Mar 23, 2010
I thought some of you would like to see the video of Abraham and me telling 5-year-old Orison about his twin sisters. Actually, I know some of you want to see this, because you specifically asked me to film it!
A little background…Orison desperately wanted a sister this time around. He’s been praying for another one for two and a half years! So this was a sweet moment all around.
Enjoy!
143 Comments so far
Mar 10, 2010
Recently, Orison has been asking to watch “that movie where the man jumps into the water and swims around.”
WHAT?!?!?
I tried to get the name out of him, but he couldn’t remember. I started going through his movie-watching history (a very short list), and remembered that one time he saw a portion of the A&E Pride & Prejudice.
“Do you mean ‘Pride & Prejudice?’”
“Yeah! The man jumps into the water and swims around!”
Anyone know what part he’s talking about? That’s right, Mr. Darcy is trying to cool his jets over Miss Elizabeth Bennett and dives into the pond at Pemberley, only to meet with her face-to-face as he’s walking back up to the house, soaked to the bone.
Ahhh, “Private Predges”–one of my favorite movies (and books).
So last week, when his Aunt Talitha was babysitting for the afternoon, he suggested they watch Private Predges. (She doesn’t take too much convincing to watch a Jane Austen flick.)
Later that night, this is what he told me:
“Private Predges” was way before cars.
Why did they ride horses all the time? And why didn’t they say giddyup? They just said “Drive on.”
Then, yesterday, he convinced our regular babysitter that they should watch some of it! Here’s what she told me in an email:
He asked for Pride and Prejudice. I laughed. I assumed it would be okay for him to watch, since he relayed the whole story to me. I said if he was a good boy, we could watch a little bit but not the whole thing. He was okay with that.
With an affinity for Jane Austen at 5, I think he’s going to make some lady very happy someday!
So, one of my minor goals for raising sons is being achieved! Perhaps someday he’ll be a man who happily sits through multiple screenings of Jane Austen movies throughout his marriage! He’s supposed to live with his wife in an understanding way, right?
Or maybe he’ll be Darcy-like: strong, level-headed, generous, kind…a mother can dream.
48 Comments so far
Mar 8, 2010
Remember me, months ago, already stressing a bit about how/where we were going to educate Orison for Kindergarten?
Well friends, we have an answer: Seven Hills Classical Academy.
I was getting really nervous in the past couple weeks while waiting for the schools I applied to to do their lotteries. I don’t think I’ve ever trusted the US Postal Service less–I found myself wanting to call the charter schools multiple times a day and frantically ask, “Did you get our application?!?!? Are you SURE?!?!?”
I was so nervous that I started filling out private school applications like crazy, and when I wasn’t doing that, I was mentally planning how I would be able to homeschool with a 2-year-old and a newborn in tow (which was something I really didn’t want to do).
But we got our answer on Sunday evening when I finally checked the mail from Saturday! HA!
I saw the envelope in the stack of junk mail as I was coming up the stairs, and instantly couldn’t breathe. I got to the dining room table and was praying out loud, “Please God, please God, please God…”. When I got the envelope open I was so nervous I couldn’t even read the letter–all I could do was scan it for the important words.
Due to overwhelming interest in our school… (oh no)
lottery was held… (yeah, yeah… get on with it)
(not breathing at this point, folks)
pleased to inform you…
PLEASED TO INFORM YOU?!?!? PLEASED TO INFORM YOU?!?!? Then I was finally able to read the rest of the letter!
To make this even sweeter…
I’m absolutely THRILLED if you couldn’t tell!
17 Comments so far
Feb 22, 2010
Every year around major holidays, there’s a particular sting for a mom missing her only daughter. It comes when I set out to find a decent-looking set of clothes for my sons to wear.
Here’s the criteria I’m usually looking for:
You’d be surprised how difficult this quest can be. I try department stores, and then the lesser-expensive department stores (Target, Kohl’s), and then move onto stores like Marshall’s.
What I hoped would be a fun way to buy some cute clothes for my kids usually turns into frustration and anger, though. I spend five minutes just trying to find the boys’ dress clothes amidst the sea of girl dress clothes. Eventually I might find a rack or two, and I’ll think from looking at the front, “Oh, this one looks nice…” and then I turn it over and there’s a HUGE applique on the back that says something like “Little Devil” with a demon face on it. What?!?! Do people buy this stuff???
