Bright Flower's Arrival

Announcing the birth of Kiran Jasmine Eyre on July 1 at 6:10 pm at the Ronald Reagan Medical Center at UCLA.

Kiran came 15 days early and surprised us all. Clarice started contractions at about 4 am on Tuesday morning, her last official day of work. We both promptly cleared our schedules and took advantage of a few hours to finish our mental and physical preparations. We arrived at the hospital at 4:40 pm, and Clarice got settled into a bed at 5 pm while the triage nurse was completing admission proceedings. Six minutes later she felt the urge to push and her water broke. At 6:10 pm, after only 20 minutes of hard pushing, Kiran squeezed into this world with a panicked cry and then settled into looking around and blinking. She is beautiful, perfectly formed, and has dark hair; more than Jackson had by one year of age. She has great grandma's nose, just like her brother, and much less of Daddy's pronounced cranium. She is even more mellow-tempered than Jackson was and makes little squirrel noises. Mom is doing exceptionally well due to a much shorter and easier labor and delivery than last time (less than half).

The family is all home together now. Jackson has been very tender with Kiran and surprisingly not jealous. He was very excited to give her the giraffe plush he bought her and was very excited to receive the surprise that Kiran "bought" for him (more train set additions).

Kiran means beam or ray of light and Jasmine is a fragrant flowering vine (we thank all of you who offered opinions about her name). Kiran's birth stats were: 7 lbs, 5 oz and 21 inches long. For comparison, Jackson was 6 lbs, 4 oz and 19.5 inches long at birth and he came ten days early.

We were so blessed to have our good friend Emily (mother of one of Jackson's best friends) present to document Kiran's arrival. Those pictures are posted at her website. More of our own pictures are posted at our family web gallery:

Thanks for your thoughts and prayers. We are exceedingly excited and grateful for God's provision and blessings.

Ian, Clarice, Jackson, and Kiran

Disappointment Over Answered Prayers

It's been quite a roller coaster week. Actually, the past three weeks were quite hectic. I had to clear the graduating dental students for graduation, write and grade a final exam, prepare a project for a Fellowship that I'm a part of, and try to be a good wife and mommy. And Ian had quite a few nights where he had meetings as well. So I started last week off a bit sleep deprived. Then Tuesday afternoon I supervised residents in the clinic and Wednesday I saw a record number of kids for checkups, cleanings, orthodontic adjustments, and fillings. I was beat.

By the time last Thursday rolled around, I was experiencing frequent mild contractions. Actually, they were a little more than mild. Wednesday night was a restless night of sleep as I kept awakening to contractions. I reported all this to my OB when I went to see him for my regular checkup. Since I was 4 weeks from our due date, he decided to do an exam to check on the status of my cervix (sorry all, there's just no better way of saying this than what it is). "Hmmm," he said, after completing his exam. That's never a good thing to hear from a doctor. He told me that the baby was still high and that I wasn't dilated at all, but that the cervix was very soft and that I was 50% effaced. He said he thought there would be a 0% chance of the baby coming in the following week, but a 50% chance the next week and a 75% chance the next. Then he asked me if I could stop working sooner so that I could get more rest.

All of that really worried me because I had read that babies weren't considered full term until they are 37 weeks. Plus, my parents were out of town at a family reunion and the new medical center, at which we were hoping to deliver, would not be open for another 10 days. I continued to have frequent contractions the next two days and noticed that my belly bump had shifted discernibly downward. I was starting to worry that Bright Flower would be coming early despite the 0% prediction - preterm, without my parents or Ian's parents in attendance, and in the old hospital. So I quickly emailed immediate family and the folks in our small group and asked that they pray that things would settle down and that Bright Flower would stay in at least until June 30, when my parents would be back and the new hospital would be open.

I started feeling much better a few days later. Less contractions, less pressure down there. But because I had sounded the alarms, my parents decided to fly back early from the reunion and Ian's parents started looking into earlier flights to Los Angeles. So I was a bit expectant when we went back to see my OB yesterday. Ian came along with me so we could ask questions, in case the OB told us to expect the little one to come in the next few days. But he did his exam and cheerily declared that things were progressing very nicely. He said that I was dilated just a little bit, consistent with my stage of pregnancy, and that the baby was still quite high, and that I was 25% effaced. He told me that he thought that there would be a 0% chance of the baby coming this week, but 50% the following week. He suggested that it might be two or three more weeks before we could expect to receive our new child. He predicted that she might be just slightly ahead of her due date. "Hmmm," I thought. That was a really different picture that what he gave me last week. So I thought I would double check with him. I told the OB that he had said I was 50% effaced the previous week and that he had said to expect the baby in 1-2 weeks. He looked at me with a baffled look on his face and questioned if that's what he really said.

I left the office feeling really disappointed. Not disappointed that Bright Flower would be staying in a bit longer. I was glad to have a bit more time to prepare for her arrival. I was just disappointed that he had given me information that caused me to sound the alarms, bringing my parents home from a trip earlier than expected, and causing quite a few people to be concerned. Then I started to wonder if it was my fault, if I had misunderstood or overreacted to the information I had received the week before. It took quite a while for me to consider that perhaps it wasn't an error on the part of my OB or an error on my part, but maybe, just maybe, God had answered prayer.

I don't know what it is. I tell myself that I believe in a God who answers prayers, yet when I ask, I really don't expect Him to answer, let alone answer in the way I requested. I still go about expecting and preparing for worst case scenarios. So this has been an important lesson, I think. I would like to try to pray expecting results and learning to recognize those results and rejoice when the answers come.

So now my parents are home and prepared to care for Jackson when Ian, Bright Flower, and I go into the hospital. This time I'm going to ask that God will bring Bright Flower sometime between July 5 and July 14, when my in-laws will be here. Since Jackson came too early for them to be here, I would love for them to be a part of welcoming Halina Kalina/Hester Sue/Fievel Honeysuckle/Helen Sharon Daphne Phoebe Heather into this world. I will wait expectantly for the answer...and rejoice at whatever the answer is.

Clarice

On naming Bright Flower

Way back when Jackson was just a little nugget, we polled our blog audience for potential opinions on his name. Basically, Jackson was named with strong paternal influence. Ian is Scottish for John. That derivative was chosen because his father is the third John in a row in his lineage. So Jackson is English for "son of John". Jackson's middle name is Timothy after my father. We figured it was fair to honor both of our fathers (and it sure made for less effort in picking out a middle name).

Since Bright Flower is a girl, we figured we could just follow the previous pattern and name her with maternal influences. My name, Clarice, is a French name meaning "clear" or "bright". In Chinese tradition, the meaning of a child's name is very important. It encapsulates what the parents dream of for their child. So we were thinking that we could pass the legacy on to Bright Flower, partially in honor of what my parents dreamed of for me, and partly because it is our earnest prayer that this child would indeed be bright and radiant, a light in the eyes of those who see her. Well, at least that's what we hope. So in studying the hundreds of names that mean "bright" or "radiant" or "brilliant" or "luminous" or "light", here are some of our options (mind you, listing them here doesn't necessarily mean we would consider them all):

Aileen/Eileen/Elaine/Elana/Elena
Candra/Chandra/Chantrea
Dana/Danica
Eleanor/Ellie/Ellen/Helen/Helena/Galina/Yelina/Jelena/Halina/Ilona
Fievel
Hester
Kiran/Kira/Kirana
Lane/Lainey
Leonore/liora
Mahina/Meira
Nora/Neriah
Phoebe
Roberta/Robin
Roxanne
Selena
Solana/Solange
Zia
Zora

For her middle name, we've got a great two-for-one deal. My mom's name is Pansy, like the flower, and Ian's mom's name is Ivy, like the vine. Even though we're calling her flower for her womb name, we want something with a floral or vernal theme. And we hope it encapsulates the idea of "fragrance", because it is our prayer that her life would be modeled after Jesus, a fragrant offering. So here are some options for a middle name:

Daphne
Flora/Forian
Heather
Holly
Jasmine
Kalina
Kiele
Laurel
Lian/Lianne
Lila
Poppy
Sage
Sharon
Violet
Willow

Interestingly, of all of the names listed above, 3 are names of cousins (Phoebe, Daphne, Sharon) and 2 represent aunts (Helen and Heather). So those might not make a final cut, lest our mothers think their influence has been usurped (but we still love those cousins and aunts!!).

