Grant Alexander {Happy 2nd Birthday!}

Other mothers warned me that this would happen.

Time is whipping by me, and I can hardly catch my breath. Yesterday my little tiny, 4 lb. 10 oz. baby turned 2! He long ago graduated into the world of "toddler" and he has careened his way through year two with the stereotypical curiosity and intensity that is attributed to little walkers.

Baby Grant
{December 2012}

Grant's life hasn't been predictable to date. In his first year, he was adopted, and then moved across the country. We decided to spice up year two by adding a baby sister and plenty of health problems for Mama.

But my dear son is already developing an unflappable calm and a gentle willingness to cuddle with whoever needs a little love and down-time. (It may be the most unrestful cuddle you've ever had, but nonetheless, he's offering it.)

We love you, precious son. Every day, you are a gift. Every day, you are our precious Grant. We don't deserve the privilege of being your parents, but we are so incredibly glad that God has entrusted you to us for this short time. We pray fervently that your love for your Creator would develop early, and your passion for his glory would consume your life.

Character {at age 2}

Grant is my gentle warrior. He is fearless with those he loves, and he is very faithful in helping those who are weaker than he is. He is now the oldest baby in our little church nursery, and he's taken this charge quite seriously. Whether it's procuring toys for little ones, or worrying that they might be sick throughout the week, he is very careful to help the "babies."

His favorite baby is his little sister, who he affectionately refers to as "Betsy Boo-Boo" or "Baby." How he has won her affection, I'll never know. Too often his "love" is exhibited by near suffocation (because Baby needs a blanket, or someone to sit on her head), and terrible wrestling accidents (only Bets would think it was hilarious to be dragged around by her diaper).

Grant continues to be very obedient, and although this second year brought more temptation and teaching opportunities than the previous year did, he is a very quick study. His occasional bouts with defiance are quite intense, but we are very thankful for these intermittent displays of stubbornness. They prove that our gentle follower can dig in his heals. Now, we just need mountains of wisdom to teach him when he should use that skill!

Perhaps every mother dreams of this, but I see an artist in my little man. He loves detail work, and is very attentive to slight errors or mistakes. He loves to paint, color, and produce "music" on the piano. Mechanically minded, he's forever flipping toys over and taking them apart rather than playing with them.

Milestones {at age 2}

Grant has done a lot in his second year. He learned to walk, to run, and to perfect his "hippity-hop" dance move. He holds his pens/pencils/markers almost correctly. He went from a collection of two words ("ball," and "shoe") to a plethora of words and phrases. Animal names (croccodiles are the current favorite) and transportation vehicles are the clear front-runners. However, a recent slew of action words (cook, dance, eat, need, etc.) have been cropping up.

We have finally conquered his debilitating fear of thresholds, sidewalk cracks, and curbs. It took several months. No. I am not kidding. My dear, careful little boy would get down on his hands and knees and crawl over any obstacle in his way. I must credit a large portion of success in this area to the neighborhood jungle-gym. After climbing up a slide the wrong way, door jams just don't seem as terrifying.

Grant has learned how to be a helper this year. He follows very complex commands without repetition or clarification ("Grant, get your foot out of the green bowl and go put it in the drawer it belongs in.") He delights in putting away laundry (although this wreaks havoc on any folding that may have previously been done.) He loves doing "sink dishes" and "cooking."

Favorites {at age 2}

This boy loves animals. Every animal. Big. Small. Scary. Loud. Fluffy. Scaly. Slimy. I never wanted to be that mom with a small menagerie in her kitchen. I now realize that I won't have much of a choice. This boy loves animals. I draw the line at birds, but every other kind of creature will probably be "rescued" by this budding zoologist.

Grant loves his family. He regularly asks about family members in the Midwest, and he loves to get videos from "Tia." Having matching shoes with "Unka Teej" was probably the highlight of his summer. He adores FaceTime, videos, and pictures of family. Grant loves wrestling with his grandpas and his demands that every uncle-in-law play "horsey" must constantly be monitored. He idolizes his sister. He talks about where his daddy is all day every day. He is my quiet people person. He loves a crowd, he loves laughter and conversation. And while he may not be in the spotlight, he loves soaking up all the fellowship.

