Charles Year in Review/Preview

As 2018 winds down in just a couple short hours, I was inspired by others' recaps to reminisce about how God has blessed us this year and look ahead to 2019. 

Jon and I haven't had any milestones to speak of. At midnight, we'll celebrate 7 years since he proposed. The banality and beauty of making a living, raising kids, and doing life together have not been lost on us. We feel the hard work of it all, and we recognize God's grace and favor in our sweet family. One of the highlights for me this year, was hosting 2 online marriage small groups through Christian Veterinary Mission, for other couples striving to love each other like Christ loves each of us. In 2019, I'm looking forward to making fools of ourselves together in a church volleyball league. We rarely make time to do things for our marriage, or our fitness, so it will be fun to sweat and laugh side by side.

Angie's halfway through her third year at Portland Christian School, which means she's 1.5 years from graduating high school! As a sophomore, she received the Triple Threat award for playing a sport all three seasons. This year, she tried something new and traded in soccer for volleyball, and she took the winter season off, a welcome reprieve for us from dragging the boys to indoor sporting events (holding still in bleachers is not their jam.) She's decided to focus more on tennis with the hope of maybe playing in college. Through her high school she visited a few local universities and really became enamored with one. So, we're talking a lot about the future, although it terrifies her, and trying to narrow down what options are wisest, and what direction God might have set out for her.

In the meantime, she also joined the school choir, which has been a treat for all of us. I really had no idea she could sing. I had actually noticed a lovely voice near me during church worship on more than one occasion, but always thought it was a stranger nearby. I'm so glad someone else was less dense than me and recognized Angie's talent.

In the biggest recent news, for Angie, and really the whole family, Angie worked hard to complete her written test, drive for 60+ hours, and last week pass her driving test to receive her restricted driver's license! It has already meant more freedom for her, and for all of us! 

Isaiah is just a few weeks shy of 4 years old. 2 and 3 have been hard years, as is to be expected. No one says the toddler years are smooth. But, as 4 began to approach, and Isaiah's OCD behaviors, meltdowns, and utter ridiculousness seemed to be increasing instead of decreasing, I was getting a bit concerned that 4 wouldn't be the gamechanger we were hoping for. But just a couple weeks ago, the crazy started to subside. The tantrums are more avoidable, the compulsiveness is less extreme, and the boys are even playing nice, hugging, and sharing sometimes! There is hope for 2019!

In other news, we began reading over the summer, and he's doing really well. He can't hold still for more than 3 seconds strung together, but if you can keep a basic book in front of his face as it moves, he can read it. 

Isaiah, literally a kid in a candy store!

Paul is as goofy and full of life as ever. Praise the Lord, he isn't nearly as full of allergies as he used to be though. We're trying to introduce him to all the wonderful foods that eggs and milk have to offer, but having been off dairy for so long we're struggling to convince him of the greatness of pizza, lasagna, and cheese. Hopefully he'll come to his senses in 2019!

Other than decreasing his allergen counts in 2018, Paulie's greatest accomplishment was learning to use the potty. He's not 100% yet, but he's had some accident-free days and even a couple dry diaper nights, so we're well on our way.

Just like everyone else, we have big plans for January. Tomorrow, I start a daily devotional group with other veterinary moms, called 365 One-Minute Christian Challenges. I'm also looking forward to joining a women's Bible Study Fellowship group in the coming weeks. The same week we start our volleyball league, I have two meetings to learn more about Classical Conversations, a homeschool model we hope to implement in the fall. Then, my normal work wildness ensues, with 25+ days of travel between mid-January and mid-March. So, all prayers appreciated for the homefront as I abandon it yet again.

Our crazy crew in 2018!

I don't have any huge goals for the new year, but I am resolving to assign blame less and give credit more. How much more lovely would the world, and our home be, if we rarely pointed a finger in accusation, but regularly lifted each other up for being kind? Cheers to a kinder more Christ-like 2019!

Flying with Kids, Yours or Not

We flew to Utah as a family a couple weeks ago. Unfortunately, we also had to fly back a few days later. It was unfortunate because, duh--Utah, mountains, aspen trees in the fall, time with my sister, swimming in a crater... Isaiah even had a meltdown the entire car ride back to the airport (at 4:00 AM) because he didn't want to leave Utah unless we promised we were going somewhere else with mountains. But really it was unfortunate, because after the flights to get there, we were about ready to settle out West just to avoid the flights back East. 

