The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

I had the immense privilege of being given the gift of wonder and imagination in my home as I grew up. I'm certain it's because of that freedom that my parents gifted my brothers and I that I revel in all things festive. Christmas is filed under magic, joy, giving, sparkle, music, tradition and abundance in my childhood memory-banks and as I'm getting older and now have the privilege of creating memories for my children, I'm unrelentingly thankful that I have those files to pull from.

Elias is two and his everyday life is full of discovery and wonder because of the very nature of a two-year-old soul. This makes for a very magical Christmas season as we're introducing him to new family traditions and festivities. He's learning bits and pieces of the original Christmas story as well, and happily chatters about the "Jesus house," (stable) he learned about in his storybook bible. Another thing that's warming my heart lately.

This is Maddox's first Christmas--special and celebratory in a whole other way. We're still 21 days away from Christmas morning (of course we're counting) and we've already had an incredibly special month.

Brotherly love by the choo-choo at Christmas Knoll Tree Farm

Hot cocoa!

Bundled up and ready to go!

The boys helping decorate the house.

Halloween 2011

For Halloween 2011 we had a little bumblebee (look familiar?) and a penguin. Elias has a penguin super beanie that has flippers that act as a scarf extension that he loves, so we made him a little white penguin chest and orange flipper feet to go with it and called it good! I love any excuse to wear a costume so Halloween is one of my favorite holidays. I'm so excited that my kids are getting excited about it too! This year was like Intro to Halloween 101. I'm excited for Halloween 201 next year!

I could not get this kid to hold still long enough for photos once costumes were on. These are the nudie, pre-costume shots.

I may not ever get actual photos of them...they're too fast and too mobile! I settle for candids.

Toys to Mozambique

Logan has recently partnered with an incredible organization that is changing the world. Food for the Hungry is touching the lives of our world's most neglected and most forgotten and they've let us partner with them in changing the world--thus being changed in the process. As Logan travels and shares his music, he also shares Food for the Hungry's vision of eradicating world hunger through supporting entire communities with clean water, shelter, education, and so much more. He offers concert goers a chance to sponsor a child. A chance to, for a dollar a day, support an entire community of people and send a message to an impoverished child that they are worth something. That someone, somewhere is thinking of them. Loving them, both emotionally and tangibly. Our family recently chose a child to sponsor to ensure that we were walking what we were teaching and experiencing and participating in the changes and the vision that FH is making and casting.

I need my boys to know about our world. About the injustice that they're charged with facing and fixing in the name of Jesus if they choose to follow Him. I want them to grow up with the largest world-view I can offer them. So, I took the picture of the little six-year-old boy from Mozambique that our family is now supporting to try and explain "child sponsorship" in two-year-old language to Elias. I told him how there are kids who live far away that don't have clean water to drink, or snacks all the time, or toys. I told him some of those kids don't have mommies and daddies and they don't have houses like us. I told him how God loves them like He loves him. My precious Elias studied that photo of the little African boy and said astutely, "Sad." True. He does look heart-wrenchingly sad. I recapped what I had just said about him not having everything that Elias does. "No toys?!" Elias exclaimed in disbelief. He hopped off the couch, toting the picture with him and heading for the door, saying, "I go. I go. Give toys, wa-wa, yummies. Make happy! Make happy! I go! I go! I go on plane! Make happy!"

My mommy heart grew and nearly exploded. I was shocked and impressed that he had understood, but more importantly, the answer was so easy for him. He heard of an injustice that his sweet little soul just had to make right and he was certain he could do it. He wasn't bogged down with the cost of plane tickets or the dangers of going into a place like Mozambique. He didn't mentally defer the responsibility of being change to someone else. He just knew that a boy without food or water, or toys for goodness sake, needed help. So he set out toward my front door at age two with nothing but a sad photo of a little boy he's never met, to ensure that that little boy knew love. Tears pour down my face now as I type this because the child-like faith that we're all called to as adults was raw and real in my living room. It convicted me that day. And the compassion and fearlessness in my little boy inspired me. Thank God for my kids, in all the ways that they challenge and inspire me every day of their young lives.

