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

Jackson's First Statement

Since Jackson was first born, we've been tracking his major milestones. I had been writing them in my journal. For his first 13 months, I scribbled quite regularly about the new things he was learning. First smile, first laugh (funny that my parents caught both of those firsts), first day of eating baby food, first tooth, second tooth, third tooth.... But since he started walking at 13 months, there haven't been quite as many entries. It's interesting. So many activities are finite...measurable. You can clearly determine when a child has learned to crawl or walk or say a specific word. But now his main focus appears to be language development. And that's something that can take a lifetime.

I blogged before about some of his first words. He's certainly expanded his vocabulary in the past month. And his pronunciation has improved. For example, he now calls broccoli "brocciole" instead of "bok" and orange is now "orch" instead of "oof". However, he still says "ow ow" instead of "I love you."

Well, now Jackson's starting to put words together. Most of the time, it's words to express his needs. "More more milk", "more more brocciole", "more more orch". And tonight he charmed our small group at the dinner table by saying very clearly, "more corn peesh." Notice a pattern there? Yep, our boy LOVES his food. And the balance of the time, Jackson's naming the objects he can associate with words. "Oh, look...bus....bus....bus...bye, bye, bus" or "Oh, look...ruck...cruck...truck...bye, bye truck" or "moon...ky...tars...keeyoud". But last week, he made his first declarative statement.

I had been hanging out with some dear girlfriends for a very sad event (more about the ending of an era in another post) and was looking forward to coming home to see my boys. When I came in the door, I found Ian curled up on the sofa with his eyes closed. I figured he'd be trying to take his Sunday nap since he'd been under the weather. And Jackson was sitting on the living room floor "drawing". At least he was handling paper and crayons. He gave me his happy Jackson smile when I came in. When I sat down next to him and asked him how his day went, he pointed to Ian on the sofa and said "Daddy seeping". "What?" I asked. "Seeping," he gestured again, "Daddy seeping. Sssss." Since I still wasn't sure what he said, I told him that I didn't understand. That's when Ian piped up from his semi-conscious position on the sofa, "He said Daddy's sleeping." Ooops!

I've been reliving the episode all week long. It just tickles me that my little boy can identify the action of sleep and felt it was important to tell me that Daddy was sleeping. I wish I knew why he thought it was important to tell me. And I marvel that he knew that I didn't understand what he said. And, of course, it cracks me up that Ian had to emerge from his Sunday nap to translate for me. Overall, it will be a memory that I'll cherish. So my entries in my journal have slowed a bit. I just can't keep up with all of Jackson's new words. But I look forward to more language milestones....like our first real conversation.

Clarice

Medical Missions

My church takes a team to Ensenada, Mexico thrice yearly and the Labor Day Weekend trip is their medical team trip. Clarice used to go every year with the dental team, but then she met me and we had a little one. This year, I wanted to serve the poor in Ensenada and I especially wanted to serve on the dental team so that I could observe my wife in her natural habitat and understand better what she does so passionately.

Man, was I not ready.

First of all, I'm not a clean freak. Or maybe I am. As a special effects technician on movies, I got used to working with dirt and eating with not-so-cleaned hands (sometimes it was hypo-allergenic dirt). I could never work food service because I can't stand the need to always have clean hands for working with food. Besides my hands dry out when I wash them too much. However, one of the requirements of any medical team is sterile instruments and sterilization was the only way this medically ignorant volunteer could be of valued assistance. And I know these poor people need clean instruments because they are about to have their teeth pulled.

It's one thing in the movies to create squirting, bloody wounds with tubes and syringes or have red corn syrup and luncheon meat blasted out of your chest for a simulated gunshot wound. It's another thing altogether to witness a room full of wincing or uncomfortable people, trying to relax in lawnchairs as foreigners scrape plaque or fill cavities. I didn't get an upset stomach, but I was a bit uneasy at first.

