two years

Dear Matthew,

Happy second birthday! Just a year ago we celebrated your first year of life, back when you were so small and bald and - relatively speaking - lightweight. And now here we are, looking back on the last 12 months of growth and progress and personality revealed.



It's hard to remember that you started this year crawling. At 13 months old, however, you were beginning to toddle and walk, always in the opposite direction from me. The idea to escape has never left your brain. To this day we still battle over holding hands because, quite frankly, carrying all 38 pounds of you hurts my biceps. The stroller continues to be one of my best friends to keep you safe and strapped in!

Determination seems to be the name of the game for you. You are a persistent problem solver. If there's something you want, Matthew, you have no trouble figuring out how to gain access. It took me by surprise that you had mastered door handles by 18 months. Anything to be near Morgan and Andrew... or their stuff.



















Speaking of Morgan, she's like your second mother. Most times you enjoy all the smothering and attention, and even more, you love when she takes you outside or lets you into her room. It's a dream come true for you - hanging with and pretending to be a seven-year-old. Always wanting to be like the bigs.

For as much grief as you give Andrew, you sure do love him, too. Now that you're closing in on him size-wise, you hold your own with your older brother, especially when he can't keep his hands off you. I never put it past you to clobber Andrew when you've had enough. We're working on how to communicate "stop" instead of just taking people out with your fist.

You love to wrestle, tackle and rough house. You throw your weight around without any reservation. You plow through people like a tank on a mission. Quite frankly, it's a bit dangerous the way you move, and I've been on the receiving end of your strikes. Big ouch. Nothing gets in your determined way, and accidents and injuries don't seem to slow you down. Scraped knees only require a kiss. Bonks on the head, just a hug. Your fractured wrist didn't prevent you from the action, either. Can we all just whisper up a prayer that this is the only cast your body will ever see? Please?


















It never took long for you to get the concept of silverware and you prefer to eat everything with a fork, even toast. As the son of Mr. Scott A. N, this is perfectly acceptable in our household and keeps your hands exceptionally clean at the table. Win for all.


















For the entire last year, you did not eat a single vegetable unless it was mixed into your favorite stir fry, chicken pot pie, or some other casserole-type dish. You simply refused. Daddy and I hold firm on our veggie policy with you: If you don't want what is offered, that's fine, but there's certainly nothing else to eat, especially dessert. Your chair has seen many tears and tantrums over food. We were delighted when two weeks ago, you conceded your stance and agreed for the first time ever to taste, chew and swallow three entire bites of fresh green beans. I guess Scooperman ice cream will do that to a veggie-hater.

Even though we go toe to toe at the dinner table and have a zero tolerance policy for hitting, kicking, and the like, Daddy and I have relaxed a bit in other areas since you've come along. There's all the leniency with television, you sing along to way too many PBS shows. We faced you forward in your expired car seat before two years old (I feel awful guilt and rebelliousness about this all at the same time). And then there's the ice cream at IKEA before lunch. Who are these coo-koos raising you, claiming to be responsible parents?

























One of your favorite pastimes is being outside. Mostly you enjoy playing with water, but other activities will also do. Anything to get that body moving and into the fresh air. I'm curious to see how you'll be when the snow flies, since we spent much of last winter debating the merits of mittens.

Your other favorite? Playing trains. All it took was one randomly selected Easy Reader from the library on Thomas the Train for you to fall in love. Your engines are always nearby, even with you when you sleep, alongside your most beloved "blanken". Sitting still for an entire half-hour episode of Thomas is out of the question, but you insist on reading the books multiple times every day.




































Daddy is the one who reads to you most often. Or at least the most consistently. Bedtime is when you two connect. And it's not just with books - you prefer Daddy to say prayers, sing a song and get you perfectly situated to sleep. Whether it's the stories or prayers or song lyrics, you easily finish the sentences of your favorite rhyming phrases. "...forgive my sins, and when I wate, help me the paff, of love to tate. A-min." 


















