Reading East of Eden

My earliest memories involve books. I don't remember learning to read, I just read. And read, and read.

I solved crimes and raced through adventure after adventure with the Bobbsey Twins, the Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew by the time I was in kindergarten. I entered the magical world of The Secret Garden when I was six and read and re-read that wonderful book. The Shoes Books by Noel Streatfeild, Little House on the Prairie series, Little Women, Anne of Green Gables, The Chronicles of Narnia , A Wrinkle in Time series by Madeline L'Engel, anything by Beverly Cleary were all old favorites by the time I was nine.

In Junior High I would walk out of the library holding a stack (and I mean STACK of books) that reached up to my eyes, and would be back the next week for more. I started re-reading many books because I was out of good material. That was when my dad started recommending some from his collection.

I come by my love of reading through my genes. My grandmas on both sides were voracious readers, and my dad had not only read everything, but could remember everything he read. He kept his collection of hundreds of second-hand books that he had acquired over the years in the garage. And it was to that old black bookcase with seventies-style yellow textured glass on its doors that I was directed.

At first, my dad and I would wander out to the garage together and he would pick a book or two for me. Out came All Creatures Great and Small, Not a Penny More, Not a Penny Less, We the Living, Of Mice and Men, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, 1984, The Hobbit, The Chosen, even Agatha Christie. Some of them were old when he had bought them for $.25 in 1964 and they had an old, musty book smell and the price written in pencil on the inside cover.

I would devour the book he had given me and then I would talk to my dad about what I had read. He remembered character names, themes, plots and could always discuss in-depth a book he had read twenty years ago. This is especially impressive to me because I have only vague memories of books I read a week ago and sometimes no suspense is lost in a reread because I can't even remember how the book ends.

As I got older, I would venture out to the garage and pick my next read on my own. Fountainhead, Atlas Shrugged, Armegeddon, Magnificent Obsession. The summer before I left for Israel for four months I wandered out to the garage and pulled down The Source, O, Jerusalem, Exodus, and The Haj. I immersed myself in the history of the Holy Land and when I touched down in Tel Aviv in August, amidst the newness and strangeness of a land half-way around the world, it also felt familiar.

Reading has allowed me to be places I've never been (War and Peace, Tolstoy), experience things I've never experienced (To Kill a Mockingbird, Lee), laugh out loud (Pickwick Papers, Dickens), cry (Tess of the D'Ubervilles, Hardy), and walk in shoes I have never walked in (The Chosen, Potok). Books have instructed (Bonds That Make Us Free, Warner), inspired (Team of Rivals, Goodwin) and uplifted (Glimpses, Marjorie Hinckley) me. They have opened up a world of curiosity, learning, and emotion. I will never forget what I felt the first time I read Gone With the Wind. I read it any spare minute I had--including every break at work. I was practically shouting at Rhett and Scarlet to change their course of action and as with many books I read, there was a recovery period when I had finished the book where I left the Civil War and the mansions of the South and pulled myself back into the present.

Of course, reading has also resulted in many sleepless nights because I HAD to finish a book, dishes left undone, and if I want to postpone a difficult task, I'll pick up a book and start reading instead.

I am a terrible literary critic...I like everything...with the exception of Sound and the Fury by Faulkner. But some books definitely speak to me more than others. One of my all-time favorite books is East of Eden by John Steinbeck. It's not just because I love his ability to bring his characters and their surroundings to life, or because I grew up just an hour away from Salinas and have driven through that valley on my way to Monterey many times. And although I love the history and life philosophy that Steinbeck includes, my connection with the book goes beyond that also.

I can remember the moment I was first reading East of Eden. It was the summer before I went to Israel. I was working for a temp agency and had a job as a receptionist at one of Symantec's offices. It wasn't the main building, so my "dream job" consisted of sitting at the front desk and reading. Every day I had a new book. Every morning the Vice President would come into the office, say hi, and check what book I was reading that day.