So, fortunately for me, by lunchtime I had relaxed. I was able to take the instruments through the disinfectant rinses, dry and package them in sterile envelopes and pressure steam (autoclave) them for ten minutes. I could appreciate the smiles on faces of people who had been relieved of their tooth ache, a pain they had dealt with for up to a year and one that has now been replaced with a "good, temporary pain" as the novocaine wears off. I mourned for the children whose moms approved having their children's teeth pulled because they couldn't afford proper care. I was glad that certain poor farmers' children were given floss for the first time ever. A happy smile is a healthy smile.

I know one thing for sure, I'm going to double my efforts to floss my teeth properly.

Special Guest - God

Hey, here's a funny video about the Trinity made by some friends at my old church, Bel Air Presbyterian.

Expectant

Ever since Jackson was born, people have been asking us about "the next one." You know...nudge, nudge, wink, wink..."So when's the next one?" I think it took my dad all of one week after meeting his first grandchild before he asked for the next one. I don't quite remember how I responded in my sleep-deprived state of delirium. In fact, for the following year, my general thought upon being so questioned was to cover my ears and loudly sing some non-nursery rhyming song. Nothing like a little Deathcab for Cutie or Alanis Morisette to kill the thought of returning to 8-9 feedings and 10-12 poopy diapers a day. Actually, now that I think of it, it probably would have been better to sing some of those mind-numbing nursery rhymes after all.

However, now that Jackson's turning into a little person, we're starting to dream about the next one. And now we're proud to announce that we're expecting in 10-11 months!!

So...did I get you? Well don't feel bad if I tricked you into a false hope (if you're still confused, remember that pregnancy is traditionally considered to be 9 months). We've been saying that to people for the past month or so and quite a few people have been tricked into thinking that we're actually expecting (including an anonymous person I'll only identify as mom).

But I can honestly say that even though are not expecting, we truly are expectant. Not to get into the revealing details...but actually trying to promote the birth of a child is REALLY different from having it just happen to you (And by "you", I don't mean the hypothetical, non-descript "you". I actually mean Ian and myself). So now I've joined the ranks of those who long for a child. I'm a participant in the regular cycles of hope and disappointment. And I'm realizing that it's a hard place to be. But I am also confident in the goodness of God and the wisdom of His timing. For when we didn't think we were ready to welcome a baby, He brought Jackson. And now that we demand that we're ready for another, I rest assured that He has the right outcome in mind.

Clarice

A Little Lenten Period

I saw something a couple of months ago that got me all fired up. See, I have this pet peeve (well, I have lots of them, but this one is blogworthy). It really really bugs me when people throw their cigarette butts out their car windows to the street below. Maybe it's because I grew up in the 70's, when we were hounded by the "Keep America Beautiful" campaign. You know...Keep Litter in Its Place. It came at about the same time as "Only You Can Prevent Forest Fires," but that's another story. Because of that decade of brainwashing, I can NOT bring myself to litter with a clear conscience. If you check the lint trap of our dryer, you'll find plenty of evidence of that fact, as I tuck trash in my pockets if I can't find a trash can (or I tuck it into Ian's pockets so he can deal with either disposal or litter guilt) and then forget that I was going to avoid littering when we load our washer. Again, another story.

So a couple of months ago, I saw the familiar sight of an arm out a car window casually waving a cigarette. I started in with my normal flash of internal annoyance, when I noticed something that really ignited a reaction. See, the arm wasn't hanging out of just any car. No, this was a Toyota Prius. Yes, the Hybrid, the eco-friendly, "green" car. So I stayed on the car's tail, just waiting and waiting for the inevitable casual flip of the cigarette butt down to the street below. What do you think happened? Well, I have to be completely honest here. I took my eyes off the offending piece of refuse (the cigarette butt) for just a moment. When I looked back, the butt was gone, the hand empty. So I can't say with certainty that the Prius owner was also guilty of littering, but if circumstantial evidence holds up....

