The Handshake

This post was inspired by former president George H.W. Bush, a member of the Greatest Generation,  who recently passed away. To me, he was an authentic example of the very masculine virtues of courage, commitment, loyalty, honor, compassion, and genuine leadership.  I pray that his life has inspired a new generation of leaders to carry on his legacy.

"It's possible to tell things by a handshake.  

I like the 'looking in the eye' syndrome.  It conveys interest.  

I like the firm, though not bone-crushing shake.  

The bone crusher is trying too hard to 'macho it.'  

The clammy or diffident handshake, fairly or unfairly, get me off to a 
bad start with a person. - George. H. W. Bush

Last weekend our trucking company hosted it's annual Christmas party.  This year we asked our two oldest sons, Benedict and Andrew, if they wanted to tag along, and to our surprise, they said yes. It was our hope that they would not only get to meet many of the amazing co-workers and employees, whom we work with, but also experience the joy of coming together for a meal to celebrate the blessings of the past year.

After a hearty steak dinner and some good ol' country swing dancing (yeah, we hired a DJ!), the evening slowly began to wind down. Little-by-little employees came to bid their good-byes, to offer gratitude to Steve for being a pretty great boss, and to wish us a Merry Christmas.

The parting conversation that really took us by surprise involved Ben and Andrew.  Several men approached Steve and shared with him how impressed they were with the boys' handshake. You read that right.  It wasn't their academic or athletic success or their handsome faces that made a strong impression (c'mon, it's a mama's right to say so!).

Nope, it was the handshake.

Most young men don't know how to shake another man's hand, or look him in the eye when introducing themselves.  But your boys sure do.

And with that, we knew we'd been doing something right in this whole mission of raising men. Score one for grace and perseverance!

Around the age of five or six, Steve takes a bit of time with each of the boys to teach them a proper handshake, how to introduce themselves, and the importance of making eye-contact when they do so.

Last week, as Steve reeled in Charlie and Joseph from the Lego table for a refresher lesson, I decided to observe the master at work.  In the past, I never really listened to Steve's instruction on this topic with the boys. But this time, as I slogged through a heaping sinkful of dirty dishes, I was completely enamored with their interaction:

Charlie, are you a son of God?
Yes, Dad.

Are you strong, courageous, and a boy of integrity?
Yes, Dad.

Well, when you meet someone for the first time, they don't know those things about you, they don't know who you are.  But if you stand up straight, look them in the eye, and speak your name with confidence, they will know exactly who you are.
Okay, Dad!

I understood, right then and there, that a boy's handshake (and a man's for that matter), is not just a common formality.  It's a powerful communicative experience of self, and of the other, for both the giver and the receiver.

Now, some of you may be saying, my boy is shy, I don't think it's fair to force him to shake hands. You're right, you shouldn't force him.  We've got a couple of shy ones in our bunch, too.  Shyness isn't looked upon with favor in our current culture, but it should not be shamed or dismissed.

I could write an entire post on the quiet, contemplative nature of my shy guys.  They are beautifully made in the image and likeness of God, and I have learned mountains upon mountains about the complexity of the human person from them!

We teach and train our sons every day, giving them tools that we believe will help them as they grow into manhood.  And we practice with them at home! Practice builds confidence, and confidence makes the moment of truth a little less intimidating.

Most of us have insecurities or weaknesses that can sometimes make social interactions  uncomfortable.  But I believe that, in certain moments, we are called to rise up out of those insecurities for a greater good. In this case, it's recognizing and acknowledging another person.

To give you an example of how we converse with the boys in matters of shyness, we gently remind them:
It's okay for you to feel shy! But, you will spend the rest of your life meeting new people, and we believe that you have what it takes to rise above your shyness, in that moment, and acknowledge the other person in a dignified way. You never know who you might meet! Don't miss the opportunity!

Boys are pretty basic. They don't always need flow charts, and field trips and crafts to communicate the simple lessons of life (trust me, I've tried all of the above, cue the sweat and tears).  They just need someone with a little grit and conviction to take a minute to teach them the life lessons that are so easily overlooked.  Lessons like a proper handshake.

"To build self-image, you need to join the smile, firm handshake, 
and compliment club.  -Zig Ziglar

My Interview With Thriving In the Trenches, and Why Modesty Means So Much to Me

As the mother of three little boys and four young men, summertime is always a busy, yet very exciting season for our family.  For me, personally, it's shuttling kids to baseball games, sports camps, running meals out to my hungry crew working in the field, and doubling down on purity talks with the oldest in our gang.

You read that right.

I have come to dread the fashion so typical of summer - short shorts, barely-there swim suits, high hemlines, etc., etc.  I dread it because everywhere we go, I mean everywhere, including church (which saddens me greatly), I see my boys constantly having to avert their eyes.  I sense their discomfort in the presence of any lady immodestly dressed, and my heart aches for them -  for them, and for the girl.

I never gave much thought to the importance of modesty and fashion until I became a mom and came to understand, with great intensity, the importance of my duty to raise our sons in the way of purity and virtue.

Modest dress wasn't really a topic my parents had to discuss with me as a young person. Knee length shorts, flannels, and waist-high jeans were what everyone wore back in the day (virtual fist bump to all my 90's homies out there!).  My mom and dad had more reason to be concerned about my choice of music and the obscene amount of hairspray I went through on a weekly basis, than they did about my choice of clothing. If you saw my bangs back then, you would understand.

So, when I was asked by Becky Carter and Megan Schrieber, the hosts and founders of the incredible podcast series, Thriving in the Trenches, if I would be willing to dialogue with them on the topic of modesty, I was both excited and hesitant.

Excited, because I truly enjoy writing and conversing with others on the topics relating to authentic masculinity and femininity, and how God has created us as men and women to be true expressions of his love and beauty in this world.

Hesitant, because I don't ever want my passions for, and expressions of the truth, to communicate a lack of sensitivity toward those who may not know that their choice of dress has a such strong impact upon the opposite sex.

Although the topic of modesty can cover a variety of facets, a few of which include modesty in speech and affection, I knew that Becky and Megan were hoping to dive into the arena of fashion, which can sometimes be a hefty topic, especially amongst mothers.

If you know me, you might be wondering why a mother with seven sons would even care to begin a dialog on modesty.  The reason why I care is the very reason why I accepted Becky and Megan's invitation.  I care about modesty, because I care about my sons.  I care about their friends.  I care about the girls whom they may one day have the privilege of dating and possibly even marrying.

