Smell My Feet

**UPDATE**

Unlike my original post informed you, Jack and Baylor will not be getting haircuts today. Instead, they will be visiting the doctor's office and receiving treatment for croup. Sigh.

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I just wanted to clear the air of any misconceptions and let everyone know that we will not be trick-or-treating this year. The kids do not have Hallowe'en (this is how Stephen insists on spelling it, so I humor him) costumes simply because a) I have neither the time nor the talent nor, quite honestly, the inclination to hand-make three darling and memorable costumes, and b) we really couldn't justify plopping down $15+ per costume for something that the boys might be terrified of and Charlotte just couldn't appreciate. Really, I think all three will survive not having experienced Hallowe'en 2008 to the fullest. I don't want to sound cynical, but likely the boys would have pooped out three houses down (or run away down the alley in pursuit of a dog), gotten cranky because I dared push them past their normal bedtime, or run away in absolute terror when presented with costumes. Plus they again have bad colds, double-plus (thank you, George Orwell) they don't even know what candy is. I promise, they are clueless, and I intend to keep them clueless as long as possible. Sure, we could drive around town and visit a few friends and their grandparents, but I'm a single mom tonight as Stephen insists on being present for the planetarium's Hallowe'en shows. And I'm just not up to hauling that many cranky, costumed kids around on my own. So no trick-or-treating for us.

One thing we most definitely will be doing today is participating in the boys' first professional haircuts. The tension is palpable, let me assure you. Right now they look like crazy, wild mountainmen with slightly curly mullets, and I just can't let this look continue any longer. My mom thinks this venture may end in disaster for many reasons, first and foremost being the boys' tendencies to be terrified of new and strange situations, which we would assume includes bringing scissors anywhere near their heads in an unfamiliar locale. Also, the stylist doing their hair has warned me that today he will be in full vampire-esque costume. Yes, that's right, I am insane. Luckily my husband will be available for full assistance during the entire episode. I will attach before, during, and after pictures later, providing we all survive the ordeal.

So I hope everyone else enjoys the traditional Hallowe'en rituals. As for me and my house, we will be licking our wounds in the comfort of our own home.

Happy Hallowe'en!

Charlotte is Two Months Old!

Happy Birthday, Little Fat Bottom!

We love you and can't imagine life without you.

I Love My Husband

(I should note that, when titling this post, I was first given the option of "I Love Beer" as a suggested title. Maybe next time...)

I will probably embarrass him greatly by doing this, so I'll try not to get too verbose, but since I waxed eloquent about the kids last time, I thought it was only fitting to do the same for my brilliant husband, Stephen. First I will open with a list of some of the books (only some--there are others scattered in various locations about the house) Stephen is reading. These particular books are located at the top of the hated rickety bookshelf:

• The Ballad of the White Horse, by G.K. Chesterton
• Thirteen Detectives, by G.K. Chesteron
• Rich Christians in an Age of Hunger, by Ronald Sider
• Productive Christians in an Age of Guilt Manipulators, by David Chilton (as I understand it, an answer to Rich Christians)
• White Walls: Collected Stories, by Tatyana Tolstaya
• Off Main Street: Barnstormers, Prophets and Gatemouth's Gator, by Michael Perry
• The Discoverers: A History of Man's Search to Know His World and Himself, by Daniel J. Boorstin
• The God Theory: Universes, Zero-Point Fields, and What's Behind It All, by Bernard Haisch

And just finished last night (I know this because I found him TYPING A SUMMARY of it after the kids were in bed): Quantum Physics and Theology, by John Polkinghorne. Oh, yeah, and for over a year and a half he has been reading Gibbons' volumes on Rome. I'm honestly surprised I'm not finding anything on Constantinople, his pet historical obsession. Also, some of these are our books, some are from the college library, and some are from the city library. And one is from Chaplain Benson's library.

Is anyone else just awestruck by this kid? You need to understand that this is just the home list. He is a professor of astronomy at Olivet Nazarene University, and at work, in his office, which is bursting with books, magazines, and academic articles, he is reading even more. He even reads relevant articles online, some of which he sends me, and most of which go over my head. Now Steve is not normally a multi-tasker, but for some reason he is able to keep seventeen separate books going at the same time, a talent that completely eludes me, reader though I am. And all these books are just so bookish! My vampire love saga seems so terribly small (and pale--haha! Vampires, get it?) in comparison.

He reads because he has an insatiable desire to learn. He is truly an academic. He has his masters in physics (no small feat) and is now actively pursuing acceptance into the field of the history of science in order to earn his PhD. (We'll know in the spring whether he has been accepted to any of the three state schools to which he has applied. If you'd like, keep The University of Chicago in your prayers--it's the top-tier for his field and our top choice.) He believes in being a life-long learner and accumulator of knowledge, and he is always garnering now skills, new perspectives, and new information. He is brilliant.

