Though it was not without its hard times, overall, this has been a wonderful summer.
For all of the things I don't have: family that lives close by, a job for my husband that is close to home, the convenience of stores being close by, peace and serenity when I walk into my yard without worrying about a bear coming by, I do have one thing that makes it all worthwhile.
My husband is home in the summer.
That one thing keeps me going on the hard days. Seriously.
It has been amazing to have him home. There is nothing like the summer for us. Brian is much more relaxed than he is normally in the evenings or on the weekends simply because his work is behind him. He is at rest. Other than his (very) part-time second job, he is all ours.
We've done a lot this summer. We've been to two different zoos. We traveled to my family twice (only for doctor appointments, in fact, one of the visits I didn't even see my brother and sister). We also went to NY to say goodbye to Brian's sister who was moving. The park was visited a number of times, in fact, we went to several different parks. We brought the boys to the lake to play in the water a couple of times. Brian got to take Caleb to a concert (it was too late in the day for Silas). We went to the mall (an hour away, so it is a big deal) just this past Monday. Oh, and we went to the library a few times.
It was so fun to get out, especially after Caleb, Silas, and I were trapped during the year due to my driving ban. It was tricky getting out with Silas, because unlike Caleb two years ago, Silas's naps are still a mess. I try very hard to stick to the "schedule", but we had trouble this summer for the sake of getting out. With Caleb two years ago, he had a great first nap at the same time every single day, we did our going out after his nap, and we came home in time for his second nap. He never slept in the car, and it was wonderful. Not so much with Silas.
Brian and I attacked some cleaning that we don't normally do, namely, downstairs. We worked side-by-side on many things, and he even graciously used his muscles to scrub the tub for me when I was cleaning the bathroom, because I am going to take advantage of additional arm strength when I have it.
It has also been so good for our marriage to have Brian home. You would think we'd be sick of each other, but we are not. I love being with Brian and doing things as a family. As I said before, when Brian isn't working, it brings a different level to our marriage. There is no job to occupy his thoughts and no worries to deal with at the workplace. He is also better able to identify with me here, although it isn't the same when he is gone.
Like all good things, this summer must, too, come to an end. I am having a harder time letting it go than usual. Perhaps it is because my boys are both difficult in their own ways. This truly is the hardest time for us, as Silas's delays have recently unfolded, and now we have two boys who are developmentally behind. More than the delays, though, it is the attitude. Meltdowns abound in this house. Having my partner with me makes it so much easier.
Most of all, I'll miss seeing Brian with the boys, all the time. He is such a fun, loving daddy. He is also the perfect counterpart to me. I'm the ever diligent one, the boring one, the one who is always squeezing in a chore when possible. Daddy is the laidback, silly, goofy one. Don't get me wrong. He is also the stern one. I need him, more than he knows.
We'll miss you, Daddy! But we'll always be here, waiting for you at the end of the day, with a hot meal on the table.
I love you, darling!
Wednesday, August 31, 2016
Thursday, August 25, 2016
A Pit Called Autism
It is clear that the baby that Brian came home to at the start of the summer is not the same baby he will be leaving in September.
Silas has changed over the summer, and it is apparent that some signs of autism are peeking out. He is a bit young to be officially diagnosed, but since Caleb is in the spectrum, it is not unlikely that Silas will be also. At Silas's well-visit yesterday, our concerns were validated.
How has he changed? Besides how he has not changed (meaning, he still won't self-feed, put anything in his mouth, or let me give him various styles of sippy cups), he has become very clingy. No lie, no exaggeration, in the morning he comes to me at least every 15-20 minutes wanting to nurse. When we traveled to NJ last week for a doctor appointment, my parents witnessed this and can vouch for me. While this behavior doesn't continue all day, he still nurses very frequently, much more than a twelve-month old should.
He is also very feisty. Whether or not this is an autistic trait, I don't know, but diaper changes have become an all-out wrestling match for gold. He is strong! He resists being laid down, and when we were at the doctor's yesterday, they witnessed his display and immediately felt sorry for me when I said I go through this all the time! How nice it was to be understood, even when I wasn't seeking it! You may say that all babies are like this, and I agree- to an extent. Silas's level of feisty is a bit over-the-top, and he responds as if it is torture to have a diaper change.
