seven years of caleb

Dear Caleb,

It's hard to believe that it's already been 7 years since I held my brand new second baby boy in my arms, feeling distinctly impressed that you were something special. And, oh, how you have been. It's been a real pleasure watching you grow up. You are becoming a fine young man, and though you are not without your faults, you have the clear potential to be that something special, with many unique gifts to offer the world you live in.

Currently you are a fun loving, albeit quite shy, boy. You love to play outside as well as indoors on your Nintendo. You've recently discovered Pokemon and are a big fan. Even though you are obviously getting older, a part of you still needs to cling to your blue baby blanket and your favorite stuffed animals. You are a bright boy, intuitive and sensitive to those around you. Please use those gifts well. Always try to see the best in others and be kind to those around you.

I expect great things from you, Caleb. Please remember to always live up to the potential your dad and I see in you. And remember, too, that we love you dearly.

Love,
Mom

***

We celebrated with an excursion to Smale Park in downtown Cincinnati to play and splash in the fountains.

In the evening we had a family party at home. You got a Pokemon and Tetris games for your Nintendo 2DS, a maze book (from Grandma Joyce and Grandpa Gary), a BYU t-shirt (from Grammy Nancy and Grandpa Dave), a Cincinnati Reds t-shirt, some Pokemon cards, and the puzzle game Rush Hour.

nine is fine

Dear Garrett,

Nine years. Nine years of wide grins and creative endeavors. Nine years of passionate curiosity and unadulterated joy. Nine years of you. Happy birthday, my boy!

Though you sometimes seem bent on driving your father and I crazy, what with your frequent inability to reign in your now wildly swinging emotions, you are a real treat to have in our family. You find it a burden at times being the oldest, but I'm glad that you are. When you are able to let go of yourself, you are great older brother, persuasively trying to mediate squabbles and help hurt feelings. Your younger brothers look up to you, and I hope that you always do your best to be a good example to them.

The things you love vary from moment to moment, but you still hold true to Legos, paper airplanes, creating things out of items that others toss in the trash, and anything science. You read voraciously, and are especially drawn to non-fiction. Over the last year you've been introduced to handheld video games and bike riding, both of which you've also grown to love. You are still an incredibly (and, given your heritage, oddly) social boy, and find friends wherever you are. You have the ability to talk non-stop, and you are brimming with wildly creative ideas.

I love you, Garrett. I'm so lucky you are mine. Always remember how much you are loved, and then share that love with those around you by thinking of and always serving others. If you do, you will continue to be a blessing to many.

Love,
Mom

***

Here is how we celebrated!

Blake was able to take the day off work, so Garrett opened his presents in the morning. He cleaned up! A paper airplane book; a Nintendo DS game; a Cincinnati Reds shirt; scouting stuff, including a canteen, a whetstone, and a real Swiss Army pocketknife (!); a BYU t-shirt from Grammy Nancy and Grandpa Dave; and a story writing book from Grandma Joyce and Grandpa Gary.

In the afternoon six of his friends came over to party. We did a bit of a repeat of his 4th birthday -- free-for-all water fun, this time in our back yard. These boys ate it up. He came away with some fun gifts, including big squirt guns for future backyard water play.

 What a great group of boys!

For dinner Garrett requested Eli's BBQ, and we were more than happy to oblige (that place is good!). He claims it was a great day, which is exactly what we were aiming for.

the sweet serenity of [children's] books

I have a special place in my heart for children's literature. As my final project for the bookbinding class I took at BYU, I made a book and filled it with page after page of favorite quotes from my favorite works of children's lit. I'll admit that I'm a much better reader than I am a bookbinder, and as evidence I'll submit the fact that the book I made for this project is slowly falling apart. Before its pages are lost to the wind, I thought I'd record here the quotations I compiled so that more than the dust the book collects on my shelf will be able to enjoy them. (And yes, I'm retyping each one -- this project was completed in the days of floppy discs; as such, I no longer have a digital copy.)

To live would be an awfully big adventure.     -- Peter Pan, J. M. Barrie

***

But the sea was full of wonderful creatures, and as he swam from marvel to marvel, Swimmy was happy again.

