Thomas the Toothless

I think it's no small thing that children come into this world helpless and clumsy and fearless, and still survive to adulthood. Certainly, God must send some to earth wrapped with a little extra "bounce". And some have a little more "bounce" than others. Saturday morning, Thomas could have used a little extra.

The boys were downstairs. There had been a bit of a fuss when Thomas belly-slid down. Samuel and Anthony guarded the bottom of the steps with their plastic swords and outstretched bodies--"No! He can't come down here! He'll wreck our fort!" Yes, they had a pretty nice fort made out of cushions, and yes, Thomas might wreck it, but I had been keeping him "out" of their play all morning. He had been wanting down the stairs and I was giving in. With exaggerated confidence, I gathered some toys for Thomas to be distracted with and assured the boys that he would be happy. Play on.

I wish now I could go back and change that. The cleaning I wanted to get done could most definitely have waited.

It wasn't much after that when, even above the vacuum cleaner, we heard Josh yelling "Mom! Mom!"
Hubby hit the switch on the vacuum and we hurried down the stairs. Josh was carrying Thomas who was wailing and bleeding from his mouth. Hubby took Thomas and I quickly grabbed a dishcloth, ran it under cold water and began blotting and wiping and looking to see where the blood was coming from. I wasn't sure if what I thought I was seeing was really what I was seeing. It was. I looked up at Hubby and said, "One of his front teeth is gone!" Thomas didn't cry for long and snuggled right in on Hubby's shoulder. The other boys were rambling on, telling us how they didn't do anything, how Thomas just climbed up by himself and fell down onto the coffee table. I went downstairs for a little further inspection into their story. It appeared to be just as they said.

A cushion was propped up against the couch, angled down like a slide that ended at the base of the coffee table in front of it. Apparantly, Thomas got to the top of the cushion, sat down as if to slide, but instead, fell forward onto the table. And right there on the floor was his tooth. The whole thing.

I called the emergency room. Thomas was still snuggled in with Hubby. I explained to the doctor what had happened. He assured me that as long as the bleeding was controlled and there didn't appear to be other injuries, there probably was nothing to be done or to worry about. Thomas was just now one tooth less.

Uff-da.

But we still had to tell our daughter, Hannah, his mom. She was already almost home when I called her-- and she took it way better than I thought she would. Better than I had received the news when the same thing happened twenty years earlier to our daughter Erin, Thomas's aunt and Hannah's twin sister. She, too, had fallen forward on a real slide outside at her Grandparents' while we were gone, and damaged her front tooth. We took her to the emergency room and, like Thomas, there was nothing to be done or worry about. Erin's tooth remained in tact in her mouth, but changed color. We called it her "brown tooth".

Guess there'll be this "special story" to be shared between them about what happened at their grandparents' when they were little, and why in all those pictures their tooth was gone/damaged.

That doesn't make me feel better.

We love you Thomas. And you still look sweet and handsome even without that tooth. :o)

Joshua and His Courage

Joshua. It is the name his dad wanted for him, chosen because of the example of the man Joshua in the Bible. The Joshua who believed when the majority didn't. The Joshua who fought battles and won when he should have lost. The Joshua who upheld a promise given to a prostitute. The Joshua who carried out justice to a greedy deceiver before all of Israel. Tough stuff. And all throughout his story, God says, "Do not be afraid. Be strong and courageous. I am with you." I haven't counted how many times He speaks these words to Joshua, but it's a lot. Enough to make me think that maybe Joshua was very often afraid and needed the encouragement and assurance of a God who said He would be with him. I read somewhere that courage is fear that has said its prayers.

The Joshua in our house spends most of his spare time reading up on military aircraft. He checks out books from the library and copies information into notebooks. He photocopies pictures. He draws and creates airplanes and war scenes. He reads about men of courage. He learns fighting techniques and self-defense and just became a junior black belt in Tae Kwon Do.  This same boy asked for an electronic pocket Bible for Christmas. He knows Joshua's story. And now something of courage.

I looked out the living room window and saw Joshua and Samuel playing in the snow about 2/3 the way down the driveway. They had gone together to get the mail. I saw Gilbert the Basset sniffing around on the road near the mailbox. The mail must not have gone yet I thought. I watched for a bit and then went downstairs. A bit later I heard Samuel come in. Crying. Surely tears of a snowball scuffle. I didn't hurry up the stairs.

He stood at the back door in tears. "What's the matter?" I asked. "Are your hands cold? Did you have a snowball fight?"

"Gilbert got runned over!"

oh no. "Are you sure? Is he still alive?"

"Josh stayed down there with him!"

