Happy Birthday, Little Birdie!

On July 4, Sweet Baby J celebrated his golden birthday.

Manny celebrated with him.

These are Lego cakes. Legos cakes matched my two criteria for this year's birthday cake: First, it had to be something that Jonah was interested in; and second, it had to be easy to make. Ta-da!

Enjoying birthday cake and birthday ice cream after a birthday dinner of pizza, during a birthday visit from Gangee and Pop-Pop.

Iohan is as excited about Jonah's new car carrier as Jonah is, I think. Jonah's not excited that Iohan's excited, though.

For his birthday, we bought Jonah tickets to a White Sox game. He was generous enough to include Manny in the outing. Here are the boys in their Sox gear, ready for their big adventure.

Grandma Ruth and Grandpa Denny gave Jonah a baseball "glub" (his preferred pronunciation) for his birthday. Pop-Pop and Gangee gave Manny one, too, so that the two could play together, and so that any "it's-not-my-birthday-and-I've-got-no-presents" meltdowns on Manny's part might be prevented. Success! These days, Gabriel takes the boys out nearly once a day to practice. We're counting on someone making the majors!

This may be one of my favorite pictures ever. Baseball brothers, in boots and undies cheesy grins in place.

White Sox night, once yearly

My boys willingly and happily sit in the back of the bus. It is going to take them a while to understand Rosa Parks. Train platform. City kids.

Jonah with Southpaw, the Sox mascot. I asked J if he wanted a picture with Southpaw. He seemed surprised, but then ran right up to the creature and (as you can see) posed happily. Manny, on the other hand, has always abhorred live and lifesize mascots; he was not letting go of his grip on Gabe. J, in older sibling fashion, talked several times throughout the night of having his picture taken with Southpaw and wondering aloud, "Why didn't you do that, Manny?" (Implication: "You big wimp.") "Next time," Manny reassures us.

(Yes, that's a plastic bag that I'm letting Iohan play with. We live dangerously 'round here.)

To cut down on concession costs, I packed a "snack sack" for the older boys. It was almost magic. I filled it full enough to last through several innings and we faced barely any requests for ballpark snacks. Next time, the snack sack will be even bigger and better!

Jonah's reenactment of an amazing catch that we saw. Can you feel the magic?

Boston, pt 2

The trip was wonderful. My visit last year prompted an interest in the beginning of the United States, as we visited Concord, the site of the first battle of the American Revolution. We were treated to an inspiring lecture on American exceptionalism by a real New England blueblood, who spent his time dressed in period clothing, demonstrating rifle-loading, and rousing the masses. (Steve’s comment on the way home was that he actually felt proud to be an American for the first time in ages.) This year we continued the American theme be visiting the national park that includes the birthplace of John Adams, his first home with Abigail (both located, almost strangely, at a busy, unattractive, commercial intersection in Quincy – the times, they have a-changed!), and Peacefield, the lovely (onetime) farm and estate that he and Abigail bought and expanded upon their return from Europe.

Here Anneke relaxes with Baby Lou on the front porch. Lou did great thru most of the tour, and then passed out on this horribly uncomfortable-looking wooden bench. She could easily be mistaken for a doll.

Peacefield was handed down thru four generations of Adams men, who all kept an eye toward maintaining the home (which makes sense especially because they lived there!). The last of these men, Brooks Adams, donated the land to his country and its people -- we should all be grateful. Below is the side of Peacefield, at right, with the greenery-covered stone and brick library on the left. The library is a work of art itself.

We relaxed in the gardens with lunch.

Me, An, and Baby Lou. I look like I'm wilting from the heat and humidity. I was.

The four of us also engaged in that great American pastime, baseball spectating. One of Gabriel’s favorite major league pitchers, Tim Wakefield the knuckleballer, happened to be pitching a rehab start for the Boston Red Sox minor league team, the Pawtucket (Rhode Island) Red Sox. I almost felt guilty watching Wakefield pitch, knowing how much more my husband would appreciate it than I ever possibly could. A giant round of “fried dough” (yup, it is what it sounds like) with some powdered sugar helped to take the edge off. (I shared.) I took this picture on accident, thinking that I was taking a video. Lucky mistake!

My Sunday evening flight out of Boston allowed enough time to attend church service with the Stassons, lunch and a nap, and the world’s fastest coffee date with just Anneke, which was greatly cherished, as they are few and months or years between! What’s more, Anneke has been for the past several years my best friend.

I was somewhat of a late bloomer in college. Though I stayed in the dorms for my first three semesters, I wasn’t really what you’d call a “dorm activity” kind of girl. What’s more, I was dating someone during that year and a half, and I practically refused (still not sure why) to do my laundry at the dorms, opting instead to live at my parents’ house on the weekends (clearly, I had a lot of laundry that needed attention). I spent my fourth semester in Costa Rica on a non-Calvin program; my closest friends there attended school in Oregon and Illinois and Iowa and central Michigan, out of range of the “amazing college friends” bond that is fostered by seeing one another every day. I lived in a house with four and then five other girls my junior and senior years, but never really felt that I found my niche.

It wasn’t until Calvin’s January Interim term that I finally began to feel really and truly comfortable at Calvin, thanks in no small part to Anneke’s friendship. While we’d known each other for at least a few months prior to that January, sharing a room in a South Korean university’s dormitory and traveling the country with our class catalyzed a deep and lasting friendship, the kind I’d always wanted to experience in college. Returning to Calvin for the start of my last semester, I was in many ways different from the person I’d been before. My friendship with Anneke and with one other person actually gave me the self-confidence to be as outgoing as I can possibly be (difficult for me) and to actually relax.