He saw a medusa made of rainbow jelly . . . a lobster, who walked about like a water-moving machine . . . strange fish, pulled by an invisible thread . . . a forest of seaweeds growing from sugar-candy rocks . . . an eel whose tail was almost too far away to remember . . . and sea anemones, who looked like pink palm trees swaying in the wind.     -- Swimmy, Leo Leoni

***

When he gave us our air-rifles Atticus wouldn't teach us to shoot. Uncle Jack instructed us in the rudiments therof; he said Atticus wasn't interested in guns. Atticus said to Jem one day, "I'd rather you shot at tin cans in the back yard, but I know you'll go after birds. Shoot all the bluejays you want, if you can hit 'em, but remember it's a sin to kill a mockingbird."

That was the only time I ever heard Atticus say it was a sin to do something, and I asked Miss Maudie about it.

"Your father's right," she said. "Mockingbirds don't do one thing but make music for us to enjoy. They don't eat up people's gardens, don't nest in corncribs, they don't do one thing but sing their hearts out for us. That's why it's a sin to kill a mockingbird.    -- To Kill a Mockingbird, Harper Lee

***

It is the nightly custom of every good mother after her children are asleep to rummage in their minds and put things straight for next morning, repacking into their proper places the many articles that have wandered during the day. If you could keep awake (but of course you can't) you would see your own mother doing this, and you would find it very interesting to watch her. It is quite like tidying up drawers. You would see her on her knees, I expect, lingering humorously over some of your contents, wondering where on earth you had picked this thing up, making discoveries sweet and not so sweet, pressing this to her cheek as if it were as nice as a kitten, and hurriedly stowing that out of sight. When you wake in the morning, the naughtiness and evil passions with which you went to bed have been folded up small and placed at the bottom of your mind, and on the top, beautifully aired, are spread out your prettier thoughts, ready for you to put on.     -- Peter Pan, J. M. Barrie

***

Wilber never forgot Charlotte. Although he loved her children and grandchildren dearly, none of the new spiders ever quite took her place in his heart. She was in a class by herself. It is not often that someone comes along who is a true friend and a good writer. Charlotte was both.     -- Charlotte's Web, E. B. White

***

"Yeah, well, yeh get weirdos in every breed."     -- Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, J. K. Rowling

***

Serene was a word you could put to Brooklyn, New York. Especially in the summer of 1912. Somber, as a word, was better. But it did not apply to Williamsburg, Brooklyn. Prairie was lovely, and Shenandoah had a beautiful sound, but you couldn't fit those words into Brooklyn. Serene was the only word for it, especially on a Saturday afternoon in summer.     -- A Tree Grows in Brookyn, Betty Smith

***

When I grow up I'm going to find out everything about everybody and put it all in a book. The book is going to be called Secrets by Harriet M. Welsch. I will also have photographs in it and maybe some medical charts if I can find them.     -- Harriet the Spy, Louise Fitzhugh

***

Ron shook his head, wide-eyed. Hermione, however, clapped a hand to her forehead.

"Harry --- I think I've just understood something! I've got to go to the library!"

And she sprinted away, up the stairs.

"What does she understand?" said Harry distractedly. . . .

"Loads more than I do," said Ron, shaking his head.

"But why's she got to go to the library?"

"Because that's what Hermione does," said Ron, shrugging. "When in doubt, go to the library."     -- Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, J. K. Rowling

***

April 26

Sometimes
when you are trying
not to think about something
it keeps popping back
into your head
you can't help it
you think about it
and
think about it
and
think about it
until your brain
feels like
a squashed pea.
-- Love That Dog, Sharon Creech

***

The most remarkable thing about Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle is her house, which is upside down. It is a little brown house, and sitting there in its tangly garden it looks like a small brown puppy lying on its back with its feet in the air.     --Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle, Betty MacDonald

***

They were embarrassing to watch, but not so embarrassing that I didn't.     -- The View From Saturday, E. L. Konigsburg

***

We could do nothing to please her. If I said as sunnily as I could, "Hey, Mrs. Dubose," I would receive for an answer, "Don't you say hey to me, you ugly girl! You say good afternoon, Mrs. Dubose."     -- To Kill a Mockingbird, Harper Lee

***

"My dear Frodo!" exclaimed Gandalf. "Hobbits really are amazing creatures, as I have said before. You can learn all there is to know about their ways in a month, and yet after a hundred years they can still surprise you at a pinch."     -- The Lord of the Rings, J. R. R. Tolkien

***

"We are all going on an Expedition," said Christopher Robin, "and we must all bring Provisions."