I’m sure the equivalent for little girls would say something like “Perfect Angel” or something sweet like that. Because we all know that girls are just so sweet and perfect, and boys so…not???
I’m sorry, I know it probably sounds like I’m bitter. I’ll admit it, I get angry. It really sucks to go in the kids’ clothes section at all sometimes. And then to be so poignantly reminded that I have no business shopping on 90% of the racks hurts even more. It’s like there’s a big sign slapped on all those racks:
“You Don’t Belong Here.”
I know there are other women like me, living without their only daughter. There’s a particular hole for a mom, a woman, who loses her chance to raise her little girl. So many hopes and dreams die with that little girl.
One thing I’ve learned on my journey is that if I take the time to listen to what’s going on in my heart, all this anger and frustration, and let God pull me deeper, past the self-protectiveness of the anger, I get down to the pain of it. If I will get honest with God there in my anger, he always shows me just how much I’m hurting. Somehow the wall of anger crumbles and I’m left in the rubble, weeping.
Because underneath the anger is always the pain. I can stay there in the anger and grow bitter and hard (trust me, the temptation is there), but God has helped me see that it’s always better to let myself feel all of the emotions (first the anger) and then search for what’s really going on in my heart. Pretty much 100% of the time, under the anger is pain. More pain to feel, more tears to cry, more aspects of the loss that I need to grieve.
Sometimes I don’t want to go there. Sometimes I just want to rant and rail against my situation. Sometimes I just want to buy clothes for my sons. It’s hard and frustrating. Sometimes it feels like there’s nowhere to go from the pain–it can rise up anytime or anywhere. Grief is not just for grieving places, like the cemetery. It happens in other stranger places–you know, places like Kohl’s.
I suppose the other option would be to pretend like I don’t feel the anger. “No, no, no…it’s bad to be angry. God took Felicity away and I have to be happy and content with that.” If I decide on this option, I also miss the chance to grieve, just like I would have if I would’ve stayed hard and angry and bitter.
But Jesus doesn’t turn away the grievers. “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.” I am called blessed. And I’m promised His comfort.
This is blessed assurance. It’s like a great big sign at the foot of the Cross that say:
“You Belong Here.”
32 Comments so far
Jan 31, 2010
Orison is Morrow’s personal speech and language coach. Morrow’s got a pretty good vocab going already, but I’m expecting drastic growth if their regular sessions continue.
Here’s a lesson overheard recently:
Orison: Morrow, say Mama.
Morrow: Ma-ma!
Orison: Morrow, say ball.
Morrow: Bau!
Orison: Morrow, say Daddy.
Morrow: Da-dee!
Orison: Morrow, say baby.
Morrow: Bay-bee!
Orison: Morrow, say international.
Morrow (much more uncertainly): na-na-na.
A couple weeks ago, they had a routine with animal sounds that they did. And you’ll see from the video, Orison’s not the only one quizzing him on his words. (I’m a speech pathologist! And Abraham’s a word freak, alright???)
I love Morrow’s complete lack of self-consciousness. He’ll try almost any word, especially if it’s presented by his beloved brother Orison.
26 Comments so far
Dec 24, 2009
You are warmly invited into my parents’ living room in Erie, Pennsylvania for…
It’s a little long, but trust me, this is the short version. The original was over 30 minutes long! The kid just wouldn’t stop singing!
So, hunker down with a mug of hot chocolate and enjoy! But drink at your own risk, because there are some laughs that might send it out your nose. Don’t say I didn’t warn you! I don’t want any Christmas lawsuits because of your burnt nasal passages….
Or, if you need to get dinner ready this evening, get your church clothes ironed, or get some last-minute gifts wrapped, plop your kids in front of the computer for ten minutes of family-friendly holiday entertainment! Just my little gift to you….
And for those of you who hang out until the end, Morrow makes an appearance as a Christmas dancer! He goes absolutely nuts anytime he hears Jingle Bells!
This is our joy-filled way of saying to all of you: Merry Christmas from The Pipers!
44 Comments so far
Dec 7, 2009
Our five-year-old is in love with Christmas. I know he’s not alone, all kids like Christmas. But I realized that his obsession excitement is helping me love Christmas more.
Not that I didn’t love Christmas before, it’s just that it becomes new and fresh and wonderful when you experience it through the excited and eager eyes of a child. That sounded really cheesy, but it’s true.
