Where does Jesus shop?

Jeffrey woke up from his nap today and said to me, "I wanna go see Jesus. I like his shirts."

Where do you suppose Jesus gets his shirts that are so memorable they would make an impression on a two-year old. Jeffrey has never commented on someone's clothes before (other than the color).

Now I want to see Jesus' shirts. I feel left out.

Jeffrey is a rock star

Ever since Jeffrey was in my belly, he's loved music. At church, he would just wiggle and kick like crazy during worship. When he was a baby, he would get excited during worship, or whenever we had music playing. My sister gave him a little toy piano when he turned one. I have video of him playing it, wiggling his hips like Elvis. I don't remember when he was given his toy guitar... He plays the guitar and piano all the time, all while singing whatever comes to mind. (Typically it sounds like "On and on and on and on, OHHHHH!!!!")

He started dancing as soon as he could walk. We tell him to shake his bon-bon and he starts to shake his butt. (SO cute!)

He and his friend Colton "crazy dance" on Tuesdays. You can imagine what that looks like. (It looks as it sounds...)

Jeffrey sings in the bathtub. He sings when he's reading. He sings when he's climbing on stuff. He sings when he's getting into mischief (which is pretty much constantly).

Scott has a Living Sacrifice t-shirt with the faces of the band members on it. Jeffrey will point to the drummer and ask, "Who's dat?"

Daddy replies, "That's the drummer: dun-dun-TSE-dun-dun-dun-TSE."

Jeffrey will point to the guitarist and ask, "Who's dat?"

Dad replies, "That's the guitarist: doo-doo-dooWEEEE!" (imitating a guitar sound)

Jeffrey will point to the lead singer and ask, "Who's dat?"

Dad replies, "That's the singer: WAAAAAHHHHH!!!" (kind of screaming/growling like the lead singer... Hey, it's heavy metal Christian. That's what it sounds like.)

Now Jeffrey goes around saying, "Dun-dun-TSE-dun-dun-dun-TSE... doo-doo-doo-WEEEE... WAAHHHHHHH!!!!!" It's hilarious.

The other day, he was playing his piano, when he handed me his guitar and said, "Mommy, play guitar!" He went back to the piano and played while he sang. I was trying to get it on video, but every time I stopped playing his guitar, he'd whip his head around and yell at me, "Mommy!! Play GUITAR!" He was very adamant. Later that day, he moved his piano to one of the end tables... kind of like a little make-shift stage.

When daddy got home, Jeffrey handed him two wooden spoons and told him to play the drums. We got ourselves a band!

Just today he wrote a song about how Newton died. Seriously. Out of nowhere, I hear:

Oh, Newton died

Oh, Newton died

Kitty

Kitty

Newt died

I don't know where he comes up with this stuff. Newton died like 3 months ago.

Good observations

Kids are hilarious. This morning Jeffrey was rocking Eden in the rocking chair. A few minutes into it, she started to fuss. I told him, "Honey, I need to feed the baby."


He replied in his usual matter-of-fact way, "Jeffrey feeds the baby," and then lifted his shirt and tried to shove his nipple into her mouth.

Last week, Scott went to pick up Jeffrey from school. When he got there, the teachers were sort of giggling and saying they have a funny story to share. Earlier in the day, Jeffrey was playing with this new doll house they got. His teacher found Jeffrey with his shirt up and the doll's face on his nipple. She said, "He notices!" Gee, ya think?

Every time I'm feeding Eden, he comes up and pokes me in the boob saying, "She drinks the milk in there! There's milk in there!"

I tell him, "Yes, honey, there's milk in there. Mommy makes milk for the baby."

He'll repeat, "Mommy makes the milk in there!" And then asks me, "Jeffrey try it?"

Um... no....

But today he said, "Jeffrey makes milk for the baby."

Um... no....

Secretly, I wish Jeffrey could make the milk for the baby. I'd get a lot more done that way.

The Arrival of a Wigglebean - Saga to March 30th Post

Every once in a while, I like to go back to read my past posts. It's nice to get a gauge on prayers and blessings this way... And it's also fun to laugh at past events. My life is a sitcom, seriously.

The opening statement has a point, but I'll come back to it...

Hard to believe that after all this waiting, the Wigglebean finally arrived. Ok, so I'm late making the big blog announcement. (I'm pretty certain that most people who read this are involved in my life and, thus, already know. If not, oh well.) Here's the scoop:

Just one month ago, after

just 3 hours and 18 minutes from the time my water broke at 10:31 pm October 10th, we delivered Eden Noelle Matkovich at 1:48 am, October 11, 2009. She was 9 pounds, 3 ounces, and 21 1/4 inches long.Eden has a massive tuft of black curly hair (apparently we have thick, dark curly hair on both sides of the family) and big hands with long fingers (my side). She is beautiful and already a good eater and sleeper!