His sleep is still not what it should be, and this also can be a sign of autism. During and after a rough few days when we traveled and he regressed, he seems to have gotten a bit better, thank goodness. For all the sleep training I have done, we can't seem to get him to where he needs to be, and it is very frustrating.
He is also behind on eating solids, and still prefers baby food over real food, and chokes very easily. Or, he prefers no food at all (like yesterday morning), and only wants my breast.
I have quit going to church. It is impossible for me to sit there and hold Silas the whole service, and if I am going to run around chasing him, I would rather do so in the comfort of my own home. Brian and Caleb go by themselves. In all honesty, if I am being open and truthful, I don't miss it. As nice as they are, I don't feel like the people there understand one iota of what we are going through, and often give flippant, one-liners to our problems, as if that one line is the problem-solver.
Autism is a dark pit. I have battled with depression this whole school year, largely, I believe, due to autism. Unless you are a parent of an autistic child, you simply cannot understand. It is an awful blackness. While Caleb is on the lower end of the spectrum, thank goodness, it still is an ugly, mysterious "disease" and it hurts watching your child go through it.
Don't misunderstand me. I do have MUCH to be thankful for. Both Caleb and Silas make excellent eye contact. (I am praying that Silas doesn't lose his, because there is often regression when it comes to autism.) Caleb is not off in his own world. He is a bit odd at times, and has many characteristics of autism, but he is here with us. Thank the Lord!
Still, it is a dark pit, nonetheless. The tempter tantrums and meltdowns are enough to send me to an insane asylum at times. The fact that we have to repeat Caleb so often can drive us crazy too. He will repeat words and we simply must repeat after him, or else his temper flairs. While we do this just about all the time, we are only human, and sometimes get wrapped up in our own thoughts. When we do, he lets us know he is mad.
Brian and I have just made a key decision. We will be doing a gluten-free, casein-free diet for our boys. We started a gluten-free diet months ago, but we were told Caleb did not have a gluten allergy, so we decided to quit. However, I had still been wondering if it would be beneficial. In my research, I have seen that a gluten sensitivity is not the same as a gluten allergy, and he still might reap the benefits. Silas has gluten through my milk. The harder part will be giving up dairy. I need to take a few weeks to prepare, to rid my pantry and fridge of some products, and take the plunge on this new diet. I also have to do it, as Silas has my milk. (Goodbye, my delicious, homemade coffee creamer!)
While this diet does not look easy by any means (one mother said she cried a week before starting it, because it changes your whole life, and your old standby recipes won't work), it has helped many children with autism. We will only know if it will work with Caleb and Silas if we do it. Might it be a waste? Sure. It might be. But we will only find out if we try.
We will probably be met with resistance, especially with Caleb, who will not understand where his yogurt and cheese have gone. This will be the hardest part of all. Prayers are welcome.
Brian and I have both been extremely discouraged as of late. It's been so hard for us, so draining. (We just had a diaper change with Silas, and it was an all-out battle.) I have begged Brian if there was any way he could find a job in NJ near my family so I don't have to be alone all day, every day. But life isn't that simple.
For now, we must walk this road. Please pray that we can get out of this pit. It is awfully dark and lonely down here.
Silas has changed over the summer, and it is apparent that some signs of autism are peeking out. He is a bit young to be officially diagnosed, but since Caleb is in the spectrum, it is not unlikely that Silas will be also. At Silas's well-visit yesterday, our concerns were validated.
How has he changed? Besides how he has not changed (meaning, he still won't self-feed, put anything in his mouth, or let me give him various styles of sippy cups), he has become very clingy. No lie, no exaggeration, in the morning he comes to me at least every 15-20 minutes wanting to nurse. When we traveled to NJ last week for a doctor appointment, my parents witnessed this and can vouch for me. While this behavior doesn't continue all day, he still nurses very frequently, much more than a twelve-month old should.