I care about your girls.  I care about you.  I care about us.

I've written about modesty before, but as our sons are growing well into their teen and late-teen years, I'm becoming even more passionate about the topic.  If you're thinking I can't possibly understand how terribly difficult and frustrating it is to find modest, yet fashionable clothing for a daughter since I don't have one of my own, you are right!

I cannot fully understand, but, I can empathize!

The other day I popped into a local boutique in search of a dress for my son's 8th grade graduation. To my great disappointment,  I sifted through nearly a dozen racks before finding something that was longer than the tan line from my running shorts.  Every option prior to the one I found left me wondering, is this a shirt or a dress??

Ladies, if the answer to hat question is, it's a dress, keep shopping.

I've conversed with so many mothers over the years whose shopping expeditions with their daughters require an adequate supply of chocolate, wine, and Hail Mary's.  The struggle is more than real.

But I need you to keep struggling.

Please. Keep working, keep dealing with the eye-rolls and heavy sighs, the piles of ill-fitting garments on the dressing room floor, the non-stop marathon trek from store to store to store.

Why do I ask this of you? Because, in order for the boys in this world to become the kind of men your daughters need and deserve (not just in marriage, but in friendship, in work relationships, and in general every-day encounters), they need your help.

I need your help.

My husband and I take very seriously the physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual formation of our sons.  Every day involves some kind of conversation with regards to the greatness - yes, the greatness of their calling as men to honor and uphold the dignity of every woman they meet. This is why neither belching at the table, nor form-tackling a girl for the last bite of brownie is ever appropriate (not that they do that, but they might if they had a sister).

I can go on and on about the beauty and wonder of a girl, how she is truly a masterpiece, made in the image and likeness of God, I can fill our son's minds with the highest theological truths of God's design for men and women, their complimentary roles, and what the role of man is in relation to woman, but none of it - I mean none of it will anchor into their souls unless the girls they meet represent that truth to them.

As women, we cannot speak beauty and truth into the hearts of men if our words and our actions, noble though they may be, are overshadowed by the cry for attention that comes from immodest dress. This is not meant to be a shaming or a criticism! I'm a daughter, I'm a woman, too. I speak this message to myself as well, and I share these points with a heart of love and encouragement!

Just as girls should never be criticized or marginalized for their emotional and sensitive tendencies (those are gifts!), neither should men be looked down upon for being visually attracted to women. God has placed this instinct in man's nature for a purpose, and though it is one that must be reigned by prudence and self-control, it has the potential to serve a wonderful purpose in healthy, respectful relationships.

This is where modest dress comes into play.  The mystery of modest dress not only shows respect and consideration for our brothers in Christ, but it also offers them the opportunity, or better yet, the challenge to get to know a woman.  Men love a challenge!

Guys don't need any help realizing how beautiful our bodies are.  Lack of imagination is not one of their weaknesses.  But they do need help seeing the beauty of our interior.  If what we truly long for is for a man to appreciate both our external and interior beauty, it is important that our choice of clothing ultimately directs a man's attention to our interior.

I witnessed a wonderful representation of this very fact a few weeks ago at a high school graduation party. While juggling our one year old on my lap and casually picking out the baked beans he had so generously smeared in my hair, I saw our oldest two sons conversing with a charming group of young ladies.  Each of them were modestly dressed in super-fun attire.  Their faces glowed with goodness and joy.

While our sons may have experienced severe deodorant failure over being tongue tied in the presence of such loveliness, they were eventually able to relax and be themselves, able to make eye-contact and carry on conversation within the group. Because they weren't distracted by anyone's immodest dress, they could be attracted to their goodness!

It's truly incredible to think that a woman's beautiful, yet modest presence alone is enough to make a man stand taller, think sharper, work harder, and pray for a whit and humor that will attract us to him! I call that powerful! I call that freedom - when we simply trust in the sincere goodness and beauty that God has created within us with as women, we do not have to act in opposition to our nature by dressing inappropriately, in order to convince a man that we are worthy of his kindness and respect. We simply just have to be ourselves.

Man will not rise up to the excellence he is called to by God, if we continue to diminish his potential with our lack of attentiveness to our own call to true femininity.  A world of ladies will spur on a world of gentlemen, and a world of gentlemen will give rise to a world of ladies.

Yesterday, I asked a wonderful friend of mine, a mother of teen girls, what she believes is the biggest hurdle for girls in understanding their personal dignity and how it relates to the way that they dress.

Her answer was simple: self image.

Her words are true.  I don't think any girl has ever not questioned her self worth at one time or another.  If girls do not feel good about who they are on the inside, they will naturally place a higher priority on the exterior image in order to achieve the sense of affirmation and attention they long for.

This is why I dearly long for girls to understand their personal sense of dignity, purpose, value and worth. Because when they do, the choice to dress modestly will come more naturally.  They will find that they can trust their gifts, trust who they were made to be, and in the end see that they have a great ability to inspire the men of this world to also be who they are meant to be - providers and protectors of the lives and dignity of women, men who honor, uplift, support, and acknowledge the treasure of womanhood in this world.

I pray my boys will one day become such men.

{If you care to listen to the podcast, here is the link: Modesty as an Act of Charity }

Tour #6 of the Terrible Two's ~ Where Time Out is Taken With Three Hail Marys and a Shot of Baileys {in the Coffee}

This is our sixth round of pullingourhairout drinking bribing guiding a child through through the terrible twos. You would think that at this stage of the discipline game that we would be on cruise control.  Not so my friends, not so. 

Behold the beloved:

I'm coming for you!

The only thing I know for sure about surviving this unpleasant stage of a toddler's life is: 

1. I can always blame my addiction to chocolate on their naughtiness, and 

2. It won't last forever - the terrible twos, not the chocolate addiction (that's permanent, I'm afraid).

Cheeseburger grin of innocence.

Living with a two year old is kind of like watching that one TV show that's frustrating and awesome at the same time (Downton Abbey). The one where you throw things at the screen because the plot is not going the direction that you think it should go (Matthew dies), but then something awesome happens (cue Dowager Countess every time), and suddenly it's your favorite thing ever again.

Spotty, yet accurate, iphone evidence or our typical testosterone filled breakfast.