The words you speak increase every day. While "Daddy" is crystal clear, it's difficult at times to decipher "Moe-din" and "Ah-din" as you refer to your siblings. But what's most comical is that you just call me "Mom". No Momma or Mommy or any other cutesie toddler speak. Just straight-up, mature and to the point Mom. Period. You've started putting two words together to make little sentences like Bumpy Woad (Bumpy Road) or What Daddy Dooo-een (What is Daddy doing?). I love how your little mouth forms letters into words and the way you emphasize certain sounds like Bee-ib (bib).

Afternoon smoothies are your favorite snack with apples following closely behind. And you know the routine well: pick up Morgan from school and come home to a place on the couch.

I'm amazed that you sit so well for books, considering you are constantly needing to move. It's that discovery thing, you always want to know more about your newest encounters from the food I'm prepping to the one-inch binder Morgan is using for class. "What's Daht?" you constantly ask. And already, "Why?" 

Your brother and sister have definitely shown you up when it comes to sleep. Rocking out 12 hours a night has been the standard around these parts, so your ten hour slumbers have been, well, inadequate for my lofty expectations. Daddy and I did our best to stretch those sleep times, but like everything else, you just wouldn't have it any other way. Thankfully you are making up for it with lovely afternoon naps. I'll take it where I can get it.

So it's been a pretty full year for you, Matthew, soaking up life and making sure the rest of us are along for the ride. Something tells me that you're going to blaze a trail wherever you go. I am hopeful and prayerful that you and God stay on that trail together so those who end up following your lead will see how smart, loyal and loving you are, and also know Jesus because of you.

Happy second birthday, Matthew Evan.

All my love,
Mom

Follow God’s example, therefore, as dearly loved children and walk in the way of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God. Ephesians 5: 1-2

five years

Dear Andrew,

Happy, happy birthday! You are five today! And you are beyond thrilled, telling everyone what a special day it is.

It's been such a pivotal year for you. Sometimes it seems you're still the same kid from twelve months ago, but that's just not the case. You can ride a two-wheeler without training wheels and pump yourself on the swings. You can run harder, faster and longer than ever before. And you've grown so much - over 46 inches tall!

Your year started with a love for the Mister Rogers spin-off on PBS, Daniel Tiger's Neighborhood. By the end, you wanted Food Network's Pioneer Woman, Ree Drummond. You found her family life on a ranch just as appealing as her recipes. And it's no surprise - you love cooking, being in the kitchen with me, spreading butter, cutting veggies, measuring and pouring. You are such a tactile kid, Andrew, always wanting to "muss" in the dirt, your food, rocks, with your brother. I'm forever reminding you to keep your hands to yourself, to eat the food, not play with it, to wash up.

Boyhood is so fun for you. Sports and forts, outdoor quests, I never want these days to end. Your exploration and fascination for creation is limitless. Just a few days ago you ran to me, "Mom! You've got to see this most amazing thing!!!" Hundreds of ants working in the crack of the sidewalk captivated your attention. I love this about you, Andrew. You are amazed at God's design each and every day, in awe of how life works.

Daddy usually accompanies you on any number of adventures and offers up the best advice on how to achieve success with any given activity. Bowling, sledding, shooting hoops, creating castles at the beach - he's got a method to share. Sometimes you take his teachings to heart. Other times you insist on doing it alone. Either way, he's standing there with you until the end.

These action-packed exploits, however, wear you thin. Because you no longer nap, late afternoons are trying. Sometimes you sneak away to a quiet place and curl up with a pile of covers. Most times I find you fast asleep, shoes still on underneath the blankets.























To help pass times of boredom or get you from sleeping boy to dinnertime in one piece, we take selfies, you and I. And we have fun doing it. Looking back at our pictures makes me smile. And it's one of your favorite past times, scrolling through photos of our family on my phone, the laptop, anywhere. You'll replay footage more times than I can count, pausing certain points, then starting over again.

Your are still fascinated with vehicles. It's just your thing. When other people come to visit or play, you ask to see inside their cars/vans/trucks, and not just see, but buckle in, sit at the wheel, and check out the controls. You want a real feel for what it would be like to operate such an awesome set of wheels. Every few months you try to grasp the distance between now and age 16, asking how long it will take to reach that milestone birthday.


