In addition to reading, he is also an avid writer. I've posted on it before, but he is a published author of poetry and prose, including academic writings. His first short story was recently published, and he continues to submit more works of fiction for publication. Any proceeds from his publications go into one of two savings accounts we have open: "Travel to Alexandria" or "Adoption."

My husband loves our children. As I type this at eight o'clock in the morning, he is upstairs with the boys, where he has spent the night as they are coming down with something nasty and haven't slept a wink. (His job is flexible, so no need to rush in too early after such a rough night.) He takes the responsibility of the boys at night and does a great job doling medicine, changing diapers, and unstopping snot-filled noses. He is intimately familiar with their routine and never hesitates to jump in and take charge of kid-related matters. The only thing he really doesn't like is giving baths to any of the kids, but even this chore he will do if needed, without complaint. When Charlotte is fussy, he straps her into the baby carrier and goes about his chores and duties, both calming her and completing tasks. He loves to play with the boys and has a fantastic gift of relating to them without being babyish. In short, he is a wonderful father.

Hand-in-hand with being a wonderful father is being a wonderful husband. He wordlessly takes care of the dog, the cat, the recycling, the trash, the vacuuming, the watering of plants, the dishes, and various little tasks throughout each day. If ever I ask him to add something to his list of chores, he does it gladly and willingly. He leaves me notes and little gifts on a regular basis, and delights in surprising me and making me happy. Currently he is working on secret Christmas operations, and every so often he'll sing a little song about how the Christmas elves are working very, very hard, only to giggle (yes, giggle) merrily when I demand to know just what they have been doing. When he can he treats me to dates, and he never complains if the kids get in the way of "our" time. He works hard so that I can stay at home, and he labors tirelessly over our budget and our finances so that, while we are by no means rich, we are at least stable from month to month. He makes the calls (to doctors, to insurance providers, to anyone else wanting our money) that I don't like to make, and I never hear him complaining about such hated tasks. He brings me down to earth when my plans and wants get beyond ourselves, and he knows when to say "yes."

In short, he is my perfect partner, and I love him.

I Love My Kids

I realize that my life pretty much centers around my kids (this is what happens when your career is "stay-at-home mom") and that I mainly post about them, but I just love them and I want to write about them more. Sure, I often want to run away screaming for the nearest Starbucks, only to return after hours of caffeine therapy and two dozen cinnamon chip scones, but I can't because Charlotte will starve without me and Steve doesn't do a great job of combing the boys' hair. Plus I love them too much to leave them for very long.

I do have a praise for the Good Lord Above: Charlotte's colic seems to be dissipating. Hurrah! She still wakes up every 3 hours or so each night to eat, but she experiences minimal fussiness in the evenings and is asleep by about 9 p.m., a blessing after countless nights of bedtimes of midnight or later. She is growing like the proverbial weed--one day last week I noticed that, quite suddenly, she was way too long for newborn-sized clothes. In fact, she is wearing 3-6 month clothing and even some 6-9 month articles. Wow. After teeny, tiny preemies who are just now wearing clothing sizes that match their age, I am amazed. She is holding her head up like a pro, spending more and more time awake during the day (time during which she demands to be held and does not tolerate being plopped in a swing or placed on the floor for very long), and smiling like the charmer she is. Last Thursday she babbled for the first time, and now she loves to melt everyone's hearts with her sweet chatter. And to think she's not even 2 months old yet! What a genius. I think I've said it before, but I just love her.

Baylor and Jack are getting closer and closer to actual speech every day. They truly do have their own language, which is probably why it is taking them so long to form coherent words. When we ride in the car they just sit in the back, side-by-side, chattering with each other, making me feel very left out and in the dark. Clearly they understand what they are saying and clearly their mother is very dense for not comprehending their meaning. I'm sure they are discussing my waning intellect as I attempt to mimic their strange language from the driver's seat.

Not only are their language skills developing, but their play skills are taking off, too. Daily they engage in some form of hide-and-seek/peek-a-boo, using either the window panels, shower curtain, or furniture to hide from one another. Their language skills are always at work during these games, too, and they keep each other laughing boisterously for long stretches of time. Sadly, any time I try to videotape this play they stop, stare at me, and then race for the camera, completely abandoning the fun game.

More teeth are coming in rapidly (currently they each have about eight) and with much wailing and gnashing of gums. I keep Jack and Baylor almost permanently doped on Tylenol because they are complete bears about teething. Seriously, it's evidently the most excruciating thing ever, and it transforms my sweet, laughing toddlers into cranky, crying monsters. The upside to this is not having to chop up their food as much. Also, Jack has learned that if he puts his finger in Baylor's mouth (an action that causes them both much mirth), Baylor can now deliver an experimental, if not malicious, bite. Have you ever seen that YouTube video of the little boy getting bitten by his baby brother? It's just like that. Jack acts completely offended and taken aback, and he turns to me, tears pooling in his eyes, his finger still clenched in his brother's teeth. I just shrug and tell him to quit putting his digits anywhere near Baylor's mouth.