Joseph is a 24/7 plot twister.  He lures his parents in with those enchanting blue eyes, sweet kisses and sugary giggles.  We are crazy in love with his (non-tantrum) vocals, because they are seriously adorable! At any given time he's serenading us with his with his curly little voice, calling out the names of his brothers, Cluh! (Charlie), Doh! (Andrew), Honey! (Henry) and, totally charmed, we are certain the tyranny is over. 

Not a second later he is clobbering us over the head with that shrilling scream that is something like a meat mallet on our nerves.

Just last week, as I was strapping Blaise to myself in the baby sling and throwing back the last shot of caffeinated hope for the morning, I heard a loud thunk. Strolling over to the window, sure to find the infractor facing the wrong direction in the yard with a baseball bat, I was surprised to see this instead:

#6 flesh of my flesh, bone of my bones.  Holding a tomato from my garden.  Winding up his chubby little pale-flesh limb for another chuck.

He wasn't throwing my tomatoes at anything or anyone specific, he was just randomly shot-putting them into the wind.  Because those 5 bazillion dollars I've spent on every size and kind of ball for our offspring over the years is apparently not working for him?  Maters are where it's at.

Now, if he was chucking cucumbers at the house, I'd be so chilled.  Because, seriously, I cannot. eat. another. cucumber.  But tomatoes, I've been waiting all summer long for those babies! 

From the top of the deck I stared down with my high-blood pressure face ablaze and gave the little Mr. the what for.  Oh, I'm sure you can probably guess what he gave me.

That's right.  He gave me the meat mallet.  

NOOOOOOO, MOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!

Right there.  Right then.   Pumpkin angel told me, no.

What did I do? I went back inside, poured another cup of coffee, threw in some Baileys, said three Hail Mary's, and called daddy for some moral support.

If you've been where I've been then you know just how challenging it is to be patient during this stage of your tots life.  On top of the natural pressure we place upon ourselves to handle each and every circumstance the right way, there's also so much advice out there to wade through, what to do, what not to do, what's normal, what's not normal.  Seven kids later, goodness knows I've heard or read more than my fair share of it all.

If this is your first time wading into the terrible twos waters with your tot, or if that stage is just on the horizon, here's a short list of parenting points to ponder that Steve and I have collected over the years. Most of them have stemmed from the trusted advice of great mentors and great authors*, and others have been fine-tuned through trial and error. Collectively, they are tips that have proven to be the most helpful and fruitful for us when we stick to them with love and consistency. 

1. Be Consistent 

Whatever method of discipline you choose to use, whether it's time out, early bed time, taking away privileges, etc. just be consistent and follow through.  I can't stress this enough.  We have failed at this so many times and paid the consequences.  Discipline may be difficult in the moment, but in the long run it's easier on you and on your child.

2.  Chill Out

I know this is obvious, yet challenging at the same time, but you have to be calm.  Children are so perceptive. They know instantly when a parent's fire is lit, and if your child is even slightly strong willed, parental anger just ignites in them the will to compete or defy. Discipline is not a competition. You are in charge, so just stay calm, stay the course, and expect the child to dislike and rebel against the boundaries you have set - that's normal!  You're not bending a will, your shaping an attitude, and that can take time.  

3. Love 'Em Up 

Sometimes our kids' bad behavior is really just a cry for love. I've really noticed this with Joey. Some mornings I put him in time-out a dozen times before we've even finished breakfast. Sigh. Why? Really I just need to stop what I'm doing for a moment, hold him on my lap, hug him, laugh with him or read him a story. When I take this approach, his mood and behavior instantly improves.  Love and affection is magical! Give 'em some one-on-one time and see what happens.

4. Watch Your Language

Try using specific language, or "trigger words" with them.  A couple of our favorites are This is not acceptable behavior, and You re in charge! Or, You get to choose!  When a child is being argumentative or defiant we give them two win-win options and explain that they get to be in charge of the decision they make.  

For example, I might say, Joseph, you may either sit down and eat your lunch or go to nap-time early. I will let you decide.  You get to be in charge! You have two minutes to choose, or I will choose for you.  I set the timer and wait for his response.  Either one is a win-win for me!  

5.  Praise 'Em

Words of affirmation are really important during this stage.  If my kids are tuning me out, it's usually because I'm using more disciplinary words (in a frustrated tone) and not enough affirmative ones.  Be intentional about catching your kids making good choices, and then affirm them specifically.  I like the way you shared your toys today! Or, Thank you for saying please and thank you at supper! You're such a big boy!

6.  Be Strategic

Don't attempt big outings when your kids are hungry or tired. It's a sure recipe for a fiery melt-down. Man, have I made this mistake too many times!  Little ones simply cannot understand the mental flowchart that we moms have strategically drawn up for the day. No matter how creatively we try to explain our plans to them or reason through specifics with them it's like spaghetti in their little heads. So, we must be realistic about our expectations and smart about scheduling if we want to avoid unnecessary conflict.

7.  Show Mercy

Be affectionate after punishment. After we put Joseph in time out (which he hates, because he has to be in a room by himself), we try to remember to pause, kneel down, hug him and remind him why he was punished, and then express that we love him and that he gets a chance to try again.

8.  Quit Counting

I hope I'm not offending anyone here, but the countdown method is not a good idea.  Telling a child they have five seconds to do anything means that they will max out that five seconds and risk being disciplined.  Again, we know this to be true through trial and error.  I'm not sure where I read this but offering the child a single warning and explaining the consequence they will receive if they refuse to stop their behavior seems to be much more effective. If you find yourself saying, "Stop!" over and over again, that is the same as counting.  You have to give the warning and discipline immediately if they do not adhere to your warning.

The only exception to this suggestion is if a child is hurting another child, then there's not warnings, discipline is immediate.

9. Brag Don't Bemoan 

Don't speak negatively about your child to others in front of your child.  If they constantly hear you telling others that he/she is going through the terrible twos, is so naughty, is exasperating you, they will more than likely fulfill their role as the "naughty one." But, if they hear you say positive things about them to others, especially if you praise them in front of your spouse, they will absolutely light up and they will know that you love them and believe in them - this will (hopefully) motivate them toward obedience. Again, so guilty of this here, because sometimes we moms just need to vent, am I right? We just have to be prudent about the time and place we choose to vent. 