So....let the voting begin.

Clarice

UPDATE:
I forgot to include Kellen/Kellyn and Sorcha in our list of first names.
And Ian reminded me of middle name options of Hyacinth and Honeysuckle (as if!!)

"Are they twins?"

This is a picture of most of the women in the small group Ian and I meet with through our church. We took this in January. From left to right, J was 1 week from delivering her first baby, E was 2 months from delivery, M was 4.5 months from delivery, I was 6 months from delivery, and C on the end is still awaiting her highly anticipated delivery date. So by the time Bright Flower arrives, she will be joining 3 other infants. And that's on top of the 3 toddlers we already have in the group. Yes, we're a really fruitful group of people.

We've really enjoyed building community with the other couples in our small group. We've been focusing mainly on looking into Christian literature or the Bible for guidance in building healthy marriages (and families). But a fun thing has been watching the 3 toddlers build friendships for the half of their lives that they've been interacting on a semi-regular basis. And, of course, there's a side benefit. When your kid has two little friends he likes, whose parents you like and trust, it makes babysitting exchanges pretty easy to come by.

In the months before baby #2 and #3 of our second round of progeny arrived, Ian and I babysat for each set of parents so they could have some "date nights" before their infants came. Because the tots tend to tear up the house when we keep them at our home, we started taking them out to the Grove for dinner and a chance to see the fountain, the trolley, the live music... The thing that we have found to be endearingly funny is that more than once, with each of the two little girls we've babysat, passers-by have asked "Are they twins?" Each time, they've justified the question with a comment on how well the kids get along. I guess the ethnic differences aren't that obvious.

Here's Jackson with his twin, Alaina




And with his other twin, Harper




Pretty cute, aren't they?

Clarice

Ian's Father's Day "Card"

For Ian's second Father's Day, Jackson and I decided to dispense with the idea of a tangible present. Instead, we made a video greeting card.



I think Daddy enjoyed his card, along with his 2 hour afternoon nap.

Clarice

"I'll love you forever!"

I had to administer a final exam yesterday. Students had 1 hour and 50 minutes to complete a 71 question multiple-choice exam. At 15 minutes to the end of the exam time, there was just one student left in the room, struggling to respond to my erudite questions. All of a sudden, a student came running in, looking as frazzled as could be. She started off by apologizing profusely, saying that although she had set her alarm early enough to make the 8:00 AM start time, she just woke up. She said she hadn't even brushed her teeth yet, which is a serious issue to a dental student. Then she begged me to let her take the final exam. "If you let me take it," she exclaimed, "I'll love you forever". Those were the words I had been waiting to hear my entire academic career. I was so moved by her declaration that I made an exception in the usual academic proceedings to allow her to take her exam late.

Just kidding.

When I heard those words, I was a bit taken aback. I replied something like "I don't know if that's the issue" or "that's not really what I'm looking for here". I don't remember what I said. I just remember being surprised. I mean, give me some justification or tell me that you want the opportunity to demonstrate what you've learned or tell me that an event like this is not consistent with how you intend to practice professionally. But "I'll love you forever"? Why should that matter when the issue has nothing to do with our (heretofore nonexistent, except in a 1:100 ratio) relationship and everything to do with the requirement that students demonstrate that they have learned.

There's something different about this generation of students. I don't quite get it. As much as I love idea of being involved in the process of equipping people to be in positions of influence (yes, dentists are people of influence), I don't know if that's really what I'm doing. Quite frustrating at times.

OK. Venting over. Now it's time to finish grading assignments from that class. Until later....

Clarice

Growing up with Cousins

Jackson has a little cousin who is 3 months older than he is. This is Jackson and Kaitlyn last July when they were 17 and 20 months.


Unfortunately, since they live in Florida, we only get to see them about twice a year if we're lucky (blessed) enough. It's been a bit sad to be so far from his closest cousins. Because I have a large extended family, Jackson has tons of second cousins and third cousins and kids we consider family although no blood ties are involved at all. And of course, he has dog cousins also. So he hasn't been deprived of the kind of huge family events I had growing up with my 23 first cousins and innumerable second cousins. But we're sad we don't get to see Jackson grow up alongside Ian's brother's kids.

But Bright Flower will have a local cousin to grow up with. My brother and sister-in-law are expecting their first child 6 weeks after Bright Flower is due. They live about a mile from us so theoretically we should be able to see them more often than we do the other cousins. Of course, they're planning to move around the time the baby is born. Something about LA not being a great place to raise a kid (as if the OC is going to be that much better!!).

It's been fun going through pregnancy with my sister-in-law. I didn't get this experience with my other sister-in-law when she was expecting Kaitlyn. We didn't know we were pregnant when our families got together when Becky was 4 months pregnant and baby cousin Kaitlyn was 6 weeks old the next time we saw them when I was 7 months pregnant.

But Amy and I have been able to do some side by side comparisons. Here's some footage of our belly profile comparisons (and some bonus footage of Jackson shot on Mother's Day).



Clarice

all-you-can-eat seafood buffet

Today the family went to Todai to celebrate Jackson's grandfather Gung-Gung's birthday, pictured here with Clarice and Tai-Poh.Here's a candid of Uncle Randy and Aunt Amy racing through a pile of crab legs before Jackson notices.And here is Jackson with his grandmother Poh-Poh taking time out to look at the camera but not to stop eating those yummy mushrooms. Jackson loves shrimp and "crabbie-crabbie" ever since Gung-Gung shared Alaskan King Crab legs with him at Christmas. What was he thinking? He's only two and eats like a king. While Jackson did not finish everything on that plate, he did devour a whole plate of fruit until his belly button actually popped out a bit and we had to cut him off. Then he ran about half a mile (literally 2500 feet) inside the restaurant and visited with many customers. We love all-you-can-eat Todai.

Jackson's Inventiveness

Jackson has a unique, creative, fresh view of the world and he expresses it in fun ways with his limited vocabulary and understanding of grammar. For instance, he has recently started making words plural even if they are already plural. When he wants mommy to sing him to sleep he calls out; "I want songses."

Pictured is Jackson's latest creation: "I made a taxi."

And my favorite is when he wanted more Parmesan Cheese on his spaghetti: "I want more cheese waterfall."

Ian

Peek-a-boo

Children go through phases of learning and one of them, I've heard, involves the understanding that when an object can't be seen, it's not necessarily gone. Hence the game of peek-a-boo helps kids learn object permanence; that when he covers his eyes, the playmate within eyesight did not disappear, but the vision was blocked by the hands.

A few weeks ago Jackson and I went to a pool party and I was diving and flipping into the water. Each time I would swim immediately for the surface and look to Jackson to see if he was impressed by my gymnastics move. However, Jackson's reaction was not what I expected. He would cry every time I jumped in the water. Apparently, Jackson didn't like seeing his daddy disappear under the water.

A couple weeks ago I went bungee jumping with some friends at the Bridge to Nowhere (bungeeamerica.com). Last week in Atlanta, I was showing my family the video we shot. Jackson was enjoying the video until I dove off the bridge toward the water 150' below. Suddenly, Jackson burst into tears event though I was right next to him and holding him. Apparently, Jackson doesn't like his daddy doing stunts.

I'm glad my boy doesn't want his daddy to disappear or fall off bridges. But I'm going to wait a few more years before showing Jackson my stunt reel.