Anneke stayed in Grand Rapids for about a year after graduation, and so she was with me thru the early days of my relationship with Gabriel, and thru the early stages of my conversion to the Orthodox Church. Just those two events almost define my life as it is now, and it’s very possible that no one had a clearer view into the inchoate stages of “My Life Now” than Anneke. At the same time, visiting her makes me revisit “My Life Then,” in college, when I thought of a Ph.D. (which she is now pursuing), when I was single, when I was attending a church that I now think of as only barely “a church.” I certainly don’t mourn the turns my life has taken; there is just a singular sensation in being with the one close friend whose friendship straddles these two parts of my life. And there is a certain bitter-sweetness in being with Anneke. I recall that she came to my extended family’s Thanksgiving dinner with me my senior year at Calvin. Afterwards, she told me that while she was happy to be with us for the time, it almost made her sad that she was missing that hominess with her own family. Perhaps that’s what I feel when I visit Anneke: I’m thrilled to be with her and to take part in her life, but it makes me miss her even more when we’re separated by a thousand miles. Besides my husband, I wouldn’t be surprised if Anneke is the person who most understands me, even though we lead different lives and filter each thru our own personalities and backgrounds and practices of Christianity. Having a dear friend like Anneke in close proximity is something with which I was blessed for a brief time in my life; I’m blessed still by her friendship, despite the miles.

Thank you, An. I love you!

A boy's boy

Can you spot the goose-egg on Manny's head? The child stumbled (or was pushed -- we'll never know!) into the edge of our wooden toy chest -- ouch. The photos, of course, don't do it justice. The bump swelled so quickly that it split and started to ooze a little blood. Jonah did the same thing when he was about 14 months old; I guess that every child needs a bump like this during the toddler years. Right? It was probably the most traumatic thing that Manny's ever been through, but, considering that the tears and screams stopped with the application of popsicles, it was relatively non-traumatic after all. This happened five weeks ago now, and Manny still bears a visible mark and has a palpable bump on his head. Neither interfere with play and general rough-housing. Nor with book reading, as shown in Exhibit B.

We put Manny in a baseball cap awhile ago, and upon seeing him in it, Jonah exclaimed, "It's Baseball Pig!" (Pig being an endearing though potentially unflattering nickname.) Clever Jonah. Manny tries to live up to the name. (The photos and video are a month old now. Manny has vastly improved his swing and hit ability since.)

1) Pick up ball.

2) Decide that this is a job for two hands, after all.

3) Line it up.

4) Thwack!

Game time

The Swishers, our children's godparents, introduced us to the Chicago White Sox Kids Club about a year ago. Said Kids Club allows us to attend a baseball game for free (along with sending a poster, baseball cards, and temporary tattoos), which further cements my loyalty to the Sox and my disdain for the Cubs. On June 10, we were able to attend the Sox - Tigers game, which was the dream matchup for my husband. Of course, watching the game with two young kids is a much different experience than enjoying the game without the munchkins, but we're both thrilled to be instilling within our children a great love for the American pasttime.

Manny, who spent almost half of his in utero life in Michigan, couldn't decide which team was worthy of his adoration. He finally decided to cheer both, suiting up with the Tigers cap and White Sox shirt. (Recognize the cap, Gaspards? You were so sweet to send it to Jonah last year.) Jonah's our south Chicago boy and had no qualms cheering for only the Sox, regardless of his father's ancient loyalty.

Somebody hit a homerun, which the Sox always celebrate with fireworks. Manny, lover of danger and loud noises, gave us his sign language sign for "more." "More fireworks," he demands.

This picture fairly effectively captures the personality differences between our two boys. Not that Jonah doesn't know how to or enjoy having fun, but Manny really knows how to have fun.

Hey, not a bad picture! One of us looks directly at the camera, the other two have their faces turned in the camera's general direction. I'll take it!

This is a much more typical example, though, of what we get with our boys in the frame.

Season's over

Well, the Sox are out of the playoffs... but we have fond memories of our month-past trip to the park. We scored free tickets from the Kids Club packet (bet they don't have that at Wrigley), which the godparents had passed our way. Some new friends baby-sat Manny so that Gabe and I could take Jonah to the game on September 11. We saw only a few hits, stayed only thru the 7th inning, and the Sox ultimately lost the game, but we did enjoy some tasty ballpark food (steak pita!), saw an idiot from the crowd try to run across the field (he avoided a tazer-ing, but not a take-down), and had fun with Baby J at his second big league game.

Jonah couldn't always keep track of where, exactly, the game was being played. What do you expect from a 2 year-old?Jonah had fun trying to escape down the stairs. I think that this was his second-favorite activity...
...after eating tasty treats. Like this pretzel...
...or this ice cream, which, sadly, he was forced to share with both Mama and Dada. Oh, the injustice!
The awesome night was capped off by a Blue Line ride. It doesn't get any better than this.

Starting young

Well, he's no lefty, but Gabe needn't yet give up his dream of having a ball player in the family. Jonah loves to watch baseballers pitch, and he's picking up on their form. Head tucked, a twist to the torso. Sox or Tigers, son?