It just seemed like such an oxymoronic observation. Most Prius owners aren't casual about their car choice. I've found them to be fairly intentional about the choice of that particular car. And most of them choose Prius because of the potential reduction of gas consumption, thus decreasing said owner's carbon footprint. However, last time I checked, neither smoking nor littering were particularly beneficial to the environment (nor the health of the offender and his/her second-hand victims). OK. So maybe this Prius owner wasn't a rabid carbon-footprint reducer and maybe we can say that I shouldn't be so hard on the potential hypocrisy it would demonstrate. Maybe this Prius owner was just trying to be economical. You know, save some money on gas. But even that smells a bit oxymoronic, especially when you consider the fact that the average smoker consumes around 2 packs of cigarettes a day, which is the equivalent of about 2 gallons of gas (in my car, that's 2 days of commuting).

At any rate, I got all fired up thinking about other examples of hypocrisy. And after a while, I realized that many of the examples of things I thought of exemplified one side of the political spectrum. For example, why is it that many people who are passionate animal rights advocates are also strong advocates of the movement to expand abortion rights. Why is saving the whales more important that saving unborn people? OK. I got that one from Erwin McManus. Here's one I thought of on my own. Why is it that advocates who wish to normalize homosexual behavior can use the justification that sexual preference is inborn and can't be changed? Yet when a sex offender is being punished, people defend them with the justification that they can change their sexual preference and should not be subjected to preventive measures to protect children from their advances in the future. Oh no. I had a ton more in my mind that I can't remember right now. At any rate, I started thinking about using this blog to make a case for conservatism. I started a dozen posts in my mind about the drawbacks of modern day liberalism and the positive points of neoconservatism. I spent hours in the evening (and sometimes even at work) reading political blogs trying to put together evidence-based coherent arguments. But then something happened...

It was about a month ago at small group. A friend of mine (Hi Stev!) was praying for us to be passionate about the things that Jesus was passionate about. And suddenly I had this feeling of conviction. I was spending much more time pursuing knowledge of politics than I was knowledge of Jesus. And I had this immediate sense of what I had to do. I tried to push it away, but it kept coming back. So 30 days ago I declared a little lenten period. I was going to avoid all of my favorite political blogs and any other kind of political analysis for 40 days. Instead, any time I had a compulsion for that material, I would try to think about Jesus instead.

So it's been 30 days now. And it hasn't been too bad. It was kind of tough at the beginning, especially when major political moments occurred. But I've enjoyed redeeming the time. And come to think of it, I can't even remember what major political events occurred in the past 30 days which would require my attention.

10 more days to go. Hopefully, I'll be able to return to my political education with a bit more balance. But I'll still allow myself to get a bit annoyed when I see the flip of cigarette butt out the car window.

Clarice

So Affectionate

He Likes Cake

This was taken about a month ago at the birthday party of one of his little school friends. Poor firstborn child of a pediatric dentist. At 17 months of age, he'd only had cake 3 times in his life. He'd only had maybe a dozen cookies (it only took him 24 hours to learn how to say "coo-key, coo-key, coo-key"). Only had one m&m once because Aunt McCall didn't know that pediatric dentists' kids get limited sugar exposure. And has only had water and milk to drink...until this same day, when the birthday boy's mom handed him a juice box, which he polished in short order, followed by the slamming of fists together (sign language for "more") and repeated pleas for "more wah...peesh." How long do you think we can keep him in the dark about the ravages/pleasure of sugar?

Clarice

Look Who's Talking

So now that Jackson's (almost) mastered walking and running, he's moved on to advancing his verbal skills. It's so adorable. We hear him in the morning when he wakes up talking to his stuffed "swamp cat." Just babbling away in his little precious voice. Other times, he'll point at something, look at us expectantly and say something like, "belaka chp num pekatu cho...um...bao bao?" We don't know what he's saying half the time, but he's clearly mastered some words. The words don't always sound like they're supposed to, however. But since we have to listen to him all the time, we've started piecing together what some of his words actually mean. So here's the first edition of the Claweyre translation of the Jackson lexicon of language.