10.  Encourage 

Be encouraging and show a little mercy to others and to yourself.  A couple of weeks ago, I was in a bookstore purchasing some materials that I needed for our homeschool year.  Joseph was in a serious funk.  I had asked an older brother to help watch Joey while I shopped, but I could still hear Joseph's pipes vocalizing his discontent with life.  I finally had to seek out the manager and apologize for my son's behavior.  To my surprise, the manager was so kind and gentle with me.  With his understanding, I instantly felt the parent perfect weight on my shoulders lighten up.  We need to extend that kind of grace and understanding to others, and to ourselves as well. 

Sometimes children are down right awful because their parents have failed to love and nurture them with proper discipline. But, most of the time, kids are just being kids.  They're trying to figure out life in this big world and how they fit in to all of it.  It's a big job to love and lead our little ones in the right direction, and I know for a fact that it's easier when we set our critical eye aside and show some mercy and support to one another instead.

Gotta run - Joey is blowing his nose.  In the curtains.

Have a great week!

*A few of our favorite trusted resources:

Any book or podcast by Dr. Ray Guarendi

Any book or podcast by Dr. Meg Meeker

Any book or podcast by Dr. Kevin Leman

Love and Logic

Choredom: Trust Me, It's a Good Thing

Check out Captain Long Legs:

He does not get those stilts from me. I'll spare you the photos, but if you need a visual, think tree-trunkish.

That kid is one of the top reasons why blogging has taken a serious backseat this summer.  I'm either feeding him (major budget breaker), shopping for bigger shoes and longer britches for his body that won't. stop. growing., or following him around the house like a shadow, desperate to stay as close to him as possible, for as long as possible before he packs up and moves out of mi casa (hello, heartbreak in three short years).

As much as this photo of him makes me weep a thousand tears, it also makes me smile as many smiles, because I am so thankful for who Benedict is, and how he is growing up to be such a fine young man. (Not perfect, but pretty darn great.) There are no back pats with that statement - it's 100% God's grace and goodness.  I mean it.)

Because I have such an intense awareness of the passing of time, my immediate reaction to the pain is to spoil Ben.  I know, it's ridiculous! I really don't mean spoil in the material sense, but in the let's have fun, and go do stuff, and eat lots of ice cream, and forget about work sense.

Thankfully, my husband has more mature ideas than I do.  He's right there with his handy-dandy sense of reason to balance out my maternal need to suffocate our teenage son with unlimited supplies of food and hugs.

One of the hubs' ideas is to keep the chore train chugging along.

While most people are currently posting about their fabulous summer vacays (which I happen to love!), afternoons at the pool and the beach, baseball games, and outdoor theatre, my camera reel is a little lighter in the recreational department.  

C'est la farm vie!

Don't get me wrong, my boys L.O.V.E. farm life, but they don't love everything about it.  Especially roguing.  For those of you who's closest experience to farming is going to the farmer's market, roguing is just a fancy word for pulling weeds.

Last Saturday, I thought I would be Mrs. Motivated and sneak out of the house before Blaise woke up to squeeze a run in before breakfast.  My sneaking went about as far as the kitchen, where I found four tired boys sitting in sleepy silence, sliding on their work boots, waiting for dad to drag them out to the soybeans that needed to be rogued.

All my hugs and promises of pancakes upon their return couldn't wipe the pathetic look of choredom off their faces.

I hate seeing my boys unhappy.  But, you know what? Even though I hate it, I'm pretty much okay with it, and let me tell you why.

As much as we all want our kids to grow up, go to college and become instantly successful, barring some miraculous intervention, the titles of CEO or head coach are not going to be bestowed upon them post-graduation.

This means that, more than likely, they are going to have to sit as the low man on the totem pole for a while, no matter what career path they choose.  And, often with the L.M.O.T.T.P. rank, come the less than desirable tasks that no one wants to do.

Poor things. They will probably feel overqualified and underpaid while answering the call to perform such menial tasks. BUT (finger's crossed) I'm hoping they won't throw a tantrum, and will actually be able to endure the monotony...if they have any sort of interior grit whatsoever.

So, how do you get your kiddos some of that grit? Well, based on personal experience, I really believe that the best grit-builder is chores. Serious chores.  Not just clean your room chores or take out the trash chores. I'm talking about chores that take time and dedication to finish.  Mowing and trimming the lawn, cleaning out the garage - top to bottom, detailing the family car, pulling weeds, and shoveling snow.

By the way, I'm totally convinced that folding laundry and sock-matching builds better hand-eye coordination than hours sitting in front of the X-Box.  I've seen it for myself.  No video game pro can top my boys speed when it comes to a game of knuckles or snatching the last cookie from the jar.

Most nights, Steve and I don't do dishes after the evening meal.  After watching our children receive the bounty of our hard work, we retire to the living room with a glass of wine while they take their stuffed little tummies to the kitchen where they team up to return my domain to ship-shape condition before any other evening activities ensue.

Of course they moan and groan about it.  That's normal.  And then there's the towel snapping and arm wrestling which always leads to some sort of squabble, which interrupts our sipping of the grapes, which leads to one of us redirecting their focus with threats of double vegetables and no dessert for a week.

Anyway, this particular chore of KP duty is just one of the many grit-building opportunities we give to our children. They also clean bathrooms, do laundry, mow and trim the lawn, and change diapers (gasp!). I'm probably painting a work-house picture here but, honestly, chores actually make up a very small portion of our children's day, and amazingly, the time that they contribute to the economy of the home makes the time that they have to play, rest, socialize, or participate in activities even sweeter.

I know it sounds crazy, but work actually makes for happier, more confident, more grateful kids.

If you haven't already experienced choredom resistance from your kids, I assure you at some point you will.  Eventually chore charts with cute rewards will no longer be enough to entice them to keep their rooms clean.  They will pout, sulk, cry, and utter every grievance over your expectations of them....anything to wear you down and make you feel guilty for asking them to lift a precious finger to help.

If and when that happens, don't throw your hands up! Don't give up! Stay calm and stay the course. Remember, if you need a little leverage to get them to cooperate, you can always dangle the car keys, cell phone, television time, or fun with friends privileges out in front of their scowling faces. (Those are priveleges, not rights of entitlement.)

