One Heartbeat Away

It is the season for miracles. With one heartbeat, our family is being blessed with another one. One very loved, cherished, and prayed over heartbeat.

Before Alan and I were married, we talked about all the major stuff: finances, property, family values, how many children, etc. We thought we had all the bases covered. Four children would be ideal, we decided. Then came the day we were told not to expect any. Nobody knew why. It just wasn’t meant to be. Nine years later, two little boys and one baby girl, and now, with one little heartbeat, the miracle of our family continues.

A much prayed about heartbeat. Did I really want to go through another pregnancy at my age? Each one has been a little more difficult than the last. After all, we have a house full of healthy, loving children. A dream come true for any couple with our history. So I prayed about it. Please God, either give us the green light or remove the desire. Very clearly the answer was, "I'm not finished with your family yet." Someone might have been in the room and said it out loud it was that clear. Okay, we’ll give it a try. As usual, it wasn't on our timing but God's.

So with one heartbeat, this summer our family will expand by one more. Prayerfully, joyfully, and celebrating God’s grace every step of the way.

The Piano Man

It was a lot like the request for ballet. “Mommy, when can I take piano?” So shortly before his dance classes ended last spring, I went on a quest for a piano teacher. Yes, I could have taught him myself, but this time I thought he’d have a better experience if he had someone besides Mommy to please, someone more objective, and someone who had a better idea where to start. The problem was that most of the piano teachers in our area won’t start a child on piano until they are in third grade. Would his interest wait 4 more years? I didn’t want to find out. Finally, I asked just the right person; our church’s organist, Mrs. Jelsma. She said she would do it! It didn’t matter that he was only 5. She said she knew him well enough to know he was probably ready. To make sure we were on the right track, I added music note flashcards, music math, and keyboard note identification exercises to Zac’s homeschooling curriculum last spring. Then, in May, a week after his dance recital, Zac excitedly headed off to his first lesson. I don’t know what was more fun for him, his playing the piano for the first time or being allowed to hand feed the cows on the Jelsma farm. He took to piano like a duck takes to water. Three or four pieces to practice each week didn’t seem to be enough. He finished his first workbook in record time! Fortunately I still had a lot of the music books that I used when I was learning piano, so Mrs. Jelsma supplemented some material I had with the program she uses. At one point Zac was playing pieces from eight different books in the same week. Well, he seemed to have the piano playing part down, but could he play in a recital. By August we had our answer.

Some of Mrs. Jelsma’s other students proposed a recital to be played at a local assisted living facility. Older folks usually make an appreciative audience for performing children. Zac was given an option this time…to play or not. He chose to play. He and Mrs. Jelsma picked five or six pieces that he had recently mastered. The closer the recital date came, the more nervous was Zac. To quell some of his jitters, Zac and I went to the facility a few days ahead of time, and he played on the piano. Some of the residents sat around after dinner and quietly listened. Zac relaxed some, but he was still nervous. We expected him to back out, and that would have been okay. The afternoon of recital day, I sat Zac down with a DVD of a Barry Manilow concert. Zac had never seen Barry perform. Wow, did that make an impression! Suddenly the piano wasn’t just something to do, it was a way to express himself. Unfortunately, an hour before the recital, Zac got it in his head that he was going to play his music from memory. Not that the boy doesn’t memorize everything anyway, but this was not the time to test his music brain. The stand off was huge with Zac on one side saying he wasn’t going to take his music to the recital, and Mommy on the other side saying he was going to take it or he wasn’t going at all. During a breather in the argument when Daddy intervened, I had an epiphany; Barry doesn’t use music to play the piano…that’s how it got into Zac’s head...backfired! I grabbed Zac’s music bag as we left for the recital while Daddy and I explained that Mr. Manilow has been playing his songs for many, many years, not just a few weeks, so of course he has it memorized. Not something for a boy to try for his first recital. But still the question remained, would Zac freeze up? Well, he shocked us all. Not only did he play, and play well, he played all of the songs he had prepared and then kept going with more. Somewhere around 10 songs, Mrs. Jelsma was finally able to convince him to stop. What a surprise! The little boy who was afraid of his own shadow at his dance recital had found his niche, or at least his fingers. After the recital, Mrs. Jelsma said the audience kept asking “How old is that little boy? Five, really? Boy, he’s going to be something if he keeps it up.”