TRANSPORT (he likes wheels and anything attached to wheels):
bus = bus
cah = car (slight Boston accent, since that's where he first came into existence)
ehpane = airplane
ehcop = helicopter

NATURE:
ow-di = outside
moo = moon
tree = tree
kys = sky

ANIMALS:
mao mao = cat
wo wo = dog
ba ba = lamb
bur = bird
cow = cow

FOOD ITEMS:
cheese = cheese
nilk = milk
wah = water
bao bao = Chinese for bread (yes, our boy is developing bilingual tendencies)
ooof = orange
ba = banana
bok = broccoli
appo = apple
appo = grape
appo = cherry
appo = pear

PLEASANTRIES:
bye bye = bye bye
hi = hi
peesh = please
keeku = thank you
nonononononono = I don't want to say sorry

and our personal favorite....
ow Ow = I love you

I'm hoping he grows out of "ow Ow" before he meets his future wife. But for now, it's darn cute.

Clarice

Pain and Suffering

Last Thursday, Jackson contracted a fever and I kept him home from daycare on Friday. The poor little guy was just miserable and uncomfortable, his skin burning hot. He would try to sleep and just toss and turn, whimper and groan. Even play time was short bursts of joy tempered by his body's internal battle. It was really sad to see him suffer.

Twice, when Jackson was unable to sleep at a nap time, I let him run around and play. Both times, he would eventually come to me and hold my leg, not saying the usual enthusiastic "up?" I held him while working one-handed on my computer and he would watch quietly, maybe scratching a finger on the edge of the computer, but none of his usual contorting to click every button within reach. Both times, he fell asleep in my arms, very quietly and peacefully.

Now, here's the awesome part. Both times, the little guy just wanted to be held by his daddy so he could fall asleep. And I discovered that this resulted in me being even more filled with love for him. It was more than being chosen by him and my being able to comfort him. My heart just went out to him in his pain and suffering and limited means of communication. And being allowed this privilege caused far greater feelings for him than I have when he's healthy, running around and not needing or wanting the same closeness or quality time. And I experience a lot of joy from his healthy moments.

I think I connected with God in those moments. He loves us unconditionally and longs for us to desire him. When we need him most, He is there the most. When we suffer the most, he loves us the most. I need my Daddy God. Thank you Lord! I love you, too.

Now my wife has what Jackson had - hot skin, achy body, restless sleep. It's my privilege to love her through the moment.

Ian

The ABC Song

I was really really hoping that Jackson would be musical. And happily, he's showing evidence that he might not have inherited his PapaJohn's...uh...lack of pitch sensitivity. To PapaJohn's credit, there's a wonderful resonance to his voice. But my compliments will have to stop with his speaking abilities.

The first evidence of Jackson's musical sensibilities came as a surprise a few months ago. He was in the charge of his Auntie M while Ian and I had dinner out. When we came back, M said that he had hummed the tune to "Skip to my Lou" along with her. I hadn't heard him do that yet. Hence, the surprise. Sure enough, the next morning when I sang it to him to test him out, he echoed the notes of the chorus right back to me.

Then a few weeks later, I put him down to nap. Sometimes, we put a book in his crib so he can entertain himself before falling asleep. This time I put a little songbook with a micro-keyboard in with him. I heard him tapping on some keys. Then I heard a single note followed by an off key "aaa". Another note followed by a slightly flat "aaa". Then a third time with the same key on the piano. And darned if he didn't hit that note pitch perfect..."AAA"! The kiddo was learning to sing on key!!

Then last month we were in Atlanta for the Independence Day holiday. We noticed that Jackson had this little phrase he kept repeating. A O A O A O A. We weren't sure what he was singing until we realized that the notes of his A O A O A O A perfectly matched those when we sing A B C D E F G. Of course that entertained us for a while (especially cousin Aidan, who really knows his ABCs).