He is also very feisty. Whether or not this is an autistic trait, I don't know, but diaper changes have become an all-out wrestling match for gold. He is strong! He resists being laid down, and when we were at the doctor's yesterday, they witnessed his display and immediately felt sorry for me when I said I go through this all the time! How nice it was to be understood, even when I wasn't seeking it! You may say that all babies are like this, and I agree- to an extent. Silas's level of feisty is a bit over-the-top, and he responds as if it is torture to have a diaper change.
His sleep is still not what it should be, and this also can be a sign of autism. During and after a rough few days when we traveled and he regressed, he seems to have gotten a bit better, thank goodness. For all the sleep training I have done, we can't seem to get him to where he needs to be, and it is very frustrating.
He is also behind on eating solids, and still prefers baby food over real food, and chokes very easily. Or, he prefers no food at all (like yesterday morning), and only wants my breast.
I have quit going to church. It is impossible for me to sit there and hold Silas the whole service, and if I am going to run around chasing him, I would rather do so in the comfort of my own home. Brian and Caleb go by themselves. In all honesty, if I am being open and truthful, I don't miss it. As nice as they are, I don't feel like the people there understand one iota of what we are going through, and often give flippant, one-liners to our problems, as if that one line is the problem-solver.
Autism is a dark pit. I have battled with depression this whole school year, largely, I believe, due to autism. Unless you are a parent of an autistic child, you simply cannot understand. It is an awful blackness. While Caleb is on the lower end of the spectrum, thank goodness, it still is an ugly, mysterious "disease" and it hurts watching your child go through it.
Don't misunderstand me. I do have MUCH to be thankful for. Both Caleb and Silas make excellent eye contact. (I am praying that Silas doesn't lose his, because there is often regression when it comes to autism.) Caleb is not off in his own world. He is a bit odd at times, and has many characteristics of autism, but he is here with us. Thank the Lord!
Still, it is a dark pit, nonetheless. The tempter tantrums and meltdowns are enough to send me to an insane asylum at times. The fact that we have to repeat Caleb so often can drive us crazy too. He will repeat words and we simply must repeat after him, or else his temper flairs. While we do this just about all the time, we are only human, and sometimes get wrapped up in our own thoughts. When we do, he lets us know he is mad.
Brian and I have just made a key decision. We will be doing a gluten-free, casein-free diet for our boys. We started a gluten-free diet months ago, but we were told Caleb did not have a gluten allergy, so we decided to quit. However, I had still been wondering if it would be beneficial. In my research, I have seen that a gluten sensitivity is not the same as a gluten allergy, and he still might reap the benefits. Silas has gluten through my milk. The harder part will be giving up dairy. I need to take a few weeks to prepare, to rid my pantry and fridge of some products, and take the plunge on this new diet. I also have to do it, as Silas has my milk. (Goodbye, my delicious, homemade coffee creamer!)
While this diet does not look easy by any means (one mother said she cried a week before starting it, because it changes your whole life, and your old standby recipes won't work), it has helped many children with autism. We will only know if it will work with Caleb and Silas if we do it. Might it be a waste? Sure. It might be. But we will only find out if we try.
We will probably be met with resistance, especially with Caleb, who will not understand where his yogurt and cheese have gone. This will be the hardest part of all. Prayers are welcome.
Brian and I have both been extremely discouraged as of late. It's been so hard for us, so draining. (We just had a diaper change with Silas, and it was an all-out battle.) I have begged Brian if there was any way he could find a job in NJ near my family so I don't have to be alone all day, every day. But life isn't that simple.
For now, we must walk this road. Please pray that we can get out of this pit. It is awfully dark and lonely down here.
Saturday, August 20, 2016
Five Years
Five years ago today, at 1:30 p.m., I was a radiant bride. I was wearing a beautiful white dress (purchased for $99, thank you), my hair and makeup were fixed so prettily. But more than all that, I wore a glow that can only be worn by a bride on her wedding day.
Five years later, I don't look quite so radiant. Two children later (and a baby who still refuses to sleep through the night), I am just plain exhausted. These days, I don't sparkle quite like I did that day. Instead, I work to make the toilet bowl shine and the kitchen glow after dinner is all put away.
These days, life is not easy. But still, after five years, my husband is by my side. To his credit, he hasn't left me yet!