"Bring what?"

"Things to eat."

"Oh!" said Pooh happily, "I thought you said Provisions."      -- Winnie-the-Pooh, A. A. Milne

***

"Tomatoes wait for no man," Grandma said, gazing at the door.     -- A Long Way from Chicago, Richard Peck

***

Sarah handed me a package.

"For Anna," she said. "And Caleb. For all of us."

The package was small, wrapped in brown paper with a rubber band around it. Very carefully I unwrapped it, Caleb peering closely. Inside were three colored pencils.

"Blue," said Caleb slowly, "and gray. And green."

Sarah nodded.

Suddenly Caleb grinned.

"Papa," he called. "Papa, come quickly! Sarah has brought the sea!"    -- Sarah, Plain and Tall, Patricia MacLachlan

***

The minute they entered the classroom they stopped short and gasped. There were drawings all over the room, on every ledge and window sill, tacked to the tops of the blackboards, spread over the bird charts, dazzling colors and brilliant lavish designs, all drawn on great sheets of wrapping paper.

There must have been a hundred of them all lined up!     -- The Hundred Dresses, Eleanor Estes

***

"Exactly," said Jane. "It's that nickel I found, only it isn't a nickel! It's a magic charm and it does things by halves! So far we've each got half of what we wished for --- all we have to do from now on is ask it for twice as much as we really want! You see?"

"I haven't had fractions yet," said Martha.     -- Half Magic, Edward Eager

***

There's a tree that grows in Brooklyn. Some people call it the Tree of Heaven. No matter where its seed falls, it makes a tree which struggles to reach the sky. It grows in boarded-up lots and out of neglected rubbish heaps. It grows up out of cellar gratings. It is the only tree that grows out of cement. It grows lushly . . . survives without sun, water, and seemingly without earth. It would be considered beautiful except that there are too many of it.     -- A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, Betty Smith

***

"Just because you've got the emotional range of a teaspoon doesn't mean we all have," said Hermione nastily.     -- Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, J. K. Rowling

***

He stubbed his toe on the bed purposefully to see if it hurt. It did.     -- Dandelion Wine, Ray Bradbury

***

Stanley was not a bad kid. He was innocent of the crime for which he was convicted. He'd just been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

It was all because of his no-good-dirty-rotten-pig-stealing-great-great-grandfather!     -- Holes, Louis Sachar

***

"The atmospheric conditions have been very unfavorable lately," said Owl.

"The what?"

"It has been raining," explained Owl.

"Yes," said Christopher Robin, "it has."     -- Winnie-the-Pooh, A. A. Milne

***

There were a number of ways of cracking eggs. The most popular, and the real reason for bringing an egg to school, was knocking the egg against one's head. There were two ways of doing so, by a lot of timid little raps or by one big whack.

Sarah was a rapper. Ramona, like Yard Ape, was a whacker. She took a firm hold on her egg, waited until everyone at her table was watching, and whack --- she found herself with a handful of crumbled shell and something cool and slimy running down her face.

Everyone at Ramona's table gasped. Ramona needed a moment to realize what had happened. Her egg was raw. Her mother had not boiled her egg at all. She tried to brush the yellow yolk away from her face, but she only succeeded in making her hands eggy.     -- Ramona Quimby, Age 8, Beverly Cleary

***

All the children looked out into the woods. The sun was shining, but some water fell from the trees. In front of the boxcar a pretty little brook ran over the rocks, with a waterfall in it.

"What a beautiful place!" said Violet.

"Henry!" cried Jessie. "Let's live here!"

"Live here?" asked Henry.

"Yes! Why not?" said Jessie. "This boxcar is a fine little house. It is dry and warm in the rain."             -- The Boxcar Children, Gertrude Chandler Warner

***

September 13

I don't want to
because boys
don't write poetry.

Girls do.

September 21

I tried.
Can't do it.
Brain's empty.
-- Love That Dog, Sharon Creech

***

"Rabbit's clever," said Pooh, thoughtfully.