Those are pretty much all the new things that are going on here. I am finding it harder and harder (as if it wasn't hard enough) to get out with the kids as the weather gets cold. Last night it actually snowed some (I stepped out of Subway into the falling snow last night, clutching our dinner, and shouted, "No way!" at the top of my lungs before I could stop myself, thus earning some snickers from other Subway patrons), which means winter is almost upon us and that I should probably give my beautiful, still-blooming annuals to Jesus and not feel like a murderer for allowing plants to die. I am attempting to think of good indoor places to take the kids when the Winter Crazies threaten to ruin us, and so far all I am coming up with is our mall. If you are familiar with the Kankakee/Bradley/Bourbonnais area, then you know how truly depressing and stomach-churning our mall is. It will be a last resort. If anyone has any suggestions for good indoor, daytime activities that don't cost anything (imperative), let me know.

Now for a few new pictures, most of which feature Miss Charlotte:

Baylor, Charlotte, and Jack sportin' the Halloween shirts

that their Grandma Case sent them.

This is our first successful picture of all three kids.

I should note that Baylor attempted to push

his baby sister off of his lap when he decided he was done.

Charlotte, wearing one of the new (and frivolous)

sweater outfits I found for her last week.

The bow and Robeez are courtesy of her Gamma.

Baylor loves his sister.

Hurrah for hooded baby sweaters!

Hurrah for smiling babies!

Not Me! Monday

If you enjoy keeping up with the blog My Charming Kids as much as I do, then you understand how cathartic an experience Not Me! Monday can be. I've held off on participating as long as possible, just because I didn't want to admit to my imperfections, but today a sprit of confession is permeating my being. So here goes:

• I did not decide to reward Baylor and Jack with processed chicken parts from McDonald's just for not being traumatized by the church nursery (which is normally the case). I did not compromise our strict envelope budgeting system by "borrowing" from the Christmas Savings envelope just to buy said chicken parts. Incidentally, Jack and Baylor did not show their appreciation for my compromise of values by throwing their nuggets on the ground.

• I did not eat the rest of their nuggets, smothered in Ranch dressing, thereby making all efforts to lose the weight of three babies null and void.

• I did not let my baby girl sleep in bed with me, instead of making her fuss herself to sleep on her own, just so I could get a twenty minute nap.

• I did not take the Lord's name in vain ("Oh, dear God in heaven!") after finding that the third kid in an hour had had an explosively poopy diaper. 

• I did not take great pains to plan my anemic wardrobe to my advantage during Homecoming weekend just so my friends wouldn't think I looked fat and housewifely after having so many kids in so little time. I was not a little bit miffed when, instead of commenting on my good looks, they instead lavished all of their attention on my children.

• I did not argue with my husband when he suggested I donate the dozen homemade apple cinnamon muffins I had baked to our friends, who were hosting almost 20 people for Homecoming, instead of just keeping the muffins for ourselves. I did not win that argument and proceed to eat most of the muffins myself.

• I did not pressure our friends who were visiting for Homecoming to start having children of their own just so that, in future years, we wouldn't be the only ones constricted by naptimes, nursing, and temper tantrums.

• I did not "forget" to call back a friend just because I don't have the energy to catch up on the phone and would rather selfishly use my slivers of free time to read and waste time on the internet.

• I did not fail to notice that my roving toddlers were eating mystery scraps from the trash and toting around dirty diapers because I was completely immersed in reading my vampire love saga.

• I did not pretend that the baby was still nursing, even though she had in fact fallen asleep, just so I could get out of cleaning the kitchen and bathing the boys.

• I did not use up Charlotte's precious envelope of Baby Money on frivolous baby girl clothes. I did not then discover another forgotten drawer of baby girl clothing in her dresser only after cutting off the new clothing's tags and washing the new clothes.

• I did not refuse to give up the one cup of coffee I drink each morning, even though that small amount of caffeine may be what is causing Charlotte's colic. I do not justify this decision by maintaining that I might go completely insane if I don't at least have that small comfort every day. I am not a Drama Queen.

• I did not stand on my front porch and loudly threaten harmless woodland creatures with death via shotgun shells for doing what comes naturally to them, i.e., hollowing out my festive outdoor pumpkins in order to extract the delectable seeds. I did not then sneak a furtive glance at my neighbors' houses to make sure no one had heard me yelling at squirrels.

• I did not whisper through most of yesterday's church service with my mother. Much of our conversation did not center around what new stores are opening in our area in coming weeks. I did not then completely ignore the sermon and instead launch into a daydream of how I could earn extra money in order to buy as many Christmas decorations as possible from the new Hobby Lobby opening on November 3rd.

That about does it for the cleansing and purging of my soul this week. Tune in next week for more confessions and for an honest glimpse into how I function on a daily basis!

Last Fall...

I was looking through our photos, and I got all sappy and nostalgic when I happened across pictures of Baylor and Jack from last fall. A year ago they were such babies!