And I say moment, because when I got to chapter 24, it is like time froze there for me. I remember exactly where I was sitting at the gray desk, the light from the window in front of me streaming into the office. The door was in front and to my right; the copy machine to my left and back. And this is what I read,

"The King James version says this--it is when Jehovah has asked Cain why he is angry. Jehovah says, 'If thou doest well, shalt thou not be accepted? and if thou doest not well, sin lieth at the door. And unto thee shall be his desire, and thou shalt rule over him.' It was the 'thou shalt' that struck me, because it was a promise that Cain would conquer sin. . . .

Then I got a copy of the American Standard Bible. . . .It says, 'Do thou rule over him.' Now this is very different. This is not a promise, it is an order. . . .

[and in Hebrew it says] 'Thou mayest.' 'Thou mayest rule over sin.'. . .The Hebrew word, the word timshel--'Thou mayest'--that gives a choice. It might be the most important word in the world. That says the way is open. That throws it right back on a man. For if 'Thou mayest'--it is also true that 'Thou mayest not.'

Why that makes a man great, that gives him stature with the gods, for in his weakness and his filth and his murder of his brother he has still the great choice.. . .Think of the glory of the choice! That makes a man a man. A cat has no choice, a bee must make honey. There's no godliness there."

And in that moment, all the things I had been taught and had learned about the Atonement came together. I had always had a nagging question in the back of my mind...why was Satan's plan such a bad one? No hurt, no pain, we all make it back? Why was that bad? But when I read this discussion about choice in East of Eden and the connection between choice and godliness, it all came together. Heavenly Father wants us to have all the blessings he has--to become like him. As Steinbeck put it, choice gives man "stature with the gods." And I realized that we had to have the gift of agency if we were going to be able to become what Heavenly Father wanted us to become. But if we can choose, we will make mistakes and choose bad things from time to time. Which is why there must be an Atonement.

I never had realized "the glory of the choice" until I read East of Eden.

I just re-read East of Eden for book club. Sometimes a re-read can be a disappointment. But East of Eden was just as good as I remembered it (even though I couldn't remember a dang thing about the plot until I started reading).

Need a nap?

For over 6 months I have been looking for a way to get my then-three-year-old to take a nap. He was definitely tired and needed a nap. And I was definitely tired and needed him to take a nap--especially right after baby number three was born. But the combination of not wanting to nap, an inability to get his mind and body out of overdrive, and a desire to be where the action is (and to him it was not in his bedroom) worked to make a nap impossible.

It took me a while to resign myself to the fact that there was now not ONE moment that was really mine, but once I accepted it, it really wasn't that bad and I actually enjoyed some of those afternoons and the one-on-one time I got to have with my cutest Andrew.

Well, today I found the secret that I had been looking for all that time. Sunscreen. Yes, sunscreen. Just make sure you get it in your kids' eyes and a nap is guaranteed. Sounds harsh, but it works.Today I took my kids to the park and put sunscreen on their faces, and I guess got some in their eyes also. Oops. It said tearless, but that was definitely advertising fraud because there were lots of tears about 45 minutes after we had gotten to the park and the sunscreen had worked its way into their eyes.

After trying to wash their eyes out in the sink, Natalie was still crying and I told her that if she laid down and took a nap she would feel better when she woke up. So Andrew, with his eyes closed, laid down on the couch and has been asleep for the last few HOURS!!!!!

What a difference a nap makes.

Flour musings

Did you know that if you dump some flour on your floor and spread it around it makes your floor feel really soft?

And that flour in bulk tends to stick to a broom's bristles?


Or that it only takes seconds to cover a kitchen floor with flour if a two-year-old is throwing handfuls of it on the ground?


Thank goodness for a four-year-old tattletale (Mom, Natalie is doing something really bad) or it could have been much worse!
**And note on Natalie's appearance: after-nap hair when she has removed anything I've put in it, pen in her mouth from coloring and apparently eating earlier, and she is using the potty these days, so no pants.