Today, I donned my glimmering bridal headband, earrings, and bracelet that I wore five years ago. It is a little tradition I started, so I can feel a bit more connected to that day. They came with me to the zoo, where Brian and I brought our boys. Today, we celebrated as a family.
I'm so grateful for my husband, and I hope we have forty-five more years together!
I love you, darling.
Five years later, I don't look quite so radiant. Two children later (and a baby who still refuses to sleep through the night), I am just plain exhausted. These days, I don't sparkle quite like I did that day. Instead, I work to make the toilet bowl shine and the kitchen glow after dinner is all put away.
These days, life is not easy. But still, after five years, my husband is by my side. To his credit, he hasn't left me yet!
Today, I donned my glimmering bridal headband, earrings, and bracelet that I wore five years ago. It is a little tradition I started, so I can feel a bit more connected to that day. They came with me to the zoo, where Brian and I brought our boys. Today, we celebrated as a family.
I'm so grateful for my husband, and I hope we have forty-five more years together!
I love you, darling.
Wednesday, August 10, 2016
Silas: Twelve Months
Dear Silas,
I remember one year ago today pretty well. I was already overdue with you eight days, and I was more than ready for you to come out. I began having small contractions throughout the day, but I was in disbelief and I didn't really think I was in labor. Daddy and I had one last appointment with my midwife near the hospital, and thinking we probably would not come back home, we packed our car and said goodbye to Caleb. I cried after we left him with Grammy, because it was the first time we left him behind.
We saw my midwife, and she didn't think we were in active labor yet, either. I remember clearly how she was trying to decide what to do. Should she send us home, almost an hour away? She decided to get us checked into the hospital. She gave me some homeopathic treatments that might help jump start labor, and she told us she'd meet us there.
We grabbed dinner, and then headed for the hospital. Right after we were settled in a room, labor began to come on strong. When my midwife came to check on me, she was surprised to see things taking off as they were. You were on your way! And four hours later, you were born!
Here we are, one year later. How does time go so fast? I think it goes even faster for parents of babies under one, because there is so much change in that first year.
You are a fussy little boy. Some mornings (like this one), I can't seem to do anything to make you happy, and you want to nurse so frequently I feel like it is all I do. However, I know that this, too, shall pass, and I need to remember that even when it is hard.
You love to laugh and be tickled! You have a wonderful laugh, and sometimes Caleb can get you laughing, just by looking at you.
You've been cruising around while holding onto furniture, for sometime now. You are not yet ready for independent steps, but I think it'll be in the next couple of months. As for talking, you say "mama" clearly, and here and there you call out for me.
The piano is one of your favorite things, and you bounce up and down to the rhythm of the music that is pre-programmed. It is too cute!
You seem to really like books, though as you have been more on the go, I've had a bit of a harder time trying to read them to you. You love your naptime books, where you have no choice but to be still!
You still are not doing any kind of self-feeding. You won't let me give you a water bottle, either. To say that I am concerned about this is an understatement. Regardless of what happens, we will love you and walk down this road with you.
It has been fun bringing you and Caleb out more this summer! You love the swing, and I don't hear any fussing from you when you are on it. When we went to the lake down the street, you at first didn't want to be in the water, but when I pulled you in my lap and held you close, you loved it! Your life jacket was another story, as it kept creeping up onto your face, and I had to chuck it and keep an iron grip on you. (For readers, we were in the very shallow part of the water, right near the lifeguard.)
Nursing is still a favorite activity of yours. I nursed your brother until just over two years old, when I was making way for your arrival. It broke my heart to end that part of our relationship. I'm not sure yet how long you will go, but you are by no means ready to stop any time soon. My little man, I will continue to be here for you.
I love you, sweetheart. You often cry when I leave the room, and I plan to remind you of this when you are a teenager :) I am sure that in time, Daddy will be the best thing ever, but right now, you are still a mama's boy. I received your weekly Baby Center update today, and for the first time it said "Your Toddler This Week", and I have to admit, it made me sad. You are still my baby, despite what the calendar says.
Happy Birthday, my dearest boy! I love you so much!