We are only limited by our own lack of faith and imagination. Children are champions of both. It reminds me (with a huge, metaphorical slap in the face) that there's a reason we're told to have "faith like a child." Oh, the things we could accomplish if we all had faith that size! I'm storing that moment with Elias up in my heart and locking it down with all the force I have because I don't ever want to forget his words; because every time I'm challenged to be the hands and feet of Jesus in this world, before He returns to make all things right, I want to hear my son saying "I go! I go!" I will go. Will you?

If you are interested in finding out more about FH and/or child sponsorship, please visit their site: www.fh.org.

All Aboard the Dinosaur Train!...and Happy Birthday, Elias.

Elias is 2! Both in year and attitude. He is fascinated by the PBS Kids show, Dinosaur Train and chose that as his party theme when given multiple options. So, Dinosaur Train it was! We kept this little shindig small, with just his cousins, grandparents and best little buddies Caleb and Samaria. He told me for about a month that his birthday needed "Cake! Presents! Balloons! Sam at my house!" Thanks to fickle Oregon weather, we didn't get to have the party outside like I had hoped and planned (cold, wind, rain on June 18th? Really, Oregon?) so we had to go to plan...C, I think it was, and make due inside. The good news is that I was able to deliver cake, presents, balloons (Dinosaur Train themed nonetheless...thank you, eBay) and Sam at his house (thanks Kara!).

Cupcakes integrated with the Dinosaur Train=perfect (and easy) Dinosaur Train Cake.

How lucky am I that I have such a talented and creative husband who is fully invested in my children's lives...to the point that he happily comes alongside his crazy, birthday-party-obsessed wife to create fabulous cakes (and so much more) for our kids.

You should know 2 things: 1) He looks exhausted and ill because he is a horrific allergy sufferer like his Daddy, 2) For some inexplicable reason he chose to use the dinosaur topper off his cupcake as a utensil to eat the cupcake with.

Once the cupcakes were devoured, the train was free to be played with with his buddy, Sam.

The kids got dinosaur masks in their goodie bags and cousin Bryce was kind enough to model one.

Goodbye & Hello, baby

It has happened--my due date is near. I don't know where all nine months of my pregnancy went, but suddenly I have a hospital bag (mostly packed) and an infant car seat (not installed but available) sitting on my landing. I'm due February 9, I'm refusing to carry that long, but with a husband out of town until January 31, I can only hope to be slightly early. I've politely told God and my unborn child that if his appearance could be February 2 that would be ideal for me.

In all the excitement and anticipation of having another baby everything has been a push to be "ready" for him: all necessary equipment purchased or borrowed, moving Elias out of his crib to make space for the next little one, finishing house projects, etcetera...and now with most of my "to do" list scratched off, I was hit with a deep form of panicked sadness. Suddenly the birth of another baby in my house, in my life, in my heart meant somehow that I get less of Elias. Perhaps that's not entirely true, but it's my feeling and my fear for now. Somehow, during the passing of these nine months my first baby has become a little boy. He's talking back to me and playing monster trucks. He's potty trained and sleeping in a big boy bed (ok, this is still a transition, but nevertheless...). He's testing boundaries and pushing his independence...and I'm praying that I didn't miss the transition to this place in my mad rush to be "ready." When he took my finger in his sweet little hand to walk downstairs to bed last night I felt irreparably torn: how do I share? I don't know how to share myself with another one who needs me just as much. I can't shake the feeling that sharing me with another child equals missing out on things with Elias. He's been my only focus and the reason I do everything I do every day for the last 21 months. The fear in this change has never been so palpable for me as it is now, in these final days of our one on one time. I'm desperately trying to absorb every moment we spend together these days, even when he has me exhausted and frustrated. I want to take mental pictures of who he is right now and hold onto him forever because I feel (perhaps illogically) as though I'm saying goodbye to him in welcoming his brother. I don't even have a nice wrap-up for these thoughts and fears because I'm still very much wrestling with them. So, this is me, signing off from my place of illogical fear and looming unpredictable change. Thanks for hearing my crazed mother's heart.

30-Pound Linebacker

Elias and I went to the library today for story time, a sweet 30 minutes of toddlers bouncing off of one another like particles in a microwave through stories and songs with hand motions. Elias always tries to climb into the story-teller's lap--he's always rejected. Too many kids, not enough laps. The "event" of this morning, however, did not happen during story time. It happened afterward in the activity room. The theme this month is "Things that Go"--an entire room full of cars, airplanes, helicopters, cars, and cars...it's my son's dream space.