Baylor in his makeshift Halloween costume,

waiting for Wednesday meal at church.

The large black worm at his shoulder is his "tail"--

a black trouser sock stuffed with batting.

Oh, Jack, you make my heart break.

Candice and Baylor at the pumpkin patch.

Stephen and Jack at the pumpkin patch.

(When were our children such baldies?)

Proof That the Squirrels Are Out to Ruin My Fall Spirit

Entertainment

So we are...what, about 2 weeks without a television now? And we seem to be surviving, nay, thriving. The entertainment armoire, TV, and DVD player are now hiding in our cavernous basement, awaiting the day when we decide just what in the heck we are going to do with them. Don't worry, it's not a basement that invites the occasional sneak-down to catch a movie--it's unfinished, cold, and leaky, and it smells like dogs. In place of the armoire we have set up one of my most-hated furniture pieces, a cheap bookshelf, bought at Target when first married, that threatens to collapse at any moment. I kind of hope it does collapse so that I have reason to buy two smaller bookshelves that match our others to replace it. For now this bookshelf houses our yearbooks, iPod docking station, record albums, and record player, with a couple empty shelves on top until I rearrange books to fit up there. (Actually, it's so rickety that I'm a little afraid to put too much weight on top.)

Yes, our record player and albums. Three Christmases ago, when Stephen and I had excessive amounts of money with which to lavish crazy gifts on one another, he bought me a record player, and we are especially enjoying its benefits now, when music is one of our only entertainment options. (Of course we also read like crazy--silly you, don't you know us?!) One of the many benefits of owning a record player is that you can find all kinds of albums for next-to-nothing. Sure, we own a few contemporary albums that were just as expensive as a CD, but for the music we love that isn't new, we scour garage sales, antique sales, and our parents' basements. Thus, we have a lovely collection of classical overtures, 70s folk and rock, Broadway musicals, Frank Sinatra, and holiday orchestrations.

As I write this, the boys and I are jamming out to Fiddler on the Roof. Seriously, they love it. I can't get "Tradition" out of my head, and Stephen and I are starting to identify more and more with the Papas and the Mamas, although I don't know how kosher my home is. Last night I dreamt about Professor Higgins and Eliza Doolittle, and we have taken a family vote and decided that really, we don't care for Cats. I can't wait for November, when I will allow myself the deep joy of pulling out the Christmas albums and singing along to their scratchy refrains. I will, of course, also enjoy the distress this causes my husband, a purist who believes Christmas music should only be listened to between Thanksgiving and December 26th.

So how 1940s can you get? We are living without a television, without a constant babble of noise and media, and we are thriving. We listen to record albums, read books, and occasionally remember to talk to one another. When it's time to feed the baby (which happens at least every two hours, if not more often), I don't automatically reach for the channel changer; instead, I reach for Eldest, which I am rereading while (im)patiently waiting for Candice to finish Breaking Dawn. Stephen has an entire top shelf of his own on the rickety bookcase dedicated to the many tomes he is reading at the moment, and the boys' books are forever strewn about the house instead of stacked neatly on the bottom shelf of the coffee table. When Jack and Baylor visit their Gamma and Gampa, they don't automatically head for the TV. Instead, they automatically head to the collection of books my mom keeps for them.

I don't mean to post this to brag about our great sacrifice or to judge others for having a television. Shoot, I love watching it as much as the next guy and jump at the chance outside of my own home. I just want to express how freed we feel, how totally unshackled, just by disconnecting the cable and moving the TV out of sight.

And if watching your little boys groove to the strains of "Sunrise, Sunset" isn't entertainment, then I don't know what is.

Irrational Fears

Here are just a few things that my boys have been afraid of during their short 19 months here on Earth:

• bubble baths

• baths at their grandparents' houses

• mittens (This is their newest fear and by far their weirdest.)

• Thomas the Tank Engine

• the vacuum cleaner (Strange when you consider how they were first fascinated by it and would climb on it as I was vacuuming--now they run in mortal terror.)

• men with beards, particularly their grandpas

• the Swiffer Sweeper Vac

• the Swiffer Wet Mop

• the plain old, noiseless Swiffer

• the plush cow that plays "Old MacDonald"

• sweatshirts

• the warthog at the petting zoo

• the scales at the pediatrician's office

Conversely, here are some things of which they are not afraid:

• loud traffic

• mean, hissing geese

• viciously barking dogs

• the llama at the petting zoo

• ghouls who jump out and try to scare you in the corn maze

• the steep edge of the couch/curb/deck/stairway

• swarms of ants

• dead bugs

• thunderstorms

I love you, Baylor and Jack, especially when you keep me guessing!

Up and Running!

I'm back and feelin' better than ever! Really, I mean it. The internet is back after a two-week hiatus, and the cold that has held such dominion over our little family is starting to loosen its grip. I don't think I have blown my nose in at least an hour, and that's saying a lot, believe me.