Love,
Your mama
I remember one year ago today pretty well. I was already overdue with you eight days, and I was more than ready for you to come out. I began having small contractions throughout the day, but I was in disbelief and I didn't really think I was in labor. Daddy and I had one last appointment with my midwife near the hospital, and thinking we probably would not come back home, we packed our car and said goodbye to Caleb. I cried after we left him with Grammy, because it was the first time we left him behind.
We saw my midwife, and she didn't think we were in active labor yet, either. I remember clearly how she was trying to decide what to do. Should she send us home, almost an hour away? She decided to get us checked into the hospital. She gave me some homeopathic treatments that might help jump start labor, and she told us she'd meet us there.
We grabbed dinner, and then headed for the hospital. Right after we were settled in a room, labor began to come on strong. When my midwife came to check on me, she was surprised to see things taking off as they were. You were on your way! And four hours later, you were born!
Here we are, one year later. How does time go so fast? I think it goes even faster for parents of babies under one, because there is so much change in that first year.
You are a fussy little boy. Some mornings (like this one), I can't seem to do anything to make you happy, and you want to nurse so frequently I feel like it is all I do. However, I know that this, too, shall pass, and I need to remember that even when it is hard.
You love to laugh and be tickled! You have a wonderful laugh, and sometimes Caleb can get you laughing, just by looking at you.
You've been cruising around while holding onto furniture, for sometime now. You are not yet ready for independent steps, but I think it'll be in the next couple of months. As for talking, you say "mama" clearly, and here and there you call out for me.
The piano is one of your favorite things, and you bounce up and down to the rhythm of the music that is pre-programmed. It is too cute!
You seem to really like books, though as you have been more on the go, I've had a bit of a harder time trying to read them to you. You love your naptime books, where you have no choice but to be still!
You still are not doing any kind of self-feeding. You won't let me give you a water bottle, either. To say that I am concerned about this is an understatement. Regardless of what happens, we will love you and walk down this road with you.
It has been fun bringing you and Caleb out more this summer! You love the swing, and I don't hear any fussing from you when you are on it. When we went to the lake down the street, you at first didn't want to be in the water, but when I pulled you in my lap and held you close, you loved it! Your life jacket was another story, as it kept creeping up onto your face, and I had to chuck it and keep an iron grip on you. (For readers, we were in the very shallow part of the water, right near the lifeguard.)
Nursing is still a favorite activity of yours. I nursed your brother until just over two years old, when I was making way for your arrival. It broke my heart to end that part of our relationship. I'm not sure yet how long you will go, but you are by no means ready to stop any time soon. My little man, I will continue to be here for you.
I love you, sweetheart. You often cry when I leave the room, and I plan to remind you of this when you are a teenager :) I am sure that in time, Daddy will be the best thing ever, but right now, you are still a mama's boy. I received your weekly Baby Center update today, and for the first time it said "Your Toddler This Week", and I have to admit, it made me sad. You are still my baby, despite what the calendar says.
Happy Birthday, my dearest boy! I love you so much!
Love,
Your mama
Saturday, July 30, 2016
Hurting Hearts
"It's enough to drive a man crazy, it'll break a man's faith
It's enough to make him wonder, if he's ever been sane
When he's bleating for comfort from Thy staff and Thy rod
And the Heaven's only answer is the silence of God
It's enough to make him wonder, if he's ever been sane
When he's bleating for comfort from Thy staff and Thy rod
And the Heaven's only answer is the silence of God
It'll shake a man's timbers when he loses his heart
When he has to remember what broke him apart
This yoke may be easy but this burden is not
When the crying fields are frozen by the silence of God
When he has to remember what broke him apart
This yoke may be easy but this burden is not
When the crying fields are frozen by the silence of God
And if a man has got to listen to the voices of the mob
Who are reeling in the throes of all the happiness they've got
When they tell you all their troubles
Have been nailed up to that cross
Then what about the times when even followers get lost?
