17 monther

I don't mean to brag, but the way I walk has been compared to John Wayne's swagger. I've been taking steps here and there since August, but I really stepped up my game this past weekend. My mother was praying that I would start walking soon so my pregnant nanny would have some relief. Then, my grandpa came and hauled my tochis all over our acreage (or maybe I hauled his?) and this walking thing didn't seem so bad.So, why not help God answer my mother's prayers? Yeah! That's what I thought, too!

I've got a whole new spring in my step now and my verbals are starting to follow suit. I can point to and say my body parts: piggy toes, mouth, eyes, ears, but my favorite by far is my nose since it has these holes for sticking my finger. Big fan. I also have added "chugga-chugga-choo-choo" as well as "up" and "down" to my vocab. That pretty much covers everything I want to convey in a day, in addition to mama, dada, pop (for yogurt freeze pop), truck, car, and plane.

I'm Tatum and I am 17 months young. I practice good oral hygiene. I give pats on the back. I am a prince and people love me.

Church Portraits

Well over a month ago, I signed up the FamiLee for our church directory portraits. You know how I love to appear to have it all together, so, yes, of course I was piddling on the church website and snapping up our timeslot, conveniently right after pick-up from Baby Girl's school. Now, hold up. I know what you are thinking. But, Kendra? Church portraits!? Aren't those for people who wear t-shirts with faded pastel fish designs and their jeans hiked up to their armpits? And to that I would say, No. No, you are wrong. That ensemble is much too casual for a church portrait. You would need some manner of floor-sweeping denim skirt paired with a lacey blouse and a handstitched vest festooned with some kind of autumn-themed applique. Now that is the fashion forecast for the church portrait.

But anyway, I cracked the whip on the boys and had them both in their bowtie best by the time we got Baby Girl from School. Then I toted Baby Girl's change of clothes for the picture like a total stage mom and we arrived on time because this was less about taking pictures and more about testing my ability to orchestrate this church portrait thing. All the church ninny helper people were being friendly and lovely, fawning over the kids and making pleasantries, and clearly my blood sugar was low because UGH LEEEEMEEE ALONE WHOSE IDEA WAS THIS CHURCH PORTRAIT ANYWAY???

We got into the photo taking chambers and Baby Girl was already staging her boycott of the event. Little Man and Loverpants got a few boys-only shots to warm up the camera. Then we attempted a family foursome and Baby Girl refused to show her face to the camera, like...Who are you? Johnny Depp? Don't care to comment, Vanity Fair? I then chastised Baby Girl for ruining everything and if you know me you know that I'm not a fan of the spanking to discipline but oh did I threaten her today. And for what? For thinking that it's way lame to have to sit pretty for a church portrait after you've just spent the whole day in school taking turns and trying not to pull a nutty when you only get one graham cracker even though everyone else got two? You can't get behind that?

As we were leaving, I told Loverpants that I needed to sort this out with Baby Girl and he told me that this didn't have to be a "you and her" thing. Of course the good counselor was right.

Over the past two days, I've heard those famous verses from Proverbs 3 twice. God's been knocking on my door and then He's been leaving me voicemails just to follow up.

Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding;

Did you catch that? Lean not. On your OWN understanding. Don't rely upon your own understanding of what's important to support you. Don't expect that your child better behave for something that is more about your own agenda than about God's.

Yup. Noted. Thanks, God.

I asked Loverpants if we could just forget the whole church portrait ever happened and he said, No, it was funny. It's a good story to tell.

Plus, I prefer my kids in their own habitat for portrait-making anyway.

Well

Dear Little Man, I was recently holding you and speaking with a woman whom I had just met, and appropos of nothing, she asked, "That baby's head is really big. Is he well?" My son, the head to which she was referring was yours.

Now, it was not the head and the size thereof that I found most interesting about this unfiltered question that she asked out of complete impropriety. Because, to be sure, your noggin is of estimable size. We are not perturbed by it in this family. In fact, we all maintain that you are carrying a brain of tremendous proportion in that cabeza of yours.

Rather, it was the use of the word "well" in her interrogative that so captivated me.

My son, you are not old enough or anywhere near verbal enough to understand the ramifications of this four letter word "well." Soon you will be, though.

Well is a curious word in the English language. It can take the form of a noun, as in the place from which water is drawn. It can be an interjection of sorts, a placeholder, an audible pause. Its uses even within this function are varied. You can use it to show hesitation, as in "Well...?" or even outrage: "Well! I'll be! As I live!"

Of course, you are still too young to understand nuance.

Anyway. The context in which the woman who was clearly having a momentary out-of-body experience (how else could anyone be so inappropriate?) was that of an adjective. "Is he well?" she asked. Well. This adjective often stands alone, as in "I am well"--I am feeling fine. Or it can pair rather dependently with a verb. Like Jesus asking the disciple, Do you want to be made well?

And speaking of Jesus. I can't wait for the day in Heaven where you, my pride and joy, my healthy, forever bedimpled sweetie pie who lives only to smile and giggle, to point at tractors and garbage trucks, wake up cheerful and go to bed in a tickled state of delirious from all the fun you've had with your sister and the dogs next-door--I cannot wait for that day, sweeter than all the others, when you will meet that merciful Lord Jesus who made you, who was there as you were knit together inside of me, when He will use the adjective in a way that will rival all other uses.

Well done, my good and faithful servant.

Love, Mama