had to go to the well with his sister to get water.  I would sit on my dad’s lap and listen as he told about the airplanes he worked on.

As an adult I gleaned the wisdom he had, mostly from watching.  He always had a come back to make you smile.  He respected and loved my grandma with all of his being, almost as much as he loved his Savior.  Every morning they would read the Bible together.  A decade ago they would walk together holding hands, only partially to keep them steady.  He took everything in stride, knowing God would make things turn out right.  He never spoke badly about anyone specifically.

Grandma & Grandpa

Grandpa used to tell the story about how he was just about to get out of the service and as he was praying he told God that he was lonely and wanted a wife.  He said that he wanted her to be a Christian, a good cook (and such as that), and not afraid to work.  He met Grandma in January at a church not far from where I live now.  They were engaged in February of that year and were married March 19, 1946.  The pastor that married them told them that it was too quick and wouldn’t accept payment saying it would never last.  He attended their 25th anniversary party and his wife (who was also there) attended their 50th.  In total they were married 65 years.

Three weeks ago when he knew he was dying, he looked up and saw angels.  He couldn’t wait to see Heaven and be with Jesus.  He joked and laughed even then.  I left his room that day and turned to my dad and said, “I want to be like that when it’s my turn!”

Another thing I loved about Grandpa was his love of kids.  Of all ages, but especially the little ones.  He couldn’t pass any child without waving.  And if they waved back, it made his day.  He loved to go shopping with Grandma I think, just so he could wave at all the little kids and see if he could get them to smile at him and wave.  I think most of the time, they did.

The legacy my grandpa left was one of faith, laughter, honesty and hard work.

May God bless your socks off!