'Cause we all get lost sometimes
There's a statue of Jesus on a monastery knoll
In the hills of Kentucky, all quiet and cold
And He's kneeling in the garden, as silent as a Stone
All His friends are sleeping and He's weeping all alone
And the man of all sorrows, he never forgot
What sorrow is carried by the hearts that he bought
So when the questions dissolve into the silence of God
The aching may remain but the breaking does not
The aching may remain but the breaking does not
In the holy, lonesome echo of the silence of God"
If you know Brian, you know he is an Andrew Peterson fan. When we began to correspond in the summer/early fall of 2009, he wrote some of the words to this song in one of his letters. Immediately, I saw the depth of Brian, both of his heart and of his mind, and I instantly resonated with the sad emotion behind this song.
You know it is has been quite a year for us. When I think back to one year ago, we were awaiting the arrival of our Silas. We were three days from my due date, but of course, Silas followed in Caleb's footsteps and arrived eight days late. We hadn't yet had to deal with seizures, an autism diagnosis, confusion, heartache of watching your child sometimes fall apart, and of course, the silence of God.
When the school year began, I had a two year old and a few week old baby. Then my seizure hit in mid-September. Then another came in January. In February, Caleb's behavior sent us running to the doctor, and we were faced with the overwhelming feelings of raising a child with autism. Slight-yes- but still.
Adding now to this... it is very possible Silas has autism.
I don't wish to jump the gun. But I cannot bury my head in the sand. He is falling behind on a major developmental delay: feeding himself. In fact, from the time he was tiny, he has never really put toys in his mouth. I can't say "never", because I've seen it maybe twice. But on the cusp of his first birthday, he has not put any food in his mouth. He also refuses a water bottle or anything in his mouth at all.
These aren't good signs.
Caleb had a feeding delay. But he finally started at around ten months, while Silas still hasn't figured it out.
I could be wrong, and I pray that I am. The neurologist told us that the chances go up for subsequent children to have autism... how those words stung, and still do.
The bottom line is that it is too early to tell, because he'll need to be behind in several areas, but I have to brace myself for what may be.
Okay, folks. I don't wish to be overly dramatic, something I do tend to be. No surprise there, as I am a former English teacher and lover of a good (clean) Christian romance novel. It is not cancer, nor is it a death sentence. But it is a sad thing to watch your child lag behind. I had secretly been hoping, somewhere in a small pocket inside of me, that Silas could help Caleb. That his doing things on time would somehow cause Caleb to want to keep up.
We were at the library yesterday for a Mommy and Me story time, and a boy a few months younger than Caleb was answering questions so easily, and he spoke a full sentence without a problem. I could not help but stare, and feel an overwhelming sadness. Is it wrong to want my boy to all he can be, with nothing holding him back? To not do odd things? And the thought that Silas may face this battle, too... is my heart strong enough?
God has seemed silent to me for so long. I know He is not. I know that He is there. But I ache to feel his presence and to feel His arms wrapped around me once again. For I am haunted by the fact that this all is my fault, perhaps the result of that stupid vaccine I had received just before I became pregnant with Caleb.
This school year will begin much different from the last. And like this song, in my loneliest moments, I must remember He wept all alone. For me. And for my sons.
And He loves them far, far better than I ever could.
Wednesday, July 13, 2016
Our Summer So Far
Brian began his summer break two weeks ago, and I became one of the happiest people on earth.
It's been wonderful having the extra help with two little ones. Changing diapers for two children is not easy, so having an extra set of hands has been pretty close to heaven.
We've been getting out more, so the prisoners that Caleb, Silas, and I were this past year have been set free. What's more, my driving ban is pretty much over. It was this week, six months ago, that I had my last seizure. I took Silas for a quick trip to the store yesterday- by myself- and it felt like going out with Caleb when he was smaller. I HAVE NEVER taken both boys out by myself, because my first seizure happened pretty quickly after Silas was born, and I had never gotten the chance. Some new things are in store for sure.
We began the vacation as we always do, heading straight for the zoo. Since then, we've tried to go to the park, the library, and we tried canoeing, but it didn't work out. Caleb was terrified, and Silas's life jacket was awkwardly covering his chin/mouth, and he was not having it, so that ended that. We put them on the swings instead, and it was pure delight.