A recent and growing fascination of Grant's has been with reading. He adores reading.  His mother and father (two inveterate bookworms) are thrilled. We could do it for hours every day. He pulls out a favorite, backs his little caboose into your lap, and demands unceremoniously, "Read ______!" Book after book. Right now, his favorite is "Cinderella." Yup. No joke. And no, I didn't push it. He just landed on it and loves it.

He would watch "Mater" and "Pooh" for hours each day (if his mother wasn't such a cold-hearted creature). On our road trips he also enjoys "Cinderelly" and "Mary Poppins." (Although, Poppins is generally what induces a nap...)

His favorite color is blue. (But I have a sneaking suspicion that this is because "blue" is the only color he knows.) Regardless, his birthday was full of blue cupcakes with blue sprinkles.

He requested "french fries" for a birthday breakfast and "cheese" for dinner.

We were happy to oblige.


Happy 2nd Birthday, Grant Alexander! We love your busy little soul with our whole hearts. The gift of you is a delightful, daily treasure.


((Hugs!))

A Family of Four {The First Month}

Well, our house is now "empty."

After five wonderful weeks of Grandma, Grandpa, Oma, Opa, aunties and uncles... we are all alone. Just the four of us.

The past month has been a blur of learning and sleeplessness. It's been much easier than when we did the same thing with the Grantopatomus. I want to believe that the "easiness" has come as a result of increased spiritual maturity on my part. That's what I want to believe. I did walk into this period of sleeplessness better prepared--I had verses to meditate on, a Bible reading plan, and a commitment to mental and spiritual discipline.

But in the end, it was the grace of God, not all my striving... He knew I needed spiritual rest. And He graciously provided it when I sought it.

The Lord is my provider.

That's what I've learned this month.

I can do everything "right." And it doesn't matter. God calls the shots. He provides and withholds as He sees fit.

I learned this in His willingness to provide spiritual rest. And I learned this in His allowing physical difficulties for my little baby girl. Wee Bets is still not at her birth weight. I did everything "right." And God, who is the ultimate provider, decided that my baby would stay small, that breastfeeding would be a massive challenge, and that feedings every hour (even through the night!) wouldn't be enough to boost her weight.

Now, armed with internal peace and a small syringe/medical tubing to feed my baby, I think we're finally on the upward trajectory. We'll find out on Thursday at our doctor's appointment!

(One of these days, I will have a fat infant... But so far, my children seem determined to test my sanctification by being incredibly small and difficult to feed.)

Because stringing words together is still a challenge, I've decided to finish off a summary of this past month with pictures. I've countless other thoughts tumbling around in my head, but I'll wait until they can be more coherently produced.

Meeting Oma at the hospital!

Tia Julie and her newest niece... 

"Umm... what is this?" 

Our precious "Bettina"

Helping Daddy with a project. A 124 year-old house means he'll get lots of opportunities to learn!

Playing in the toolbox Daddy made when he was little.

Little "Chicka-Bee" meeting Opa

Of course, a visit from Uncle Teej guaranteed that Grantlet wouldn't be neglected.

This was not staged. They both clearly enjoy napping.

Fighting for his title of "the cool uncle."

Imbibing the Grantopatomus with a love of hats.

Wee Bets and "cool Uncle Teej."

Whirling across the floor in a diaper box... Opa is so COOL!

Like we said... Opa is so cool. Mad grandparenting skills.

Meeting Grandma Marcia! (Baby is our own Little Miss Bug-Eyes!)

Meeting Grandpa Keith!

Exploring the most amazing bubble machine of all time.

Loving our Moby wrap... Baby heaven, Mommy multi-tasking.

Cuddles with Daddy-o.

Milk-drunk baby... Our daughter is quite the ham.

Learning to use a fork! (Although, we prefer to use it as a baton, as opposed to an eating utensil.)