A little necessary backstory: I worry about my son. I worry because in all his little classrooms: at church and at our mommy group, he's the biggest kid in his class, hands down. He is usually about four inches taller and packing a good amount more girth than every other child his age, so he seems to have acquired a bit of a giant's complex. He rules the room with an iron fist. He takes toys from smaller more unsuspecting children and they wisely don't fight back. Most stand in shock and move on after some consideration, only the brave (or excessively tir

ed) dare to cry in his wake. I've found myself sadistically hoping that he'd try something like that on an older, bigger kid so that maybe some kid justice could prevail and he'd be taught a lesson the natural way. I hope this because no amount of chastising from me has steeped his giant's complex. So, as terrible as it sounds, I've been lying in wait for the moment that a two

or three-year-old teaches my son what I have been unable to: bullying is not nice! I thought my moment had come today. I was wrong.

Elias was happily playing with some match-box cars on a table with a pretty elaborate road set up on it. He was, of course, playing with the red car because all red cars are Lightning McQueen from Pixar's Cars. He'd been successfully fending other kids off of the fake McQueen for over 20 minutes when a bigger, older kid approached to dethrone him. Big Older Kid had another thing coming. Big Older Kid snatched the car from Elias and turned to run only to be fully tackled from behind, arms wrapped around him in a vice, and taken to the ground like a trained linebacker. One Tarzan-like yell and my son took down a three-year-old little boy who was a whole head taller than him.

I fear that had I not wrenched him off of Big Older Kid, he may have stood on top of him beating his chest and declaring himself King of the Mountain...or the playroom. All hyperbole aside, mothers gasped and froze who witnessed my child attack and destroy the McQueen thief and I have no idea what I did or said to Elias, I only know that we left. Right then and there. We were out, fast as Lightning McQueen himself.

So now what? Kid justice failed and my son still thinks he runs the world. He seems only to know Elias justice, no matter what I do. On the way home I was suddenly reminded of the prayers I prayed over him when he was in the womb: for strength, and leadership, and fearlessness. Today, I can't for the life of me remember if I added any clauses in that included wisdom or compassion. Strike one, Mom.

Halfway home I turned around and my heavy-eyed little boy blew me a kiss and smiled impishly from his carseat. Another calculated move. Well executed, son. You still have my heart, even if you have gotten us banned from the library playroom.

Lost and not-yet Found

My son has hidden his tennis shoes. He's done a fine job of it too, because they have been unfindable for four days now. I'm a relatively intelligent adult and I have no idea where he's placed them. I'm beginning to understand that this may have been entirely intentional. I saw him go downstairs with them one day and come back up without them. I assumed that he'd "put them to bed" because this is what he does with most everything else. He hurls things like stuffed animals, race cars, sippy cups and all articles of clothing from his top drawer over the side of his crib, laying them to rest in heaps like a tiny junkyard--thereby "putting them to bed." His shoes never went to bed. They didn't go to the book bin, or the stuffed animal box, or his dresser, or my dresser, or the bathtub, or the dryer, or the creepy closet under my stairs that smells like a nursing home no matter what I do. I've exhausted all his hiding places and come to realize that he's evolving and adapting his schemes like the velociraptors from Jurassic Park. Every time I think I'm ahead, he one-ups me. Some days it's all I can do not to be eaten alive.

Joke's on you, Elias. Now you're stuck wearing Converse AllStars in the pouring down rain. Extra socks? Check.

"Shhhhhhooooo"=Airplane

I am proud to say that my talented husband is officially touring. Elias and I delivered him and the band to PDX early Monday morning and we won't see him again until November 22. I'm thankful for two things right now: 1) Elias and I took an airplane trip to see family in S. California just a couple weeks ago, so he's familiar with the concept, 2) Elias was there to see Daddy go to the airplane. Now every day when Elias wakes up in the morning, and again when he wakes up from his nap, and again when we sit down to dinner and again when I'm tucking him in bed and he asks for his daddy, I can tell him that Daddy left on the airplane and we will go get him from the airplane when it's time. Sounds complex for a 17-month-old to wrap his mind around, but it seems to appease him most days. Now when he asks for Daddy, I can say "where is Daddy?" and he replies, "shhhhoooooo" which, for those unfamiliar with Elias-speak, is code for "airplane."