Last week, we headed to my home in NJ, because Caleb and I are seeing a doctor there. In truth, I'd rather not travel at all, because we are at a difficult stage with Silas, but we have no choice. About 50-55 minutes from my parents, there is a homeopathic doctor we are seeing. He was recommended to me by my sister. I cannot explain exactly what he does, but in some cases, it is nothing short of a miracle. People come from all over to see him, including 31 states and 7 countries. It is expensive, because insurance does not cover it, and between me and Caleb both, we are spending a great deal.
Do we know for sure Caleb will be healed? No, we don't. But we know that we love him more than we love money, and if there is any chance this doctor can cure him, we are willing to take it. It isn't a waste, because he is making Caleb healthier, even if the autism isn't cured. He told us that he had a four-year-old girl as a patient, who had never once spoken, and her parents were spending a great deal of money to see him on travel alone, since they were from Texas. It took a few visits, but he had her speaking at last, and she was speaking exactly like other four-year-olds. (Before they had come to him, they had gone all over, including France, and no one else could help her.)
Changing topics, we have lots of plans for the rest of the summer. We want to take the boys swimming in the lake down the street. We plan on going to another zoo later this summer. Down the street from the hospital where the boys were born is a fair in that we'll probably attend. But, at the end of the day, the park with slides and swings is still probably the most exciting thing, at least for Caleb.
I'll leave you with a few photos from the zoo two weeks ago:
Sunday, July 10, 2016
Silas: Eleven Months
Dear Silas,
As you are cruising your way along (literally) to one year, Daddy and I are watching in awe as you blossom and grow.
You are standing all the time now, and you can take a step or two while holding on to furniture. When I come get you after a nap, you might be standing up, waiting in desperation for me to come rescue you.
You have mastered crawling. Mommy and Daddy find it a bit easier to block you in the living room, instead of running around the kitchen and dining area chasing you.
I've said it before and it bears repeating: You are a mama's boy. Plain and simple. When we traveled this past week, it was quite difficult for me at times, because all you wanted was me while in a strange place. I could barely go get myself a drink, so short was the leash you had on me.
You look like me. Or at least, the baby version of me. Never did I look at Caleb's face and for one minute think he looked like me, because he doesn't. But you? It is different. Many times I've stared at you and thought you resembled my baby pictures. Your daddy thinks so, too.
We've been shut up all year while I have been on my driving ban. As we have started getting out more with Daddy home, I am almost surprised by the reactions you receive from people. Who doesn't love a baby? And who doesn't love one as handsome as you? You receive so many comments and smiles!
You can clearly say "ma ma" and at times you call for me when going down or getting up. You still won't self-feed, nor will you let me give you water from a bottle. If I want to give you water, I have to spoon-feed it. You just don't like things in your mouth, period. You never chew on toys or put anything in your mouth. A blessing, yes, but I am concerned about these delays. We will have to wait and see how things turn out.
You and Caleb are clearly becoming friends. Yes, Caleb is rough with you, but we hope to change that in the future. The smiles you give one another are beautiful. We pray and hope that you will be so much more than brothers. We want you to be best friends. A sibling is a gift, and I hope you both come to feel that way, too.
Your sleep still leaves much to be desired, but I have to remind myself there are worse things in life. We will get through this, even though it is hard. One day, we will all sleep through the night again! Either that, or Jesus will come back before that happens!
Silas, you are a little light in my life. I love you tremendously. Watching you grow is a wonderful thing to behold. Your smiles and giggles are precious. Snuggling you and holding you cheek to cheek is still one of my favorite things in this world.
One day, you'll be watching your bride walk down the aisle of a church. I, my love, will be watching you. I will be remembering the little boy who doesn't like me out of his sight. My heartstrings will pull and tug and ache in all the right places. And when we dance at your wedding, I'll be remembering how I carried you and danced with you in our little living room. When I hold you and spin you around while singing, "Could I have this dance, for the rest of my life? Would you, Silas, be Mommy's partner, every night?" I sometimes think about that future dance we will have together. And I want to echo Laura Ingalls Wilder, who said in her books, "Now is now, and it can never be a long time ago."
I love you.
Love,
Your mama
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