This post is a few days late for Father's Day, but I still know how incredibly I am blessed to have Michael as my husband and the father of our children. He's absolutely amazing. He comes home from work just in time to save my sanity each day and gives our kids some much needed daddy-time. Let's face it; he's just more fun than I am. So with this post are some pictures of Michael the wonder-dad being absolutely wonderful!
We've gotten a bit knocked off our feet the past few weeks. Isaiah got another ear infection and was stuck on some super-strength medicine that gave him nasty stomach aches. Melora got her 2-month vaccinations and was feeling a bit off for a few days, and we were all hit with spring colds. We're finally getting back on track, though, and I'm happy to report I can again smell flowers and taste food. Yay! Even though we have had several nice days, I felt too tired and sick to venture out very much with my wee little ones, so it's really nice to get out into the fresh air and sunshine again.
We went to Como Zoo and Conservatory last Friday with the Walzes and saw their special butterfly exhibit. Isaiah was mildly impressed with the butterflies, but it was nothing compared to the fascination he showed about the tanks full of disgusting-looking fish and eels we saw at the Mandrin Kitchen later that evening. What a boy. He enjoyed himself at the zoo (despite the lack of eels crammed into a tiny tank) all afternoon, though, running around with Auntie Laura in tow on the other end of his monkey backpack/leash. Some older boys actually pointed to him with his backpack/leash thing on and commented "Look, he's a pet!" I wasn't offended at all because they were just kids, and it was obvious Isaiah was a very happy guy because he was able to run around somewhat free but still safe. I would much rather have a happy boy than happy strangers.
Melora has begun to smile a lot as us as well as coo and babble more. She loves staring at Michael, Isaiah, and me in the eyes, and she actually becomes upset if we break away our gaze to look at something else. She mimics the sounds we make and blows spit bubbles all over her clothes. Spit bubbles have never been so cute. Her dedication was June 8th, and it was really beautiful. It was actually the day after the little baby boy's funeral, and we stood on the steps of the same stage we had seen his family say goodbye just one day earlier. One of the questions our pastor asked us was,
"Do you now dedicate your children to the Lord who gave them to you all, surrendering all worldly claims upon their lives in the hope that they will belong wholly to God?" Michael and I answered that we do, and the realization of surrendering all worldly claims on their lives hit us both so strongly. Melora and Isaiah are so precious to us, it's painful to think they won't be ours to hold forever; we know that we are only stewards of their lives for a short period of time. It's a beautiful and heartbreaking thought, and I don't really know what to do with it yet except to hold up my children to God with open hands.
Melora was dressed up for her dedication in the fluffiest dress I could find (I'll make a separate post of pictures for everyone to see,) and Isaiah thought she was pretty darn cute. Later when he saw pictures of her on our camera he told me "Mewowa is so beautiful." She sure is. He absolutely adores her and talks to or about her all the time. He tells her that her little outfits are "sooooo cute!" He tries to comfort her whenever she's crying. He tells us to pick up "baby Mewowa" if we have put her down for too long, and he just can't keep his ands off her soft hair and skin. He was very protective of her at the doctor's office when she got her shots, and once we were back to the van, he asked if "baby Mewowa is okay now?"
"Yes," I reassured him, "Baby Mewowa is just fine, sweetie," imitating his cute little mispronounciation. Then he looked at me like I was the biggest idiot in the world and said very slowly (so even a dunce like me could understand,)
"No, Mama, not Mewowa...it's MEWOWA"
Ah, my mistake.
Other than Melora's name, Isaiah has gotten pretty adept at pronouncing words, and it's a little sad to hear his baby talk disappearing. Consequently, I actually get excited when I hear him mispronounce words, and I dislike it when Michael teaches him the proper way to say things. I love that he says "snignal" in place of "signal" and refers to Michael's game of Pac man as "the packing man." It makes me feel as though maybe he really isn't growing up too quickly after all. (But he really is....) On the other hand, there are some grown-up things he says that just melt my heart and make me dizzy with joy. The other night I was tucking him into bed and I whispered, "I love you, Isaiah." He wrapped his soft little arms around me, nuzzled my cheek, and whispered back, "I love you too much." You have no idea, Isaiah, how my heart burst with your little whisper.