"Yes," said Piglet. "Rabbit's clever.

"And he has a Brain."

"Yes," said Piglet, "Rabbit has a Brain."

There was a long silence.

"I suppose," said Pooh, "that that's why he never understands anything."     -- The House at Pooh Corner, A. A. Milne

***

Betsy was given beautiful presents at that fifth birthday party. Besides the little glass pitcher, she got colored cups and saucers, a small silk handkerchief embroidered with forget-me-nots, pencils and puzzles and balls. But the nicest present she received was not the usual kind of present. It was the present of a friend. It was Tacy.     -- Betsy-Tacy, Maud Hart Lovelace

***

And I know now that all the time I was trying to get
out of the dust,
the fact is,
what I am,
I am because of the dust.
And what I am is good enough.
Even for me.
-- Out of the Dust, Karen Hesse

***

So the peddler picked up his caps and put them back on his head --- first his own checked cap, then the gray caps, then the brown caps, then the blue caps, then the red caps on the very top. And slowly, slowly, he walked back to town calling, "Caps! Caps for sale! Fifty cents a cap!"     -- Caps for Sale, Esphyr Slobodkina

***

On Monday in math class, Mrs. Fibonacci says, "You know, you can think of almost everything as a math problem."

On Tuesday I start having problems.     -- Math Curse, Jon Scieszka

***

"Goodness, Henry!" his mother said. "Pretty soon you won't be able to walk in here."

"If you keep all your guppies," said his father, "by the end of the year you'll have over a million guppies in your bedroom!"

"Golly!" said Henry. "A million fish in my bedroom!" Wouldn't that be something to tell the kids at school!     -- Henry Huggins, Beverly Cleary

***

"Might I," quavered Mary, "might I have a bit of earth?"

In her eagerness she did not realize how queer the words would sound and that they were not the ones she had meant to say. Mr. Craven looked quite startled.

"Earth!" he repeated. "What do you mean?"

"To plant seeds in --- to make things grow --- to see them come alive," Mary faltered. . . .

"You can have as much earth as you want," he said. "You remind me of someone else who loved the earth and things that grow. When you see a bit of earth you want," with something of a smile, "take it child, and make it come alive."     -- The Secret Garden, Frances Hodgson Burnett

***

"But it isn't easy," said Pooh, "because Poetry and Hums aren't things which you get, they're things which get you. And all you can do is to go where they can find you."     The House at Pooh Corner, A. A. Milne

***

"Once upon a time in Spain there was a little bull and his name was Ferdinand. All the other little bulls he lived with would run and jump and butt their heads together, but not Ferdinand. He liked to sit just quietly and smell the flowers. He had a favorite spot out in the pasture under a cork tree. It was his favorite tree and he would sit in its shade all day and smell the flowers.     -- Ferdinand, Munro Leaf

***

It suddenly came over him that nobody had ever picked Eeyore a bunch of violets, and the more he thought of this, the more he thought how sad it was. . . . So he hurried out again, saying to himself, "Eeyore, Violets," and then "Violets, Eeyore," in case he forgot, because it was that sort of day, and he picked a large bunch and trotted along.     -- The House at Pooh Corner, A. A. Milne

***

The light from the window shone on Nadia's side of the room. When she moved her head, the morning light caught in her hair the way the sun had when she turned her back to the ocean. Fringes of her hair framed her face in a halo. Whenever that halo effect happened, I wanted to stare at her until the sunlight stopped, but my heart stopped before the light did.    -- The View from Saturday, E. L. Konigsburg

***

"When you wake up in the morning, Pooh, what's the first thing you say to yourself?"

"What's for breakfast?" said Pooh. "What do you say, Piglet?"

"I say, I wonder what's going to happen exciting today?" said Piglet.

Pooh nodded thoughtfully.

"It's the same thing."     -- Winnie-the-Pooh, A. A. Milne

***

This is George.

He lived with his friend, the man with the yellow hat. He was a good little monkey, but he was always curious.     -- Curious George Goes to the Hospital, Margret and H. A. Rey

***

When at last she felt perfectly satisfied with them, she said one morning: "Come along, children. Follow me." Before you could wink an eyelash Jack, Kack, Lack, Mack, Nack, Ouack, Pack, and Quack fell into line, just as they had been taught.