Our approach to chores isn't militaristic, it's just matter of fact.  Being a part of a family means there will always be chores, and why should mom and dad do everything? When we as parents shoulder all of the responsibilities of the home, and on top of that, shuttle our kids to every activity on the planet, we deny our children vital opportunities to gain the virtues and skills necessary to become generous individuals who are mindful of others. Virtues and skills that will also bolster their confidence so that they might assert themselves in the most challenging circumstances in order to aspire toward the dreams and goals they desire to achieve in life.

Offering our boys opportunities that have the potential to form them to become steadfast, dedicated, resilient members of society isn't solely meant to help them temporarily survive the hum-drum duties that their future careers might require of them.  They are also meant to give them the lasting and meaningful strength to rise up to, rather than shirk, those less than desirable tasks that are a necessary part of maintaining a healthy thriving community, church, and/or family.

Who will stay a little longer to clean up the trash-strewn stadium after a ball game? Who will give up a golf game to organize the fundraiser for a friend in need? Who will sacrifice social time to stand in line and serve at the soup kitchen on a Saturday morning? Who will give up an afternoon of football to shovel snow for an elderly neighbor? Who will sacrifice sleep for night time feedings and diaper changes?

I hope that my boys will.

In fact, I hope that no matter what career path they choose, or how successful they become, that they will always have the interior conviction to recognize and confront the hard things in life, the less-than-appealing duties that need to get done, and that they will tackle those duties with humility and perseverance.

But, you know what? Hope is a great virtue, but hope doesn't stand on it's own.  It needs legs.  And legs look like opportunity, and for our kids, opportunity looks like chores. Chores really could be the tool that builds a solid foundation made of hard work and meaningful experiences.  A foundation that gives solid support to the purpose that the Lord has in mind for each of our boys to fulfill.

Time to wrap this up! The boys have moseyed in from mowing and are looking forward to an afternoon at the pool.

If you're a parent who also believes in chores, but have felt alone in that area of parenting, I hope that you feel some support today! And, if you've been hesitant or afraid that chores might turn your child's life upside down (well, they will, but your kiddos will be okay, and so will you!), I hope that you feel encouraged to give it a go!

A Peek at My 28 Week Baby Belly & Why Being the Mother of Boys Has Made Me a Better Woman

Here it is, my 28 week preggo belly pic.  I know.  What belly, right? Oh, it's there, trust me, it's there. Even though Charlie is using his sibling for lumbar support, you can still see a bit o' the bump peeking out from behind the line up. I get points for that, right?

{Our 20 month Joseph displaying his rare, yet hilarious gift for eye-rolling.}

Oh, my boys.

And, could it be that there's one more little man curled up beneath my heart? We shall have to wait and see!

I love surprises. What's not surprising, though, is how many times per week someone stops me in a parking lot or grocery line, points to my middle, and asks if we're having another boy.  Even more common is the question, "Were you trying for a girl?" Or the comment, "Oh, you poor thing, you're terribly outnumbered."

My first thought is always, trying for a girl? Please, if you know one woman in this world who has tried SEVEN times to get a mini-me, I want to meet her, because I don't believe she exists.  

My second thought is always, If I could only tell you how mothering boys has made me a better woman in so many ways.

How is that, you say?

Well, let me begin by listing just a few personal improvements that have resulted from being immersed in a testosterone-filled dwelling all day:

1.  I am finally figuring out how to let sh** go.  

Sorry if that's a bit abrupt, but there's just no other way to put it, really. You know we ladies like to agonize over the teeniest tiniest little things.  We let issues of little objective importance bother us way. too. much.  We can learn a few lessons from the boys in this department of life. Boys get hurt, or angry or frustrated too, but then they get on their bikes and ride like the Tazmanian Devil around the block, they ram their Tonka trucks into into piles of building blocks a thousand times, they jump off the couch and over aunt Ethel's antique vase until they're sweaty and dizzy with confidence again, and then they go refuel with a snack and move on with the day, forgetting what even tripped their trigger in the first place.  I love that about them. And I love that their ability to stay focused on what matters is rubbing off on me, too.

2.  I am learning to forgive and forget. 

Boys are quick to forgive.  Yeah, they might have to duke things out in the alley for a bit, but those same flying fists soon become high fives and hand shakes. We're not like that, ladies.  We cry and then we cry some more, and we expect everyone in our camp to cry with us. On top of that, we remember every little last flippin detail about how we were wounded in the second grade by so and so on the playground, and we carry all that crap around with us all day every day. No wonder most of us are vertically challenged.  Wanna know how it feels to just get over stuff? Good, dang good.

3. I am giving up the phrase "nothing's wrong."

Because, most of the time, you and I both know that that's a load of crap.  Have you ever noticed how boys don't beat around the bush (unless they're in trouble, of course)?  They tell it like it is.  I'll admit that sometimes their communication lacks tact and charity, but their honesty is far better than that old passive aggressive response of nothing is wrong when the truth is, something really is wrong.  Boy have I found some serious freedom in just speaking my mind and heart with those I'm closest to - even at the risk of rejection or misunderstanding. Thank ya, boys.

I could go on, but it's Friday and you have laundry to ignore and wine to drink (I hope).  

Anyway...

I don't really begrudge the reactive sentiments of others toward our boy-dominant family. Part of me understands that their sympathies and well wishes for a girl are of good intention. The other part of me also realizes that our culture places a high value upon the optimal family, and that that ideal is often expressed in a one girl, one boy household.

So, being the mother of six, potentially seven boys, is likely to generate a variety of reactions, few of which, unfortunately, are of the affirming kind. (But I'm okay with that.  See #1 above.)

Yes, I am outnumbered.  But, as children are not meant to be trophies that we as women display on our shelf of "hear me roar" accomplishments, I do not feel it necessary to seek satisfaction or admiration in producing a particular sex (as if I have anything to do with that). Babies are not to be likened with pets that exist for our personal fulfillment or comfort.

Babies are a gift.

The purpose of their existence does not lie in satisfying a parent's personal ambitions or dreams. To even pursue the ambition of parenthood, all the while seeking an "optimal outcome" - whether that be two girls and two boys, or one boy and one girl, is in itself selfish in nature, because children are not given to us for us, they are given to us so that we might receive them in love, raise them in love, and prepare them in love to give love back to the world, and ultimately to the Lord.

I've experienced moments when I've thought, or even felt that it would would be absolutely lovely to have a girl in our family, for many reasons, one of which would be to have someone similar to relate to in feminine nature. But, it would be terribly short sided of me to focus on what isn't instead of focusing on what is.  That would imply that something (or someone) is lacking in our family, and that simply isn't true.