I was extremely relaxed through the first 2+ hours, and hardly experienced any pain at all. The last hour was pretty intense, but I progressed so quickly that we really didn't have time to think about it. The docs and staff were running around prepping stuff as I was pushing, which was pretty funny looking back. The nurse said it was a picture perfect delivery, and our doc commented that I was in control the entire time. (I sort of lost perspective those last 10 minutes so I'm not sure what his definition of "control" is....) All in all it was a very beautiful experience, and I'm so grateful for HypBirth training that helped me stay so

relaxed throughout the ordeal. (I'll eventually write a post on the HypBirth experience, which will likely be way TMI for most people. In which case, don't read it.) Eden's shoulders got stuck. (Which, by the way, is the exact opposite of my prayer for a baby with small shoulders, exactly for this reason). I just remember the doc telling me, "Kyra, I need you to listen to me." I made eye contact with him, and the rest is a blurr. See, when you're concentrating on birthing a baby, you're not really paying attention to what's happening around you. But, the story, so I'm told, is that the doc said that the baby is stuck and I needed to help them get me into another position so that my hips would open more. Apparently, I did some sort of circus trick and flipped my legs up over my head, and POP, out came baby. Kind o

f funny hearing about that after the fact. It's impressive that I'm so flexible. (Note to self.)

Daddy is so proud... He already is doting all over his little girl.

Unfortunately, the birthing center adopted new policies during this flu season. We could only have 2 visitors - Scott being one of them. So, our plan to have Gramma bring Jeffrey to meet his sister had to be changed. It was nice to just be alone without a bunch of people coming in and out for a couple of days. I actually sent Scott home one night because baby was fussy and he wasn't getting any sleep. It didn't make sense to have both of us sleep deprived.

Jeffrey was introduced to Eden upon our return home on October 12th. (I'll post the video later.) He's been in love with her ever since. He LOVES, loves, loves his little sister. He always wants to hold her, kiss her... count her toes, pat her head, give her hugs. He tells me every time the baby cries. He laughs at her hiccups (which is often), and he likes to kiss her goodnight. It's so sweet.

So... I was re-reading past posts. I made the general announcement that we were pregnant on March 30th. It was quite the ordeal early on. We didn't know if we would lose our baby, and it seemed like we would in the early stages. It's funny to me that our baby was so wiggly from the beginning. All throughout the pregnancy, baby just wiggled constantly. And I mean CONSTANTLY. She wasn't a kicker... She rolled back and forth and flipped this way and that. I had forgotten that she was the same way during that ultrasound appointment in Portland, which is when we named her Wigglebean.

She is still a wiggly little thing. Her little arms and legs are always on the move. I can only imagine what life will be like when she starts to roll, crawl and walk. I'll need a leash!

Needless to say, I'm incredibly grateful. The Lord has brought us this beautiful gift. He held her in His hands from the beginning, told me (us) to trust Him, and a few months later we're holding this life in our arms. I'm surprised she didn't come out with a big red bow around her body. Thank you, Jesus.

So, what's life like with an infant and a toddler? I'll write more about that later. I'll just say this: I'm glad I can drink again. :-)

Soon

Down to just the last few weeks... maybe days... maybe hours as a family of three.

This morning I woke up to a beautiful misty fog. It's my day off. It dawned on me that this morning could be the last alone with my first born, who, until the birth of baby #2, is the light and joy of my life.

After daddy left for work, we bundled up and headed to Riverfront. I love mornings like this because, surprisingly, the park is bare. Only the very few brave moms who don't mind their kids getting a bit wet and muddy show up. (Kind of ironic considering we live in Oregon.) So the park is pretty much ours. We ran to the river to look at the water ("wadoo") and the lone speed boat that zoomed this way and that. Then Picklebean remembered the slides. So, we ran (well, he ran, I waddled) back to the play structures so he could climb and jump and slide. The slide was, of course, covered in water droplets, with a bit of a puddle at the bottom, which Jeffrey slid right through - jeans soaking up pretty much all of it. At one point, he ran full speed across the playground and tripped, sending him face first into the bark mulch. Being that it was wet, every piece of mulch that touched his body stuck there. He came up, face, lips and body covered in mulch. He tried to spit it out, but it just made it run a little down his lips. It was a moment I wish I had on camera. There's something very sweet about a dirty little boy.... Especially one that hates to be dirty.

After 40 minutes splashing in puddles, looking at fallen leaves, climbing slippery ladders and jumping off steps, we headed back to the car. It seemed like the perfect morning for hot chocolate and a donut. I called daddy to see if he needed any coffee. (He would never turn it down... Actually, it was just an excuse to see him. We miss him on these mornings.)

