Happy 3^rd Birthday, Curtis!

My youngest nephew

Small Victories

The Sunday before Easter when I picked Ethan up from his 2-year-old class, I was told by one of his teachers that I needed to work with him during the week over a little problem of disobedience he was having: crawling under the table instead of sitting in his chair at the table. She added that he wasn’t the only one doing this, but I know my son. He probably led the crowd. Sigh. Another reminder of how far I fall as a parent.

I was quite happy to discover that when I asked Ethan what he had learned in Sunday School that day he could tell me that Jesus healed the sick. We then talked about not crawling under the table. Later when I asked him again (for Ed’s benefit) what he had learned in his class that day he shook his head sagely and declared, “Don’t crawl under the table.” So much for the story on Jesus. But to obey is better than sacrifice – right?

On Good Friday, Ed and I were asked to read some verses during the service. We agreed but then I had to back pedal and state maybe just Ed should read. Emry could be coaxed to stay in the pew, but Ethan? Not for a million dollars. Our church, though, is very encouraging to families and said we were more than welcome to bring up the kids. So, we did. Emry stood quite happily by our legs. Ethan started that way, but I had to pick him up just as it was my turn to read. He thought that was great, started to “read” with me and then decided he wanted to do it solo and reached for the mike. When I tried to gently move his hand away, he grabbed my hand and stated emphatically, “No, Mama!” I just kept on reading while Ed took Ethan…who didn’t like that but I was on the last verse. He then insisted on walking down the steps from the podium himself. As if I don’t get embarrassed enough when everyone is looking at me…

Another mother I know at church told me afterwards how nice it was to see a realfamily up there – two-year-old and all! I met Ethan’s Sunday School teachers on the way out of church (who, I think, are old enough to be my grandparents), and she remarked, “So, what we see in class is the real Ethan.” I laughed and joked that he certainly is the real deal, but inside I wanted to shrink and hide. What else did he do in class?!?!?! And how bad a mother am I?!?!?

I know, I know. I shouldn’t worry too much that I’m raising a juvenile delinquent. He’s a little boy. He knows his own mind. Like all of us, he’s a sinner. And, really, Ethan can be very sweet. He says “thank you” for everything, he can be very generous and he loves to give me hugs and kisses. But sometimes I wish that, at least in public, he could act perfect. Like Emry. Like a Sturm. But, no. He’s Ethan.

Since there was no Sunday School on Easter Sunday, we worked an extra week on “not crawling under the table”. And I prayed he would obey! When I dropped him off at his class on Sunday, we had the first small victory: he didn’t cry! (Something he has done every time we drop him off at class since he was at least 9 months old…) And when I picked him up…well, he was lying on his carpet square like he was supposed to and I wasn’t told he had been under the table, so…another small victory!

At least until next week…

Cousins!!!

This past week my sister Katey has been visiting with her two boys Jay (age 6) and Curtis (one week short of 3). Needless to say, it has been a very busy, full, loud week!

Like all of us who didn’t grow up always near their cousins, it took the five of them a little bit of time to warm up with each other and know how they each fit into their slot. But they are just young kids so there is very little pretense among them. Jay asserts himself as the eldest, Emry giggles with delight as each of the boys try to make her laugh, Beto pops right into the middle of anyone and everyone, Curtis sometimes tries to usurp his older brother but is usually easy going and Ethan can either happily tag along or loudly disagree with whoever is talking to him because…well, Ethan does that with everyone.

Looking back over the past five days, I’m not sure if we were trying to wear the kids out or trying to wear us out. From Easter festivities, to Nerf gun fights, to playgrounds, to the zoo, to the Children’s Museum…I am exhausted! And more than ready for some routine days. But it has been fun. The five cousins get along real well and have lots of fun together. 

On top of that, this past weekend was the first time in nearly five years when all of us sisters have been together. With so much going on, the six of us didn’t have a lot of time to talk, or laugh, or poke fun at one another; but we took the opportunities we had. And I think my parents were really glad to see us all together again.