He is not trapped in there forever...

Easter might be one of my favorite holidays. First, I love the time of year...spring. Even in Arizona, a place where the only seasons are hot, hotter, hottest, and not quite so hot. The smell of orange blossoms is in the air (and it's our first year with our own citrus in our backyard), trees are starting to blossom, leaves are returning. I walk outside and just want to breathe it all in.

Second, it brings back so many wonderful memories of my study abroad experience in Israel. Unbelievably that was 15 years ago, but so many of the sights and experiences are still fresh in my mind. And that is saying a lot considering how much this mind does NOT remember these days. This year was especially nice because my parents just got back from a 10 day trip to Israel. So talking to them about the experience made my memories even more vivid.

And third, I cannot think of anything better to celebrate than the resurrection and atonement of Jesus Christ. I love Christmas and telling my kids about the birth of the Savior. But there is nothing like telling my kids about Gethsemane, Calvary, and the empty garden tomb.

A few weeks ago for FHE I got out some of the pictures that depict the last week of Christ's life and told my children the Easter story. Andrew, who sometimes has a hard time sitting still, was absolutely motionless. Totally entranced. After the closing prayer, he came over and asked if we could look at the pictures again tomorrow.

The next Saturday we had the annual Garner easter egg hunt at John's parents' house. My mother-in-law did a similar thing with the pictures and the Easter story. Again, Andrew was mesmerized and just sat there, listening to every word. And he even piped up and volunteered some information about the "big rock."

On Easter Sunday I had some of John's family over for dinner--Dave and Kristine and their five kids, Julie, and John's parents. I had prepared a little Easter lesson (you have probably heard of and/or done it) using 12 plastic eggs. Each egg had a scripture describing something that had happened the last week of Christ's life and something that symbolized the event. For example, three dimes were in the egg with the scripture telling about Judas' betrayal.

The eggs were in an egg carton and I gave Andrew the job of making sure everybody got an egg. We started with number one and went around the room, looking at what was in the egg and reading the scripture. My niece helped her 4-year-old sister and 5-year-old brother read their scriptures. Andrew was keeping close tabs on what number egg we were on and reminded me which number was next.

Finally we got to number 10...Andrew's egg. He opened it up and found a piece of white material and a round, flat rock (that he had helped me find in the backyard earlier that afternoon). John offered to help him read the scripture, but he insisted that he would "read it myself." He turned the paper so the words were not upside down, held the paper up at eye-level, and then he proceeded to "read" and it went something like this:

"Jesus had on a white cloth and there was a big rock in front and then an angel came and moved the big rock so Jesus wouldn't be trapped in there forever."

I wish I could remember more in detail what he said because he went on and on "reading" the whole time. And he was right on.

John and I were talking about the experience a few times that night. His independence and desire to read it himself...his deductive reasoning (getting all that from the items in the egg)...his willingness to go along with the program and participate (doesn't always happen that way). You know, all those things about our children that we marvel at as parents. But I was left really marveling at the power of the Spirit to testify, even to my little 4-year-old boy, the glorious message of Easter...that He lives (that he is not trapped in there forever).

I love Easter.

Boys can be very sweet

I was sitting by Andrew this afternoon and he looked at me and said, "Mom, I wuv you." He touched my hair and said, "I wike your hair." "Your hair is..." then there was a pause as he searched for the appropriate word..."beautiful."

Andrew, you made my day! What a love.

FYI

For all those interested (mom, dad, maybe some brothers and sisters) I just finished a few posts I had started in February. When I published them, they posted under the original date so you have to go to Feb to find them.

Kara--I think you'll get it anyway on G Reader, but in case you don't, Nora and Natalie's dress up pics are there.

Kites in the dark

A few weeks ago I bought $1 kites at WalMart. And insisted that we fly them on Monday night for Family Home Evening.