Mrs. Mallard led the way into the water and they swam behind her to the opposite bank. There they waded ashore and waddled along till they came to the highway. Mrs. Mallard stepped out to cross the road. "Honk, honk!" went the horns on the speeding cars. "Qua-a-ack!" went Mrs. Mallard as she tumbled back again. "Quack! Quack! Quack! Quack!" went Jack, Kack, Lack, Mack, Nack, Ouack, Pack, and Quack, just as loud as their little quackers could quack. The cars kept speeding by and honking, and Mrs. Mallard and the ducklings kept right on quack-quack-quacking.

They made such a noise that Michael came running, waving his arms and blowing his whistle. He planted himself in the center of the road, raised one hand to stop the traffic, and then beckoned with the other, the way policeman do, for Mrs. Mallard to cross over.     -- Make Way for Ducklings, Robert McCloskey

***

It was difficult, later, to think of a time when Betsy and Tacy had not been friends. Hill Street came to regard them as almost one person. Betsy's brown braids went with Tacy's red curls, Betsy's plump lets with Tacy's spindly ones, to school and from school, up hill and down, on errands and in play.     -- Betsy-Tacy, Maud Hart Lovelace

***

"My spelling is all Wobbly," said Pooh. "It's good spelling, but it Wobbles, and the letters get in all the wrong places."     -- Winnie-the-Pooh, A. A. Milne

***

I went to sleep with gum in my mouth and now there's gum in my hair and when I got out of bed this morning I tripped on the skateboard and by mistake I dropped my sweater in the sink while the water was running and I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. . . .

I think I'll move to Australia.     --Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day, Judith Viorst

***

That night Toad looked out of his window.

"Drat!" said Toad. "My seeds have not started to grow. They must be afraid of the dark."

Toad went out to his garden with some candles. "I will read the seeds a story," said Toad. "Then they will not be afraid."

Toad read a long story to his seeds.

All the next day Toad sang songs to his seeds. And all the next day Toad read poems to his seeds. And all the next day Toad played music for his seeds.     -- Frog and Toad Together, Arnold Lobel

***

The table was a large one, but the three were all crowded together at one corner of it. "No room! No room!" they cried out when they saw Alice coming. "There's plenty of room!" said Alice indignantly, and she sat down in a large arm-chair at one end of the table.     -- Alice in Wonderland, Lewis Carroll

***

"Thank you, Christopher Robin. You're the only one who seems to understand about tails. They don't think --- that's what's the matter with some of these others. They've no imagination. A tail isn't a tail to them, it's a Little Bit Extra at the back."     -- Winnie-the-Pooh, A. A. Milne

***

The stars are made of lemon juice
And rain makes applesauce.
(Oh you're just talking silly talk.)     -- Rain Makes Applesauce, Julian Scheer

***

In February
it will be
my snowman's
anniversary
with cake for him
and soup for me!
Happy once
happy twice
happy chicken soup with rice.
-- Chicken Soup with Rice, Maurice Sendak

***

Policman small is a traffic cop.

He stands at the street crossing. He wears white gloves. He tells the cars when to go and stop.     -- Policeman Small, Lois Lenski

***

The night before my father sailed he borrowed his father's knapsack and he and the cat packed everything very carefully. He took chewing gum, black rubber boots, a compass, a toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste, six magnifying glasses, a very sharp jackknife, a comb and hairbrush, seven hair ribbons of different colors, an empty grain sack with a label saying "Cranberry," some clean clothes, and enough food to last my father while he was on the ship. He couldn't live on mice, so he took twenty-five peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and six apples, because that's all the apples he could find in the pantry.     -- My Father's Dragon, Ruth Stiles Gannett

***

The night Max wore his wolf suit and made mischief of one kind and another his mother called him "WILD THING!" and Max said "I'LL EAT YOU UP!" so he was sent to bed without eating anything. That very night in Max's room a forest grew and grew --- and grew until his ceiling hung with vines and the walls became the world all around and an ocean tumbled by with a private boat for Max and he sailed off through night and day and in and out of weeks and almost over a year to where the wild things are.     -- Where the Wild Things Are, Maurice Sendak