Ian

Canadian-American

Today I passed the U.S. Citizenship test and was approved to become an American. If you didn't know, I was born in Toronto. I've always considered myself a North American. Canada is part of America, right? So after my TBD future swearing in ceremony, I will officially become a Canadian-American. Oh, I also have my Irish passport, so that will make me an Canadian-Irish-American.

However, part of the Oath of Citizenship that I will take contains these words; "I hereby declare, on oath, that I absolutely and entirely renounce and abjure all allegiance and fidelity to any foreign prince, potentate, state, or sovereignty of whom or which I have heretofore been a subject or citizen." In the words of the DAR (Daughters of the American Revolution) Manual for Citizenship; "If you take this oath in true faith you are a true citizen of the United States of America. You are not an Italian-American. You are not a Spanish-American. You are not a German-American, nor any other kind of a hyphenated American. YOU ARE AN AMERICAN. There is no prouder title than 'Citizen of the United States of America.' It is now yours. YOU ARE AN AMERICAN."

Going through the naturalization process reminded me why this country is the best country in the world. As President George W. Bush says in the welcome video, "America has never been united by blood or birth or soil. We are bound by ideals that move us beyond our backgrounds, lift us above our interests and teach us what it means to be citizens. Every child must be taught these principles. Every citizen must uphold them. And every immigrant, by embracing these ideals, makes our country more, not less, American."

I'm almost there...a true American. I look forward to my increased privileges and duties. But, I'll always have fond feelings for Canada and Ireland.

Ian

Outed at 28 weeks

Among the things I had heard about second pregnancies was the idea that I should get bigger faster than the first. I was fully expecting to be huge really early, but it didn't really happen. For the first few months I was pretty much on the same weight gain curve that I was with Jackson. That meant I didn't really start showing until about the fifth month of pregnancy. People who knew could tell that I was showing, but there were certainly plenty of people who I didn't know well enough to include in my news-breaking circle. I'd catch these folks stealing furtive glances at my belly and then avoiding eye contact because they didn't want to have to ask if I was pregnant and be caught in an embarrassing error. But I can say that it was at 28 weeks when I grew to a size to be clearly pregnant.

See, I meet with a group of 6 other faculty members every other week. We've been meeting since September, as part of a Medical Education Fellowship. In the beginning, I didn't tell them that I was pregnant mainly because I didn't feel like we ever had an appropriate moment to announce something like that without sounding self-aggrandizing. And then at about the point that a room full of doctors should have recognized that certain anatomical changes were taking place, I decided to just see how long it took them to notice. Finally, at 28 weeks of pregnancy, when I clearly no longer fit into normal clothes, and strangers would walk up to me and rub my belly, one of my colleagues smiled broadly at me in class and asked when I was due. It was kind of funny to hear the other two women exclaim, "I thought it might look like you were pregnant, but I didn't want to say anything." And even funnier to hear the one guy (whose wife just delivered their first baby) say, "Oh. I really don't know how I didn't notice".

Altogether, it's been an interesting sociocultural experience to see how people respond to my growing belly. By the way, I am now growing bigger faster than I did with Jackson. I think my last two weeks of weight gain put me a few weeks from where I was when I delivered Jackson. I can't believe I still have 9 more weeks to grow. When this one comes, I'm going to look like a python after swallowing a small animal.


Clarice

My Grandma

My grandma celebrated her 95th birthday in February. She's quite an amazing woman with fascinating stories. She was born in China, and chose to leave her Buddhist traditions to follow Jesus as a youngster despite the vehement disapproval of her family. She fled to Hong Kong when the Communists came, just a few days after delivering her first child, my father. She worked as a teacher (Bruce Lee was one of her students) and elementary school principal when few women held full-time jobs. She sent all four sons to the US to study, then uprooted herself at the age of 59 when my grandfather decided to join the sons (and the first grandson) in the US. She learned English, learned how to navigate public transportation in Los Angeles, then in New York. But what's really remarkable is her selflessness. She always thinks of others, to the point where it's almost annoying. She has endeared herself to her 7 grandchildren with her good humor. Here's a picture of her 10 years ago (at 85), good-naturedly letting her two grandsons play dress up with her.


I admire her longevity, clear-mindedness, humility, and good humor. But last week, I was caught entirely by surprise by her adaptability. My aunt told me that she was learning to use email (at 95!). So I sent her an email to see what would happen. Here's her reply to my invitation to a Mother's Day dinner.


Of course, I can only read my name, a few words like "you" and "I" and "thank you", but I'll probably email her again just for the novelty of receiving an email from my grandma. Ain't she something?

Clarice

Look who's learning to use the potty

Ian's latest job

Remember this show from the 70's?



And remember these guys?



This is the modern day update as reported by USA Today.


Yep, that's Ian's work outfit. I wonder what casual Fridays will look like.

Clarice

Come down and play

We recently moved Jackson to a "big boy bed". We thought it would be wise to make the crib available for Bright Flower significantly in advance of when she needed it so that Jackson wouldn't have issues about his sister invading his space. We actually set it up the bed about two weeks in advance of when we intended to start using it. We wanted him to get used to seeing it in his room. Plus, it gave us two weeks to talk up how since he had his happy birthday he was now a "big boy" and should have a big boy bed. It turns out we didn't need to talk it up. He was dying to sleep in his new bed (somehow he knew it was for him the day we set it up).


Moving him to a "big boy" bed (with no restraints to getting out independently) meant some changes in our nighttime routine. We used to sit on the floor with him in one of our laps after his bath and pajama change and read him a book. Then we would have him turn on the hall light and turn off his room light and we would hold him for his nighttime prayers before putting him in his crib. The new bed changed all that. We realized that he needed some time in his bed before turning the lights out. So now, after changing into pajamas, we turn on a dim bedside light, have him climb into his bed himself and read him his bedtime story while he sits in his bed. It was Ian's idea to have him then kneel on the side of his bed for nighttime prayers before turning off the lights and tucking him back into bed. As soon as the lights are out, we remind him of the "sleeping rules" - stay in your bed, close your eyes, be quiet, and go to sleep. We especially remind him of the need to stay in his bed. When we first switched to the toddler bed, we had decided on a three strikes and you're out policy. If he comes out, we quickly return him to his bed. But if he comes out a third time, he goes back to his "baby" bed. We've only had to return him to his crib twice. Now he gets the idea after one warning.

So we were so surprised a few days ago when, after reading his book, he pointed to the floor and said "come down and play". He was actually bold enough to start moving to the side of the bed before we reminded him of the sleeping rules. The next night, he tried again, "come down and play, daddy, come down and play, mommy". Again, we sternly reminded him of the sleeping rules and kept to our routine. It happened again last night. This time Ian was only half-way through his bedtime book when Jackson closed it and said "All done. Come down and play." He pointed to the floor and started moving to the side of the bed. We reminded him that he was supposed to stay in his bed and he said, "I wanna play. Play." Then he put his hands together and said "Dear Got." We finally realized that he wasn't asking to come down and play. He was asking to come down and pray. Warmed the cockles of our hearts. Now we just have to hope that Jackson grows out of his Chinese accent before he hits public school.

Clarice

Oh Jesus!

A couple of months ago, Jackson and I were driving home and I heard him exclaim, "Oh Jesus!" I wasn't sure what he was trying to communicate. He said it so explosively I was kind of wondering if he had heard someone else using the Lord's name in vain and was just copying them. I asked him why he said "Oh Jesus," but he really didn't have a cogent explanation for me.

Then a few days later, we were driving home again and I heard him shout it again. "Oh! Jesus! Jesus!" This time I looked back to see him gazing out the window and pointing. I personally didn't see any hint of Jesus, but I remembered hearing that little children sometimes had a heightened spiritual awareness. I started wondering if my boy had been seeing visions of the risen Christ that I was missing out on because of my jaded sensibilities. That led to dreaming of what kind of prophetic gifts Jackson might have that would impact the world. So I thought I would be like Mary, mother of Jesus, and "treasure up all these things and ponder them in my heart." When we got home, I told Ian what had happened, that twice we had been driving and Jackson shouted out "Oh Jesus!" He had a bemused look on his face and said that it had happened when he was driving with Jackson also. Then he asked me if it occurred on San Vicente just past Wilshire. Why, yes, that's exactly where we were both times it occurred. Hmm, we both wondered.