But there were two important things I forgot to factor into my fun plan:
1) John gets home at about 7pm--it is dark outside
2) You need wind to fly a kite.

I tried to remedy the first problem by having John come home a little early. He did get home a few minutes early, but it was still pretty dark.

There was nothing I could do about the second problem. So, instead, we shortened the kite string and told the kids to run really fast.

And it kind of worked. Luckily our neighbors were getting rid of a couch so Andrew had a place to rest after running so hard.Natalie had a harder time getting the kite off the ground, so John got to stand in as honorary wind.

Kites in the dark--action

And if you really want to experience our evening, here are more of the kids in action (don't miss the collision):

Brothers

One of the greatest things about having kids is watching them interact with each other. And one of my favorite interactions right now is between Andrew and James. James LOVES Andrew. He just has to look at him and he is all grins. And Andrew is so sweet with James. He talks to him in a baby voice, says things like, "Are you talking James?" with a smile or "James, you're getting so big." He gets so excited when James rolls over or lately when we try to get him to sit up.

I hope they know how lucky they are to be brothers!

Overheard...

Andrew: "I just frew up Nats."

Natalie: "Oh. Gweat."


He was on his way to the trampoline after throwing up about 4 times (miraculously into the toilet) and then telling me he was "all better." But later he threw up all over me another 4 times (right as John was walking in the door). Then at the table once. And in his bedroom once on the floor. John was home to clean up that one ;-)

Luckily today he really is "all better."

How many is too many and how close is too close?

Today I lugged all three children to the Dr's office. Andrew had his 4-year, Natalie her 2-year, and James a follow-up ear infection appointment. I guess when you turn 4 you have to start peeing in a cup. Andrew said he needed to go potty and the nurse gave me a cup. For some reason, all the "target practice" enticements didn't change his mind that he did NOT want to pee in a cup. He sat down on the toilet (it was too tall for him to stand) and started to go. I did not want to wait another hour or so for him to need to go again, so I just stuck the cup under him and collected some pee. That was the beginning of the 20 minute freak out.

He started screaming, kicking, hitting, spitting. I took the other kids back into the examination room and he followed me screaming that he didn't want to pee in a cup. He tried to take the cup that we had left on the sink per instructions and dump it out. I have seen him like this before...many times. He is not exactly what you would call flexible most of the time. And if something doesn't go the way he wants, many times he gets very angry and sometimes he throws a huge fit. It's why I own the book "The Explosive Child."

He was still angry when the doctor came in. He tried to kick her, he wouldn't cooperate. She said over and over again, "I have never seen him like this" "He is very angry." etc., etc. At one point she said she wanted me to fill out an autism-assessment form (she forgot and I didn't remind her, because I don't think that is the problem). She was amazing and got him to smile, then laugh, then cooperate. But after she was done with the examination, she spoke to me for a few minutes about how he needs one-on-one time--special time just him with mom or dad two or three times a week. And she said the hour or two when the other kids were napping didn't count. Hmmm..

So, I was feeling a little shaky as a mom at this point. Still exhausted from the tantrum and a little embarrassed, worried about the suggestion of autism, guilty that I've had too many kids too close together and so Andrew isn't getting the attention he needs and is angry because of it.

Then it was time for shots. Andrew got three in his legs. He cried and cried and my little sensitive Natalie cried because Andrew was crying. Then it was her turn to get a shot. Andrew was still crying and needed me to comfort him, I needed to hold Natalie while they gave her the shot, and then I needed to comfort her after she got the shot, and Andrew still needed a hug and a shoulder. I was feeling what I feel a lot since having the third--who isn't getting the love and comfort they need? Did I have too many, too close?

I go back and forth with what is the best--years apart? close together? How many? Too many? For everybody, this will be different and I'm not looking for THE answer, I'm looking for the answer for me and my family. It has felt right to have our kids closer together. It feels right to have another one and if we survive, probably another one, and maybe even another one. But I have struggled with feeling that it may be too much for me or that I can't quite get it together and maybe I need some time to pull it together.