***

Pooh knew what he meant, but being a Bear of Very Little Brain, couldn't think of the words.     -- The House at Pooh Corner, A. A. Milne

***

Mike Mulligan had a steam shovel, a beautiful red steam shovel. Her name was Mary Anne. Mike Mulligan was very proud of Mary Anne. He always said that she could dig as much in a day as a hundred men could dig in a week, but he had never been quite sure that this was true.      -- Mike Mulligan and His Steam Shovel, Virginia Lee Burton

***

My mother insisted that I write a B & B letter to my grandparents. I told her that I could not write a B & B letter, and she asked me why, and I told her that I did not know what a B & B letter was. She explained --- not too patiently --- that a B & B letter is a bread and butter letter you write to people to thank them for having you as their houseguest. I told her that I was taught never to use the word you are defining in its definition and that she ought to think of a substitute word for letter if she is defining it. Mother then made a remark about how Western Civilization was in a decline because people of my generation knew how to nitpick but not how to write a B & B letter. . . .

When I was down in Florida, Tillie Nachman had said, "The ballpoint pen has been the single biggest factor in the decline of Western Civilization. It makes the written word cheap, fast, and totally without character." My mother and Tillie should get together. Between them, they have come up with the two major reasons why Western Civilization is about to collapse.     -- The View from Saturday, E. L. Konigsburg

***

"You!" said the Caterpillar contemptuously. "Who are you?"

Which brought then back again to the beginning of the conversation. Alice felt a little irritated at the Caterpillar's making such very short remarks, and she drew herself up and said, very gravely, "I think you ought to tell me who you are, first."

"Why?" said the Caterpillar.

Here was another puzzling question; and, as Alice could not think of any good reason, and the Caterpillar seemed to be in a very unpleasant state of mind, she turned away.

"Come back!" the Caterpillar called after her. "I've something important to say!"

This sounded promising, certainly. Alice turned and came back again.

"Keep your temper," said the Caterpillar.     -- Alice in Wonderland, Lewis Carroll

***

It is only with the heart that one can see rightly. What is essential is invisible to the eye.    -- The Little Prince, Antoine de Sainte Exupery

***

"Who taught you to read, Matilda?" Miss Honey asked.

"I just sort of taught myself, Miss Honey."

"And have you read any books all by yourself, any children's books, I mean?"

"I've read all the ones that are in the public library in the High Street, Miss Honey."

"And did you like them?"

"I liked some of them very much indeed," Matilda said, "but I thought others were fairly dull."

"Tell me one that you liked."

"I liked The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe," Matilda said. "I think Mr. C. S. Lewis is a very good writer. But he has one failing. There are no funny bits in his books"

"You are right there," Miss Honey said.

"There aren't many funny bits in Mr. Tolkien either," Matilda said.

"Do you think that all children's books ought to have funny bits in them?" Miss Honey asked.

"I do," Matilda said. "Children are not so serious as grown-ups and they love to laugh."     --Matilda, Roald Dahl

***

In the meadow the Three Billy Goats Gruff got so fat that they could hardly walk home again. They are probably there yet.

So snip, snap snout,

This tale's told out.
-- The Three Billy Goats Gruff, Paul Galdone

danny is two

Dear Daniel,

I am a lucky mama to get to spend this Mother's Day celebrating your entrance into my life two years ago. I still recall every moment of your spectacular arrival, and every moment I've spent with you since has been just as spectacular in part because, Danny, you are a piece of work!

You've recently decided that you have opinions about everything, which is fine and to be expected, but thankfully a lot less frustrating to deal with now that your communication skills are improving. While I wouldn't call you a chatterbox, you're so far reaching speech milestones better than any of your older brothers, which for me is not only a relief but also a breath of fresh air. Added to your opinions is a growing desire for independence, made clear by your stubborn and frequent use of the phrase, "No! I do!"

Alongside the mischievously sly twinkle in your eye you wear the most contagious smile. You are so full of life and pretty easy to please. You love treats and going to the Child Watch at the YMCA. You love to be read to and you still carry around your beloved cloth and binky. I can't believe both how busy you are and how dedicated you are to your routine. You like things to be just so, and won't abandon your play without picking up after yourself first. You love to color -- on paper, on tables, on walls -- and you do so with your left hand. You are increasingly agile and can run wild, jump high, and manage stairs with the best of them.