A few days later, I came home after Ian had picked up Jackson. He had a huge grin on his face. He told me that he had figured out why Jackson had been shouting out about Jesus. It turns out there is a statue on the side of the street that neither of us had noticed. And to be quite honest, the statue looks quite a bit like the Jesus we see in the Bible picture books that we have been reading to Jackson at night.


Apparently, even a green man with a beard and longish hair can pass for Jesus in toddler world.

Clarice

New Haircut

Jackson's hair has been really, really slow to grow. He didn't have his first haircut until he was 14 months old. And that was just two little snips of the bilateral locks that were making him look a little bit like a Hassidic Jew (except for the part where he doesn't look Jewish at all). The next two haircuts were spaced 5 months apart and only took place because the hair on the back of his head would be nappy and tangled in the morning when he woke up. So for the past month, we'd been contemplating doing the Chinese thing. In China, they crop the hair of the little kiddies (even the little girls) so that they're cooler in the summer, but also to stimulate new hair growth. And some midwesterners we know follow the Farmer's Almanac to determine periods of time when haircuts will also accelerate new hair growth (hey there, Bob and Lis!!).

It turned out to be an easy haircut. We just got out the clippers, put in the number 3 guard and buzzed away. Of course, I did the pediatric dentist "tell-show-do" thing. I told him about the clippers. I showed him how tickly it was on his arm. And then I did it. And of course, we planned other distractions. He was sitting on his potty chair in front of a mirror, set up with his favorite book set (from great-Aunt Linda, thank you!!). He still cried most of the time I was cutting. It's all documented on miniDV, courtesy of his documentarian daddy. But when I was all done, he agreed with me that he looked very "han-sum".

Nesting

I had heard about nesting when I was pregnant with Jackson. One website I visited defines it as "an uncontrollable urge to clean one's house brought on by a desire to prepare a nest for the new baby, to tie up loose ends of old projects and to organize your world". I don't recall experiencing that at all when I was pregnant with Jackson. But then again, I was focusing on tying up loose ends at work so that I could be home for 3 months.

But Monday, the nesting instinct hit hard. I had brought home lots of work to do once Jackson fell asleep, since Ian was working that night. I had grades to enter for last quarter, a new quarter to plan for, a homework assignment for a class I'm taking. But none of that mattered that night. We had bought a new "big boy bed" for Jackson and I was bound and determined to rearrange his room to accommodate the new bed. As soon as we got home, I spent an hour sweeping and dusting his room. Then I threw together a not-too-nutritious but quick meal for us, bathed him, and tried to get him to join me in rearranging his furniture (not too successful). I was so determined to finish the task that night that I kept working after his lights out, using the dim glow of the hallway light to illuminate my work. He managed to fall asleep an hour later than normal as I worked around him. And finally, after four hours of toil, I was satisfied.

It was a rather alarming feeling. I really couldn't think of anything else but finishing up his room. Nothing could deter me...not dinner or even his bedtime. Whatever I've read about nesting indicates that it's an instinct. And, wow, what a powerful one. At least by Tuesday, I finally felt ready to return to my required work....although I never finished that homework assignment.

Anyone else have any crazy nesting stories?

Clarice

Boogers

We are realizing that we can track Jackson's developmental milestones (and social awareness) through his response to boogers.

For his first year and a half of life, he was pretty clueless about the presence of nasal emissions of any sort. Case in point, this video clip from when he was 17 months old:



Then around 20 months of age, he suddenly became aware of his boogers...especially the runnier variety. If he sneezed out an abundance of snot, he would cry. But he wouldn't do anything about it. Well, that's not true. Occasionally, he'd unintentionally smear it all over his hands and face. Or he would burrow into our shoulders, leaving some interesting remnants on our clothing (the mark of parenthood...at least it's not spitup any more).

Then around the 22 month mark, he started showing some initiative at taking care of snot, at least. If he sneezed, he would say "Iwan kleenex. Iwan tissue. Iwan blow de nose." And we'd know to help him wipe off the offending fluid.

Now at 25 months, he's officially entered into familiar toddler realm. He can clearly discern between the wet stuff and the dry stuff. The other day, as we were driving, I noticed a prolonged break in his normal commentary about the same sights we see every day on the way home. He was clearly concentrating on something. Then he piped up from his carseat in back, "Mommy, look! A booger!" He held out his finger for me to see (you wouldn't believe how large some of these things can get, coming from such small individuals). I asked him if he needed a tissue and started scrounging around the car for a scrap of paper while trying to navigate the streets of Beverly Hills. Then I heard his triumphal declaration, "I eat it!!" Sure enough, his finger was clean as a whistle. Well, I guess that's better than having it inadvertently wiped on me.

Clarice

Easter in the Holy Land

I recently got hired on a movie that was shooting in Jordan. That's right, the middle east. When I realized I was going to be away from home for Easter, my initial thought was "how inconvenient."

That's until I realized that Jordan is home to many locations in the Holy Land. The Israelites traveled from Egypt to the Promised Land through Jordan. Jesus was baptized in Jordan.

Suddenly, the reality of spending Easter in the Holy Land hit me. How cool is that?! And even better, there were a handful of Christ-followers on the crew and "lo and behold"an ancient Olive grove just below our hotel in Petra.

So, five of us had an awesome church experience reading through the four Gospel accounts of Easter and marveling at God's work throughout history. Where two or more are gathered in His Name, God the Holy Spirit is there with us. It was a really awesome experience.

God is good. All the time. He is risen indeed!
Ian

P.S. Check back soon for a picture of us in the Olive grove.

He's Risen Indeed!

It's Easter today. Well, actually, it's almost over, but I still want to commemorate the event. I blogged a few weeks ago about how I usually like to try to prepare my heart and mind to celebrate Easter because I think it's such a significant event. To be quite honest, I ended giving up on my fast. It wasn't realistic because it actually put a burden on Ian for me to keep an 11:00 PM bedtime. I think next year I'll have to pick something more realistic that will come with more consistent reminders of the meaning of sacrifice (but we're going to try for an 11:00 PM bedtime anyway just as a good habit). At any rate, I had a hard time focusing on the arrival of Easter this year. Maybe it was because it came earlier in the year than it usually does or maybe it was because Ian and I have been alternating being either really busy or really sick.

So Good Friday came and went and I didn't really think much about it. But on Saturday afternoon I read a post by my dear friend Faetryn and remembered beyond Easter. Her post reminded me that on that fateful Friday, there was pain and suffering. I had been thinking a bit about the brutality of the punishments of those days. See, Ian is working on a movie that involves the stoning of an individual. He'd been telling me about the emotional impact and the brutality of just pretending or making it seem like the punishment is real for the sake of a movie. And the reality of Christ's suffering started to sink in.

Thus I went to church this morning for Easter Sunday thinking about the reality of Jesus' pain and suffering on our behalf. But our site pastor, Goodie, spoke on "Beauty." I missed the complete content of the message because there wasn't child care for the service I attended and Jackson isn't so good at sitting still or keeping quiet, keeping me on my toes the entire message. But I saw the video I've posted below (because Jackson loves "TV" and watched as intently as I did). The piece was accompanied by a live string ensemble and followed by a live dance piece. And it spoke to me, as it has every time I've seen it. It reminded me of the love that Jesus' sacrifice demonstrated and the beauty it embodied. I guess that's why I'm not so into the crucifixes that have Jesus hanging on them. I much prefer the simple cross adornment. Because, sure, Jesus suffered and died to pay the penalty for humankind's penchant for making the destructive choices that separate us from a perfect and holy God. But He didn't stay dead, so I don't want to just focus on that. He rose to life on the third day, demonstrating His power over sin AND death, offering us the opportunity to reconcile with Him...and to live beautiful lives.