So it's been a busy two weeks, with intermittent postings from me when I could find the internet and the time to post. Our faculty retreat was great, though perhaps not as restful as possible. We did get the two-hour nap we were hoping for on Saturday and Stephen managed to skip out on the last session Sunday morning and get in another long nap, so maybe we got in as much sleep for which we should have reasonably hoped. (Who's reasonable with three kids under the age of 2??) I have finished the third book in the Twilight series and am now impatiently waiting for Candice to finish the fourth so I can devour (Haha! Vampire love saga, remember?) that one, too. Good thing I have the ONU Homecoming this weekend to distract me, or I might drive her to violence with my impatience.

What else? Jack's ear is perfectly fine and the scar is hardly noticeable. His biggest issue the last week has been a sinus infection that drove his normally easy-going disposition to the brink of despair. (Ditto on the sinus infection for Baylor. Last winter we had six ear infections each in a four month span, so while trying, this was nothing by comparison.) Baylor has been giving into temper tantrums lately and hits inanimate objects when he is mad. When he hits said inanimate objects (baby swing, coffee table, etc.) he always peers at me to see if I'll give him some attention, negative or otherwise. I am usually just ducking my head, trying to keep from laughing. My little babies are growing up so much, and I now suddenly find myself with two rambunctious toddlers who are wearing 18 month and 2T-sized clothing. Sigh, sigh, sigh. At least I have my little baby girl doll to dress up every day. At least she doesn't take advantage of Mom's distraction and get into the kitchen trash can to eat old coffee grounds and parade around with dirty diapers...

On that note, I will fill you in with pictures and a few words. Enjoy!

Baylor explores the playhouse that Grandpa and Daddy

saved from certain destruction.

Jack plans on using this windowsill to cool homemade pies.

New framed photos in the living room!

The boys love looking at themselves and the baby.

My Grammy, Lois Ring, came to visit with her sister last week.

She loves these boys and spoils them rotten.

Grammy and Baylor

Aunt Norma Jean and Charlotte, her great-great niece.

Charlotte and Daddy being silly with shapes.

Retreat

I am writing from the lobby of the Lombard, Illinois Westin Hotel, where we are spending the weekend for Olivet's annual Faculty Retreat. It is a lovely tradition that has forced us to get away from 2/3 of the kids (Charlotte, of course, has to tag along this year) and concentrate on getting to know fellow faculty members and sleeping as much as possible. So far the "sleeping as much as possible" part isn't really working out--Miss Charlotte had us up until past 1 o'clock this morning (Steve walked on the treadmill in the fitness center with her harnessed to his chest in an attempt to lull her to sleep). She then woke up again at 4 AM and decided it was party time until she conked out an hour later. Imagine my frustration when I woke up at 6:30, a half hour before my alarm was set to go off, unable to sleep because of a coughing fit that was sure to wake up my dear, sleeping husband and fussy baby. We are understandably exhausted, so I will make this entry short so that I can join the other two Cases upstairs for a (hopefully) long afternoon nap.

This retreat was our saving grace, as it's been another challenging week. Remember last week, what with the colds and the stitches and all? Well, it was basically another repeat this week, sans the stitches. The colds have refused to relent, infecting all of us but Charlotte. The sickness situation became critical when the boys refused to sleep for two days in a row--no naps, no nighttime sleeping, nothing. Something was wrong, and that something turned out to be double sinus infections (creeping into an ear infection in Jack's case), which the doctor diagnosed yesterday, Friday, a few hours before we were set to leave for this retreat. We got them antibiotics ASAP and left them in my sister and brother-in-law's capable hands, practically skipping out of the house and peeling away from the curb. It's not that we don't love our boys, it's just that we don't love how they act when they are sick. Imagine a cranky, irritable, sick toddler, multiply it by two, add a colicky baby and two non-functioning, also-sick adults... and throw all that mix into a cold, rainy setting. Disaster ensues if not for the escape of a retreat. Believe me, despite our lack of sleep last night, we are so thankful for the break.

This is kind of depressing, no? Maybe if I get a nap this afternoon I will have a less bleak outlook. Also, if I get out this afternoon after a long and fruitful nap, perhaps I will have more to write about other than what happens at home! I should inform you, dear readers, that on Friday I successfully managed to get the three kids fed, cleaned, clothed, out of the door, to the doctor's office, and back home, all in one piece and with a fully stocked diaper bag. At the doctor's office I held off the tears (on the twins' parts) by distracting them with fun books, and the baby only started crying when we were a few blocks from home. There is a God, and He displays His grace and mercy to me daily.

When It Rains...