But when I was in the doctor's office and was feeling that there is not enough of me to go around, it hit me. I realized that it is at those times that it is important to ask for help. I mean pray. Do all we can do and then ask the Lord to make up the difference.

I could not be everywhere at once and couldn't comfort both like they needed comfort right then, but there is somebody who can. And I thought about what a strength to Andrew if I were to call upon the Lord to fill in in my absence. And then it really hit me. That is what I'm missing so often...FAITH. I do not need to do it all on my own. I always think I do, but I don't. If I partner with the Lord in raising these kids, it will be much easier and they won't be deprived. In fact, what a blessing for them and for me if we can form a stronger reliance on the Lord because we need him. And maybe that is why close together and keep having them seems right for us. For somebody who thinks she always has to do it on her own.

Yep, she's two

What I hear from Natalie 20 times a day (at least):

"i do it myself, me"

I guess she wants to make sure we didn't misunderstand "myself" so she adds the "me" on the end.

Sunday

After all the other posts, you would think I was done writing about Andrew's birthday. But his actual birthday was on Sunday and there are just a few things I don't want to forget, so here goes.

It was Andrew's birthday on Sunday, but I felt like it was my birthday and Andrew was the gift-giver.

First, this picture is the best picture I have of him. It was taken by somebody in primary and given to him on an I am a Child of God block on Sunday for his birthday. I do not have ANY pictures of him looking at the camera and smiling a real smile. He is always looking somewhere else or has a cheese grin--meaning he is saying "cheese" continuously and the sides of his mouth never make it up into a smile. So this gift was as big a deal to me as it was to him. And he tried to take the picture to bed with him tonight. He LOVES it.

Second, Andrew was an angel in Sacrament meeting. We got to church and he sat still on the bench until the meeting started (this is in contrast to the usual climbing under the bench, thumping on the wall, or begging for snacks). And then he sat on the bench for almost the entire meeting (also in contrast to the banging the bench, coloring on the floor, accidentally dumping snacks on the floor and elbowing his sister away from the coloring book). He was paying attention and folded his arms on his own when it was time to pray, tried to sing along to the hymns, leaned in and snuggled up to my side with his head bowed, eyes closed and arms folded during the Sacrament prayer. I was in heaven. About 10 minutes before the meeting ended the spell broke, but what a great gift the first hour was!!

Third, Andrew gave his first talk in primary on Sunday. I had been remembering on and off that he had the talk. It's my first kid in primary, so I even went and sat in on jr sharing time a week or two before to see what primary talks should be like. During the week I sat down and started jotting a few things down and asked Andrew how Jesus helped him so I could include that in the talk. But we had Andrew's party, things were crazy, and Saturday night, late, I suddenly remembered....Andrew's talk!! I put the rest of the talk together (I mean it's about 4 sentences), but was worried because I had meant to have Andrew practice it that week and here I was going to have him go through it the first time Sunday morning--Church starts at 9am. We went over it a few times before church, once while waiting for church to start and he did a GREAT job!

When I first went over it with him that morning, I explained that I would say the words and he should repeat, but initially I would say the words and he would try to finish my sentence...fill in the blanks. I wasn't sure what to expect when we got to primary. Andrew decides what he wants to do and when, so I wasn't sure if he would want to give the talk. But he did. I would say a sentence and he would repeat the whole thing and he spoke into the microphone clearly and loudly. It was so sweet and so cute and such a gift to me. My little boy seemed so grown up!!

Here is the talk for my own benefit:

Jesus Christ is my Savior

At my house, we read the Bible with pictures. We have been reading about Jesus. We read about when Jesus helped a man so he could see and when he healed a girl.

Jesus helps all of us. He helps me not get lost. He helps people to pray. He helps people to walk. He helps us to be obedient. And he helps us so we can live with Heavenly Father again. I love Jesus. He is my Savior. And he loves me.

