Still here

I realise that I have been a little slack this summer with my blogging. I imagine that my posting will pick up once the school bell starts ringing again. Dave has been at home for almost two months now and having someone in the house between the ages of 18 and 35 every day, all day (except when he's on a tractor baling hay) does something for one's need for Internet conversation. But, Dave is back in the classroom come Sept. 1st and I will be alone with two boys under the age of four. Look for a post that day...

Speaking of our two youngest, our very youngest (Joseph, 21 months) is pictured below. I mentioned in my last post that he had a a slightly allergic run in with a balloon. We have had balloons around numerous times and Joe had never had a problem before. However, the new shiny balloons caused our little boy to break out in welts while his eye and nose ran with bodily fluids. So, I took a picture.

No, the picture wasn't just for my readers; it's also for our doctor so that I can just show her the shot instead of launching into an elaborate description of what I remember happening. Here's hoping that the welts don't lead to anything more or we'll be sending gifts to birthday parties via Canada Post. This is the five of us last night at a local stop known for its crooked waterways. Dave was determined to snap this shot but I was equally determined to keep everyone alive and, thus, was getting a little, ummm, upset. The smile is fake. The little boy in my arms who is set on throwing himself into the crooked waterway is very real. (Just click on the picture and all will be clear.)

The four children below (two of whom are ours) are enjoying a canoe ride courtesy of their swim teachers on the last day of lessons. The last week of lessons was finally summer-like and erased all memories of the survival lessons from earlier on in the summer. And, if I can toot Jacob's and Hannah's horns, they passed two badges this summer. Way to go, twinlets!

Lessons ended on Friday but the fun didn't stop there. There was a wrap up BBQ on Monday. There were about 150 kids there with their responsible adults as well as many hotdogs, hamburgers, chips and balloons. Dave's time was spent keeping Joseph from the balloons. Jacob's time was spent entering the jellybean-in-the-jar contest and the break-the-balloon-with-the-dart contest. Jacob loves contests; if he were of age he would close the Casino each night. After Dave and I decided that we no longer wanted to keep Joseph from the balloons or allow our kids to participate in the drowning of a child, we packed up and began to leave. Jacob insisted that he tell his swim teacher that we were going so that he could find out if he had won the jellybeans. His eagerness resulted in his teacher asking if we could stay a few extra minutes as they were handing out the swimming awards. Little Jacob's ears perked up: Awards?

All 150 kids surrounded the four teachers in eager anticipation of winning some sort of acknowledgement of their accomplishments. Jacob positioned himself to quickly receive the best swimmer award. Hannah sat quietly waiting to cheer her brother on. And then their swim teacher made the announcement: "And the most improved female swimmer for Session One is ... Hannah Afelskie." Hannah's eyes grew large and she accepted her gift bag as only a shy, little girl can do: quickly and with eyes cast downward. My heart beat in happiness for my only girl. Meanwhile, her twin brother was beginning to bounce as the next prize was surely his.

But it wasn't.

I watched as he quickly cast his eyes downwards in an effort to hide the tears that welled up as quickly as he had been willing to accept the award. I stayed put. I sensed that this moment was one in which he was making a decision that would help shape his character. He breathed deeply and slowly and politely asked Hannah if he could see what was in her gift bag. The tears sprang to my eyes and I thanked God for the grace that He extended to my little boy in that moment: the grace of not giving him the award and the grace to accept that. It was an incredibly poignant moment for me as I literally saw my eldest boy grow up just a little right before me. (I have to say that the shirtless boy in the grey shorts seems to be channeling Jacob's disappointment.)

Fortunately, that morning, some new books had arrived in the mail from Amazon and Jacob's sore feelings were eased by E. B. White's famous pig. Awesome. Terrific. Some kids.