In fact, I cannot quite express in adequate terms how delightfully wonderful it has been to be surprised by the unexpected gifts that mothering boys has brought into my life (yes, even in spite of the awful teenage smells, devastation to the walls and furniture, and inability to use the flusher mechanism on the toilet).

Being surrounded by little (and big) men has not left me feeling isolated, inferior or alone.  On the contrary, the experience has made me ever more aware of my unique feminine gifts and as a result, has shaped me into better woman than I was before having children. Better because I have come to see the vital importance of authentically living my feminine qualities, and I hope that in doing so I might foster in them some of my own God-given strengths and virtues, while at the same time, allowing myself to be influenced by theirs.

I love to back over the past 15 years and see just how remarkably fruitful familial relationships can truly become when family members are encouraged to express and live the gifts of their very nature, though they be different, in a complimentary fashion.

It is a beautiful thing to witness my children develop in character, virtue and maturity, thanks in part to my feminine influences.  Those influences are exercised without diminishing, belittling, or reducing who my sons are in their masculine nature.  Their healthy, God-given masculine gifts are encouraged and affirmed, and those virtues that are weak or lacking in them are nurtured and encouraged by me, because they are natural to me.  One does not the place of the other, it's both-and.

Some of our juniors climb trees, shoot guns, are fiercely competitive, wrestle and duke to express love, and others prefer less of those things and a more thoughtful, reserved pace of life.  No matter what their passions or personalities, the boys all have common masculine strengths and traits that are very important for me to recognize, honor, and nurture in them in the most positive manner.  They can be themselves, and feel proud of their masculine identity, because I affirm those masculine traits in them through my words and actions. They in turn (hopefully) are open to recognizing who I am as a woman - different, but not competitive, a compliment to who they are, not a counterpoint.

Sure, my boys like for me to shoot a gun too, to jump on the trampoline, and contribute to conversation about tractors and pickups.  But they don't need me to be one of the boys.  

They need me to be me.

Gentle, yet firm.  Empathetic yet encouraging.  Clean, pretty (every boy thinks his mama is pretty), soft, and smellin' good, yet willing to roll up my sleeves and get dirty when it's time to get a job done.

The wonderful thing about males and females living up to their complimentary roles in the world is that it can be surprisingly harmonious, joyful, and fruitful (yes, despite our sinful natures).  This is all despite the heavy negative emphasis our culture insists on placing upon our differences.  (More good reading on that right here.)

Yes, we are different, not for the sake of comparison, but for the sake of complimentarity.  It's only when one gender refuses to authentically honor the God-given strengths specific to their nature in this complimentary fashion, preferring instead to demean or diminish the nature of the opposite sex, that tension between the two arises.

Several years ago, I attended a women's conference where Dr. Rhonda Chervin was the key-note speaker. She is a feminist to the core, but in the positive sense that she has a great passion to understand how God has created women with a very specific nature, and how He has given us particular strengths and particular gifts that are completely unique to our gender, all of which are meant to serve Him in tremendous ways in this world.

The great take-away for me from her teaching was that each person, male and female, possesses dominant strengths and virtues, and those virtues vary depending upon the individual, but are different according gender - and they differ for a reason.

God is the perfection of all virtue. He is the perfection of every masculine virtue, and every feminine virtue, without being effeminate.  God is father, Jesus is son. They are men, and they are the perfection of all that is good - which is what we as Christians are striving for in the spiritual life.

I don't become less feminine when I begin to embody and develop the virtues of courage, loyalty, persistence, and ambition all of which are typically dominant virtues in the masculine nature.  Rather, I become a more complete, more authentic woman. The same is true for men and their acquisition of the more natural feminine virtues such compassion, thoughtfulness, tenderness, and the ability to nurture others.

Please know that I am certainly not trying to stereotype men and women.  We all have different degrees in which we embody and express our masculine and feminine traits.  I am simply trying to point out the differences as well as the similarities of masculinity and femininity in hopes that you will recognize them as compliment, not counteractive.

If you were to describe the most natural traits of women, you might use words like empathetic, social, relational, sensitive, cautious, prudent, kind, and generous to name a few.  And, if you were to describe the most natural traits of men, you might say that they are energetic, loyal, ambitious, courageous, protective, fearless, analytical, and focused.

To truly become holy - a whole person in Christ - we must understand that God, in His wisdom, will stretch us and mold us through circumstances and relationships so that we might live our most natural virtues to the fullest, but also so that we might acquire and exercise those virtues which are least familiar, less natural to us.

I always think of Mother Theresa when pondering this truth.  Can you imagine anyone to be more gentle, nurturing, loving, or empathetic than her? She was truly the deepest, dearest expression of the beauty and power that can emanate from of an authentically feminine woman through and through. And, yet, she had an incredible sense of courage, loyalty, perseverance, stead-fastness, focus and ambition, all of which tend to be more masculine traits and were virtues secondary to her nature.

As she became more Christlike, who she was as a woman of God did not diminish or repeal others - it attracted them! It inspired them! Her very presence helped others to desire to become more Christlike, more holy, more whole.

This is the very thing that my sons have done for me, but only because by grace I have chosen to nurture their dearest masculine qualities, and come to embrace the tremendous good in exemplifying those feminine virtues, which are secondary to them, that they so desperately need to acquire in order to become fully alive in Christ themselves.

They have shown me how to quickly forgive, fearlessly try new things, remain loyal in friendships (despite differences), and maintain a persistent focus on my goals.  In turn, I hope to have shown them how to be sincere, empathetic, how to care for the needs of the littlest persons in our home, and how to exercise prudence and caution in certain situations that call for it.

When we choose to live in a mindset of comparison and competition with the opposite sex, we risk losing our authentic selves in the process.  We can forget to be ourselves, because we're so hyper-focused on being as good as, or better than others.  

It's all simply a waste of time and energy.  

As parents we are naturally going to encounter comments and reactions between opposing sexes that are marked with disdain and discord. That is normal, isn't it?  We can't possibly love and understand everything about the opposite sex because we are so different in nature, and aspects of those natures will always remain a mystery to us.  

But, we can appreciate and respect what is different in each other, and we can honor the goodness in those differences (which is Christ!), by upholding the dignity of one another through word and action, and especially through living fully the gifts proper to our own unique nature, be it masculine or feminine, with enthusiasm, gratitude, and joy. 