I mentioned hot chocolate... Jeffrey responded, "Chocolate milkshake?" I said, "Hot chocolate?" He repeated, "Chocolate milkshake?" Now, normally I wouldn't dream of feeding my child a milkshake at 10:30 in the morning. But... we don't have too many left together. And this morning just screamed for something special. So, chocolate milkshake it was... Oh, and a donut, which he finished in about 30 minutes, just about an hour from nap time. (Note to self: You know better to feed your child large quantities of sugar and fat just before a nap.)

When we got home, we both stripped down to our tees and undies. Jeffrey watched Veggie Tales' Heroes of the Bible as I cleaned the kitchen, did some laundry and vacuumed. I kind of wanted to continue cleaning - cuz once this baby comes, I won't have much energy to scrub toilets and mirrors, etc. But I also wanted to cherish the moments I have left with my Picklebean. So, I just stood in the doorway to our living room and watched my son for a while. It brought a tear to my eye to think that it won't be just the two of us any more.

So, I grabbed a pillow, put on the Praise Baby CD and snuggled up close. As always, he leaned into me, and put his arm around my neck, playing with my ear. I breathed in his warm breath, closed my eyes and just enjoyed the moment - his soft hair tickling my cheek and eyelashes. He giggled... I giggled... and we snuggled closer. I could tell he was close to drifting off, so I picked him up, he tightened his legs around my waist, as he does only when he's ready to sleep, and I carried him to his room. He let out a tiny whimper - as if to tell me he didn't want to be alone. I had no intentions to just leave him there. I wanted more time with him. So we laid on his bed, he snuggled into me like a tiny little spoon, and I could feel his body relax. I just rubbed his back until I heard his breaths deepen, and his little body jerk as he found his peaceful sleep. It was hard not to squeeze him and weep. He's such an angel.

It's hard to imagine another child owning my heart the way that my son does. I can't understand the depths of my love for my one child, much less having enough love for two. I fall in love more and more every day... and soon there will be another. And yet I know that God has created us to love in this way. There's always enough, even when you think there isn't enough room just for the one. Sometimes I feel my heart stretching under the pressure of my love where it could burst from my chest at any moment. It's such a beautiful feeling. No other human has ever made me feel this way. And I don't believe any other human could. I think these feelings are saved - special for those we call our children.

God loves us in this way - and even more. He loves us in ways that cannot be expressed by words alone. I believe He gives us a special gift of love when we have our own children - either by birth or adoption or foster care, or any other method we welcome a child into our life and home. I remember contemplating this when I held Jeffrey in my arms for the first time. And for the first time, I understood what God meant by unconditional love. I understood what He meant when He calls me His child; made in His image. And I look at my son and think God used me and my beloved to co-create this little person in our image. In HIS image. It's wonderful.

And God has blessed us with another. The journey has been far from easy. We wondered if I would ever experience this precious one's first movements... I remember God asking me if I was willing to give up everything for Him. And I remember humbly opening my hands to Him saying, "Yes, Jesus... Everything I have belongs to you," which included the life in my belly. And God answered our desperate prayers. I don't take this gift lightly. In fact, I often feel undeserving - especially in light of others who have lost babies along the way, or are dealing with difficulties in even getting pregnant. I can't imagine the desperation of those prayers, and the longing in their hearts to hold their own little darling, or the hole in their family that they so eagerly wish to fill... Their dreams of examining those tiny little fingernails, caressing those soft earlobes, and breathing in the sweet breath of a brand new infant.... I wonder why God allowed us another miracle when others have been waiting so patiently for one of their own. I can't answer these questions, but it makes me incredibly grateful, even amidst the pains and aches and inconveniences of pregnancy.

I am so grateful for this morning; for the time I got to spend with my son; for his laughs and hugs and sly glances. And I'm grateful that soon we'll be welcoming the fourth member of our family into our life. I pray it would be so. And I pray for all the love that I will need - that is so far beyond anything I can comprehend - to just abound and overflow. I know it isn't something I manufacture on my own, so I look to my Father to teach me.

To my baby girl (assuming the docs are correct): I can't wait to see your face. I can't wait for your big brother to give you gentle kisses. I can't wait for your daddy to hold you safely in his arms. I can't wait to call you by name for the first time. I'm scare to death of what it means to mother a daughter, but I promise to fall to my knees daily and ask God to show me how. I loved you from the time you were just a glimmer of hope, to the time I had to loose my grip around you, to the time I felt your first kick, to the time we learned you are our first daughter, to now. Every day a little more. I've shed many joyful tears (and a few painful ones) over you. You are not mine alone. You belong first to Jesus, and I pray that I will be His hands and His voice until you come to know Him personally. You are a gift, and we willingly accept this gift with the utmost humility. I pray for your safe journey. We'll be here waiting for you with open arms. - Love, Mommy

Good Cry

Maybe it's just cuz I'm super pregnant, which means I'm irrationally emotional. But today I just feel like throwing myself on the floor, kicking and screaming in a two-year-old-style fit and bawling my eyes out. Trying to get through a difficult pregnancy, balancing my home, my marriage and my family, raising a toddler, and trying to take care of work stuff all at the same time is stressing me out. I'm feeling very alone...