The second paragraph were some of Andrew's responses to the question how does Jesus help you? A response not included in the talk was, "he helps us get water."

He had been sitting at the front of the primary room because he was giving a talk. After he gave the talk he was supposed to go back and sit with his class. Uh-uh. He sat in the chair at the front for the rest of jr primary. That was his seat for the day.

And he was thrilled when they gave him is birthday block/picture and sang to him. Huge grin.

As for his birthday, we had decorated the house with blue balloons and made a streamer curtain in the doorway at the bottom of the stairs. He has been asking for the blue "curtain" since Natalie's b-day in January. We had John's parents and sister, Julie over for dinner...spaghetti (yummy homemade sauce) of course because it is one of the only foods Andrew will eat. Andrew got the You Are Special Plate.

He got to open gifts from gma and gpa and mom and dad.

And he got to blow candles out on the remnants of the toppled Thomas cake. (see below for before pictures)

And what about James?

I know. He seems to be the forgotten 3rd child. I blog and blog about Andrew and Natalie and little James doesn't get much blog time. But it's not because I don't love him and it's not because he doesn't get any attention around here. In fact, I can't get enough of that little James.


He is round, soft, cuddly, smiles at me anytime I look at him, laughs, rolly. I LOVE this kid.

You will find him with his fingers in his mouth and his shirt totally wet these days. But I can't find any teeth yet.

And what a laugh. Tonight we were outside playing with bubbles and he was just cracking up watching the kids running back and forth and trying to get the bubbles. Here are a few clips of him laughing at Andrew every time he spins the spinner in the game.



A few little milestones: he rolled over from tummy to back about 4 times in a row on Saturday. He had done it about a month ago, but then..nothing. And...his hair is growing in.

Dancy Dancy

Natalie loves the Fancy Nancy books and calls her Dancy Dancy. Well, Friday night Natalie got to be Dancy Dancy. It was her dance recital.

I know, she is barely two. But she just loved it. She didn't follow along in class all the time and liked to do her own thing much of the time, but she was excited every week to go to her dance class. In fact, one week Andrew wanted to stay home and said he didn't want to go to the dance class (do you blame him?). Natalie got this pouty/scowl look on her face and said in a very adamant voice, "I do go my dance cwass, Adew. i DO." We laugh about that.



So, I wasn't sure how she was going to do in the recital. I had visions of her ruining the whole thing. But she did great. Her class is only about 5 girls, but there were about 30 girls at the recital all doing their own thing. She fit right in. I did catch her actually doing the right move at the right time once or twice, but most of the time she bounced around to her own tune, loving her princess tutu.


(Movie on top: going along with the program. She is straight back in the middle. Movie on bottom: doing her own thing. She is the jumping one.)

After her first appearance, her group left the performance area. I thought they were done, but after the older girls did their number, everybody came back on. Except Natalie. John ran to find her, and found her at the refreshment table eating cookies. Hmmm. He got her back "on stage" and this time she really did her own thing. She took off her leotard. I guess she got some crumbs in her leotard--she tried to get to them, it wasn't working, so she stripped down to her waist and proceeded to eat the crumbs off her tummy. Pretty funny.


We told her it is her first and only strip tease.

All Aboard the Andrew Birthday Express!

So, Saturday we had a birthday party for Andrew. He was very adamant that he wanted a Thomas the Tank Engine party, so that is what we did.

I sent out "boarding passes" for invitations:

When the 10 kids got there, they followed the tracks
to a table to color until everybody got there and then we got a "package" from Sir Topham Hatt that told the kids he needed their help. So we followed his instructions and the tracks out to Cranky the crane (we had made a cranky out of boxes). He had lost some packages, so the kids had to fish them out--we had a fishing pond type of thing, then we headed down the tracks to where Toby and a Troublesome Truck were sitting and the kids had to throw the coal that the TT had spilled back into the TT. The kids loved that one. Then on to James surrounded by steam (white balloons). The kids popped the balloons, then through a tunnel, and to the mountains and snow.
John dumped some packing peanuts on them and they looked for their prizes in the "snow" and played around in that for a while. Then cake and ice cream and playing outside for a few minutes and then presents.