As I write this, you are playing and laughing with your brothers, and listening to you tickles me, too. You bring such joy to our family, and I'm so grateful that you are mine.

Love,
Mama

Here is how we celebrated two years of Danny Boy:

He opened his big gift -- a big boy balance bike -- yesterday. He's almost too small for it, and is currently only able to shuffle along on it, but he loves it anyway, mostly because it makes him one of the big boys.

 I love how this shot captures how everyone came out to cheer him on during his first ride.

For other gifts, he got a set of animal figurines (that I spent many days collecting one by one with Hobby Lobby's one-use-per-day 40% off coupon -- it was a true labor of love), a mix-and-match monster book from Grandma Joyce and Grandpa Gary, and a set of Color Wonder markers and paper from Grandma Nancy and Grandpa Dave.

The fact that everyone kept wishing him a happy birthday and singing him the birthday song initially confused him and ultimately annoyed him, but when it came time to sing for the cake and ice cream, he was all over it!

   He loves candles, and blowing his out was his favorite part.

brooklyn

I finally saw the movie Brooklyn (I'd only been trying to see it since, what? October?), and oh! How, in that musical Irish brogue, did it speak to me!

You know how when you're young and you move far away from everything you've ever known and loved, and go off to start a new life and have an adventure? And then you go back home to visit, and your loved ones and the landscape do their darndest to lure you back. But you can't go back because it's no longer your home, not really. But where is your home? Because the adventure you've been living doesn't exactly feel like home yet either. So you go back to your new life anyway because a reluctant part of you knows that you actually do belong there now, and it's like a surprising breath of fresh air, and you suddenly get swept up in how much you really do love it, deep down. And before you know it, you've become the old hat, the expert, helping the new ones get their footing, teaching them your best tricks, just like you'd been taught when you first arrived. And your heart confidently knows that you are where you're supposed to be.

But then things change -- you change, your circumstances change. You've grown, and outgrown that first adventure, and it's time for a new one. So you pack your bags and set off for somewhere new, and you get homesick all over again, this time for Brooklyn, that beautiful, brutal place where you left a precious part of your heart. But you press forward anyway because what else can you do? You're the one who asked for this new adventure. And it's a good one, and you like it, but every once in a while something tugs at those homesick heart strings, like your new doctor, who, it turns out, was born and raised in Manhattan -- got her medical degree at NYU -- and during your first appointment lets slip a born and bred "fuhgeddaboudit" and apologizes and all you can say is, no, don't. I love it. It feels like home.

four years of matthew

Dear Matthew,

Has it really been four years since you waltzed into my life unexpectedly early and with a temper that was just as unexpectedly mellow? You are still categorized in my mind as one of my "little boys," even though over this last year you have blossomed in ways that very much prove your desire to be grouped with your older brothers. You've "unmellowed" in often frustrated ways -- your voice has gotten louder as your ability to feel and express anger boils over with sometimes distressing frequency. And you suddenly started finding and voicing your opinions.

But despite these new developments, you are still very much the sweet, mellow Matthew I have known and loved these four years. You still give the best hugs and your enhanced ability to communicate has brought about the most tender and insightful conversations. You are a creature who craves routine, and our days together are pleasantly familiar. Any breaks from our regularly scheduled program bring out your natural inclinations toward hesitancy and reluctance and require advanced and repeated preparation.

This last year has been a big and often overwhelming one for you, and not without its challenges. You managed a move away from the only home you'd known, along with your first year of preschool, which you attend four mornings a week. You've adapted to learn and enjoy both, but they were not easy changes for you. One skill that severely suffered as a consequence was your ability to keep your pants dry. We've tried just about everything, but nothing so far has been permanently helpful. In that regard, it's been a very frustrating year, and it's made me realize that your mellow nature comes with puzzle pieces I can't quite seem to fit together.

I love you, Matthew, and can't imagine my life without you in it. You've been such a calming influence and real blessing to our family, and I'm so grateful that you are mine.

Love,
Mama

***

Birthday celebrations!!!