In case anyone was worried... The Grantopatomus didn't suffer from a lack of attention.

Daddy/daughter nap time.

Stay tuned for our next post: Newborn pics of "Bettina," "Wee Bets," "Chicka-Bee," "Betsy-Boo-Boo."

It's a miracle my children ever learn their given names...

13 Months Later... Our Miracle Gift: Grant Alexander

Thirteen months. (Because I forgot at month twelve. Oops.)

That's it.

30 days over one year.

Soooo skeptical of his new parents.

I've only had 395 days with my little man, but it feels like he's been knit into my heart since before time began.

My baby is growing up. He's starting to look more like a toddler, and I had a mini-mommy-breakdown when I realized that I didn't need to shop in the baby section any more.

Thirteen months ago, Scott and I were awakened around 11:15 with a phone call. We were about to be parents. We dashed to the hospital (a three hour car ride is agonizing when you're in suspense), and we met our precious "Grantlet."

I grew into being a good parent. Scott was born a good parent.

For the next 48 hours, we held our breath, held his tiny body, and prayed for strength and grace. On December 12, 2012, Grant's bio-mama officially signed us over as guardians of this tiny bundle, and my heart began to beat normally again. Technically, we didn't become Grant's parents until March 2013. But technicalities have a way of becoming non-essential when you fall in love.

This past year has been full of opportunities to wait. To pray. To cry out for strength. To plead for wisdom. To rejoice with thankfulness. To rest in peace.

First family photo!

And we've learned that God always hears... And He fills our lives with good things. I've spent more time exhausted, convicted, and emotionally drained these past 13 months, than I have in any previous 13 month period. I've also been filled with more love, joy, and delight than I ever thought possible.

Grant Alexander lives up to his name. He has truly been "granted" to us as a trust. We know he is not our baby, he belongs to the Creator of heaven and earth, and we daily pray that he will be used in a powerful way to spread the glory of God.

For his birthday, he graduated from his dairy,
soy, and gluten allergies! Yay, for real
birthday cake!

Character {at age one}

Grant is exceptionally quiet and gentle. He's happy and peaceful almost all the time, and his "meltdowns" usually consist of some subdued whining. He's our little "detail man"--just like his daddy! One night, for dinner, he was eating beans. Mommy spilled some beans on his highchair tray, and Grant picked them up, one-by-one, and placed them back in his bowl. His attention to detail makes him very receptive to the emotions of others. When Mama is sick, he likes to play quietly at her feet. When a friend is crying, Grant usually becomes very worried.

Grant still remains very timid and hesitant to try new things. He doesn't like adventures. He doesn't like excitement. He doesn't like noise. Fortunately, God in his wisdom gave Grant a daddy who doesn't like adventures, so someone understands our tiny boy's hesitance. But God also gave Grant a mommy who loves new things, so there's someone to push him to grow and not be fearful.

Milestones {at age one}

The thumb has become a recent staple.
And isn't that elephant hat AMAZING!?

Grant (in keeping with his personality) excels at detail-oriented play. He's got a fantastic pincer-grip that he's been using since 9 months of age. He recently learned to stack blocks (but he still doesn't like making them crash down, despite repeated coaching from his mother). 

This is snow. It is new. We are not thrilled.

He is remarkably strong, and incredibly agile. Although he is fully capable of walking, Grant prefers to play it safe. He has yet to shuffle more than one foot in front of the other. He took a tumble off of two stairs approximately 3 months ago. He has expressed no interest in climbing stairs since. His natural cautiousness is saving Mommy and Daddy a bundle on child-proofing.

He's "talking," but not as much as his speech therapist mama might like. Like I mentioned above, he's a quieter baby. But his comprehension is beautiful, so Mommy isn't going into therapy mode just yet. He obeys the commands "no" and "come here." And he's generally very obedient. Recently, we've started working on sitting still and "contentment," because my baby boy has never been very good at being still. Fortunately, with Bets coming, we've had lots of opportunities to practice in doctors' offices and during reading time each day. Although he doesn't like it, he's picking up on the concept very quickly, and mommy is quite proud of him.