Last night my mother-in-law lovingly babysat our kids. One thing you should know about my mother-in-law: she has the most Christmas decorations of anyone I know. It’s like a Christmas Spectacular over there. And as you can imagine, for Orison, it’s a-ma-zing!
There are nativity sets from all over the world, lights in the windows, and even a life-size manger for re-enacting.
Orison told my mother-in-law that he was being Joseph and he was taking care of baby Jesus. She wrote a sweet and beautiful post reflecting on that idea.
Most days you can find him playing with his Playmobil Nativity set or with this magnetic doodad he got from… can you guess? His grandmama (the above-mentioned fellow Christmas fan)! He used this magnetic set to do Sunday School lessons for me and Abraham the other day.
He also loves to sing. There have been lots of traditional carols and some non-traditional ones he writes himself:
So if you’re needing a little shot in the arm of Christmas spirit, let us know! Orison would be more than happy to accomodate. He’s got enough to go around!
16 Comments so far
Nov 27, 2009
I’m getting this post up during the final minutes of Thanksgiving 2009!
My mother-in-law posted a video of some of our racous family moments today if you’re curious. (Bonus! You’ll see footage of Morrow walking and dancing. Aaand… you’ll get to see my awesome dance moves during a kiddy dance party with Orison and his cousin Grace.)
I mean, who wouldn’t want to see that?
I decided to finish the night quietly, knitting a pair of mittens for Morrow. The weather’s gotten really cold, really fast! So while Abraham sleeps (the lump in the back of the picture) I post on my blog and knit.
I’m thankful for a quiet end to Thanksgiving 2009.
9 Comments so far
Nov 16, 2009
No matter how much I wanted to, I didn’t wake up in El Salvador today. My week with Compassion International is over, and I’m grieving that.
I got home Friday night around 11pm and woke Orison (our then-4-year-old) and he greeted me very drowsily. In the morning he didn’t even remember it! But when he woke up Saturday morning, he was FIVE! That’s right, I got home just in time for his birthday.
We spent the day pretty quietly together as a family. But Abraham and I were so tired that by about 5pm we both knew we needed to get out of the house or we were going to be miserable until bedtime. In some random moment of insanity, Abraham suggested that we take Orison to ride a few rides at the Mall of America (something he’s only done a couple times and would be totally thrilled by).
So… it was Saturday night at the Mall of America. Not for the faint of heart, my friends. I don’t think we’d ever been there on a Saturday night before. It was so.stinkin’.busy. So full of people with waaaay too much.
As we were talking toward the amusement park area, I told Abraham, “I’m feeling a little sick to my stomach.”
“Literally?” He asks. (All too often I’m actually sick to my stomach, so he has to make sure….)
“No… more heartsick.”
“So, you’re sick to the stomach of your heart?”
“Exactly.”
I mean, the day before I was still seeing tin-roofed, dilapidated shacks that people call homes. The day before I was still in the thick of El Salvador and it’s poverty. And I was still there in my heart and mind. But somehow my body was travelling through the Mall of America.
Walking paradox, no?
I keep thinking about objects in space, and how they have to very carefully calculate how the object will reenter the earth’s atmosphere, or else any number of catastrophic ends will result (blowing up, exploding, catching on fire). Perhaps a trip to the Mall of America wasn’t the best reentry strategy.
I’ve already cried a few times today, my emotions just barely below the surface. I feel okay with that, though. If I were just pushing it all down and refusing to let it touch me, that would be unhealthy. My mentor tells me, “Don’t be afraid of tears. Tears are often a sign that the Holy Spirit’s at work.”
So that, for now, is my reentry strategy. Try to let the tears come as they need to. Remember what I saw. And try to avoid the Mall of America.
37 Comments so far
Oct 31, 2009
Orison went trick-or-treating for the first time tonight.
I wish I could’ve bottled up some of his enthusiasm and zest as he ran, full-speed, from house to house.
I wish I could’ve apologized to all the people whose doorbells were rung in rapid-fire fashion as he waited to scream “Trick or Treat” with all the excitement a four-year-old body can handle. He didn’t seem to hear me when I said, “Only ring it once!”
He dressed as a cowboy, and he was the cutest little cowboy there ever was.
There’s another pretty cute cowboy in this town, too, and they joined forces for a little croonin’ before bed.
(Yes, they both have *real* cowboy boots!)
Happy Halloween, y’all!
22 Comments so far