I have wonderful people who love me checking in on me with the "how are you doing?"s and the "do you need any help?"s and so far my "pretty good!"s and "no, I think we got it"s are the honest truth. I do intentional things to make time move as quickly as possible and hopefully that works for the full three weeks of husband absenteeism. I'm used to going it alone and independence has never been a sorrowful (or lonely) thing for me; what I was not prepared for was how to help my toddler "miss" someone. And not just "someone," but his very favorite "someone." He breaks my heart a little bit every morning when he calls for daddy from his crib and then has to settle for me--again.

The bright side, however, is that Logan is doing what he loves and he's serving God and people in a specific way that not many are called to do. He is so uniquely and perfectly gifted for it, too, that I can't imagine him in any other capacity. Not that he wouldn't be successful: he's one of those obnoxious folks who is good at everything they try, but I don't think anything else would fit him quite as perfectly. So, if you haven't ever had the pleasure of a Logan Martin concert, jump on his site and check out the rest of the tour dates (and a preview of one of the songs from the NEW RECORD), and if you want a laugh or to feel involved (as I SO desperately do) check out the band's video blog. And if you see him before I do, tell him that his two biggest fans couldn't be more proud of him, and we can't wait to see him.

Tour Dates

The Logan Martin Band video blog

FALLing in Love

I used to live for summer. I don't like to be cold but I do like to be outside, therefore summer equaled Erica's time of year. Not so anymore. I do adore summer time, but the older I get, the more I'm falling in love with fall. The colors in Oregon are splendid, and somehow they were lost on me until about 5 years ago. The air feels cleaner inthe fall too, crisp and fresh; it brings cider, pumpkins, hay rides, a fabulous excuse to appear in public in costume, sweet potato fries, rain boots, leaf jumping and a slew of other things that I will miss in another month or two. It's more fun now too, watching Elias discover what fall means. Fall, to Elias, now means petting zoos, picking up as many leaves from parking lots as he possibly can before we get indoors again because

maybe, just maybe, they'll be gone again when we come back out. It means going to a land of pumpkins where he gets to touch whatever he wants and even bring some pumpkins home! It means hay rides behind a tractor and it means Mommy is parking in the garage now (a whole new land to discover and explore). It means that funny looking kids show up at his door and we give away the treats that he's not allowed to eat and then these kids leave...they don't even stay to play. Having him around gives meaning

to the cliche that you learn as much from your kids as you

teach them.

Seeing him discover things makes my world new again and that's such a gift. I've always

thought of myself as a kid-at-heart, but he out-kids me every day (appropriately so, I guess) and it's refreshing.

The more often he makes me play in the dirt, take a

second look,

or run instead of walk, the better I am. Sure, life seems to speed up from the second you bring a baby home and start watching them grow...faster and faster...but maybe, if you let them, they can slow life down for you every once in a while too.

The Silver Lining

I last wrote about how the miracle that is my son had been finally dawning on me. I thought about that one a lot and I think I've come to an important truth: this is the only here and now we get. That could mean a lot of things to you depending on your story and where you're at in that story, but it's a blessing for me right now.

Elias, in the beginning of his journey, when life was at it's highest and lowest for me while I struggled to celebrate the birth of my son and mourn the loss of the healthy baby I thought I was giving birth to, was already a miracle. With every low, there was a high: "he has some birth defects, but we can work on them." "He's having surgery, but it's not nearly as extensive as we thought...we'll be done in 30 minutes." "He's not recovering properly, but we can equip you and send you home to care for him." And then as the "lows" became just regular life, suddenly there was healing and the "highs" started out-numbering the "lows": "you're right, he's urinating on his own now, you can stop catheterizing him." "He has healed perfectly and there shouldn't be further issues." And then we were only returning to the Children's Hospital once a year for check-ups and we stopped feeling like they should have given us a punch-card like the corner coffee shop does: with every nine visits, get the tenth for free (oh, if only!).