The day began with his first time in the Big Kid room at the YMCA Child Watch. He was excited yet nervous to go, but he put on his brave face and did a great job. It helped that people he knew from church were also there.

For lunch we went to Chick-Fil-A, but he ended up not wanting to stick around long enough to play on the playground because he wanted to get home to prepare for his play date with his friend, Jacob.

Matthew and Jacob had a lot of fun together, starting off their afternoon together with a round of Go Fish.

It was hard to wait until Dad got home to open presents, but in the end it was worth it. He raked in a collection of penguins, both plush and figurines, along with The Peanuts Movie, a fun book from Grandma Joyce and Grandpa Gary, and a BB-8 shirt from Grandma Nancy and Grandpa Dave.

But the finale came in the form of a balance bike. He likes it, though it'll be some time before he's truly confident riding around on in.

When I had to disappoint him with the news that I did not have the skillz to make him a BB-8 cake, he settled for "brown and white muffin cakes." So I pulled out the copycat Hostess cupcake recipe I made a few years ago for Caleb's birthday and they fit the bill.

Just before bed, he "talked" with Grandma Joyce and Grandpa Gary on Facetime -- I use air quotes there because he didn't actually talk. But he did warm up enough eventually to show them some of his gifts.

I think he had a pretty great day. I can't believe he's already four, and yet at the same time also can't believe he hasn't been a part of our family for longer.

and so she sewed

Perhaps it's because we've just made it through another Christmas season, or perhaps simply because it's wintertime, but whatever the reason, I've been cranking out sewing projects like nobody's business. Here's some of what I've been working on lately:

Matching Twin-Sized Bedspreads and Pillow Shams
I made these to give to Garrett and Caleb for Christmas. They are the biggest quilts I've attempted to make, and are the reason that I think I'll stick to lap- and baby-sized quilts for now, thank you very much. I am not equipped to make large quilts. Also, somewhere along the way I didn't do my math right, so they aren't even as big as they were supposed to be. They work all right as bedspreads for a tight-fitting bunk bed, but they wouldn't really work on a regular, unstacked twin. I wish I liked better how they turned out (though I do love the Starry Night fabric, in part because the boys have such fond memories of seeing that paining in person at the MoMA). (Also this is probably the nicest you'll ever see their beds look. Because I made them.)

Irish Chain
This was initially supposed to be a new bedspread quilt for our bed (so, queen sized), but as I mentioned above, big quilts are hard! So I decided to stop at lap sized, and I'm glad I did. I didn't want to hate/ruin this one. It's not yet complete, but the top is pieced (as seen in the photo) and the layers are sandwiched together. I'll be starting on the hand quilting of it soon.

Baby Irish Chain
Since I opted to not make this Irish chain quilt as big as originally intended, I had a lot of already pieced squares leftover --- enough to make a baby-sized version. It, too, is still incomplete, but, like its bigger counterpart, the top is pieced (as seen in the photo), the layers are sandwiched, and I've just started on the hand quilting of it.

Felt Heart Garland
Not a quilting project, but I did use a sewing machine to put it together. Yes, I cut out all those hearts myself, a project that, for what it's worth, turned out to be much more therapeutic than hand cramping. I love how it turned out and how it looks gracing the mantel of our non-functional fireplace.
 

Attic Stairs II
You may remember that about a year ago I completed the first attic stairs quilt. Except for the backing fabric, this one is identical to that one, even down to the hand quilting. I'm happy to finally be done with both of them. All told, this scrappy quilt project took me several years of on-again, off-again work on it. I'm glad to have it all wrapped up so I can more on to the next project feeling less cluttered, but I do love how they turned out.

Receiving Blanket Baby Quilt
This was a quick project that I made for my sister, Katie, who is due with her third baby (and first boy!) next month. I made it by piecing together 5" squares cut out of a pack of coordinating flannel receiving blankets, backing it with coordinating minky fabric, and tying it together with yarn. I think this might be my new favorite personalized baby gift.

Curtains
Our kitchen windows have desperately needed some sort of treatment since we moved in, and I finally got around/got up the guts to make curtains. I found the cheeriest and most charming cherry-themed fabric for super cheap at Walmart, and they do as much to brighten the room as they do to conceal us from the busy street and parking lot they look out on. I'm really pleased with how they turned out.