A Fine Day, Indeed

Today was what I would call "A Fine Day". Once again, I was struck by how quickly the boys are growing into fine young men while still retaining their childhood graces and the wells from which they draw their strength.

Zorak and I arrived at VBS for the Closing Presentation (a little performance the groups put on to summarize their week and their lessons). As we found a seat to the left of the classes and settled in to enjoy the children, our eyes sought our own from among the throng of heads bobbing eagerly up and down in the rows. John was easy to spot: he was in the front row, facing backwards, bouncing his chin on the back of his chair and chatting away happily with a little girl in the second row. Ah, good to see he's paying attention. *grin* I had spoken with his teacher earlier this week and knew that he actually paid attention wonderfully most of the time- she thought he was closer to turning five than just-turned-four. This morning, though, at 8:30, he had begged to stay in bed "just a little longer". This, from a child who is normally up by six, at the latest! So, hey, a little case of the squiggles isn't bad. He looked so contented and happy. He giggled and signed "I love you!" when he spotted us in the seats.

We found James a few rows back, almost directly across from us. He sat hunched up, looking sullen and on the verge of tears. My "Mommy alarm" went off, so the three of us (Zorak, Jacob and I) sidled across the aisle to the row behind James. I tapped his shoulder. He ignored the tap. I scratched his back. He gently and quietly shrugged that off, too. Hmmm. His teacher then tapped his shoulder and said, "Look behind you." He turned his small, sad face up to us and the instant recognition that lit his eyes was matched only by the speed with which he flung himself at me, wrapped both arms around my waist and buried his head in my torso. He stayed there, clutching me as if he was afraid he would disapper if he let go. I wasn't about to let that happen. We stayed there for a full couple of minutes. He finally lifted his face, smiled a smile that reached up to his reddened eyes and said, "I'm just so happy to see you!" Then, as if nothing had happened, he was once again fine with the world and all that lay ahead of him. (We spoke with his teacher after the show and she explained that he'd seen Zorak by the door and was sad that he couldn't go to him, nor had he seen that I was there, too.)

Both boys smiled like maniacs every chance they got, sang with more gusto than I thought possible, and bounded along with their classes like Retrievers on a good Autumn walk. They looked so... so big! The pang in my heart at the loss of my babies was easily soothed by the warm comfort of raising such incredible young men. Our little men, our guys, they are amazing, and we get to be a part of their lives. Just when I began to look appreciatively at the other, "older", boys running about the church grounds, I felt a wee hand grasp mine. I looked down into huge smiling blue eyes. Then wee arms wrapped around one of my legs, and I looked down to see the tousled, sun streaked head of my other beautiful boy. They stayed that way as we left the Sanctuary, and with a little grin I remembered that they are growing, but they are, after all, only five and four. The world is a magical place, but Mom and Dad are still magical people. Our little guys, for a time yet, anyway.

Jacob has a mouth just bursting with teeth. He's standing unaided for small bits of time now, too, climbing and cruisng his way around the furniture. His favorite people in the world are his brothers (Zorak and I run a close second in this category, but we don't quite have the "fun factor" going for us that The Brothers do.) He blows the sweetest kisses and growls like a little bear, which cracks us up six ways from Sunday. He understands so much and communicates so well. He'll be 11 months on Aug 9th, and yes, he's small (still wears 6-9 mo. clothes). He's fully functional and very happy, and there's no need for concern. I wish there was a way to convey all that without having to just hand out tracts to everyone we come in contact with each day.

I got this from Lynne- It certainly explains a lot! I have SO been talking to the wrong muse (or I've been given the wrong muse!) ;-)


Urania


Seek One of the Nine Greek Muses
brought to you by Quizilla

(Note: I took the quiz again this evening, and got Calliope... which, I am hoping, is more accurate. Who do you talk to about switching muses, anyway?)

The temperatures have dropped, but the humidity has gone up (I'm thinkin' it's around 310% lately...) Everything has a time and a purpose. I may not like the side effects of summer, but the reasons for it are bountiful and glorious. (My less-than-inspired whines over summer will re-commence at some point, I'm sure, but for tonight, I'm willing to think of it as "a necessary evil".)

Alrighty then, I'm going to go play and pretend the dishwasher isn't hollerin' for some attention! Be good to each other!

*I almost forgot! This was posted at TWTM forums the other day, and it is hilarious! My personal favorite... well, I can't pick, but I really want this one for the Suburban:

Si hoc adfixum in obicle legere potes, et liberaliter educatus et nimis propinquus ades.
~ "If you can read this bumper sticker, you are both very well educated and much too close."

~Dy