Now the ABC song is heard daily in the Eyre household. And Jackson's shown significant improvement. Now he's up to A B E B E B E, Etch Uh Uh Uh Uh Uh X. Then he quits. He's getting better every day. And he loves to perform. In fact, next time you see him, ask him to sing the ABC song. He will gladly oblige. He might not have all the lyrics down yet, but as his mama, I am proud to announce that he's hitting all the right notes pretty close to proper pitch.

Clarice

Pat Pat Pat

What is it about us as adults that when we pick up babies we like to pat them on their backs? Both Ian and I have been doing that since Jackson was a newborn. He's even learned from my mother that the comforting rhythmic pressure of an adult hand on his back is called "pat pat pat." We used to pat him to burp him or to soothe him when he was distressed. Now it's usually after he's fallen or unhappy.

A few months ago, Jackson started patting us. It's cute as all get out. He'd be crying about something (usually being denied the pleasure of throwing his milk cup across the room or losing sight of us as we passed into the bathroom). We'd pick him up in his distressed state and he would calm down as he patted either of us on the back.

So yesterday as I dropped him off at daycare, I disappeared for a nanosecond into the kitchen and he became upset. I came out and picked him up, holding him close for a hug. He calmed and started patting me on the back (because I was distressed? I don't know). Then he stopped and looked at me and reached around to pat his own back. I was trying to figure out what he was doing when he patted me again, then looked at me and patted his own back. Then I got it. He wanted me to pat his back. So I did...and he relaxed with the pleasure of it. Funny how far a little pat pat pat can go.

Clarice

Single Mom

Ian left today. He's scheduled to be gone for one month working on a movie officially called Untitled Genre Project. Poor sod is stuck in Hawaii while I get to luxuriate in the summer heat of Los Angeles in our ramshackle, non-air-conditioned duplex with a toddler in the throes of early onset terrible twos.

It's actually Ian's second out-of-town assignment for this same project. Last time was 11 days in New Mexico. And Jackson and I survived (with a little help from my mom). Ian asked me how I felt about his absence this time around. I told him that the net effect was zero. I'm more anxious about the longer period of time (and sad about not seeing my sweetie for a whole month), but feel more confident that I can do it, having done it for 11 days already.

But it helps to know that in a month, he'll be back again. I just don't know how single moms do it for years on end. I just can't imagine not being able to share the load AND the joys of parenthood with another. One of the other moms at Jackson's daycare once joked that whenever her husband was out of town, leaving her alone with the kids, she always greeted him on his return with the declaration that her resolve never to divorce him strengthened with each experience with single parenthood. I definitely prefer parenting with a partner.

So hurry home, my dear. There's so much to share. It's only been one day so far (out of the thirty-something to come), but you've already missed out on Jackson releasing a squirt of diarrhea on his bedroom floor AND the cute anecdote about how he greeted his little friends Chris and Anusha today.

Clarice

Family Time

Ian and I made a commitment to make sure that Jackson had an opportunity to see his paternal grandparents at least twice a year. This has turned into an annual Eyre clan gathering over the 4th of July holiday (if you do it twice, is it officially an annual event?). So last week, the clan gathered together for some family time. Here we are at the foot of Stone Mountain in Georgia.

It has been wonderful to spend time with these folks. I'm really blessed with my new extended family. PapaJohn is a jolly bloke, with an infectious laugh and an incredible knowledge of Scripture and church history. MumIvy is a tenderheart who loves to serve her family in any way she can (and particularly through baked goods). My brother-in-law Roy and his wife Becky are an inspiration in the way they have chosen to be involved in the advancement of the kingdom of God through their work with Wycliffe Bible Translators. And I love the way they have chosen to raise their three kids, who are wonderful cousins to Jackson. And Elisabeth is my kindred spirit sister, who likes to read the same kind of things I like to read and think about the things that I like to think about. So blessed.

Sad to be gone from the madness of the Eyre family gathering. Looking forward to the next.

Clarice