So where has Zac gone with his piano since the August recital? How about playing “Happy Birthday” for five birthdays in November. He played over the phone for his Godmother then for his Daddy, brother, and sister. We even took the keyboard to Grandpa’s for a min-recital at the assisted living facility where he lives. A waltz duet with Mommy and a few solo pieces the older crowd recognized, and then a perfect rendition of “Happy Birthday” for his Grandpa’s 98th. A one point I looked over Zac’s shoulder at Grandpa and saw tears brimming in the old man’s eyes. The little boy playing for his Grandpa. The best birthday gift Zac had to offer. So who played “Happy Birthday” for Zac? I did, and it was my pleasure!

Somedays practice is better than others. Nice weather is still more of a draw to play outside than to sit inside and work on scales. Complicated looking pieces scare him and he balks, so we break them down until he masters them. He is only six years old after all. I still find it amazing to watch his little boy hands flying across the keyboard and listening to the very big music he plays. In the end, the work gets done, the music is mastered, and Zac keeps advancing. In the meantime he has been busily working on Christmas music in anticipation of another public performance or two in the coming weeks. As the older folks said “Boy, he is going to be something if he keeps this up!”

Waiting for a Birthday

“Is it my birthday today?” Nathan asked every morning for about 2 weeks. It’s so hard for him to wait through the four birthdays that come before his. He joyfully celebrates each and every person’s special day, but it is all his little heart can take to wait for his…last, but certainly not least. No wonder he was born a little more than 2 weeks early. We just thought he was in a hurry to get here before Thanksgiving. Little did we know that he was planning for the future and closing the gap between birthdays!

“Is it my birthday today?” Yes, Nathan, it’s today. Yippee! For a while he seemed to just be satisfied that it was finally his big day. No rush to open presents. So not like Nathan, our little boy who can’t be still for even 30 seconds. Typically impatient, impulsive, and absolutely no self control; another words, a typical 3 year old boy. Could it be that he was finally getting over being 3, and just in time to turn 4?! Turned out he was just well rehearsed. After watching all the other celebrations take place in the late afternoon, he seemed to know the routine. First thoughts still groggy from his nap…
”Can we have my birthday now?”
“Yes”
“Goody!”

It was a Thomas celebration with a new Thomas laptop computer, a sprinkling of books, DVDs, Lego Duplos, a football helmet, and a snuggly pillow pet thrown in for good measure. Lots of fun, new stuff to play with, and greetings from family and dear friends. A pretty good day for one that was so eagerly anticipated by our still impatient, impulsive, and now 4 year old little boy. Happy 4th birthday Nathan!

What's the Big Deal?

I guess 6 is supposed to be a “big” birthday because it’s the first school-age birthday; no longer a “preschooler.” The first taste of independence. Now Zac can ride his bicycle around the block. He is starting to make friends outside of his family. He has entire parts of his day that are not supervised by his Mom and Dad…if he weren’t homeschooled that is.

So what’s the big deal about turning 6? When Zac was 5,

he was 3 inches shorter than he is now.

he had more teeth in his mouth.

he could read some, but now he reads entire books on his own; the kind with big words in them.

he could count to 100, but now he can do it by 2’s, 5’s, 10’s, addition, subtraction, multiplication, fractions, and way beyond 100.

he couldn’t identify musical notes, and now he reads music fluently and plays piano beautifully.

At 5 Zac was still Mommy and Daddy’s little boy. Now he is our big boy and a loving, protective big brother. So what’s the big deal about turning 6…everything! Happy birthday big guy.

Two Years and Three Wheels

Bethany is 2! In the last year she has learned to walk; talk; count; sign; say her ABC’s; and recognize some words, colors, and shapes. She has also figured out how to ride a tricycle. Specifically, her brother Nathan’s bright red tricycle, and much to his dismay. Just when Nathan thinks he has his ride safely parked, Bethany jumps on and is on her way. Forget the stroller or wagon, she’s all about mobility. Now she has her own 3-wheel ride to keep her occupied, and, yes, it’s pink. She’s definitely not a baby anymore.

Despite her growing independence, Bethany is still our very little girl. She greets each day with enthusiasm and arms full of teddy bears. She dances with her whole body…feet stomping, arms waving, and head bobbing. She sings to express her feelings, usually of joy and excitement. When someone cries, she cries with them. If there is laughter, she is right in the middle of it with her infectious giggles. When she sees a heart shape, she smiles and calls it “happy.” She is as good at giving hugs and kisses as she is at getting them, and when she says “I love you,” it’s enough to melt any heart. At the end of the day, she wants to be carried by Daddy. A bath (“I like it” she says as she settles into the warm water), her favorite pajamas, a “read booky” request, and bedtime prayers with her brothers, and then it’s time to snuggle with Mommy. The last sigh as she falls asleep in my arms is the one that says she is ours and she is happy. Happy birthday, Bethany.