Flying with kids is hard. Traveling with kids is hard. Let's be real, life with kids is hard. This morning, I'm sitting in an airport alone on my way back out West, but this time I'm flying solo, and realizing just how simple EVERYTHING is. TSA was a breeze, going to the bathroom is a non-issue, and being on the actual plane was a relaxing peaceful oasis in my otherwise crazy life. 

I should clarify though. Angie (16) is easy, she packs for herself, carries her own bag, and listens to headphones like the rest of the teenagers. Isaiah (3) isn't even too bad. He can be readily entertained for long stretches with games, books, or just by sucking his thumb and taking it all in. Paul (1), on the other hand, is a wild man in constant motion, challenged by the prospect of the cramped quarters to skip an entire nap at naptime in the vibrating white noise of the flying machine that even few adults can resist. His attention span is approximately 1 minute 45 seconds, and a 3 hour flight is made up of a LOT of 1 minute 45 second intervals. Also, under Paul's influence, Isaiah is convinced he should not be outdone by his brother in the shenanigans department. So, the competition of crazy ensues.

If only airplanes had moving sidewalks like airports,

 the boys could be entertained for hours, or at least 10s of minutes.

I'm sharing all this to say that if you sit near a well behaved child on a plane, or even a mediocrely behaved child, their parents likely worked their tails off to make that happen for you. When people told me that our kids were so good on the flights, I'm sure I should have taken it as a compliment, and I probably did say the appropriate "Thank You," but what I meant was "You're Welcome!"

On one of our 4 flights, I think Paul and I were the only 2 people (other than the pilots I suppose) not to nap at all. You're welcome. What I wanted to do was let Paul run up and down the aisle squealing with delight, rummaging through your belongings to see if you brought him any candy while I closed my eyes too, because I had also been up since 2:30am like the rest of you passengers.

But what I did instead was contain him for an interminable amount of time in a 2' x 2' space on my lap/at my feet like keeping a baby velociraptor in a cage meant for a parakeet.

If you don't even notice there's a child on the plane near you till you deplane, or if you do notice, but you don't mind, you should give that parent a medal, or at least a hug. In order to be considerate to you those parents have (1) timed their child's sleep to optimize naps and crankiness, (2) packed enough snacks for a tiny army to keep the hooligans full, occupied, and their ears comfortable at the changing altitudes, (3) brought sufficient unique toys, games, videos, and books to hold them still for the duration of the flight, (4) planned for the novelty factor and made trips to Dollar Tree, Wal-Mart, and/or Amazon to have trinkets that will actually catch their toddler's attention, (5) visited the plane's bathroom possibly multiple times, so you wouldn't have to smell a poopy diaper or hear the consequent fussing, (6) restrained their slippery octopus in such a way to minimize kicking the back of your seat, pulling your hair, banging the tray table, and invading your personal space, (7) sacrificed their own personal space, rest, and a large portion of their sanity to stay on high alert lest their vandal escape their grasp and disturb your peace. (If said child is an infant, add 'nursing in a cramped public setting with strangers' to this list of extravagant endeavors.)  So instead of giving parents the side eye when your seat gets bumped or a baby screams for a moment, maybe try giving them a break or an empathetic smile.  

This morning, there was a family traveling with a 2 year-old and a 4 year-old in the row in front of me. After our short flight, I thanked the mom for working so hard to keep her daughter in good spirits. She told me this was the easy flight; their next leg was a 16-hour trip to Delhi! 

I felt slightly called to abandon my own plans and join them in order to begin my new in-flight ministry of helping parents with their wild children. Instead, I guess I'll just start by encouraging the extra sleep-deprived, extra stressed-out parents I fly with, and offering to help whenever I can. I hope we can all become better neighbors to flying families. The least we can do is thank parents for their heroic efforts to maintain tranquility in the air. Actually, what I could do to launch my ministry is take my maniacs on random flights around the world and close my eyes for that coveted nap, demonstrating how toddlers would naturally behave unsupervised. Then we all might appreciate how unappreciated these super hardworking parents really are!

Weaning for Dummies

I sure hope no one was confused by the title and came here looking for a weaning tutorial. On the contrary, I was hoping you all could give me some tips. I've often asked why is there so much written on breastfeeding and so little said about weaning? For me, nursing is pretty straightforward and natural, but weaning is not so simple. I say that, but in all honesty, nursing Paul was a real struggle. I fought hard to make it to 6 months. Then, I thought it would be a miracle if we made it to a year. I never imagined we'd make it to 19 months!!