I have no idea who reads this (if anyone) - ok... that's not entirely true. I know of some people who read this (and even one person who reads this who doesn't know that I know reads this, and I'm not altogether sure why she reads this since she has ignored me for the last 2 years). But for the most part, I don't know who reads this... And I don't want to come across is being whiney or ungrateful. I'm not whining, and I'm far from ungrateful. In fact, I'm incredibly blessed. There are, however, a lot of things going on simultaneously and most people in their right minds would feel stressed about it. I just don't really have a place to let it out... (Gosh, I miss friends.)

Excuse me while I get some chocolate.

I'm back. Chocolate in hand (and in mouth).

Never mind. Chocolate has made it clear that this is not the venue to vent.

Sometimes you need a good cry. Maybe it's just a girl thing. (I don't think I've ever heard a dude say, "I need a good cry." Well... once, but he was gay, so that doesn't count.) So I'm just going to keep it all to myself, but hopefully have a good, long, private ugly cry alone.

Hug Jesus

One of the greatest pleasures (and honors) of my life is having the opportunity to introduce and represent Jesus to my kids. Next to loving the Lord my God with all my heart and all my soul and all my mind, (oh, and being a help mate to my spousal unit) this is my highest calling. And I want to do it well.

I'm sure all parents believe their kid is gifted. And spiritually speaking, all kids ARE gifted. I'm not entirely sure what gift(s) Jeffrey has, but God is already doing something awesome in him. I could recite story after story, but I'll just give a quick snippet from last night.

About an hour before bed, Jeffrey decided he wanted to watch Veggie Tales' Easter Carrol. (Gotta love singing vegetables!) There is this part in the movie when the little angel was singing about the story of Easter. The visual was basically stained glass windows in a church, where they depict the birth, life and death of Jesus - and finally the Resurrection. The first window that showed a grown Jesus, Jeffrey ran up to the TV screen, put his hand over him and said, "Jesus!" It's neat that he even knows the various illustrations of Jesus.

Then, we read his Toddler Bible. He points to Noah and calls all the animals by name... When we get to the story of David and Goliath, he points to David and says, "Kick butt...." (Oops... That just came out one day when I told him that David kicked Goliath's butt. It stuck. I hope that doesn't get in him in trouble in Sunday School one day.) And when we get to the baby Jesus and all the pictures of Jesus thereafter, Jeffrey points and says, "Jesus" to each. So cute.

By this time, it was time to get tucked in and say our prayers. I got him all snuggled and cozy, and asked if I could pray for him. (I don't ever want to assume that this is ok.) He, of course, said, "Uh-huh!" (He loves to be prayed for. He could be totally hyper, but as soon as we begin to pray, he settles right down, looks deeply into our eyes and listens intently.) So, I prayed... some variation of the same prayer I pray every night, which ended, "Amen!" And Jeffrey repeats, "Amen!"

And then, out of nowhere, he said, "Talk, Jesus?" He was asking if he could talk to Jesus.

I replied, "Do you want to talk to Jesus?"

Jeffrey answered, "Uh-huh!"

I asked him, "Is Jesus here?"
He said, "Uh-huh!"

I told him, "Honey, Jesus loves it when you talk to Him. You can talk to Jesus any time you want."

Then he stretched his arms out to each side and said, "Hug, Jesus?"

I asked, "Do you want to hug Jesus?"

He replied, "Uh-huh!"

I told him, "Oh, honey... Jesus loves your hugs."

This isn't the first time Jeffrey said that Jesus was there. It makes me wonder if he really sees Jesus (which is entirely possible). I'd like to think that Jesus IS there. That's part of our prayer every night - an invitation for Jesus to come.

There is no greater joy than to see my son fall in love with Jesus. I'm excited about the day when we get to have conversations about the Bible and who Jesus is. But I'm more excited (and sometimes burdened) by showing Jeffrey who Jesus is. (I'd rather Jeffrey see Scott and I walking with Jesus, than hear us just talk about it.)

What a blessing. I can only imagine the joy that Jesus feels when He hears a child call Him by name and want a hug. I know my heart is warmed when Jeffrey wants to hug me. How much more so does our Heavenly Father rejoice when "the least of these" wants a hug? It's beautiful.