I'm posting during a quick window of opportunity at my mom's house, where I am always sure to have such windows as there are plenty of people available to entertain toddlers and hold babies. We are still without internet at our house and will be until probably Wednesday. It's been hard to go without TV and the internet, but as you can witness, I am surviving. I was thriving, rather than just surviving, until a couple days ago, when I finished the second book of Stephenie Meyer's Twilight series. Yes, there is a third, but I have to wait to read it until Candice finishes our shared copy, borrowed from a friend of Mom's--we have to do this because our library can't keep them in stock. So I have poured over my latest issue of Home magazine roughly sixteen times in an attempt to keep myself from going crazy. I should note here that Candice and I are thrilled (sarcasm) that the Twilight books are described as a "vampire love saga" in the book jackets. Yes, there are vampires, yes, there is romance, yes, it's a series--but a "vampire love saga"??

Ah, yes, the title of this post. Well, suffice to say, it's been a crazy week. Last Wednesday Baylor woke up with the mother of all colds, and he about fell to pieces. Baylor tends to be just slightly dramatic, and so things like colds or teeth or changes in routine completely throw him for a loop. By Thursday, what with Baylor not sleeping for two nights in a row and Charlotte waking up with colic at 1 and 3 AM, all hell had broken loose--and then Jack split open the back of his earlobe on the corner of the coffee table. Stephen ran home from work and I ran Jack to the ER, where he received four bee-yoo-ti-ful stitches in his precious fat baby lobe. He was an absolute trooper who earned many accolades of praise from the doctor and nurses. One nurse even offered him a sucker, and when he just stared at it and instead chose his sippy cup over the candy, I had to explain to her that he didn't even know what a sucker was. What a kid!

So, that was traumatic. By Friday both Jack and I had caught the dreaded cold (which, I assure you, is a doozy, complete with muscle aches and chills), and we were canceling previous engagements left and right. Well, I make it sound like we have a raging social life, when in actuality we only had to cancel dinner with friends Friday night and apple-picking with other friends Sunday afternoon. So Friday night dinner was canceled, we technically had no money for pizza but no energy (or groceries) for anything else, and Baylor was having a collapse-on-the-floor-in-a-boneless-fashion hissy fit because he couldn't breathe. Stephen took Baylor outside to calm him down and, by his account, looked up to the sky and asked the Lord for aid because we were falling to pieces. When he came back inside we started to look at pizza coupons, and then the doorbell rang. Our friends the Algers, who are in our Sunday School class, walked into our home and handed us lasagna and a salad, completely and unexpectedly fulfilling Stephen's request to God.

God is good, all the time. All the time, God is good.

In closing, I'd like to very proudly announce that my husband, already a published author of poetry, essays, and newspaper columns, has just had his first short story published! Titled The Glorious Revolution, you'll find it here at Ray Gun Revival, an online publication of science fiction writings. Scroll to page 22 to read Stephen's story. I am convinced this is just the beginning.

Things are looking up.

Going Native...er, Unplugged

The Case Family has made a very important and monumental decision: as of sometime this morning (whenever the Comcast guy decides to show up), we will be completely without television. Not only are we cutting off the cable, we are going to move the TV down to the (unfinished) basement, where it will await final judgment.

This is a pretty drastic decision, I know. I would be the first person to say that we really don't watch that much television, at least in comparison to "most" people. But lately my convictions have been flaring up, and the Holy Spirit has drawn my attention to things I have let myself become desensitized to. Things like bad words, compromising situations, and lots and lots of sex. I was able to brush these things off for too long, tell myself that it didn't matter, I was above the influence of these things. But then my children began to be much, much more perceptive, and I found myself switching the channel too often when they were around. Even if I were just watching the morning news, invariably a commercial for another show on a cable network would appear, flaunting nudity, rudeness, and just general crass behavior. How was I to know what words and attitudes Baylor, Jack, and Charlotte would catch on to and choose to mimic?

What is a mother to do?

I made my proposal to Stephen late last week, and he jumped on the bandwagon. He has been gunning for this for a long time, but I admit I was the holdout. So we'll see just how we fare without our "Sesame Street," news, and evening comedies. And I'll see how I do without the internet for a few hours, as there is going to be a lapse between the cable shut-off and the AT&T hook-up.

Our Full Weekend

We have had a wonderfully full and fun weekend! Stephen's folks, Laurie and Bill, came to visit, and we all enjoyed some great time together and with my family. Enjoy our highlights!

Grandpa Case and his baby girl.

Mr. Serious Baylor picking out pumpkins at Vana's Pumpkinland.

Which one will Jack choose?

Later we visited a playground, where Baylor got stuck

at the bottom of a slide.

I really enjoy this picture of my mother-in-law.

All dressed up on Sunday morning, waiting on the girls.

Charlotte posing in her baptism outfit.

(The shoes were mine when I was dedicated as a baby.)

So lovely!

Pastor Heck baptizes Charlotte.

Later Sunday afternoon, the Olivet Science Department

hosted a baby shower for Charlotte. So busy!

My mom and sister came with gifts for all three kids.

Resting up with Daddy after a busy, busy weekend.

Some Funny Things

• We are looking at switching to AT&T (more on that in the future), and I was delighted to see on their website that they offer "Polish Customer Service." Hurrah for the Chicago area!