I rushed to the spare bedroom closet to grab a blanket. Sam followed as I hurried to the garage. "Where's the sled?" Sam stood on the step not answering. "Where's the sled!"

I heard Josh come into the garage. He said he came back because he thought Sam was taking too long and would I hurry up because Gilbert got run over, but he was sure he was going to be okay because he was moving and trying to get off the road. He showed me to the sled and we took off running down the driveway with Samuel behind us. As we ran, Josh kept on talking, telling me that he called to Gilbert and he was sure the driver in the pickup must have seen him, but it was going to be okay because it looked like just his leg was broken. I was barely listening as I was looking hard toward the end of the driveway and searching for Gilbert.

When I saw him, I knew.
oh please, God.

I instructed the boys to stay back. I knew a dog in pain would be prone to fight even someone who was trying to save him. I spread the blanket in the sled and tried to gather him into it. He resisted, trying to pull himself away from me. As I was gently but firmly encouraging and moving Gilbert toward the sled, all I could hear was Joshua behind me:

Come on God, you can do this! I believe in miracles, God! You can save him! Come on God! I know you can do this! God I believe in you! Come on Gilbert! Come on God!

Please God, hear our prayers. Help me God.

Come on Gilbert! Be strong! Come on God! I know you  can do this!

Gilbert gave and I eased his broken body onto the sled. I couldn't bear the thought of pulling him over the rough frozen gravel the distance back up the driveway. I looked behind me and Joshua was kneeling on the road and Samuel was standing soberly beside him.

Josh and I carried the sled as quickly and as carefully as we could. All the while, Josh saying Gilbert's gonna be okay cuz it looks like just his legs are broken and me saying I hope so and we'll do all we can. When we got to the garage I was faced with how to get everyone in our little Honda Civic. I pulled Sam's carseat out and we slid Gilbert in the blue plastic sled onto the back seat.

Please God, your strong arm of protection over our vehicle.

The boys buckled in together in the front seat. We barely turned out of the driveway when we had to stop already. Gilbert was trying to pull himself out of the sled. Joshua jumped out and crawled into the back, squeezing himself between the front passenger seat and the back seat. He put his arm around Gilbert and told him to stay boy. I told Joshua to keep talking softly to him, but not to pet his back or get too close to his face. Gilbert strained toward the door and turned his face away from all of us.

Samuel sat by himself, small in the front seat, looking out the window. He didn't answer me when I asked him if he was okay. Just shook his head. I held his hand and drove.

Joshua continued to talk it all out. Talking to Gilbert. Talking to God. Talking to me. Everything was going to be good. And then, over and over, he was quoting Joshua 1:9 "...Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified. Do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go." Oh.  I knew he was fighting for Gilbert. I joined him silently and fought the tears that were jammed up behind the lump in my throat. Please God. Help me be strong for him.

Be strong. God is with you Gilbert. Come on God. I believe in you God. I just know God is gonna do a miracle, Mom. Don't you?

I sure did hope so.

Somehow, in all those minutes that ticked by, I managed to make a call and let Hubby know what was going on. He was on his way home from an inspection and pulled into the vet clinic just moments after we did.

The boys sat bravely in chairs next to the wall while the lady behind the desk asked me questions.

It was only a few short minutes before the veterinarian came out and wanted to talk with us. There was nothing to be done. She told us we were all welcome to go back and say our 'good-byes'. We did. It was hard.

 As we were leaving, Joshua, his courage firm while his chin trembled and the tears splashed out, stood a distance from the table where Gilbert was and said good-bye the way our son Joshua would say good-bye:  He gave him a military salute.

And we saw our Joshua. And we saw courage.

linking up today at MOB Society.  Love those Boys!

For You

You know who you are.
Neighbors.  Long distance friends.

Family.

Rock solid in this pile.

 We've laughed in the sunshine.

 And cried in the rain.

And stayed.

This is for you because together, we know it's true.

And we'll keep on singing.
Hugs from us to you.

The Love Dogger

He was a surprise for the boys.


24 hours after arrival to his new home!

 It was a good time for our family to have a dog again. We knew we wanted a Basset, and so we began watching Craig's List ads, the paper, and checking online at Basset Rescue sites. We made a lot of inquiries, but nothing panned out. Until Gilbert.

We found him through a Craig's list ad. His owner loved him a lot. She spoke of him and I could tell her heart was all tangled up in his long ears and his over-sized feet and his love-me eyes. I totally understood. I've been tangled up in all of that before myself. She had gotten him as a little pup. He was eight. She was married now with a newborn and a toddler. Her husband was in the military and they had to move and just weren't sure that taking Gilbert with them was the best thing to do for him.