He is risen indeed!



Clarice

A really, really good day

February and most of March were really, really hard. For some reason, our budget broke down and we had to tap deeply into our emergency savings fund. I had a ton of work deadlines that came with some seriously high expectations. The workload was bad enough that I dragged my computer along with me on our anniversary trip. I spent most of the drive and the first few hours in the hotel working on one of my projects so that we could enjoy the rest of our weekend without interruption. And for whatever reason during that busy period, Ian had activities several nights a week that left me alone with Jackson's night-time routine (and, of course, no time to work). Then when my deadlines were mostly met, Ian got super busy. He went into pre-production on two different short films, one of which took him out of town the day after I came down with a wicked illness that took me out of work for a few days due to fever, chills, body aches. Being alone with Jackson for two days meant I gave him whatever I had, which was multiplied to four days of fever, restless nights, loss of appetite, and diarrhea. In the midst of all that, Ian started to think that a big job that was supposed to come through in April wasn't going to happen AND he got called to go to Jordan (as in the Middle East) with two days notice for a really great work opportunity (that would keep him there for two and a half weeks).

So here I was a couple of Mondays ago, pregnant (with occasional lingering bouts of nausea), sleep-deprived from pushing toward work-deadlines, post-flu, caring for a mid-flu toddler (who can't go to daycare), thinking about sending my husband away for two and a half weeks. I was thinking that it was a really, really bad time of life. And I prayed for some type of divine intervention. Then Tuesday morning came. I had taken Jackson to class with me since he still had a fever and couldn't go to daycare. He was sitting there talking REALLY loudly while my students were trying to make their end of the quarter final presentations. Ian walked in to pick up Jackson. He had a big grin on his face. He told me that his two and a half week trip to Jordan had been postponed for a week (and shortened) and that the job he thought he had lost was now confirmed to start after he was scheduled to return from Jordan. Suddenly, I was thinking that it was a really, really good day. A little grace - a job that will probably pay quite well for Ian (with what sounds like a reasonable schedule). A little mercy - the postponement and shortening of his out of town gig. Amazing what the two combined can do to your spirit. Oh, and then that evening I got an email from a colleague praising one of the projects I had been working on. Grace upon grace.

Things have still been quite hectic. But all I needed was one day with a little grace and a little mercy just to change my perspective on things. And so the days since then haven't necessarily been really, really good, but they sure haven't felt as bad as I might have thought without a reminder that God is gracious and merciful and certainly willing to intervene.

Clarice

Exposure (and link madness)

Last week I was browsing one of my favorite websites, Townhall.com, on one of my daily visits to stimulate my thinking. If you're not familiar, this site features some of the smartest minds and sharpest writers on politics and culture. I usually don't pay much attention to the ads, but something familiar caught my eye. It was the ad to the left. I was tickled to see it. Here I am at one of my favorite websites - one that has national readership (my sister-in-law in Atlanta is a regular visitor also) - and this ad pops up. It's a DVD featuring 3 different short films made by my church. Each has a commentary by my pastor, Erwin McManus. One short film was directed a friend I used to be in small group with, who filmed the video showed at our wedding. Click here. One short film was produced by my old roommate, who was my maid of honor at our wedding. Click here. And the third was produced by my husband. Click here and here.

National exposure! Yeah!! Check it out!

Clarice

Lenten Letdown

I really didn't grow up with a whole lot of religious ceremonies (sacraments?). The church I grew up in pretty much stuck only to baptism and the Lord's Supper or communion as significant sacraments. In early 2001 I started living in an amazing community with 3 other women (an experience I keep meaning to blog about). One or two of these women grew up (or perhaps adopted in adulthood) observing some type of fast over the Lenten period between Mardi Gras/Ash Wednesday and Easter. I don't remember paying much attention to the fast the first year. Like I said, I didn't grow up with an emphasis on religious traditions. But they approached it in such a low key and earnest way. By year two or three, I think all 4 of us usually made commitments to fast from something. It just seemed like a great idea. I love Easter. Christmas is special, but it often gets buried in the trappings of commercialism. I mean, it is an amazing holiday - the celebration of the fact that the Creator of the universe left the glory of heaven, came to earth in the form of an infant, and tolerated life on this earth as a human for 33 years. That's pretty amazing. But Easter really gets me. For Jesus to willingly endure the pain and suffering and shame of crucifixion out of a love for mankind...that's really something. And then to demonstrate the authority to reconcile man's broken relationship with God through death by rising to life on the third day...whew!

As long as I have been calling myself a follower of Jesus, I've been trying to prepare myself to earnestly and reverentially remember Easter. And so the idea inspired by my roommates to fast for 40 days to prepare for Easter was appealing. What better way of trying to remind myself of Jesus' sacrifice than giving up something my body or mind craves. I mean, it wasn't ever so dramatic as giving up food and water or...life. It was usually much simpler. I can't remember exactly what I've given up over the years, but I think once it was alcohol (that was pretty easy), once it was all caffeine products AND soda (that was much harder), another time it was gossip or criticism (very hard), another time it was giving up reading any type of blogs (can you tell what I crave sometimes?). It was always hardest in the beginning, but very beneficial in reminding me that I wanted to spend some time focusing on Jesus. But by the end of the fasting period, I felt like I not only had a chance to focus on sacrifice, but I had a better control on my cravings.

So this year, after a brief break from celebrating Lent, I decided to reinstate my 40 day fast. I chose a very unconventional fast. I gave up late nights. Meaning, I committed to being in bed by 11:00 PM. Perhaps it seems like an easy thing to many people, but I am a SERIOUS night owl. If I had my druthers, the work day would be 10 AM to 6 PM and I would sleep from 1 or 2 AM to 8 or 9 AM. My mind is just sharpest around 10 PM (with an earlier burst of productivity at the end of the workday from 4-6 PM). So being in bed by 11 PM is quite a challenge, even with a kid who wakes up bright and cheery at 7 AM. And let me tell you, it's been the worst fast I've ever tried to commit to. In the 4 weeks since Ash Wednesday, I've only made my goal around 5 times. Honestly, I just gave up the past week. I'm kinda all of all-or-nothing. If I can't nail close to 100%, why bother.

But I'm thinking of starting all over again. I've realized that the failure to stick to this fast reveals something about myself. I'm just not willing to make the lifestyle changes to adopt an early bedtime. My body and mind crave the college student schedule, but really, my family and my work commitments (and the daycare schedule) demand that I give it up. And it's not like I'm up late being productive. Here it is T minus 38 minutes and I still have a bit of work I should do, plus fold the two loads of laundry that my husband graciously started before I got home from work, plus get ready for bed, plus try to spend a bit of time focusing on some Scripture... Ain't going to happen. I'd rather blog or read blogs or do something really non-urgent like try to figure out what to name our next kid or decide on what video clip I should post to YouTube. These things just don't have to be done now.

So I think I'm going to start again. Maybe tomorrow, exactly 4 weeks after Ash Wednesday. Or maybe the next day. I guess I have to check with Ian, since this impacts him. At any rate, I know without a doubt that I need to make some sacrifices in the way I would prefer to spend my time to prioritize the people and the One I should be most committed to.

Clarice

Jackson's First Sporting Event

Ian got some free tickets to a Clipper game last Wednesday. I had never been to a professional basketball game (nor football, nor hockey, although I've seen professional soccer and baseball - Angels, Dodgers, AND Red Sox). We thought it might be a fun thing to try for the first time. We tried to think of some babysitting options for Jackson, but then it was Monday and we hadn't planned anything yet. So we figured, hey, kids under the age of 3 are free; we should just bring him (note the use of the now-obscure semi-colon). So we got to the Staples Center a bit early and before ascending to our seats in the nosebleed section, we bought some huge hot dogs to eat for dinner (don't tell my OB/GYN I consumed nitrates). Jackson loves hot dogs ("I like hot doggies").