At less than 1 month-old, Paul developed reflux and by 3 months it was like my milk was burning a hole in him as soon as it touched his esophagus, he would writhe and scream. He hated nursing and when we gave in and did a trial with hypoallergenic formula, he was initially appalled by the taste, but then so relieved that it didn't hurt him. It would have been easy to switch to formula at that point for his comfort and my convenience, but I do not for one second take for granted the health and relational benefits my boys and I enjoy through breastfeeding, so I stubbornly persevered. I'm sure the expense of hypoallergenic formula encouraged me to stay the course as well. :)

In his first 7 months, I tried giving up dairy in combination with many other things. It wasn't until our beloved allergist diagnosed him with both milk AND egg allergies that we were able to make nursing a success for us both, although it meant giving up all dairy and eggs indefinitely. 

I think Paulie recognized how hard we fought to make BFing work too, and having earned it he didn't underappreciate it either. Loving cheese, butter, ice cream, frosting, baked goods, and all things creamy, I tried to start weaning him at a year, but he was reluctant. 6 months later I was still trying to cut him off. Like most mamas, our last nursing session to go was the one at bedtime. When I tried redirecting him to soy milk, he would scream like I was hurting his feelings as much as my dairy-filled milk had originally hurt his GI tract. Because I valued the beauty of our nursing relationship so much, I decided not to let it end on such an ugly note, even if it meant I'd have to go to college with him. 

I set the goal to wean him before my trip to the University of Florida last week, as it would be my first overnight away from Paul. With the side benefit that it was just before Jon's birthday, because weaning Paul meant I could enjoy dinner out with Jon for his birthday without having to scrutinize a menu for traces of butter or cheese. 

With the help of others putting him down whenever they were available to for naps and bedtime, we finally weaned, but I wasn't nearly as eager to get back to dairy as I, or others, expected. It took me a couple days to realize it, but I feel a bit like I'm betraying Paul as the only dairy and egg-free person in our family now. We were a team, and now he is alone in his plight. I still choose PB&J or other safe foods often so I can share with him when he climbs in my lap halfway through every meal. But that doesn't mean I haven't splurged.

There have been 2 extended periods in my life where I've gone without Papa John's pizza: when I lived in Bolivia and this past year+ for Paul. They were both worthy causes, and they were both joyous reunions!

If anyone is considering a restricted diet for breastfeeding purposes, You can do it! I didn't think I could either, but these precious little ones are worth it. Wanna know my secret to success: Private Selection's Raspberry Sorbet. Even if you're not dairy-free it may change your life like it did mine.

As far as weaning goes, I have no advice. I've heard so many people tell me that their kids just decided they didn't want to nurse anymore at 9, 12, or 15 months. Not so for us. That would have been easier, but what would really be ideal would be if baby and mama could just agree on a physical and emotional timeline and work together from there. 

Jon says these are my crazy eyes. Yeah, crazy for long-lost ice cream!

If you're wondering if this sweet boy will always be the odd one out in our family, we hope and pray not. Next month, we meet with our allergist again, and we hope he'll be outgrowing this and joining us in our dietary freedom soon. In the meantime, he's surviving on raspberry sorbet and all the hugs and kisses he can squeeze out of us.

As always, these trials have only given us more compassion for others in their allergy and breastfeeding journeys. Thank you, Lord, for helping us understand how others live.

Out of the Mouths of Toddlers

The other day, Isaiah mentioned Potatoes in conversation, and I thought, "Oh no!" You other moms may not weep when your kids stop calling Fish "Foosh" or Because "Patuz," but when Isaiah properly pronounced Potatoes instead of using his long-held word invention - Pomatoes, I knew it was the end of an era. Or at least the beginning of the end. When your baby no longer mutates Potatoes and Tomatoes into one vegetable, with brown and red varieties, you know you're heading for a new life phase which I'm sure will be fun in other ways, and obviously more intelligible, but it can't possibly be as cute.

So, before any other adorable antics fade from their repertoire, or slip from my memory, I thought I better jot a few of the best ones down.

How happy he was when he finally got his shirt over his huge noggin.

