08-08-07 Coming of age...

Happy belated birthday, me! August 6 was the day I was born in Alberta, Canada. Now I live with my precious family in our newly purchased home in Oregon. This week I have escaped the “fun house” and am relaxing at a truly fun house (my parent’s place) at the coast. I am now officially 32 years old and feeling every minute of it (and then some). But I am taking it easy and having a delightful, responsibility-free week out here. The Oregon coast is beautiful, warm and the perfect place to vacation. It doesn’t hurt either that I don’t have to stress about what to make for supper or that the only bum I wipe is Silas’ and my own. Ahhh. Life is good.

A couple Jerusha conversations which transpired on the four hour trip:

Jerusha, at the gas station: Mommy, why don’t we get unlettuce anymore?
Mommy: Pardon me?
Jerusha: I said, why don’t we get unlettuce anymore?
Mommy: Jerusha, you need to explain to me what you mean when you say “unlettuce”.
Jerusha, exasperated: You know. Like when you used to say “regular unlettuce” and now you just say “regular”.
Mommy: Oh! Did you mean regular un-LEADED?

Jerusha, at the same gas station: Micah can you help me get my unbuckle done?
Micah: Your unbuckle? Do you mean "undo your buckle"?
Jerusha: That’s what I said; can you help me get my unbuckle done.

Mommy (moments later): Well Jerusha, we’ve filled the tank with unlettuce and we’ve gotten the unbuckle done; shall we go to the restroom and un-pee while we are at it?
Jerusha with a heavy sigh: Moommmmyyyyyy!

Micah did a great job with the entertainment aspect of the trip. His mission, should he choose to accept it, was to keep Silas from screaming in Mom’s ear and thus avoiding a car crash (accident or otherwise). He accepted this mission impossible and was for the most part successful. Silas absolutely hates being strapped into his car seat.

Savannah was not with us because she was at camp this past week, so she and our dear friend Aunty Mary, met us at Mom’s for a brief hello before my sister took Mary back to Medford. Shahala, my sister, had been at my parents for just about a week and we were able to get a picture of ALL eight grandkiddies together. I took 24 pictures and will still have to photoshop to get one where they all look great… Or at least are looking at the camera. I will post the picture as soon as I am home.

Silas is *finally* in size 18 months. Yeah! His PJs were squishing his toes and the onesie shirts were getting hard to snap up. Albert says he looks chunkier as well. All I can notice is that he is eating and pooping more. It seems like a never ending cycle four or five times a day I fill him upand ten to fifteen times a day he empties out. It is pure heaven knowing that he is growing and eating like any other normal little man. The other thing he is doing that is completely normal for my children? He has hit the terrible twos with a vengeance. You know, the whole scream, flop on the floor, kick, hit, bite tantrums that come with the territory. And then he is so darn cute that with a little salt and pepper I could just eat him up. He definitely prefers the word “no”, with the n drawn out, more than any other word and “da-doe” is his word for anything he doesn’t know the name of yet. He cuddles and gives perfect kisses (ie. with his mouth closed ;- > ) and he even winks with his face all scrunched up. It is such a privilege to be able to stare at him watching his chest rise and fall while he sleeps and remember that this was the baby that couldn’t breathe when he was born. This past year and a half has been a powerful journey for me. I gave birth to my fourth child (a wonderful surprise God bestowed). I watched that very same gift slip away to the next life and then be restored to my arms. I mourned with both new and old friends whose babies stayed in heaven to play with the angels. I rejoiced with friends whose children are now walking and talking after suffering so many traumas at and following birth. The grief is still raw but the joy is more poignant because of it. I have felt sadness and despair so deeply that I thought I’d turn inside out and I have been so ecstatic over things as simple as a poopie diaper. It has been a roller coaster ride that continues as I type. I look forward to the coming years in my life; they simply must be easier. I feel I have aged a decade this last year and a need a few years of *gentle* aging to catch up.