The kids had a great time, Andrew loved it.

Now, the behind-the-scenes story. I tried to do too much, ran out of time so it wasn't exactly how I pictured it, the cake was a disaster and fell over before the kids got there after I had spent about 4-5 hours on it, I was in tears, I hadn't asked for anyone to stay and help with the party but my friend Amber and my sis-in-law stayed just because and saved the day. I hadn't slept for days because I was trying to get everything put together and can never just do the simple, easy way. I seem to have a knack for making things as hard as I possibly can! John was a trooper and helped me pull it together before everybody got there ;-)

This may have been my first and my last birthday party. But, if it's anything like having a baby, I'll forget all the pain in a few weeks and will go ahead and have another one!

Here are some pictures worth noting...

We all moved on to the next place and Natalie stayed behind to stuff as much candy in her mouth as she possibly could. She did it quietly and efficiently and if the wind had not blown the sheet forward we may never have caught her in the act. I also love that she looks like a street urchin. That's how crazy the morning was. No time even to get her ready for the day!
And of course, the cake. I didn't even bother trying to finish it because it was on it's way over. John fortified the sides with books and then held it together long enough for Andrew to blow out the candles and then CRASH! For the record, I did make the face out of fondant.

The Pup Turns 4!!

Andrew turned 4 years old today!! As with every experience he has, it is his first and it is my first all at the same time. That's what happens when you are the oldest. I have never had a 4-year-old before. From now on, I will compare each child to what Andrew did at this age or to what a different child did at this age. But Andrew never has any comparisons. Because he is the first.
And what a first. To know Andrew is to know excitement materialized. Even as a baby he would laugh and laugh and laugh at things. And he has a smile to match. When he smiles or laughs, his whole face lights up and to me, he lights up the whole room. There is no holding back when he is happy, just as there is no holding back when he is mad. It is all out there. There is no middle-ground with this kid. He is my hot-and-cold boy; my on-or-off kid.

When he is excited about something that is about to happen, he stands there with his arms bent at the elbow and his hands up at about shoulder-level and shakes his hands like crazy. I said stands there, but more often than not he is jumping up and down and the same time. It is like he can't contain all the feeling that he feels. And in this sense, I think he is my son. I know what it feels like to think you are going to burst from the excitement. And I love watching him at those moments and feel almost the same level of excitement, without the shaking and jumping. I love sharing fun, exciting things with him because I know he will react. I picture him standing in line for the carousel, hands shaking; I picture him standing in line to ride the train at Christmastime, hands shaking. Pure excitement.

Andrew has always had his own time-table. From the beginning. He was 10 days late and even then I had to be induced. He just wasn't wanting to get here quite yet. He didn't walk until he was almost 16 months. He took a few steps several months earlier, but he did not like falling and didn't even try to walk again until he was almost 16 months old. Two weeks after turning two, he watched The Letter Factory a few times and knew all his letters and sounds, just like that. He liked it and it interested him, so he did it. He could jump off the diving board and swim to the side of the pool by himself when he was two and by the time he was three he could swim any distance by himself--he didn't need me at all. Peer pressure, or parent pressure, hasn't been much of an influence on him. He has to decide to do it himself.