Isaiah pronounces most words and sounds well now, except the ever-challenging double or triple consonants. It's always a guessing game whether we're talking about trains or cranes. Some of his favorite adjectives currently are Super and Refreshing, and if something is chilly or wet, it may very well be "Super Refreshing!" Which, in all honesty, is a nice positive spin on getting cold or damp, so I can't complain.

When I brought this shirt home, he exclaimed, "Isaiah-Dozer!"

He started talking about when he's a teenager the other day, and he got a bit carried away with his plans. When he's a teenager, he'll be able to drive like Sissy. Sure. But also, when he's a teenager he'll be able to read. Hope so. When he's a teenager, he'll stop sucking his thumb. Uh... When he's a teenager, he'll be a grandfather. Wait, what?!

My current favorite though is WhoOne. It's doubtful he's the first child ever to create this word combination, but I've surely never heard it before. It took us awhile to figure out why he was always saying WhoOne instead of Who, until one day my mom explained it and suddenly it made perfect sense. There's Someone, Anyone, Everyone, No One, Which One, of course there should also be Who One!!

And to conclude Isaiah's heart-melting list of 3 year-old-isms, he now prays for the Paw Patrol characters by name at meals, every one, at every meal. So, if you were ever to ask me Who One in reference to Paw Patrol, I could now tell you who.

Not to be outdone by his brother, Paul will probably start talking when he's a teenager. But for now, he gives the best kisses. Look out though, if you ask for a Beso (kiss), he'll come at you with his tongue out and go straight for your mouth.

The other day at a hotel, he went with me to the lobby to grab some breakfast, which I had planned to take back to the room to eat with Isaiah, but Paul had decided he wanted the high chair. So, we compromised and he pushed the high chair all the way to our room at the other end of the hall!

Some of his adorable moves are already fading. At the top of slides he'll hold up two fingers and say "Uno, Dos," and then slide!

When he falls down now, he may cry out for a second, but he recovers quickly and stands back up, then he holds out whichever part of him got a booboo so that you can kiss it and make it feel better. Just FYI, if you're ever with him and he holds the palm of his hand or his knee to you and grunts, you're supposed to kiss it.

I wish the blog would let me post videos of his awesome dance moves, or how he holds up two fingers to say "Shhhh," but for now you'll just have to imagine how precious he is, or come over for a visit and some besos.

What, do I have something on my face?

Getting drenched in your clothes is the Best!

It's Super Refreshing!

And after you drench your clothes...

The crew!

Paul, Tough as Nails, Sweet as Sugar

Paul turned 18 months-old on Saturday! On Sunday, he was kicked out of church nursery for biting another toddler. Not a good way to celebrate your half birthday, Buddy.

When he's not using his teeth to tell us how he feels though, he is the sweetest little guy. He helps me with chores, takes a tiger ice pack to his brother when he gets "hurt", and gives the best slobbery kisses.

His new heart-melting trick is to grab hands and bow his head randomly throughout every meal. We have become super spiritual around the dinner table now, praying 5-10 times whenever we eat! I've asked him to do this to me all day to remind me to pray without ceasing.

He hasn't always been as enthusiastic about prayer though. In May, Jon was praying for my aunt Jeanie's birthday before lunch, and a hungry impatient Paul decided Daddy had prayed long enough, so he interrupted with a loud "Amen." Basically his first word!

His nicknames have evolved from Paulie, Pollywog, and Paulie-Love, to Paulzilla, and now Pauldozer. This kid is a maniac!

Pauldozer picked out his own shirt today.

When it was just the 4 of us, sometimes if no one else wanted to get out of bed in the morning or things weren't moving quite at my speed, I would pray for a family member more like me.

Lord help us, He gave us one in Paul!

Isaiah and Jon are cautious, thorough, careful Thinkers. Paul and I are driven, assertive, somewhat reckless Doers.

The kid has more grit than a bag of cement. Often, we ask 'How did he get there?!' 'How did he do that?!' The answer is usually that he decided that's what he wanted, and it was as good as done. If there's a wall between him and what he wants, he'll just plow right through it.

Isaiah is just now starting to tell us, "I can do it myself." That will probably be Paul's first complete sentence. Speaking of speaking, at this age, Isaiah used about 3 times as many words as Paul is using now. Alternatively, Paul is attempting feats and stunts that Zy has yet to tackle even with a 2 year head start.

Don't be confused by their differences however, they can both be stubborn as mules, just in different ways. Isaiah can be insistent about which underwear he must wear Right Now. Whereas, Paul is determined he will climb on top of the refrigerator by his next birthday and probably take on Mt. Everest before college.