Favorites {at age one}

But our second time out in snow, we are thrilled. 

 Our son loves music. Loves it. I've worked with lots of children. All children like music. Grant loves music. He makes a drum out of everything he can find, he'll "play" the piano for 30 minutes at a time, and he dances any time he hears music. His favorites are old hymns (just another way he is like his daddy!), and he'll bee-bop right along to "Great Is Thy Faithfulness" as though it has the most fantastic rhythm he ever heard.

Grant, our timid son, is completely, totally, and without a doubt, not afraid of water. He loves super-deep baths, and he'll plunge his entire face in the water, take violent headers, and topple backwards into bubbles without a single cry. He loves it. He comes up, gagging and sputtering, rescued from the bubbly depths by an anxious mother, and he just grins. Bath time is Mommy's cardiovascular workout.

But far and away, Grant's favorite thing is attention. He loves all eyes on him. He basks in the glow of approval. A disapproving look will destroy him, and a smile makes his world all sunshine and roses. He's a people person through and through.

Grant Alexander {one year}
photo credit: Erika Aileen Photography

So, dear Grant Alexander, happy 13 month birthday! We love you. Your mommy and daddy can't wait to see what God's plan is for our gentle, detail-oriented, people-person. But don't grow up too fast... Mommy needs her baby for quite a few more years.

Back Home Again... In Michigan

Well, more than a week after our return, I've finally unloaded my camera (but still not my suitcase!), stocked the kitchen, scrubbed the house, and returned to normalcy. Grant and I were able to fly home for a short visit to see family in Indiana and Michigan before flying became impossible for mommy and miserable for Grant (the child likes to move!). We left Scott in Philly, and became seasoned jet-setters, as we navigated airports solo... just baby, Mommy, a car seat, a massive "purse," and rolling carry-on. Needless to say, we were relieved to finally land in Detroit. (I'm not sure how happy most people are to arrive  in Detroit, but I most definitely was.)

'

We visited "Granny& Gramps" Allison in Lansing... and Grantopatomus enjoyed all the attention (who wouldn't!?), and mommy enjoyed all the pizza and fun conversation.

Probably the cutest lil' gangster around. 

What on earth  are they feeding my little Boilermaker!?!

I would submit that no child's life is complete if there are not plenty of embarrassing bath pictures. And (of course) the quintessential bath picture should really  be snapped while you're in Grandmama's sink, playing with your father's vintage toys.

At this point in our documentation, Grant was still not familiar with any camera other than my iPhone. But Grandmama looks just lovely.

Back in the Saddle Again

When I was growing up, we had this obnoxiously wonderful song playing in the background frequently...

That's me.

"Back in the saddle again... toting my old '54..." (Well, not really. I don't think anyone wants me "toting" a gun of any kind. My general disposition does not inspire "gun trust.")

I'm slipping into the patterns of motherhood, slowly but surely. I am constantly amazed of my glaring imperfections at the advent of every new life adventure. When I was 6, I was pretty sure I'd be perfect at age 14. After all, my babysitter was perfect.

14 came and went... no perfection. Then my new "perfection" age was 17. Then 23. Then 27.

I'm 27 now. My next "perfection" age is 30. But my faith is beginning to wain. So, somewhere in my early 20s, I switched to new "perfection" milestones... probably, I'd be perfect when I finished my undergrad. Nope. Maybe after grad school I'd have my life more organized. Nope. Probably, after I got married, some magic maturity pill would be swallowed. I think my husband can attest to the fact that that has not happened.

Motherhood was my next "phase." Well... folks... I'm still me. Still sinful. Still not wanting to match socks. Still leaving coffee cups (half finished) all over the house.

In part, I'm very confused. All the mothers I knew, (especially my own), were practically perfect in every way.

But as I fumble my way through night feedings, packing diaper bags, and scrubbing formula out of baby's soggy onesie, I'm finding myself less and less bothered by my imperfections. Oh, don't get me wrong, I would love to be perfect. Absolutely love it.