• In the middle of the night last night Stephen touched my shoulder and softly murmured, "I gave you three." My response: "Huh?" Again: "I gave you three." Then, "No, I gave you four." I have no idea what was going on.

• Yesterday I had two massively explosive diapers in less than 20 minutes: one from Charlotte (ruined an outfit!) and one from Baylor. And Jack's was very nearly explosive. I have no idea what disagreed with those boys, and I really thought those days were over with them. Luckily the crib sheet and mattress pad were saved.

• Jack is inexplicably terrified of a plush cow that attaches to the bouncy seat and plays "Old MacDonald" when its plastic cord is pulled. Honestly, if that cow is pulled and he hears that tune, he screams and breaks into inconsolable tears. I am mystified. The cow now resides in a hidden location.

• See, this is mystifying because, ordinarily, both boys adore cows. They LOVE cows. They point at any and all cows they see anywhere and make the cow noise, which is not that far away from being "mooooo." Maybe he just hates that song.

• Sorry for all the gas references, but it's pretty funny that Baylor giggles crazily when his little sister lets out big belches.

• Also funny is Jack's new dance move: bend at the waist and wiggle your bottom, all the while keeping your legs as still and straight as possible.

• NOT funny is how The Office was preempted by the vice presidential candidate debate. I am sorry, I am having a really hard time getting excited about voting this fall. I will vote because I believe it is one of the most important things I can do, and I will eventually succumb to choosing a candidate (it's so easy to know for whom I will not vote), but for now I am just really annoyed by everything political, especially when it keeps me from enjoying the one and only show I keep up with. Perhaps this is because the election is all I have heard about for the last 18 months.

• All I ask for from Jack and Baylor is just the tiniest bit of privacy from time to time, especially when I take the rare (and short) bathroom break. Baylor thinks that is it hilarious that I run away and shut the door, and he does everything he can to open the door, barge on in, and watch me. This is ludicrously easy for him to accomplish, as our doors are sixty years old and don't exactly latch all the way. Also, the boys are very aware of what doorknobs do and are just getting tall enough to reach them.

• I only take these breaks when I think they are otherwise engaged, ie, in the other room playing and singing to themselves, unable to see me. Haha, Mom, the joke's on you.

• Last note on the whole bathroom issue: I do at least make the most of my interruptions by having Baylor stand near the toilet as I explain what "flushing" and "washing" are. He is very proficient at standing at the commode and waving bye-bye to the potty. No luck yet on getting him interested in going through the whole process himself.

• Baylor cried this morning when he saw me putting his favorite sweatshirt away in his closet. (He was in his footie pajamas at the time.) How dare I not let him wear 18 layers of winter clothing at all times!

• I want to cry when I think about giving Charlotte one of the boys' cribs and moving them into the two twin beds (with guardrails, of course.) This won't happen for awhile, as she still wakes up so much in the night and I have no desire to trek upstairs that often, but still, I want to break into tears when I think of my little baby boys sleeping in big boy beds. Stephen thinks I am crazy.

• When we were slightly younger and I was much skinnier, Stephen and I had to sleep together in a twin bed on a couple occasions. We thought it was snuggly and special. Now I would rather sleep on the floor than do this. I need my space! Ah, the honeymoon is over.

• I don't really have one grand, over-arching funny thing to close this with. I'll just close with a word snapshot of our upcoming weekend: visiting grandparents; picking pumpkins; gathering family; baptizing baby; showering (with presents) baby; and resting family.

Have a fall-filled weekend!

Fall Activities and Theological Leanings

I'll open with a few shots from a Charlotte photo shoot yesterday:

Her smiles are intentional now, I assure you.

I love this little dress.

I just love her!

Yes, I do love her, despite the fact that she suffered from colic literally all day long yesterday. I had one ten-minute break in the afternoon, about 45 minutes of peace at dinner, and was saved a massive headache that evening only because the kids and I were at my folks' house and there were plenty of other people to get her through the fussiness. It's difficult, but I keep reminding myself that, hey, she's already a month old--not much longer! I hate to wish away these first few precious weeks just because of colic, but I am very ready to just enjoy a burbly, non-gassy baby. So far the gripe water recommended by her pediatrician on Monday (she weighed in at 9 lbs., 9 oz.--did I already post that?) hasn't done too much for the colic, but it does miraculously cure the frequent hiccup spells she contracts. Fun fun fun!