Anyway, these boys are about as opposite as night and day, or at least as opposite as Jon and me. Angie, probably falls somewhere in the middle, and pretty much just thinks we're all crazy!

To sum up; if you want a job done well, call Jon and Isaiah. If you need it done quickly Paul and I are at your service!  

What? Isn't this how everyone shops for groceries?

 

He LOVES to climb!

Do these glasses make my head look big? :)

#3Under16

I don't flatter myself that this hashtag will catch on. However, I've been meaning to post about this since I had #3Under15, so I better hurry as that second number keeps creeping up, and I'll have #3Under17 tomorrow!

You've all heard mamas talk about their struggles with 2 under 2, or 3 under 3, or one friend from our Sunday School class with 6 under 7!! 😂

I agree, the struggle is real. None of your children can go to the bathroom by the themselves, put their shoes on the proper feet, make it through the day without crying about something, cut their own meat, the list could go on and on. We had 2 under 2 for 10 days, I know it's intense.

But what you may not know is that 3 under 16 is still a handful!

None of these people can drive themselves anywhere! Fortunately, 1 of them can buckle her own seat belt and even help with the other 2, but she's also the reason we're usually driving anywhere. At the end of the school year, Angie won the Triple Threat award for playing a different sport all 3 seasons of the year! That meant a lot of tagging along and cheering for her little brothers, and a lot of driving and coordinating for us parents. I'm gonna start buying 15 year-olds Uber gift cards for their birthdays, or maybe I'll buy them for their parents' birthdays, as their parents are the unpaid taxi drivers toting them to practices, friends' houses, games, school, events, and of course shopping!

The real challenge with 3 under 16 is cohesiveness. Everyone's always going in different directions. I've mentioned it before, finding fun for all the ages is nearly impossible. There are few things that engage Angie that the boys are able to participate in. When Angie needs help with geometry homework, the boys need help bathing and getting into their pajamas. When Paul needs to nap, Isaiah needs to stay awake (lest he keep us up all night), and Angie needs desperately to be taken to the mall or the movies. Reading stories as a family, watching movies, playing games, even going on vacations is tricky with 14+ years between the kids.

Even with #3Under16, perfect family pictures are an unattainable goal. Never will they all be looking at the camera, and if you catch that unicorn moment when they are, someone will have their eyes closed or be making a weird face.

But the fun part is that they adore each other! The boys are just starting to get to the point where they can interact without screaming or biting. Angie would still prefer to bring a friend along on outings, but sometimes enjoys being seen with or helping her brothers, if it doesn't cramp her style too much. Yesterday, 4 teenage girls swooned at Paul on the beach, Angie should have made some new friends.

Next week, we'll have one on a tricycle, one on a balance bike, and one with a driver's permit! Lord, help us all. I'm not one to grasp at time as it flies by too quickly, but these next, possibly last, 2 family years sure do look short and fleeting. May we maximize every moment for training, bonding, and loving well for as long as we have #3UnderOurRoof. 

My Sunshine

After Angie came to live with me in Bolivia, we would often take walks with our only other family member at the time, our darling Labrador, Ruby. During those strolls, Angie would open up to me and tell me about her past. There was something freeing about the activity, the fresh air, being side by side instead of face to face maybe. Sometimes, it seemed that her little 8 year-old mind was forming the thoughts as she was sharing them, as if she was digging up stories that had long been buried.

It was on one such walk when she mentioned that her name wasn't always Angie. She used to have another name, she told me, but she didn't like it, kids made fun of her, "it was the name of some kind of oil or something." So, her mother at the time, changed her name to her own name, Angelica.

That day, I found out that before my little girl was called "like an Angel," her name was Girasol. When Angie told me this, I remember stopping dead in my tracks. Stunned. I had never heard that name before. And she had no idea that Girasol had been the perfect name for her. As this was long before I had a smart phone, I had to wait until we got home, open the computer, and pull up "Girasol" on Google Images. Her eyes lit up as the screen did with gorgeous, brilliant, breathtaking Sunflowers.

My little girl is turning 16 this week, and we celebrated last night by filling the house with laughter, food, friends, and sunflowers.

 

If you know Angie, you know that when she smiles, her face glows as bright as any sunflower. There is no happier happy than Angie's. When God saw the world needed a little more sunshine, he created my Sunflower. 

