Well, sorta quick..
1. William has a special way of waking me up without waking me up every morning. Dan usually leaves for work at the crack of dawn, and I dutifully kiss him goodbye, as he leans over my pillow. (Bless his tolerance of an insomniac wife.) After Dan leaves, I roll over and pull the covers over my head most mornings, but it isn't long before I hear William's little feet toodling down the stairs adjacent to my bedroom wall -- usually around 7 am or so. I pretend not to hear him as he quietly opens my bedroom door and scales the side of my bed. "Just fifteen more minutes would be heavenly..." I think
And, to give him credit, William, knowing Mommy prefers just a bit more of a sleep-in than he does, tries to at least put on a show of being considerate. He quietly steals my favorite little pillow and stealthily scootches in as close to me as he can get. He breathes heavily, but quietly, right in my face, every so often pulling in a deep sigh. After a bit he climbs over me and goes over to the window. "What are you doing, William?" I ask.
"Seeing if it's morning yet," he says, pulling aside the thermal curtains.
"It's still dark, William. The sun's not up," I say.
"Nope. It's not morning yet," he agrees, and climbs back in the bed over me, gently pulling my blankets off me and onto him. He settles in for a minute. Just a minute. Then he gets back up, climbing over me again.
"Where you going now, Yuyum?" I ask. He doesn't answer right away, but runs out to the living room, announcing as he runs back into my room,"The clock is pointing up, Mommy!" As if that has some significance. =sigh=
"William, why don't you go wake up Theresa?"
He doesn't even consider that suggestion, but climbs up, snuggles in next to me and holds my hand across his chest, rubbing my fingers. "You know what, Mommy?" he says.
"What?" I answer.
"I love you."
Alright already. I'm up. "I love you, too, William."
It's a nice way to wake up in the morning. A little early, but nice.
2. It's been heartbreaking watching the coverage of the Haiti earthquake victims. We all feel so helpless. Monetary contributions are needed from us more than anything, to be sure, and it's heartening to see our Red Cross workers, the US Marines and relief agencies from all over the world working so capably to save victims and bring food and water to the homeless. But my arms ache to get ahold of those crying, frightened children. I wish there were some magic way I could bring them all into the warmth and soft light of our morning routine. I wish I could send the safety somehow to every one of them. Cathy came up behind me the other day and silently watched the news coverage for a few minutes. "What can we do for them?" she asked. I told her, "We can send all the money we can spare and we can pray."
And we can hold our own children close to our hearts and thank God for our safety because there, but for the grace of God, goes any of us.
3. Like, for instance, have you been following the news coverage of the mudslides in LA? My father-in-law used to be the go-to guy during mudslide season in LA a couple decades ago. He's watching the fire-flood-mud sequence with no surprise from his home in Laguna Hills these day, itching to be in on the action no doubt. But the astounding thing about these mudslides is that there is ample warning of them. Unlike the earthquake in Haiti, the people on the hillsides of southern California, know full well that they are in danger right now. Everyone has seen it coming, the news continuously broadcasts the threats, police have gone door to door evacuating the most endangered. Twelve thousand people, I think I heard, have been warned to get out of their homes. But hundreds refuse to go. Can you imagine? What on earth could keep you there, in the path of likely death and destruction? Do they just think that tragedy happens to someone else, not to them? Do they worry about leaving their stuff? What is the disconnect?
4. So, we had a little accident here the other day -- a very little one in the scheme of things, but irritating, to say the least. Someone among us (who shall remain nameless), wanting to unload some sacks of chicken feed, backed the minivan up to the outbuilding that houses the chickens, and the sliding door happening to be open, clipped it on the side of the building, pulling the door off of it's grooves. It turns out that a bracket is broken. And to make a long story short, we have it at the body shop today where they might be able to save the door. If they save the door, the cost will be less than $400. If they have to replace the door, it'll be closer to $1,000. Would you all mind pausing a moment for some silent prayer?
5. Oh, and also, our dearly beloved North Carolina relative, my mother's sister, my Aunt Billie Jean, is having surgery this morning to remove a tumor in her neck. Forget the prayers for the door. Instead, please send up a word for Aunt Billie. She's 79 years old and these things don't get any easier the older you get. I can't begin to tell you how dear and Godly this lady is and how much we love her. She would fit right in at the heavenly court, but we'd love to have her with us down here for as long as we can get away with.
6. We just got the news the other day that our oldest son, Paul, will officially be commissioned in the US Marine Corps as a 2nd Lieutenant on Saturday, January 30th. My Dad, his grandfather will pin him. Since my Dad is suffering from dementia, we remind him about this honor every few days, and he always receives the news with brand new pleasure, wondering every time if he should wear his uniform (he's a retired Naval officer). We tell him that we're pretty sure his uniform has shrunk, and he laughs. I love my Dad. We're all going to need a good stock of Kleenex at that ceremony.
7. We also found out that Paul and his wife, sweet Nicole, will be heading out to Quantico, Virginia the first week of June. We knew it was coming, their leaving Colorado, but I can't say we're ready for it. My grandbabies are likely to come when they're far away from us. I have to start saving for airfare. In the meantime, though, we're planning a big family reunion -- renting a cabin in the mountains for a week -- before they leave as a bon voyage for them and to celebrate Dan's parents' fiftieth wedding anniversary (and Nicole's 22nd birthday). I've never planned an event like this, though -- and the ball is in my court. Has anyone out there planned or attended a family reunion like this? Any tips? Are there best ways to organize time, or is it better to be spontaneous? What are your favorite memories? What makes for a successful reunion?
(Ran out of time for pics this morning, so this is a bland Quick Takes! Yikes. I'll try to get on later and add some color!)
PS -- Just now Gabe is telling me about the Wizard of Oz and he tells me about the lion who needs courage and the tin man who needs a heart, but he can't think of the third guy. "Who's that guy? Oh, yeah, the scarecrow! And he needs... Um... he needs... What does he need?" ('Scuse my wicked sense of humor---Does anyone else out there find this funny? gglggl)
Run over to Conversion Diaries, where Jennifer has compiled a slew of Quick Takes!