But I'm learning that that's not where my happiness lies...

Oops, but that's another blog post.

For now, suffice to say the following... We are busy.

I'm working longer hours at work as we switch to a new system of electronic medical records. Scott is counseling, working, or serving almost every night of the week. And babykins is working hard at wooing every lady who takes care of him... He's very blessed to be able to spend 3 days a week with Oma Blake and 2 days with Miss Whitney.

I hate having our house on the market. Cleaning is no longer fun. We are planning on moving (where? we don't know for sure... but I will keep you apprised) at the end of Scott's seminary degree. His last day of contract at the church is June 30th. (81 days, but who's counting?)

Babykins is growing like a weed. We're shooting for 25% at his doctor's appointment next week. He's currently on super-expensive formula (Nutramigen) and people have be amazing about collecting coupons, and generously gifting us with cases of powdered baby gold. He's rolling over, cooing like crazy, and has started this adorable baby belly laughter that makes me so happy. Grant loves to be read to (please use silly voices), but his favorite activity is "talking." (I'd say he was meant for this family...) He loves looking at someone's face for minutes on end and watching you talk to him. He gets so excited about this that he starts wiggling like an upside-down cockroach. (Not flattering, but true.) He has also recently discovered his fingers. Apparently just one finger isn't enough for him...

Yes, he is wearing Calvin Klein. Designer duds for our stylin' boy.

And with that cuteness, I will leave you.

Rest assured, I will try to blog more frequently in the days ahead. It's very hard to string words together when you're existing on 5 hours of sleep and a 50-60 hour work week...

Stinky, Slimy Blessings

Grant has a horrible habit. Really awful. As soon as you slap a brand new, crisply dry diaper on his little tushie, and pop a nicely warmed bottle into his mouth, he starts making squishy faces, and his bottom starts making bubbly sounds. He is literally an in-one-end-out-the-other type of kiddie.

Baby Grantlet {1 month}

This morning, as I smeared another batch of Desitin on his little bottom (he's going to love this post when he's thirteen), I couldn't help getting teary eyed. My left shoulder was covered in slimy formula spit-up, my hair had been ripped out at the ends, and I found a tiny baby booger (again) on yet another article of clothing. I haven't slept well in almost 2 months, I clock my time based on bottle feedings, and I have never done so much laundry in my life.

And it is wonderful.

I'm a mommy! There are slimy, slobbery things everywhere, and I'm pretty sure that my house smells (and often looks) like a giant diaper pail, but I really don't care.

3 a.m. feedings, horribly putrid diapers, screaming sessions because he doesn't like his crib... it's all wonderful! I'm a mommy!

There were times in 2012, when I wasn't sure if I was ever going to have this job (which, after being Scott's wife, is the best job in the world). I had many teary devotions, nights in prayer, silent-quick moments of aching, in which I had to ask God, "Do I love YOU enough to be happy without babies?"

And the answer was, "yes." Not always, not constantly, not with great pious devotion, but in the real nitty-gritty, painful, pulling way that I've learned in this long walk. God showed me His daily tangible blessings and gave me such joy. Scott and I had several sober talks about what we would do if our year with the adoption agency ran out and no baby came.

But we didn't have to cross that bridge! God didn't make me fight that battle! I'm sitting, listening to my son grunt (they can tell you it's cooing... it's really grunting) in his little swing next to me. I had to battle for sanctification while I put a baby swing together this morning. I got to change diaper after diaper after diaper produced by my baby.

There are going to be lots of days in the future when I will want to scream and pull my hair out. There will be lunches when I groan and wipe up peanut butter again. There will be battles of the will, bath time breakdowns, embarrassing supermarket moments, and times when my child makes me want to hide in my own closet (which I probably will do).

But each one of those boring, stressful, labor-intensive, mundane days is extraordinary.

God has granted me (no pun intended!) years of stinky-ness, pain, embarrassment, and slimy bodily fluids.

And I wouldn't trade it for the world.