Tidings of Great Joy

Christmas Eve, we ate tamales with the Asays and actually sang around the piano--some of us. A dragon played the bells.
So we have a chimney, but Benjamin wrote a letter to Santa and said, "Please, don't come down the chimney because you might knock down the candles. Come through the front door." That must have been what happened. Although with the change in his routine, Santa did forgot one thing. It seems he forgot to put something in "Pup-pup's" stocking. When this was discovered Benjamin just shook his head and said, "Silly Santa." But he did bring, "Grand Central Station" that Benjamin "so wanted" for which he had a picture that he carried with him for many days and that Isaac ripped and Dylan ate and I eventually had to tape until it looks laminated and Benjamin is very, very happy with his train station. We can hardly walk in our living room for trains. And because when I asked Benjamin if he would like to learn how to play the piano and he responded, "No I want to play drums. Marching band drums," Benjamin also got a marching band drum set (with gloves and a whistle) and Isaac got cymbals. Dylan has baby bongo drums. Pa-rum-pa-pam-pam. Come follow the band...! The boys would be so delighted to help their cousin Matthew play his new Christmas drum set...

Dylan loved the paper and Isaac loved trying to sneak him more paper and drinks from his sippy cup. (Basta!) Thank goodness under the Christmas tree was a baby doll for Isaac to haul about the house, hug and pat on the back. (And a bulldozer to ride and scoop with--to balance the cosmos, naturally).

And Eric may be far from his California surf and sun, but he can own the hills of Laurel View Court. He opened his gift and said, "Hope I don't break my neck on this." Which is what I thought he would say, so that 's when I handed him a gift bag with a full set of pads--wrist, elbow and knees! And we even had a bit of a "Better Homes and Garden Moment" for a brief moment. This flicker of magazine perfect life came to life because an exhausted Isaac napped during dinner so we could actually light the candles and put out Grandma's china on Grandma's homemade crochet tablecloth) without worrying where his hands (or china or candles or dinner) would land. But during the holiday, especially when we sat down at the table and looked around, we missed our mischievous, laughing Isaac and everyone else that we love lots and wished we could share turkey and laughs with! Happy Holidays all!

A Date (to Play)

On a big wheel built for two...



















Neither toddler (21 m. and almost 18 m.) wanted the ride to end. Isaac's only concern is that he wanted to go faster--I had to keep reigning in the speedster. His little friend Emmaline seems to have no concerns at all and just relaxed and took in the sites. Watch for a moment in the video when their feet are moving in tandem to get the bike going. Good laughs. Good life. We like play dates!

Riding the Rails of Yesteryear and Yesterweek

So back in the day, I had a big brother that took me on my first train/car ride in my very own boxmobile that he had built for me. Lucky me and thanks David! I'm sure I must have liked it somewhat more than the picture capturing the moment might indicate. So, it would seem that Benjamin is just following family tradition. Even little Dylan got to ride in his very own caboose. All aboard! Tonight we'll be adding to our family gratitude list, "We're thankful for cardboard. Especially boxes. Big ones."

Pullman Car

Yes. This is really where Benjamin slept one night last week. His idea. And I let him. I just couldn't say no. After all, as you can see, it wasn't any ordinary box. It was a sleeper coach on the Sante Fe Express. He seemed to sleep quite peacefully. I know because I just couldn't stop myself from peeking in on him many times.

Strummin on the old 'anjo.

Never a dull life around here--even for Dylan. Even when he's in his crib. The other two boys carried their stools in from the bathroom so that they could see him better and "chat" with him more.

Es Lebe d' Sport!

There I was. The mother of a third boy. Not quite four weeks after Dylan's arrival. Taking in the beauty of that moment when a father holds his child in his arms and blesses him before the congregation of family and supporters. That is to say, I was trying to hone in on the sublime while I heard Eric's words and simultaneously worked to calm a three year old who was broken hearted because:

1. We had forgotten to bring the water bottle that he had decided was the most necessary thing in the world for his survival that Sunday. Wailing and gnashing of teeth--even promises of the magical church water fountain to no avail.

2. He was surely coming down from the company high from the influx of two sets of grandparents, an uncle, aunt and doting cousins in our house not to mention a newborn who would not be leaving.

3. And after diffusing shrieks and full body thumps on the floor of a classroom, it dawned on me that in the tango of getting ready for church, no one had fed the child any lunch.
My firstborn was however finally tame once more sitting next to me at the pew and with sighs of acquiescence and residual sobs accepting each proffered fruit snack--all that I could seem to find with any caloric content in my diaper bag. I have a vague memory of five bags in rapid fire. A record on ripping and consuming by my count.

And Dylan Rhys Chambers was blessed and it was sweet. And then Eric said the words and I heard the words that neither of us were quite expecting, "a love of sport." No, not a love of the arts, or music or nature or animals. A love of sport. I should be grateful. Dylan did return to my arms from his blessing with the name we had agreed upon (not like when Eric's great-great grandfather Orange Warner Chambers gave his grandson a blessing and named him "Orange" because he was doing the blessing--a family name--strange but yes true--but also not the planned on name and probably the reason this man was called "Babe" or sometimes Warner by his family and friends) and I do hope that Dylan will be a good sport, love good laughs and enjoy games and in general be healthy, strong and happy. But am I up for all the love of sports? I had by that point already given up on hair bows, dresses and dolls and pinks and frills. I'd even applauded one of Isaac's first words--"ball" and gladly tossed it back and forth with him. I made sure the boys had a basketball hoop, a soccer goal and various sundry sport items. And then there are football Saturdays. But that all paled in the light of the latest fatherly proclamation. Sigh. I saw the dust caking on the Anne of Green Gables complete set and viva la dog-eared copies of play books and little league coaching tips. But I must run because while Dylan might very well love sports more than his mother (not difficult in any regard), he's not currently loving being the recipient of Isaac's wrestling attempts. Isaac is about to sit on his head. Time to blow the whistle on that.

Madhatting

Benjamin came home yesterday from his preschool group chanting "Caps for Sale" inspired by the book of the day and proceeded to gather up his hats and pile them on his head like the cap man. So it was serendipitous that we received a new hat in the mail today for baby Dylan from Uncle Mike and Aunt Renae.

Very, very cute hat--worth smiling about!
Of course Isaac had to try it on for size as well.