It turned out that Jackson had the most fun of the three of us. For the first half of the first quarter (would that be the first eighth?) he couldn't even pay attention to his beloved hot dog. He was having such a fun time cheering when the other fans would cheer and clapping along to the incessant music that was playing (thankfully not on the organ the whole time). We don't think he had any clue about what was going on miles away down on the court, but he sure sensed the excitement in the arena. Once he had enough of the music and the cheering, he started watching the two boys seated behind us. They looked to be about 8 or 9. Jackson kept on waving to them and saying "Hi, little boys". He started copying what they were doing. Fortunately, he had finished his hot dog by this time.

Then for the second quarter, he discovered the stairs up the arena. He kept climbing up and down and saying "hi" to all the people he encountered. He made quite a few acquaintances.

But then he got bored and it was getting close to his bedtime, so we left at the beginning of the second half. I have no idea what happened in the game. I think the Clippers were playing the Memphis Grizzlies (are there grizzlies in Memphis?). I think I saw a couple of 3-pointers and a few steals and one really cool fake-out lay-up. But most of the time, I just enjoyed watching Jackson enjoy his new experience. It will be great when he actually understands what's happening down on the court (or field or diamond). Now I just have to find out who actually won the game we were supposed to see while we were watching Jackson.

Clarice

Update on Bright Flower

A few weeks ago, we blogged about the outcome of one of our prenatal test results. There was an indication of a higher than acceptable possibility that Bright Flower might have a chromosomal abnormality. It was rather alarming considering the huge difference between the estimated risk factor of our test and the norm. But over the past few weeks, we have been confidant that our Creator knows what's best for our family, and we have been optimistic that the baby would be okay (99.3% is pretty good).

So on Tuesday, we had an ultrasound. The doctor ordered one a bit earlier than normal because he wanted to know if there were any signs of the "stigmata" associated with the two chromosomal abnormalities in which we tested high. The ultrasound technician looked at everything that might be affected by the disorder. She found normal heart, abdominal wall, limbs, digits, cranial vault, palate and lip (which I was worried about), ears. Everything checked out. I don't think I realized how anxious I was until I realized how relieved I was to hear a good report from the technician. We know there's always a possibility that something else might happen along the way, but for now, we are so thankful for this report. And we thank you for your encouragement, support, and prayers.

Oh, I almost forgot. The ultrasound technician also took a visual tour of the...uh...gender-defining area of Bright Flower. What she said indicated that Bright Flower won't have to change her womb name. She's a she!!

Here she is in all her prenatal glory!

Little Performer

We're starting to realize just what a little performer our boy can be. Jackson has a few pairs of pants that don't fit too well. This is his loosest pair.


So when I went to pick him up from daycare the last time he wore these pants, his teacher had a story to tell me. She told me that during circle time they were singing "Five Little Monkeys", but instead of singing "monkeys", they were substituting the names of each child and having them jump up and down. When it was Jackson's turn they started singing "five little Jacksons, jumping on the bed..." Well as Jackson was jumping up and down his pants started falling down. The teacher said that the rest of the kids started laughing when they saw that. So Jackson stopped for a moment, enjoying the laughter, then started jumping up and down even faster until his pants reached his ankles. I wonder which of his parents Jackson got the performing bug from....

And if you needed more evidence of his ken for performing, here's a little clip of Jackson performing portions of his favorite songs for the camera.



And the tricks that earn the affections of our friends, his repertoire of facial expressions.



More little clips can be found on our newly started family YouTube site

Clarice

Banking on the 97.5%

I got a rather alarming phone call from my Obstetrician a few weeks ago. I knew it was rather important because he left messages at our home twice on a Saturday, then left one on my cell phone. We played a bit of phone tag on Saturday night, then I was left wondering. When you're expecting a child at my age (it's a big number I won't publicly claim, but if you broke it down into prime numbers it would be a multiple of 2's and 5's, but not too many 5's) you prepare yourself for the possibility that your child's health and/or development might be compromised. So Saturday night I pondered things and morbidly hoped that my obstetrician was actually calling because one of his kids, who are my pediatric dental patients, had some kind of dental emergency that he needed advice on.

Sunday morning Jackson was sick, so I stayed home from church with him. That's when my OB got through on my cell phone. He told me that one of my blood tests showed some abnormalities. I had just given up a few drops of blood for the first trimester screening, in which they measure protein levels that are markers for chromosomal abnormalities in the baby. He told me that the markers for Down syndrome were well within normal limits, but that another marker, which is correlated with Trisomies 13 & 18 (meaning an extra copy of either of those chromosomes) was in the unacceptable range. He told me that the normal incidence of either of these abnormalities was usually 1 in 20,000, but that my protein levels were elevated, lowering the risk factor to 1 in 39. When he said that, I felt a shock pass through me. I know a bit about various pediatric syndromes, being in the business of caring for children. I remembered that both of these syndromes had a high mortality rate, with most infants dying within the first few months of life. He kept talking about something else that did not register because I was processing my thoughts. Strangely, I remember feeling a bit of peace. Honestly, I was thinking that I was glad it was a syndrome in which our child might not have to live too long with disability. I was thinking that Ian and I might have it in us to love our little one for a short time before letting him/her go. I was thinking that it might be easier than a syndrome that would affect our child for a normal lifespan.

Then my OB's voice faded back in again. See I was thinking that going from 1 in 20,000 to 1 in 39 meant it was almost a done deal. But he broke it down into percentage risk. The percentage risk was 2.5%. And my spirits lifted. That meant that there was a 97.5% chance that Bright Flower would be okay after all. It was still hard telling Ian what the OB had told me. To learn more, we looked on the internet. The National Institutes of Health website had some good objective information about both syndromes, none of it looking very promising. We also ended up looking at two websites that were support groups for families of children with these abnormalities. The sites were most likely sponsored by Christian families who had decided not to terminate their pregnancies, instead talking about the joy they experienced in the short time they had with their babies before they died. Their stories were quite inspiring and exceedingly moving. I had to quit looking at those sites pretty quickly.

Getting this news has been rather life-changing, to say the least. We've been moved to more fervent prayer for our unborn child and have learned to be proactive in asking for the prayers of trusted friends. And we've had to recommit ourselves to our theoretical convictions about the value of life, now that reality has entered our lives. We've come to the realization that we really don't have much control over a lot of the circumstances of our lives. And we've had to confirm our convictions that it's not up to us to decide when someone else's life should end.

So this is where Ian and I have been the past few weeks, banking on the 97.5% chance that everything will be okay. During that first call from my OB, we were encouraged to see a genetic counselor. Ian and I decided that even though we didn't have any intention of terminating this pregnancy, it might be worth it to learn as much as we could so that we would be prepared for whatever might come. So on Friday we visited the counselor. She had accessed my lab results and asked if we wanted to go over them again, even though my OB had already talked about it. I figured it wouldn't hurt, since Ian didn't get to hear the direct conversation with my OB. So she started from the beginning of the report, confirming the low risk of Down syndrome and the elevated risk of trisomy 13 or 18. Then she got to the risk factor and we got the best news of the week. She was talking about how the cutoff risk level for trisomy 13/18 was normally 1 in 150 and that our risk was now 1 in 139, which wasn't too far off.... We had to stop her right there and then, because we had been operating on the assumption that it was 1 in 39. So she showed us the numbers again. Somehow, our initial information wasn't accurate and the odds were actually better than 2.5%. Whatever happened in the intervening 3 weeks, we had the great news that we aren't just banking on 97.5%, but instead on 99.3%.