 Perhaps one day we’ll get a nice picture of all of them, but I doubt it!

Ethan, Curtis, Emry, Jay and Beto

 Grandpa and Emry having fun at the Children’s Museum.

 Grandpa and Ethan taking a rest at the Children’s Museum.

Emry has discovered her sport – she’s quite good and even calls it “football”.

Ethan, at least, looks like a pro.

Jay and Emry in the really awesome sport’s tree house at the Children’s Museum.

 At the zoo.

And the sisters – Melissa, Grace, Sally (back), Jenny, Abby and Katey.

 …with the kids!

Easter

Easter may be the holiday that invokes more memories than any other. As a little girl in Tennessee, one Easter meant a long weekend with all my aunts, uncles and cousins at my grandmother’s timeshare (and my first time in a Jacuzzi). Other Easters meant Easter dinner after church at Grandma’s where we hunted Easter eggs, my grandmother dressed as the Easter bunny. Our first Easter in New Hampshire was white, which was wondrous although I shivered in my new, spring Easter dress. I can still recall to mind many of my new Easter dresses. Dad got each of us girls an orchid corsage each year. And, until this year, we took the kids up to the West End Overlook in Pittsburgh after church to look at the City and take pictures. But the one memory I thought of often this past weekend was Grandma Ogilvie dressed as the Easter bunny…

I think, because, it would be the first year all five grandkids were at my parents’ for an Easter egg hunt. And I couldn’t help but wonder if Mom would dress up like the Easter bunny. She didn’t. She said that costume had not been at my grandmother’s when they were cleaning it out, although they had paused to wonder where it might have gone. Instead, my dad, sister Sally and Ed went out into the chilly, windy Saturday morning to hide the eggs the kids happily discovered and quickly took back inside because even they were cold! Later, they all decorated Easter eggs (and themselves). Back at home after naps, my kids decorated even more eggs. We had to since Emry clearly remembered the whipped cream decorating from last year and kept reminding me about it!

Thankfully, Easter Sunday dawned bright and beautiful. We found a park to take pictures in before church, celebrated Christ’s resurrection with our church family, enjoyed Easter dinner and lots of outdoor fun at my parents after church, took naps and had a small Easter egg hunt in our own backyard before dinner. A good weekend of celebrating.

He is risen indeed!

 The cousins – ready to hunt eggs!

Jay and Emry – the neat decorators.

Curtis and Ethan – the messy decorators!

Decorating eggs with cool whip – nothing tastes better.

More Easter egg hunting!

Dressed to celebrate!

Good Friday

This morning as I was telling Emry what our day would hold, I told her we would be going to church this evening after dinner. It wouldn’t be like when we go on Sundays. There wouldn’t be Sunday School, or donuts, and we would sit downstairs instead of the balcony. But this evening would be a very special service.

“Why, Mama?” she asked.

“Because it’s Good Friday,” I replied. “The day we…”

And I paused.

I was ready to say, “The day we celebrate Christ’s death on the cross,” but a fleeting thought crossed my mind that celebratemight not be the right word. I certainly didn’t want Emry to think that we ought to celebratedeath, especially a death as gruesome as one on a cross. But, then, what was the right word? No. Celebratewas right. And so I used it, “Today we are celebrating when Jesus died on the cross. Because He loved us. And saved us. And we should celebrate.”

This thought has remained with me much of the day and was reiterated tonight when one of our pastors used the same word and repeated what I had already told Emry that morning. Yes, the death of Christ on the cross was horrific. More sickening than we could possibly imagine. But He did it willingly. Because He loved His people. He saved His people. He gave everything for His people. So, yes, we celebrate.

After all, the story doesn’t end there. On Sunday, He rose again and conquered death. And one day, He will return! If anything, celebratemight actually fall a little short of the joy this should give us each and every day.