He was a miracle then. God was healing him and working in him then, and while I saw it, it was like watching a Christmas celebration from outside in the cold. The party is there; it's warm and inviting and worth smiling about, but you can't quite reach it. The pain of watching my baby hurt was still too raw and unexpected to celebrate the little victories. I missed them. Ten of them still weighed less than the one big elephant in my heart labeled UNJUST, UNHEALTHY, BETRAYAL, UNCERTAINTY...I couldn't see past that elephant most of the time. Some have elephants that are heavier, bigger, that last longer or hurt deeper. I listened to parents cry in the NICU a bed over from my son's who were not getting good news. Parents who had to hear that their baby would never fully recover. I remember that mother's face, her posture, her tears. I won't forget her. My heart hurt with her then and I still think about her now, but even in that journey I pray that as her "lows": the challenges that come with her son, become just another sound in the rhythm of what life looks like for them, that she'd rest in the little victories too. Let's make it clear: I don't pretend to believe that we all find the miracles we seek in this life. Part of this emotional journey for me these past weeks has been the overwhelming understanding that I have been, my son has been, one of the privileged.

As the cliche goes, everything is clearer in hindsight. On this side of the hurt I can say that I find myself searching desperately for the silver lining in my here-and-nows. For my sake, for my family's sake, for the sake of those still seeking their miracles. I'm trying to live in the ups, the highs, the joys as much as I can. I don't succeed every day. The days, the seasons, when the downs are easier to see than the ups can still be hard, but I think the ups are easier to find when you're looking--especially because in some stages of life, they're great at playing hard-to-get. So keep looking.

My Miracle

A woman in my life whom I truly admire recently wrote on her blog, Chasing My Miracle (thank you, Jen, from the bottom of my heart, for sharing) a little bit about her journey with her daughter. A medical journey that was longer and more severe than my Elias' but her words and memories she shared of places we frequented and feelings I felt then, in the middle of the journey, and now in the light of the reason I too, can call my Elias my miracle were stirring for me. She captured in words what I have been resting and rejoicing in during this very week. This week, as my son who was born without the ability to expel waste from his tiny body, who underwent surgeries and subsequent tests on his G.I. tract, kidneys, bladder, anus...the necessary list of medical violations and impositions goes on...this week, my son began potty training like a regular toddler. He's young and we're trying it out, not expecting success overnight, but he's physically able to do it. We were told he might not. That statement sums his journey up wonderfully. They said he might not, but he does.

As Jen relates in her blog, I so often forget about where we started because he's perfect now. I have the luxury of forgetting! I was so struck with her words because they have been my internal dialogue this past week, and every time Elias pees on the bathroom rug or points to his Pull-Up and says "Uh-oh!" after an accident I swallow tears of joy. Thank you, God, that we made it here. Thank you for my miracle.

TODAY

NICU: Doernbecher Children's Hospital, May 2009

Recovering from surgery

ANNOUNCEMENT!

ELIAS HAS AN ANNOUNCEMENT!

Little brother/sister is due to arrive February 9, 2011

First Haircut!

Our internet has been down for a while, but we're back in the game and here are some highlights:

Elias got his first official big boy haircut! It wasn't terribly traumatic, but definitely not his favorite thing...

A boy and his purse

Somehow, around age 11-12 months, my son developed an attachment to my purse. He (loudly) lost his mind when I would have to get it out in the grocery store to pay, he sought it out when we were at home, he became obsessive. So I did the only thing I could think to do and I gave it to him. I cleared everything out that I couldn't live without and it became his. It was his best friend. He took it with him everywhere, he carried it around the house, it was his pretty patent sidekick. Much to his Dad's relief, he has since moved on and now only desires my purse for the intent purpose of dumping its contents, but for a time, my rough and tough little boy carried a purse. And he wore it well. Goodbye "purse stage." Hello to a new one, perhaps.

Birthday Boy

1 year old! It's unbelievable that it was a year ago that our little man came into the world. This year has been a long journey, but it still went so fast. Elias has come so far in that year and it is a miracle every day to watch him play and explore, rough-house, and grow is a perpetual blessing. We had so much fun with him at his birthday party and at the zoo the following day on his actual birthday that I couldn't choose what photos to post--it's too limited! To see more birthday photos you can go to the following link:

Facebook album, "Happy Birthday, Baby"

Battle wounds of boyhood

It's happened. The first big bump. Playing chase with Mommy in the living room and somehow instead of crawling behind him into the open room, he leapt to his right straight into the corner of the wall, taking the corner of the baseboards under his eye and the corner of the wall on the forehead. Ouch. Nothing a little ice and permission to play with Mommy's cell phone didn't fix, though. Probably more traumatic for Mom than for Elias. The battle wounds begin.