We realize that there is no guarantee that Bright Flower is going to be totally okay. But we also realize that we trust in a good and merciful God and that no matter what happens, WE will be okay. So we continue to pray that He would bless us with a healthy child who we can raise to return thanks to the God who made him or her. And we ask for your prayers as well. Here's to 99.3%.

Clarice

Where's Jackson's ring?

Tonight as I was getting Jackson ready for his bath, he pointed at my hand and said "wing". It took me a minute to figure out that he was talking about my wedding ring. I said, "Yes, that's mommy's ring." So he pointed again and said "mommy's wing", then pointed out the door in Ian's general direction and said "daddy's wing". I thought it might be a nice teachable moment so I told him "mommy's ring means daddy loves mommy and daddy's ring means mommy loves daddy." So he pointed to his hand and asked "Where's Jackson's wing?" Ain't that precious?

Clarice

Cherry Milk

So Jackson's been sick this past week. It was bad enough that his pediatrician prescribed an antibiotic because she was detecting a sinus infection and possible ear infection. Ian and I had just been talking about the fact that he hadn't had an ear infection in about a year and we thought maybe we were out of the woods after the first 4 episodes between months 5 and 12. Not a good idea to gloat like that.... I was a bit worried about how we would get the medicine in his system. It was pretty easy up until 12 months. He didn't know what "no" meant yet. But now he's almost two and sometimes willful. I thought I would employ a pediatric dentist trick and try to make the medicine sound like a great thing. So I started talking about how we would have some "cherry milk" after dinner. Since he has positive feelings about both cherry flavor and milk, the stuff went down pretty easily. I guess it also helps that Jackson doesn't get much sugar (1 juice box and 2 pieces of chocolate in his life - poor son of a dentist) and these modern medicines are loaded with sweetness. So the next morning when we talked about "cherry milk", he got all excited and just slurped it down. Of course, the next day, in between doses, he looked at Ian and said "I want cherry milk. I want cherry milk." And Ian had to hold him off until the appointed time. So now we have just one more day of "cherry milk". I'm not quite sure what will happen when he doesn't get his morning and evening "treat" any more. Now if we could just figure out how to get him to think that the nebulizer treatments of albuterol are a great thing...

Clarice

Bright Flower

Hi, we're having another baby!

The first trimester is nearing an end, most of the extended family have been told and it's time to make a general announcement.

Do any of you pregnant parents have womb names? When we first found out about Jackson, we didn't really think of him as a tiny person until we saw his first ultrasound. Then after seeing him swim around with his eleven week paddles we just had to name him. But what? I've heard various terms of endearment for the little one-incher, such as Li'l Bean and Prawn. I think we waited until we knew the sex, then we named him in the tradition of John's in our family. Ian means John in Scottish (so if you're over there and have to use the bathroom, just ask for the Ian). There are actually over forty different ways to say John: Ivan, Ewan, Johan, Sean, Juan and...Juancho. Juancho rhymes with honcho and sounded manly to me. Juancho!!! Juancho-ho-ho!!! It stuck after playfully saying it with gusto a few times. Funny, though, that as soon as Jackson Timothy was born, we promptly forgot his womb name. He was no longer in the womb. Jackson after Ian and Ian's dad John and meaning "God is gracious." Timothy after Clarice's dad Timothy and meaning "to honor or fear God."

So now we have another one-incher. This time were hoping for a girl. It might not be a she but if it is we will naturally name her after the moms. Clarice's name means bright, illustrius and Ian's mom's name is Ivy while Clarice's mom's name is Pansy. Bright Flower. Which makes us Christian hippies, according to Clarice's brother. Bright Flower reflects the meanings of illuminating the fragrance of Jesus Christ (can you make a smell visible?), which is our wish for her.

If we have a boy we're not sure what we'll call him, but perhaps his womb name will be Strong Cedar.

Expectant, Part 2

Back in September, we blogged about being Expectant. We had been telling people that we were expecting in 10 or 11 months. Turns out we were right on the nose. So we can now officially update that expectant date from 10 to 11 months to 6 months from now.

Clarice

Conversational Gems

For the past two months or so, Jackson has been putting together words in an attempt to make sentences. He's getting better and better at communicating, but some of the earlier attempts were just precious. Here are some of my favorite moments.

"Another Book"

Jackson loves books. One afternoon I was sitting in the living room and he walked over and put one of his books in my lap. I took that to mean that he wanted to read, so I settled him in my lap and read through the book with him. As soon as I finished, he looked at me and said "anana book," meaning "another book". I saw one just a few feet away on the loveseat so I pointed it out to him and told him that if he brought me the other book I would read it to him. So he happily complied and we looked through "Cars, Trucks, and Trains". When we finished that book, he looked at me again and said "anana book." Since there weren't any more in the living room, I said "You can go to your room and bring me another book". He happily jumped off my lap again and starting prancing (those of you who have seen him "run" know what I'm talking about) off to his bedroom. The sound of prancing feet stopped abruptly and reversed. He peeked back at me and said, "It's dawk". I wasn't sure what "dawk" meant, so I peeked around the corner into his room to see that the light wasn't on. I didn't even know he knew the word "dark" yet. That was our first clue that he was going to start telling us about his needs and talking about abstract thoughts.

"There's a Blue Van"

Jackson's really into vehicles. Around two months ago, he started pointing out every single car on our way to and from home and saying "Oh! Car! Car! Car!" He must have learned "truck" from school because a few weeks later, he started saying "Oh! Twuck! Twuck! Twuck!". The declarations must come in threes for some reason. So one night we drove past a van and he said, "Oh! Twuck! Twuck!..." you get the idea. I thought, well now, if he knows the difference between cars and all trucks, it might be time to teach him the difference between trucks and vans. So I said, "No, that's a van." He repeated the word "van" under his breath a few times. And then a few blocks later, he said "Oh!" and pointed. Then he followed it up with a full sentence, "There's a blue van." I didn't know he knew "there's" or the color blue (now it's the only color he knows). I was fairly impressed, so I declared, "There's a blue van? You're so smart!" To which he made a sheepish face and said, "Noooo." I didn't want him to start so early on the whole fake modesty thing, so I said, "Yes. That was a good sentence. You're getting to be a smart boy." Again, he said, "Noooooo". "You're not smart?" I asked. "Nooooooo," again. So I double-checked his reponse system by asking, "Is your name Jackson?" Then came the reply, "Noooooo". Just being contrary, just like an almost two-year-old.

"For the Bible Tells Me So"

My parents got Jackson a book of hymns and children's Christian songs quite a while ago. There's a little strip of buttons where we can play the tune of the songs play while we read the lyrics. Jackson's favorite song is "Jesus Loves Me." We realized that when he started saying "Mommy, Daddy, Mommy, Daddy" to the tune of the song. Then about a month ago, he starting catching some of the syllables of the song. A couple weeks later, he started catching the lyrics, but dropped the melodies, making it a toddler spoken word version of "Jesus Loves Me." The tune or the lyrics would come up at random times. Last week we were with Ian's parents and realized it was time to start the bedtime process. We told Jackson, "It's time to get ready for bed now." He replied, "No. For the Bible tells me so." We didn't quite see the scriptural justification, but definitely laughed about it anyway.

Looking forward to (and also dreading) future conversations.

Clarice

Happy New Year!!

Wow! We whizzed through Christmas and New Year's Day without blogging. Hope you had a wonderful celebration of the birth of our Lord!!

Clarice

Family Picture

From November. All dressed up...better take a picture. But check out the look on Jackson's face. And that was the best of all three of us. Sigh.

Mine

We had our first parent-teacher meeting with Jackson's new teachers last month. It was a pretty encouraging meeting. They said that one of their favorite things about him was that he is always happy, no matter what he is doing. Apparently, some of the kids are only happy with certain activities, but just about anything can make our Jackson happy. The only thing that really gets him upset is sometimes not getting the food choices he wants....like fruit...for every course of every meal.