For now, though, the focus is on the year ahead. In just a few weeks you'll be headed to Young Five's, a choice that Daddy and I really struggled to make. We want to do right by you, Andrew. We want the choices we make for you - the choices that will affect your entire life - to be the right ones. In short, we don't want to screw things up. It's not that you lack the academic ability to succeed in Kindergarten this year. In fact, your teacher last year told us you wrote the best letters of any boy in your class. It's just that the emotional side of you has yet to catch up with the amazing stuff going on in your brain.

I'm going to be honest here, Andrew. You are a brave little boy. So brave. Your injuries are only painful for ten seconds. You're willing to jump off the diving board and become completely submerged under the water. You'll try almost anything. But your highs are high, and your lows are so low. Devastatingly low. Sometimes it's only your thumb that can right the wrongs. The pain you feel is never external, but on the inside, crushing. Maybe it's immaturity, maybe it's personality, maybe it's birth order. Whatever the case, I can see how your make-up has affected your very being, especially your relationship with your best buddy Caleb. Other than your siblings, he's the only friend that can coerce you down the wrong path, hurt your feelings, and still come out on top. You love him so. We love his family. You are happy to invest in his ideas, quick to forgive him, and often share exactly what "Caleb says..." So when we learned that he would go on to Kindergarten without you, it stung. And yet, I believe that God designed your life to split from his, to go in a different direction, so that friendships can be added and you'll be able to lead, not just follow.

You get to practice that leadership when Morgan is away. Matthew loves to be your shadow, especially when you decide to do something against the grain. He's looking for an excuse to try the same adventurous path you're on and you happily blaze that trail. This year your brotherhood will be even more solidified as the time you spend together will increase.

As for Morgan, well, that dynamic remains the same for now. You're the button-pusher and she's the victim. Or most often, she calls the shots and you do as you're told. One day you'll wise up and stop taking all that first-born instruction. Just ask Aunt Sarah. It will hurt Morgan, but it's only temporary. Don't let your accommodating personality get in the way of what you really need, Andrew. That skill will serve you well in the future. 

It's crazy for me to imagine you as a tween, teen, or even an adult. Although sometimes I have to remind myself that you are JUST FOUR. Or now, JUST FIVE. Five years old. Bring those expectations back down, Momma. While you excel at many, many things that other kids your age are still working through, I never want to forget that you're FIVE. Five is young enough to wrestle with after dinner. Five is young enough to carry in my arms. Five is young enough to smother with goodnight kisses.



Every day a ridiculous amount of thoughts roll around in your head and spill out of your mouth. Most include descriptive replays of your dreams, of injury-producing incidents on the sidewalk, of injustices you suffered because of your siblings. But alongside those accounts come sweet, sweet words from you, Andrew. Sincere, genuine, truthful words. "This is the best dinner ever!" or "Dad's not awesome, he's fun to play with!" or any number of manner-laced sentences bubbling over with appreciation. It's with a pure heart that you pray as you ask God for help in overcoming obstacles or keeping away thunderstorms. What makes that all so special, Andrew, is that it's unprompted. It's not contrived or expected or any sort of obligation. It's just you.

My guess is you'll always be in love with cars, you'll always paint your stories (not point), and you'll always light up a room with your sweet smile. But I hope and pray that you'll always be as earnest and heartfelt as you are at this age.

Andrew, you are an incredible blessing to our family. Happy birthday to the sweetest, most sincere, little guy I know. I love you to pieces. 

Always,

Mom

But the wisdom that comes from heaven is first of all pure; then peace-loving, considerate, submissive, full of mercy and good fruit, impartial and sincere. Peacemakers who sow in peace reap a harvest of righteousness. 

James 3: 17-18

second grader

Today was Morgan's first day of second grade. Opening chapel was a riot (parents are always invited to stay), plus Morgan said there was time on the playground and a fire drill. The half-day was over so quickly!

(The boys and I helped Morgan carry in her supplies while she found her desk. Her teacher told all the kids walking into the classroom to start on the "secret message". And, of course, she focused and never said another word to us. Her nerves were glad to be occupied.)

custom

I don't know if it was something he saw on PBS or where he got the idea, but Andrew asked all week about making a drive-able car out of a cardboard box.

Hmmm.

We did our best to accommodate. He was thrilled.