It is truly an honor to know that God entrusts these fine boys to my care, and should He find it fitting to give us yet another son, the blessings will only be multiplied.

And the Big Brother Club Gains a New Member

Hello, Joseph.  

Welcome to the Big Brother Club.

Sometime in May, you will no longer hold the title of Baby of the Family, but will move up the ranks to the honorary position of Big Brother.

Your promotion to Big Brother is a privilege, and it with it comes great responsibility.  We know that giving up your place as Baby will be difficult at times, but trust us, becoming a big brother is awesome.

Right now, as a 16 month old tot,  you have absolutely no idea what it means to be a member of something so special, but soon you will. And when the time comes, we will be right here to show you the ropes.  You're gonna be a great big bro, Joey, and one thing's for certain, you're gonna love it. 

We promise.

Preparing the Sunday Dress ~ On the Feast of Saints Joachim and Anne

Today the Catholic Church celebrates the feast of Saints Joachim and Anne, the parents of the Blessed Virgin Mary, our Mother.  As I prepared the boys' clothes for Mass this morning, I couldn't stop thinking about the two of them who prayed fervently for a child, promising to dedicate their child to the service of our Lord, should they be so blessed.

I have to admit that there was a moment when sarcasm crept into my thoughts toward the pious ones. Oh, really people. How hard could it have been to raise a sinless child. Must have been tough livin' on Easy Street with one who does no wrong. 

(Insert palm to forehead right here).

But I know, as you do too, that parenting a child, no matter how perfect they may be, is never an easy undertaking.

Although Mary was ever-sinless, Joachim and Anne did not take for granted their supreme duty to nurture a deep love and devotion for God within their daughter.  Through the ordinary undertakings of their everyday lives, they were ultimately preparing Mary to know, to love and to receive Jesus Christ with her entire being.

Don't you love my classy assortment of plastic hangers??

I suppose, through my little Sunday morning routine of pressing out pants and starching shirts for our six sons to wear to Holy Mass, I am preparing them, in a small way, to receive Jesus, too.

Over the years I've received equal amounts of compliments and criticisms for the way I dress the boys for church. Everything from "Man, your boys sure look handsome!" to "Boy, you guys are a little fancy for church, don't ya think?"

I wouldn't exactly call well-worn khakis from Target fancy, but whatever.  What our family wears to mass is never about impressing the locals or making a fashion statement.  It's about approaching the highest point of our week with the proper disposition, inside and out, and dressing accordingly for that which we are about to receive.

I once heard a wise priest respond in this way to those who say, It doesn't matter what I wear to church, because Jesus loves me no matter what:

It is not the love Jesus has for you that is in question, but rather the love you have for Him.

His words have stuck with me ever since.

Our boys love sports, and they certainly know the value of dedicating themselves to all of the necessary preparations to compete.  Game day is always ceremonial. Mentally they contemplate all aspects of the game, emotionally they invest themselves, heart and soul, into the quest for victory, physically they have trained their bodies and dress that body with dignity and pride.

I would be amiss if I did not impress upon them, by word and example, the greater good of preparing themselves for Mass, beginning, but not ending with, the way that they dress.

I realize that tending to the boys' dress requires extra time and attentiveness on my part, but I'm becoming quite fond of the task.  It is an opportunity to pray for the child whose clothes I am washing and pressing, and to admire and appreciate the beautiful differences in each boy, especially as they are all growing in different ways in the spiritual life.

I pray that as our sons grow up and move on to fulfill their purpose in life, beyond our home, that they will continue to love their Catholic faith, and that in their devotion to our Lord, they will find that, in taking the time to dress well for Mass, they honor Him with their love and attentiveness.

{Linking up with the ladies at Fine Linen and Purple for What I Wore Sunday.}

 Dress: TJ Maxx 

Accessories: Francesca's

Shoes: Zappos

Some Relationships Just Aren't Meant to Be ~ Summer Baseball Season Saga

I don't really know how to tell you guys this, but after a month of heart-felt reflection, I think it's time I shared the news: Baseball and I are no longer in love.  No longer a couple.  We broke up, like three weeks ago.  I doubt we'll ever get back together.

Probably.

Maybe.

It happens every winter.  I start to feel a little claustrophobic in the confines of our "cozy" house. It's our New Year's resolution every year to fight the winter blahs with grit and determination. Steve finds CrossFit and tractor stuff to be useful.  The boys get together and invent indoor games like mini-football, three-limb wrestling, and NBA Nerf dunk contests.  But I, I just spend my "free time" trying to pretend that the bloody nose drips on the couch, shredded carpet and those "I-don't-know-who-did-that" craters in the walls, the ones that flake fine white dust about the house, don't bother me.

No prob, I say.  The distressed look is in.

I divert my eyes from the disasters with the beauty of homemade bread and cookies, and by pinning pictures of other people's pretty, clean homes to my imaginary world a la Pinterest.

Sometime around the middle of February I can't take it any more.  That's when the spring and summer sports schedules start calling my name. They woo me with the ideals of picture perfect daydreams.  I can see it now! There they are, my boys, perfecting the backstroke while I lounge by the pool so proud, so chilled.  Next up, baseball. So All-American in their matching uniforms. All that testosterone being sucked out of my house and onto the ball fields. I love you, baseball. I loooove you!!!

So thankful for muscles.  So darn thankful.

So I do it, I sign three of the boys up for our town's youth baseball program.  The kids can't wait. I can't wait! We're gonna make it through winter, guys!! We've got this! The countdown to April has begun.

The spring thaw has arrived, and it's time for practices to begin.  I. am. thrilled.

So glad I washed those pants so they'd be clean for your game.

Mom, nobody cares if my pants are clean when I just hit a triple. 

My infatuation with baseball's charm begins to weaken (slightly) when son #3 comes home and announces he'll be wearing white pants this season. Wait, what? White pants? Is that legal? Please, Lord, let the others wear black, please, please, please, please, please.

Whew! Black it is. Okay, no problem.  I can handle one pair of white pants.

Andrew's team was stacked with talent and so very fun to watch!

After an enthusiastic evening of practices, the boys come running in the door, game schedules in hand.  I immediately sit down and begin penciling in every event.  Three boys, three different teams, three separate locations, three nights a week for six weeks, topped off with a tournament to really finish the season off right.