He is fun, funny, stubborn, sweet, persistent, loving, bright, curious, a little engineer, helpful, social and not social all in one, energetic, cautious, a great singer, enthusiastic, always a negotiator, the rules enforcer but not follower, a one-of-a-kind. There is no one else like him. And I love that.
He is also so tender-hearted and sweet. He sporadically tells me "Mom." "Yes?" "Mom, I wuv you." That usually more than makes up for the "You're a mean mom!" comment from a few hours before. When I leave him with a babysitter he runs up to me and gives me a big hug and a kiss before I leave. I can't think of many things I like better than that. He can be so sweet with Natalie and James. He calls Natalie "Nats." His own name for her. It think it is so cute. Nobody can make James laugh like Andrew can. Really, James absolutely loves Andrew and smiles every time he sees him.
Andrew does not like many foods. He used to eat anything and everything. Now we are down to spaghetti and parmesan cheese (lots of it), bread, PB&J, cheese sandwich, quesadillas, and most fruits and veggies. Oh, and cereal and waffles and pancakes. But he has to try everything I serve, so we find ourselves waiting for Andrew to eat the macaroni and cheese (yes, it took him 2 hours of crying before he would try a mac and cheese noodle. He liked it) or the taco soup, or the potatoes, or anything else. It is hard for him. And hard for us. He usually gets around to trying it, but before we get to that point, we go through the crying, the whining, the "I'm going to eat it" with a huge grin on his face stages. He holds that fork right by his mouth, his legs kicking, giggling a nervous giggle and with a big smile, "I wike this food mom" before he has even tried it. It's like he's trying to convince himself before he puts it into his mouth. And more often than not, he actually gags and sometimes even spits it back up. But even when he has spit up the food he almost always says to me in a very sweet voice, "Thanks for making this dinner, mom." Or "Thanks for making these potatoes, mom." Whatever it is. I have no idea where he got it from. But I just love it.
Andrew loves his stuffed animal Zzzzs. (we pronounce it zeez). He has had it from the very beginning and I think Zzzzs has been a friend, a comforter and when we let Andrew cry to help him learn how to fall asleep on his own, Zzzzs was there for him. For a while, Andrew took it everywhere. It even went to preschool with him for the first few weeks. Every once in a while he will say to me, "Mom, I wuv Zzzzs." Or, "Mom, Zzzzs wuvs me." Or, "Mom, Zzzzs is my brother."
Andrew loves to read. Or at this point, to be read to. But he memorizes things so fast that he could read the books to himself if he wanted to. The other night I was reading the Little Engine That Could. There is a line in the middle of a huge paragraph that reads, "dolls and toys" and I said, "toys and dolls." I started to go on and he stopped me. "Mom, no, you need to say dolls and toys." Another time I skipped over a line in a huge paragraph and he stopped me and said word-for-word the line I had missed.

One of my favorite moments has been with Andrew on the trampoline. Sometimes when Natalie and James are asleep in the afternoon Andrew and I go jump on the trampoline. We do silly things and bounce each other and then we always lie down and look at the clouds (if there are any--we live in Arizona!). He snuggles up his little body right next to mine and we look up in the sky, comment on how good it smells out there--fresh grass/plants smell, look for different things in the clouds and I always try to find out a few more things about him. What he likes, how he feels about things. His answers are usually, "Nuffing" (nothing) or "good" but every once in a while he will start sharing his little mind's thoughts. That is heaven for me. I love getting a glimpse into this little guy's thoughts. And as he gets older he is sharing more and more of these thoughts.

Just a few more things I just love about Andrew:

• his WHITE hair,
  
• he has back muscles,
  
• his many excuses for why he can't get dressed right then,
  
• that he can sing the whole doughnut song after hearing John sing it once and I had to hear it about 5 times before I could sing it,
  
• pants off after about 5 minutes being home,
  
• he can crack an egg and add it to a recipe without getting any shells in,
  
• that no matter what he says in a prayer, he always includes, "spirit, gospel" before he closes
• that he runs to me with a big grin and jumps into my arms every time I pick him up from preschool
• that he says "nuvie" instead of movie and "naybe" instead of maybe and "mines" instead of mine
  

I could go on and on about this little pup (that is the nickname John gave him when his baby crying sounded like a puppy whimper). What a blessing he has been to me. I am so glad he is mine!

Happy Birthday Andrew!!