The teachers also mentioned that they were very impressed with his ability to focus. His primary teacher reported on how she once observed him stacking blocks and singing at the same time. She thought it was rare for a 20-month old to do that and was even more impressed that the hustle and bustle of other toddlers around him didn't distract him from his dual tasks. That description of focus didn't surprise Ian and myself. In the Gallup list of Strengths, I've been assessed with having a high level of Focus. We both thought he was demonstrating his mommy's tendency to be so single-minded that the world tunes out.

But the most interesting part of the meeting was when they expressed one of their concerns. The had observed that in the whole toddler "toy negotiation process" (ie what does a toddler do when another grabs the toy he is holding and proclaims "Mine!"?) Jackson had a tendency to just give up the toy. They wanted him to hang on and say, "I'm using that". Ian and I didn't get how that was a problem. After all, we eventually want him to learn how to be generous and sacrificial. Apparently, the teachers want the other children to learn that it's not okay to grab a toy out of someone else's hands. Plus, they saw that Jackson actually did get upset when he lost something that he was using and they didn't want him to be frustrated without a need to be. We weren't sure what we were supposed to do about that.

But, alas, it seems that just one month of human development has taken care of that particular "problem". Now Jackson has two favorite words (besides cat pee pee). "NO!" and "Mine!". And he is getting quite adept at fighting for what he wants (unless said perpetrators are named Alaina or Harper, then he's putty). Now we're going to have to figure out how and when to teach the concept of sharing. Ugh! I don't know that I've mastered that concept.

Clarice

Halloween Pictures

Okay, they're a few weeks after the fact. Ian and I decided to go ahead and celebrate Halloween. How often do you have an excuse to go knock on neighbors' doors and introduce yourselves without being thought weird. We met lots of neighbors.

Here's our trick-or-treater already grubbing on loot before we even left for our evening's festivities. It was Ian's idea to dress him up as a Jack(son)-O-Lantern.



And a family picture...


Jackson had so much fun knocking on neighbors' doors (which we don't normally allow). But he didn't know what to do with the candy everyone wanted to unload on him (because we normally don't allow that either).

Next year, Ian wants to dress him up as a Jack-alope. Poor kid. Fortunately, he won't be able to get mad at us for dressing him like this until he's at least 8. Six more years of mirth and mayhem.

Clarice

Cat Pee Pee

I don't quite know how it happened, but Jackson's left shoe has been reeking distinctly of the scent of cat urine for the past month or so. It's particularly pungent after his shoes get wet, which happens about once a week, when it's warm enough for him to go diving under the sprinklers at his daycare. So a couple of weeks ago, I had to complain out loud. "Jackson, why do your shoes smell like cat pee pee?" He spent the next 15 minutes or so walking around the house saying, "cat pee pee...cat pee pee...cat pee pee." He's never parroted a phrase repeatedly before. And the few other times I've complained of the recurrent odor out loud, he's picked up the chant quite readily. I have no idea why he likes that phrase so much. And I don't know why it cracks me up so much that he'll walk around the house repeating it over and over. So easily entertained.

Clarice

Afternoon Moon

Have you noticed the moon the past couple of weeks? Not the shape, but the time of its appearance in the eastern sky. It's appeared as early as 4:00 PM, while the sun is shining at least 65% (my guesstimate) of its noontime intensity.

Actually, I should be clear. Jackson was the one who first noticed the moon. He has been learning a lot of words lately. Around a month ago, his favorite pictures to point out were those illustrating the moon, the stars, the sun, and the clouds. It was cute to hear him fumbling about learning the differences between those words. One evening we pointed out the full moon and he called it the sun. No matter how many times we corrected him, he kept calling it the sun. I guess he hadn't really seen the sun directly, only in pictures, and most moons are depicted in illustrations as being half-crescents.

So a couple of weeks ago, as we were driving home from work around 4:30, he shouted out "Moon! A moon! I see moon!" I replied something like "Oh, you see a moon? Are you sure? The moon only wakes up at night-time." I thought he was probably confused again, since he was still learning those words and it was far too bright for the moon to make its appearance. And that was that. A few late afternoons later, he pointed again and said "Moon! Moon!" This time I looked where he was pointing and durned if it weren't the moon shining faintly over the horizon.

I pondered it a bit more the rest of the drive and realized that my little boy had taught me yet another lesson. I was convinced he was wrong about the moon. After all, I know that that moon belongs to the night. What place does it have appearing during the day, when the sun reigns? But Jackson doesn't know all these things. He just knows what he sees. And that hasn't yet been colored by his expectations about what he should see.

"Structure must always submit to Spirit." That's how my church phrases it. Sure, God's character is unchanging, but the times change and cultures change. Thus, the church and God's people must also be willing to change in order to engage the people God longs to bring back into relationship with Himself. I sometimes forget that. I see things the way I'm used to seeing things or the way I expect to see them and forget to look for different ways of seeing God or people or circumstances. Then little things like this happen and I am reminded again that I shouldn't rule things out. I need to remember to look with fresh eyes and see if there's something new and unexpected on the horizon.

Clarice

Bella

Have you heard about this movie? My pastor has mentioned it in church twice after having met with the filmmakers. After viewing the website I've learned that the filmmakers wanted to promote a life-affirming message. The conservative blogosphere is excited also. The townhall.com home page had two columns about it. Click here and here to read. Another one here added on 10/26.

It's opening this weekend with a limited release. Here's to hoping it will gain some traction at the box office. Ian and I are going to try to see it on Saturday. Any babysitters available?

Clarice

With a rebel yell...Revisited

Remember this from August 2006?


Well add a year, a cool new haircut (and some hair to necessitate the haircut), replace the toothbrush with a microphone, and you got Jackson doing a pretty good impression of Billy Idol


Or you can enjoy his impersonation of PeeWee Herman (You don't want to get mixed up with a guy like me. I'm a loner, Dottie, a rebel.)


That's our animated boy!

Clarice

Tenacious Bee

I have so many (potentially) blogworthy thoughts in my head. But the mental rough drafts for each are very long and would require a considerable amount of writing skill to pull off successfully. I keep thinking I ought to just sit down and start one of these long, self-aggrandizing posts. Instead, my mind keeps returning to something I saw this morning.

As I was getting into my car this morning, I saw a bee on the roof of my car. I don't like bees (because I was stung once) so I blew on him (of course he's a he) to agitate him enough to fly off. He didn't fly off. Instead, he hunkered down a bit more on the fabric of my ragtop and gave a little listless wave of the wings. I figured he was dying and would thus blow off my car once I started driving. So I headed off to work, listening to Jackson point out every single bus and truck on the way to UCLA. I dropped Jackson off at daycare, then stayed for a while to watch him and chat with one of the other mothers. Finally, I figured it was time to get to work, so I completed my journey down to south campus. When I got out of my car, I spied the bee again. He was displaced about a foot from his original location on my car, but was there nonetheless. I was incredibly impressed. It's about 8 miles to UCLA from home. I figure I'm roughly three or four hundred times larger than a bee, so a journey like that's probably similar to a trip from LA to Atlanta...on the roof of an airplane. I blew on him again and he had the same reaction. I tapped on the roof near him to see if he'd move, but he just hunkered down again.

All day long, my thoughts returned to the bee. I don't know why. I just wondered why he hung onto my car for such a long journey. When I returned to my car at the end of the day, I expected to see a dead version of him on the roof. But I didn't. I looked around on the ground and elsewhere on the car to see if I could find his carcass, but nothing. He had flown away at some point in the day.

I think I know why I'm so struck by the image of this bee. When I'm not feeling well, either physically or emotionally, I have a hard time holding on to any type of commitment. I just let go of things. But something in this bee caused him to hunker down and just hang on in the face of adversity. I probably need to learn some of that. Don't give up. Hang in there. Enjoy the ride. And when I'm ready, then I can spread my gravity-defying wings and fly....

Clarice