I told her of my own love for Bassets. Told her of the boys and all the room out here for a dog to follow his nose. She told me it sounded wonderful but she just wasn't sure yet. We agreed to talk in a week. All the while, the boys had no idea. We didn't want them to be disappointed if it didn't work out, and we just really wanted to surprise them if it did.

We got a sitter for the evening, went out for supper at a nice Mexican place near the lake, and then drove out to meet Gilbert at the farm. Gilbert was eager to have company and sang us a welcome greeting as only a Basset can do! He was everything I imagined. His owner was a warm-hearted woman and when he jumped into our Explorer, I knew I was taking a part of her with us.

The boys were definitely surprised and it was love at first sight.

At first there were some ground rules Gilbert had to learn. The first and unspoken rule was that I loved dogs more than Hubby did. Gilbert decided that needed to change.

 The next rule that Gilbert needed to learn was that furniture was for people and not for dogs.

Ok fine. But no sleeping on the beds.

Well, needless to say, Gilbert wasn't a "rules" kind of dog. He was a "people" kind of dog.

He didn't mind that we had names for him. Names like Big Bad Basset.

Gilly-Berto.

And Love Dogger.

He was the Love Dogger.

Gilbert was taken from us tragically on Friday afternoon.

We miss him.

All These Little Loves

It's Valentine's Day and it's all about LOVE.

With the girls all in their own families to love on now, this isn't a holiday we've gathered together for over the last couple of years. But on a whim yesterday afternoon, I asked them all--how about breakfast here tomorrow? And guess what? Around 7:30 this Valentine's morning, these mamas and their littles and even a couple hubbies gathered in for some sweets and breakfast.

Love. Sweetness.
Happy Valentine's Day!

Bringing Home the Books

We do this. Thrift stores. Garage sales. Library book sales.
And it's almost better than Christmas.

It was like that on Thursday. We were up early. These boys had eaten breakfast, fixed their beds, and were impatiently waiting for me in the car by 7:30. It was the day of the local library's book sale, which started at 8:00. This one was a little different for us because some friends that we meet with during the school year for art would be making nearly an hour's drive to join us. Two things kept Joshua a little on edge in the back seat: 1) the featured books for this sale were war and military, surely a treasure-trove for a boy who had $11 in his pocket, and 2) his good friend from church threatened to beat him to the Garfield section. And wouldn't you know, as we waited to make a left turn at the stop sign in town, the green van carrying this certain friend drove right past.

We followed their green van all the way to the sale- the whole, long, 15 minutes. When we arrived, the lot was full except for the farthest parking spot from the door, which we claimed, and the green van pulled up closer by parking on the street. Before we could go in, we had to stop at the depository at the side of the building to drop off the stacks of books we had checked out several weeks ago. The book sale was held in the basement and the library itself did not open for another two hours.

When we turned the corner, the line of eager readers that had been waiting for the door to open was moving forward. Much to Josh's dismay, our friends were ahead of us.

Once down the stairs, Joshua took a basket for himself and quickly made his way, Samuel tagging behind, to the room where the children's books are shelved. I did not. I have been to these sales many times and find the basket only gets in the way. The ladies at the money tables will kindly put your books in a box with your name on a slip of paper and keep them while you continue to shop. I find it easier to make a couple trips to the table and my box than to lug a basket of books.

 The sale is divided into four adjoining rooms. The books are on shelves and tables and carts and the walking space between is very narrow.  The traffic is slow and often stalls as we meander over titles and flip through pages, because you can't judge a book by its cover. This I know.

I found a wonderful treasure at my favorite thrift store in town that may have been missed by many simply because of the cover. The book was a hardcover. The original paper cover that sits between the clear plastic jacket and the book was missing. In its place was white paper on which a child had drawn a picture and written the title in crayon, Daniel Boone. My interest was piqued and I opened the book. Much to my surprise and delight, it was the out-of-print version by James Daugherty!!  Also, just so happens that we would be reading about him for our history studies this year---must have been a God thing!

 With so many people passing between the rooms, I didn't even bump into any of our "group" until I was almost ready to take my treasures home. Joshua found me a couple of times, excited just to show me what he "found". Other than two new Hardy Boys, his basket was full to the top with military books-- $10.75 and hours of enjoyable and educational reading. For Sam we found another Frances book and classic Winnie the Pooh. My treasures included Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Grandma Moses, and Laura Ingalls Wilder. Garfield didn't make it to this sale. I think maybe Jon made lasagna.

After a busy day of books and art and friends, comes the quiet.

And this is why we bring home the books.