Besides the colic, things have been fairly pleasant and manageable this week. Autumn has arrived in full force. Point in fact: Saturday we were suffering at the Apple and Pork Festival in 85 degree+ heat; today, four days later, the high is 59 and I wish I had retrieved my slippers from our room before Charlotte went down for her nap. I am so thrilled to be back in the Midwest where fall actually means a seasonal change; in Mississippi, it was really just a continuation of summer with a few hurricanes thrown in for good measure. We are penciling in as many autumnal activities as we can this month. When I say "we," I mean "I," since Stephen outwardly rolls his eyes and scoffs as such trivialities as corn mazes, costume parties, and pumpkin picking. Inwardly he is as giddy as a child; he just wants to maintain the cool professorial persona he has so carefully crafted for himself. (I probably don't help this whole charade. Yesterday he showed me his picture which is used on the Department of Physical Science's faculty page and I told him he looked 12 years old in it.) Among the many activities we have planned: pumpkin shopping at Vana's Pumpkinland this weekend; a fall festival hosted by the School of Graduate and Adult Studies, which we can attend since my dad is employed by the grad school; buying apple cider and pumpkin bread at the Kankakee Farmer's Market; and a costume festival hosted by the Kankakee Valley Park District. The costume festival is free if you come dressed up, so all of us (as in my folks, my sister and brother-in-law, the kids, and me--Steve has a planetarium show) are planning on making very homemade and probably slightly ghetto superhero outfits, since we are too cheap to pay the $3 admittance fee to wander in a corn maze, drink apple cider, and gorge ourselves on free candy.

I love fall!

Today my wonderful husband took a few hours off of work (almost the whole day--don't worry, he can do that from time-to-time, as professors are evidently above the law) so that I could get my hair cut and shop for some fall clothing. After being pregnant twice in under two years, my body is slightly off-kilter and my wardrobe is more than slightly pathetic. I literally have one pair of jeans and three long-sleeve shirts, and that is it. No sweaters, no dress pants, nothing else but some sweatshirts. So today I headed over to Sequels, my favorite resale shop in town, and hunted through the tons of clothing. I don't want to invest too much in clothing, especially pants, as I plan on (ha!) working at losing the baby weight (no, make that three-babies weight) and possibly fitting back into a size 4. Right now I can only manage a size I-am-never-confessing-and-Stephen-sure-as-heck-better-keep-his-fat-mouth-shut, which is fairly depressing. Unfortunately, I was disappointed in the selection this time, which doesn't often happen. Maybe my experience was soured by the harsh florescent lighting of the dressing room which only served to draw my horrified eyes to several new stretch marks on my wounded body. I did find a pair of pants, which is better than nothing, and my haircut was wonderful (Kim has to thin my hair so much, I swear I lose ten pounds every time I get my hair cut), so the day was salvaged and Stephen's sacrifices were not in vain.

At this juncture in the blog I'd like to give a shout-out to my Sunday School class, Starting Points, a young marrieds class at Kankakee First Church of the Nazarene. We started attending this class at the end of last semester after not having participated in Sunday School since the boys were born. I really needed the peer interaction, even for just an hour each week, and we have been welcomed in with open arms by these loving young couples. Some have kids and some don't, all have been married about three years or less (or are engaged), and all come from different backgrounds and bring different opinions and experiences to the table. Kathy Heck, our pastor's wife, teaches the class, and she brings grace and wisdom to the discussion every week. I am especially fond of our class this week as they have put together a meal sign-up for our family for two weeks, due to the new addition to our brood. We have eaten well for a week and a half, more than I can say would happen if we couldn't take advantage of such a ministry, and everyone who has prepared and brought us food has been positive, kind, and eager to help. Stephen and I are huge proponents of Christians working to care for one another in a communal way, and too often this is a lost art in a church the size of ours. What an amazing realization of the body of Christ!

In that vein, I am proud to announce that Miss Charlotte Anne will be baptized into said body of Christ this coming Sunday, October 5th, in our church's 10:30 morning service. If you are able, come share in this time with us. We have chosen infant baptism for all three of our children, and I know a lot of people from Nazarene backgrounds similar to ours are confused, as often Nazarenes tend to choose dedication for infants. Both are accepted and practiced by the Church of the Nazarene, and we choose baptism over dedication mainly from a historical standpoint. Yes, just as in dedication, we are making the choice of Christianity for our children for the time being, welcoming them into the Church, and we recognize that baptism now does not act as a substitute for their personal choice to accept Christ as Savior later on. But we believe in an emphasis on the Church Universal instead of just focusing on the Church local or denominational, and baptism is a sacrament recognized by the Church Universal since its inception. We want our children to understand that they are a part of the most powerful movement in the universe, and we believe baptism is a fantastic way of teaching them of their connection to all other Christians worldwide. I'm sure Stephen could wax eloquent on this subject for much longer, but I believe that is an adequate summation of our thoughts on infant baptism.

Anyway, even if you don't necessarily agree with our reasons, come to at least see Charlotte dressed in a frilly, feminine white dress while she screams after getting water poured on her head. All of our family, including Stephen's parents, are joining in celebration with us. My only concern is wrangling the boys in service long enough to get through the baptism!

Wow, this post has really run the gamut. I should stop on that theologically thought-provoking note before I digress into a motherly discussion of baby poop or temper tantrums. Leave me a comment and let me know your thoughts on infant baptism. I'm always curious as to how people feel on this issue.