First Dance Recital

Since Zac was 2 years old and watching ballet on PBS, he has begged me to let him take dance. During the fall that he turned 3, I enrolled him in a ballet/tap class while we were living in Las Vegas, but we had to take him out when we decided to move only a few short months later. It took 2 more years before I could get him into a class again, but he still had the desire. So this last school year, Zac was outfitted with black ballet shoes, dance pants, a creative and willing teacher, and his own version of cautious enthusiasm for his preschool dance class. Through wind, rain, snow, and sunny afternoons when he would have rather been outside playing, Zac went to every class. His instructor worked up a recital routine that included two cute tunes for the preschoolers, one being a feature for the only boy in the Center Stage Dance company, Mr. Touchdown.

The night of the recital, Zac looked like the all-American boy in his green shirt with rolled-up sleeves and pink tie to match the girls’ dresses. We had talked about and practiced the dance, running with the football, and playing the part of the hero for the girls in his class who were cheering him on. I took him backstage, dressed him, and gave him a good-luck hug and kiss, then I headed off to find the rest of our troupe. As the lights went down and the curtain came up, Nathan sat transfixed by the performances. Bethany danced on her Daddy’s lap, copying the arm and leg movements of the dancers as best she could, and singing her heart out. Then Zac’s class came onstage. Nathan’s eyes sparkled as he pointed and shouted, “There’s Zac,” and Bethany jumped up and down and yelled “Zacky” as loud as her little voice would carry. Alas, it seemed that no amount of pumping Zac up before hand was going to off-set his incredible stage fright. He made it through his first routine with minimal effort, buried in the back row. Then, about a half dozen dances later, the preschoolers were back on stage for Mr. Touchdown. No more hiding in the back row. Zac was to run a pattern through the girls, take his place in the front row, dance his heart out, and then end by running through two lines of cheering girls for his big finish. With a deer-caught in the headlights look, he lumbered through the dance.

Zac showed tremendous courage to get up on that stage and dance for family, friends, and a host of strangers. He also gave Nathan and Bethany a taste of dance and a chance to cheer for their brother. As for me, I experienced a full-circle moment. From the time of my first childhood dance recital to this, I never imagined I’d be the parent in the audience watching and holding my breath as my child performed on stage. Twinkle toes Zac is not right now, but he is our hero, and we are proud of him.

Walking on Sunshine

In the long list of accomplishments and milestones of babyhood, a child’s first steps mark the transition from infant to toddler. The baby that yesterday could only crawl can now reach new heights, literally. In our house it’s an almost weekly assessment as to how far onto the countertop a new walker can reach in our ever vigilant quest to keep danger out of little hands.

Bethany has made the transition. It started right after Christmas when we saw her take her first steps in our kitchen. No cruising, no hesitation, just two little free-hand steps and a giggle of delight. Then nothing for weeks. Crawling was faster and easier. She could chase the boys and they could chase her. No one could push her over, and she had become adept at holding things in her mouth for transport like a cat carrying her kitten. If she really wanted to use her legs to move, Bethany would carefully and deliberately plant her feet, stand up, and pump her little legs up and down to dance to whatever music was playing. Sometimes she ended up back on her diaper-padded bottom, and sometimes not, but always smiling with delight at her ability to move her body in such a joyful way. Then in late January, she tried walking again. A few steps one day. A few more the next. A very little distance, then a little more and a little faster. She used everything from her arms to her toes to maintain her balance. In the last week, Bethany has walked more and crawled less each day. Her knees are still shaky and her balance is still a little tentative, but she is upright and proud of her accomplishment. Now she carries things in her hands that she couldn’t carry in her mouth. Now she can pull her sippy cup off the table or endlessly climb in and out of her rocking chair. Standing and walking have opened up new vistas.

I’ll miss her baby crawl. Her right leg tucked under her and her left leg propelling her forward with her arms pulling. The faster she’d go, the more likely there would be a little frog-like hop added at the end of each stroke for good measure. I’d like to remind her not to grow up too fast; being a grown up is overrated. For now we’ll just celebrate the bitter sweet success of yet another baby milestone conquered.