Levi Hunter

I had planned to write today about my pregnancy with Levi, his birth, and his life. For a few months I've been waiting patiently for the opportunity his birthday would provide to tell his story, and to expound upon the depth of our love for him. I also envisioned sharing about the meaning behind his name, and trying to list all the words he now can say, and possibly how he pronounces them. And I wanted to spend a bit of time talking about our conversion to the idea of completely natural childbirth, specifically the Bradley Method, and the impact our childbirth education had on Levi's birth.

Quite lofty goals for one post, I know. Especially since I don't usually write in a particularly, shall we say, "concise" way!

And life happens. It's 1:45pm right now, and I've finally got Levi down for his nap about an hour late. A messy house is screaming my name. Bills needing to be paid are calling a bit more quietly, and there are several half-finished books waiting to be read. And Drake will be home in an hour and a half. Not to mention (or perhaps because of all this), I'm suffering from a bit of writer's block today and don't think I can do justice to the well-planned, thought-provoking post that has been swimming in my imagination for months. But such is life.

I spent most of this morning trying to slow down and live at Levi's pace - to look into his little face and try to understand how he sees the world. To play the way he plays and delight in the things that make him laugh...the stray doggie outside, the magnetic train cars that stick together and twirl around when you dangle the engine in the air, the thrill of freedom when realizing the back gate has been left open, the hilarity of repetitious games like going down the slide again and again or playing peekaboo.

I'm trying to love the growing up that I'm seeing. I'm sentimental by nature, and if left on its own, that trait could easily overshadow my joy in progress made and things accomplished, and could even chip away at responsible parenting. While mommies never really enjoy realizing that their baby isn't a baby anymore, it's definitely more sweet than bitter for me, this time around. God placed this precious child in my life to raise up in the way he should go, not to hold onto forever. I've heard it said by two different people in the past week: We're not raising children; we're raising adults. And that's a wise fact to keep in mind. I do well to cherish the sweet times with my children while they're young. But I do even more good when I pour into them everything I can that will equip them to be godly men who love and serve the Lord with all their being.

So. Since this is my blog, I guess I can do whatever I want! Plan to see some version of my originally-hoped-for birthday post in the future. Perhaps it will be chopped into smaller segments, however, rather than one gigantically long post!

And enjoy the photos...

37 weeks pregnant - this was about two weeks before Levi was born.

No words can express the heart-rush when one realizes that she can (and does) indeed love the second baby as much as the first, no questions asked.

Precious round little face

Ready to go home for the first time

Levi Hunter, I love you with all my heart. May you grow to be a faithful servant of the Lord!

Groundhog adventures

In honor of Groundhog's Day, Drake made a groundhog "hole" out of two umbrellas with blankets over the top. Levi must do everything that "Buddy" is doing, of course. So the two of them played groundhogs for quite awhile the other day. Here they are, inside their "hole"!

I think this one is poking his head out! I wonder if he sees his shadow...

Well, he scurried back into his hole, so it looks like six more weeks of winter!

Brothers

I had the distinct pleasure of watching my boys play together last night. It was rough, "boy" play, and so heartwarming! Levi calls Drake "Buddy" now - we think he's trying to say "Brother" and that's how it comes out. So he was running and Drake was chasing and catching him, carrying him over to the couch and flopping him up onto it - over and over and over - amidst squeals of "Buddy!" and peals of laughter. What a joy they are!

Drake went back to school this week, and "Buddy" was a constant topic of conversation for Levi and me yesterday. Levi would approach me, asking, "Buddy?" and nodding his head with his eyebrows raised, as if hoping I could somehow produce Drake from behind a chair or something. I would remind him that Drake got on the bus this morning, and the bus took him to school (a place Levi has been many times). That would satisfy him for a few minutes, and then it would begin all over again!

This week will be a little stressful for our family. Adam and I have severely nasty coughs, and there's a lot going on for us. I may be able to elaborate at a later date. But anyway, I am taking the time now to be truly thankful for my caring husband and my two precious children, and to renew my mind to the idea that I am only the steward of these children. They do not belong to me, but to the Lord. Raising them is the most important and difficult thing I will ever do, but they are not mine. Our family rests in the hands of God; may He shape us as He wills.

I will hold on to these sweet moments of little-boyhood and never forget them.

A small mutiny

We're having company in a few days, so I've started thinking about preparing for that. And we're also having Drake's 6th birthday party here a week from tomorrow. So yesterday afternoon, I went into the playroom and sat down in the middle of the floor, sorting toys. Army men with the army men, Transformers with the Transformers, baby toys in the baby toy bins, and all the miscellaneous stuff....ummm....over here in these drawers. Now, admittedly I should have had Drake doing it, or at least helping me, but I just didn't feel like I could handle any more battles with him yesterday.

So I was in there sorting, and Drake came in, and asked in a horrified voice, "Mommy, what are you doing?"

"I'm cleaning up the playroom," I told him.

"No," he whined, "Don't do that! I like it this way!" pointing to the toy-scattered landscape.

"But isn't it easier to find things when it's all cleaned up?"

"No, it's easier to find them when I can see them all! I don't want you to clean it!"

I was surprised, to say the least. Unfortunately, I sort of expect that kind of reaction when he's the one doing the cleaning, but I was cleaning it myself! If he doesn't even like things picked up when someone else is willing to do it for him, how am I ever going to get him motivated to keep his stuff picked up on his own?

How I would love to have a maid!! But apparently my son would rather live in clutter. Neither of us actually enjoys picking stuff up, but at least I like it when things are organized! Perhaps that's an acquired trait?

I know I'm setting myself up for all kinds of derision and advice by posting something like this, but I am weary. I know that I am the parent - "the boss" - but after awhile I feel like there is a mutiny going on, and it's such a battle to deal with the same sinful attitude issues in my kids over and over again. Consistency is the key; I know this. And I need to not give in or back down (and not do things like clean something up myself that I should have Drake doing, only because I can do it 10 times faster and because I don't want to listen to his protests).

Often, Drake is a sweet, helpful kid who thinks of others before himself. And then there are times like now. I don't feel like we're doing anything different with him, but it saddens and disappoints me when he can't get along with his playmates, whines and complains about everything all day, says mean things to his brother, and the list goes on. I am apprehensive about him starting kindergarten in a couple of weeks, because I really don't want him to get off on the wrong foot with his teacher and classmates, but his whole disposition has been so "sour" lately. I know there is a kind, sweet, hard-working little boy in there somewhere. Where did he go?

But really, I see many of the same attitude problems that he is displaying reflected in my own heart, and I'm not too efficient at getting rid of them either. I complain a lot too, often inwardly, but that doesn't make it any better. I can be lazy too - I don't want to do things that seem overwhelming to me. So I understand it. I really do. But I think we find it even harder to deal with sin in others that we ourselves struggle with. Maybe because it seems more hopeless?

Yesterday I took the TV away indefinitely. You would think the entire world had ended. Then a little while ago, I told him I was about to take "play" away from him, too, if he could not be thankful for it and stop complaining. I guess I had better get to thinking of lots of chores he can do this afternoon. I pray that I will not have to take it quite that far...