Angie, mi Girasol, if you remember from the vast fields of sunflowers in Bolivia, they are drawn to the direction of the Sun, and when they face skyward they are in their full glory. Sweet Girl, you too, will be your most glorious, your most beautiful, exactly the perfection you were created to be, when you face heavenward, and look to the Son. Thank you for bringing so much light into our family. I know God will use you to shine into the lives of so many others for a long long time.

Feliz cumpleaños a Ti, mi Amor! Te quiero mucho!

"In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven." -Matthew 5:16

Trampoline Memories

I'm not particularly traditional, but I do like traditions. There's a set of 12 Days of Christmas drinking glasses, literally with my name on it, at my grandparents' house. In 1992, they wrote "Bequeathed to Lauren Spears," on the box, because I'm the one who most cherishes the moments around the dinner table on Christmas Eve when we all sing the song together. Let's be real, I'm the only one who will admit to cherishing it at all, but everyone's laughing as they're complaining about it every.single.year. 

In Of Mess and Moxie, Jen Hatmaker says, "Mamas, the traditions and experiences we provide during the Family Years are paving a road our kids can always return to, one that always points home. There is something about a recurring shared memory; the sum becomes greater than the parts." 

That really resonated with me. And as our Family Years with Angie are slipping away, we wanted to be sure to take advantage of what time we have left. So, we signed up for our third year of Family Camp, fully aware the place wasn't going to be baby-proofed per se, but still a little surprised at just how mischievous Paul could be.

Here's what Paul was supposed to be doing at the kid singalong times during camp worship 4 different times throughout the weekend.

Here's what he did instead. Approximately 7,854 times he attempted to climb the stairs onto the stage.

Can you see him looking back at me and grinning?

He was so cute about it that all these boys in the front rows became his cheering section. They learned his name the first night from his nametag, and had a running commentary of "Baby Paul's" activity the rest of camp. If he could write, he would have been signing autographs by day 2.

Needless to say, camp was not exactly the peaceful getaway we dreamed it might be, but we made memories.

It's hard to find fun that works for all our kiddos with the 12-year age gap. When we decided to buy a trampoline for them a couple Christmases ago, we hoped it would bridge the gap a bit. Silly of us I know, but I think we anticipated a lot more jumping. We fretted over the "1 person at a time" guidelines stated by the box, because we envisioned it as a place for family fun, but we had no idea what we were in store for. 

Very little actual jumping or acrobatics are done on the trampoline, which should be keeping our insurance premiums down. Instead, it makes for a perfect shade cover for Ruby and the boys as they tear up the yard below in their makeshift "sandbox."

But, hands down, our favorite times with the trampoline so far, are trampoline picnics. Friday evenings this spring/summer, when no one is obligated elsewhere, you'll find us grabbing some carryout and taking it out back. 

The trampoline provides such a fun, peaceful, easy environment, that we've talked about moving all our meals out there, but spaghetti, soup, actually most any food, would not cooperate on our bouncy laps. So, if you try this at home, we recommend KFC tenders, biscuits, and tater wedges. No one said trampoline picnics were healthy, but what they lack in physical nourishment they make up for in mental and emotional family healing. 

What's so different about a trampoline picnic than a regular picnic, you might ask. Well, bugs. We have virtually no problems with bugs crawling or flying near us since we're off the ground and surrounded by a net. 

Second, movement. Something about being confined to a chair, makes our boys basically lose their appetites. And children climbing all over me during mealtimes, makes me basically lose my mind. So, to keep both their hunger and my sanity, the children grab a bite, then take a lap, do a handstand, have a tickle fight, start a game of dodgeball, or tackle someone... The options are as limitless as the sky we're eating under.

 

  

Even Ruby kind of gets in on the fun.

But these are just the logistics.

What really makes this family night into a nearly guaranteed success is the togetherness. This space is almost sacred. The clean-up, homework, housework, and schedules can't be heard calling to us this far from the house. Phones and distractions are minimized, physical touch and laughter are at an all time high. The trampoline is the closest thing to completely Baby-Paul-proofed that we have found, and it's so sweet to enjoy each other without the word "No" tainting our conversation regularly.

I'm not sure how long these encapsulated meals will last, as Angie's independence and freedom threaten to lead her in many different directions. But the de-stressing moments of pure joy that we've already shared are enough for me to recommend you go buy a trampoline, or create a tradition perfect for your own tribe.  I'm so grateful we've found ours.