The gift of Helps

First thing in the morning, Logan set out to install the new TV mount...and it took him twice as long because he had "help." This little guy is passionate about helping!

Armed with the instruction guide and his tool of choice (a baseball rattle), Elias is ready to show his Dad how it's done.

Way to go boys!

Changes: 3

The Martins just graduated up another rung on the life-ladder and purchased their first home. It was one of the most nerve-wracking decisions I've ever had to make. Our experience was "special" in every sense of the word and every piece to the home-buying process fit so perfectly that, in actuality, it was less of a decision and more of an acceptance of our destiny, the next step in His plan, karmaic fortune, _____ fill-in-your-blank. Our "blank" is "His Plan" and so accept we did. We were in no position to buy a house. Ha! We're still in no position to buy a house and yet, I sit and type in my comfy chair from my home rather than a shell of windows and doors that someone is letting me borrow for a while; who may keep a hefty amount of my hard-earned money if I don't give it back better than I found it.

God is good. It's more than a charismatic Christian chant ("All the time!"). It's truth. Not to be mistaken for "God is safe" (thank you, C.S. Lewis) or "God is nice", or "God is happiness;" though I won't argue that He can be all those things. But He is good. God heard a girl in Salem, Oregon say that she wanted a home where her son could crawl around on the carpet and not worry about whose grime he was crawling through. He heard this girl desire a kitchen and not a hallway, a yard and not a mud-pit, and a place where her son would know stability and safety, warmth--in both body and company. This girl's list went on and on (as it usually does when she's daydreaming...or begging) and God heard it all and orchestrated everything for her. He brought the right realtor (thanks, Mia!) who knew the right homeowner with the right house, in the right neighborhood, who would take the right amount of downpayment...shall I go on?

Nope, this is not the house I've dreamed of since I was five (there's no lake here and I do not own 15 horses), but it is right here. I know peace here; in my heart, and for the safety of my family. Puzzle pieces don't fit together when they're thrown in the box, they fit when the puzzleteer places them in the correct order, in the correct direction. Logan and I were fortunate enough to have learned that by now and trusted the Puzzleteer on this one, only to watch our puzzle come together in a way that we would never have been able to put together ourselves. Amazing when He knows us better than we know ourselves.

The fact that we ever finished packing with our little one around is a miracle in itself, but it happened and we're here! We're by no means unpacked yet thanks to travel, sickness, holidays, excuses and more excuses, but we'll get there. We've never had to unpack somewhere that we plan to stay a while, so this is all new for us. You put stuff away more precisely when you know it'll be there a while. In the mean time, we're an open house anyway. Want to come over? Come on over, Reader! Welcome to the Martin abode!

By the way, if it looks like our son found this moving thing to be the greatest adventure of his life, then you're right, he thought it was. He had a blast with all the chaos. Such a trooper.

Changes: 2

Elias is crawling! We knew it was only a matter of time, but somehow I was still shocked by how different life is with a mobile child. Oh, how I long for the days of knowing exactly where my son was at all times. Now I'd need a small army task-force, cameras in all rooms, and a battalion of robots to keep track of him every second of the day. Within days of mastering crawling, he was already clambering up on the furniture and all low-level surfaces to get new perspectives and a boost to his feet. He's a handful. All the time. He keeps life crazy. And he is our joy.

"Helping" Mommy with laundry.

Changes: 1

When life is full, the blog suffers. Sorry. There's no way around that, but I can catch you up on what the last few months have held. Get ready for some marathon blogging...

First up: we had to say goodbye to our puppy dog in February; a sad and relieving ordeal.

Gavin was our furry first-born, but with an actual baby around he began feeling more and more neglected. He was sad all the time, not exercised enough and therefore was wreaking havoc in our yard. We adored him, but he was pretty annoyed with Elias being around and that made me nervous. Seeing that all parties would be better off apart, he went to live with some friends of ours who have older kids. He is loving life there and we're adjusting to being a sans-pet household for the first time in a long time. We'll have another dog someday when Elias is older, but for now: Goodbye, Gavin. We'll miss you!