After all of the highlighting and abbreviations are carefully noted, there are exactly four squares in the month of June that remain unscathed. Oy.

Proof of life. From the wheat field to the baseball field.

What was I thinking? With farmer Steve putting in long, unpredictable hours of work, how am I going to juggle baby, toddler, baseball and a soon-to-be high schooler who has to be chauffeured to summer league basketball and football camp?

Alright, Susan.  Get your game face on.  You're no quitter.  You are going to make this relationship work. In it to win it.  In it to win it.

After three weeks of running the home team back and forth and back and forth in the snack wagon to game after game, it all started to catch up with me.  I did the thing you don't do in baseball.

I cried.

Though the boys had everything going for them, they each had amazing coaches and fantastic teammates and were all having the time of their lives, I was not having quite as much fun. In fact, I was barely keeping it together.

We were on a rotation of cereal, peanut butter and jelly, and frozen pizza for supper. Mmmm, healthy. Gotta feed those athletes right! 

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of malnourishment I have no fear, because other parents bring treats to every game. I confess that I used to cuss the whole treat thing.  

Not this year. Thank you, parents and coaches, for the Oreos and Cheetos. Bless you.

It wasn't just the evening meal and order and structure and cleanliness that was missing from our lives, there was also always a glove, a hat, one cleat, the car keys, the stroller, and water bottles that went missing, too (mysteriously of course).

At the end of every day, all I could say was Jesus, mercy and beer me (as my friend, Kathryn, puts it so honestly).

And Joseph, poor Joseph.  No matter how many Tonka Trucks, tractors or munchies I hauled to the field like a pack mule, he always found the spray of sunflower seed shells at his feet the most alluring thing around. The first time he raised his bulging fist up to his sweet little mouth I about lost my smoothie. I can handle a lot of gross, but that? No. Just no.

Mom, did you see my triple? 
Gosh son, I wish I could have, but I was too busy fishing second hand choke hazards out of your brother's mouth.  But, good job!

Strapping little Goliath in the stroller didn't work all that well either.  My baby was just learning to walk, and the ball diamond was his oyster.  Perfect timing for finding your wheels, son.  Per-fect.

One night, exhausted after the final round of games were over, I just sat in my stinky car, staring at my stinky self in the rear view, when my dearest Henry came around and opened the door for me.

Even the Pope couldn't talk him out of wearing those red socks.

I love Henry's intensity.  His enthusiasm for the game warms my heart.  He is 100% all the time.

Thank you, mom, for taking me to every single one of my games this season.  

I love baseball so much. 

I want to play it for the rest of my life.

Then, he smiled that toothless smile at me, and I scooped him and all of his joy up in my arms, the scent of Gatorade and dirt filling my lungs.

You're welcome, Henry. You're so very welcome.

And, just like that, I knew with certainty that the break-up wouldn't last.

For the love of my boys, I'll never be able to stop loving you, baseball.

Joseph William Karol Turns One! Brotherly Love and Birthday Photos Abound

"How can there be to many children? 

That's like saying there are too many flowers." 

- Blessed Mother Teresa of Calcutta

Last Friday our youngest son, Joseph, turned one.  My heart simply could not accept how quickly this year has passed.  Just yesterday I was begging my ten day overdue belly to get busy! Despite the intensity of life that comes with raising six young boys, like clockwork, when that first birthday arrives so does the crazy intense longing for another baby. (Go ahead, call me coo-coo.) It's just automatic.  I can't help it!

Steve and I have always been open to life, and the Lord knows that if it were up to us, we would have ten boys by now.  But, He is the Creator and Crafter of our family, and so six it is! (Until we adopt those twin girls I've been trying to convince my husband we have plenty of room for!)

Anyway, for days leading up to Joseph's birthday, there was a great deal of excitement in our house. Everyone wanted to know what kind of cake I was going to make, if we were going to have a party, and they all took turns exclaiming to Joey, "You're going to be one year old on Friday!"

When the big day finally arrived, the great enthusiasm and love that the boys showered over Joseph was so touching, I cannot describe it. The older boys were all awake bright and early to help Steve work to get the combine ready for wheat harvest.  While they waited for me to prepare their sack lunches, they sat quietly in the living room listening for Joey's little voice to signal that he was awake.

Goooooood Morning!! Come and get me!!!

Gosh, guys. It's just my first birthday, no biggie, really.

Everyone dashed in to hug and kiss him and to wish him happy birthday.  It was a sweet sort of chaos.  I wish I could bottle up all of their giggling and hugging and endearing words.  Those are sounds I don't ever want to forget.

Of course our boys have their fair share of fighting and selfishness, but that's all on the surface of learning and growing up in a family of boys.  Beneath it all is an beautifully intense love for one another.  I see this love expressed in so many wonderful ways between each of them every day. The love was especially visible on Joseph's birthday.

Despite the obligations of the day, when possible, all of our attention was on Joseph.  I, especially, found myself just watching him, noticing every little distinction that makes him so unique, so precious - his wispy curls, his long lashes, his big blue eyes, his many expressions, the way he says "HI!" so emphatically when I walk in the room.

The boys will never know how emotional their birthdays are for me.  Behind the smiles and celebration my heart is completely engulfed in waves of love, joy, gratitude, wonder, and admiration, and the exhaustion I feel intensifies all of those emotions immensely. 

I suppose those emotions come from a combination of wanting time to slow down and also knowing that each child we've been blessed with is such a gift, such a mercy. Children save us from ourselves.  I've written before about how babies make us better.  Because, they really do.  

They uproot us from all our selfishness and attachment to things that don't matter and reward our self-gift with an all consuming love, adoration, and cuteness that makes us forget who we used to be. They make us face our weaknesses and our faults and leave us longing to be better, to be more, to be different, and that often very uncomfortable change requires a total reliance upon God's mercy and grace.

Early that day, I had hoped to dress Joseph up in his Wranglers and boots and take him to a special spot just outside of town that I thought would be the perfect place for his one year photo session, but it was so hot outside, I knew he would be miserable. Another day, another time.

After supper, the boys offered to take care of the dishes so that Steve and I could have some one-on-one time with Joseph outside.  He is taking his first steps, so it was the perfect time to snap a few (hundred) photos!  

Are you ready dad? I'm gonna show you my slider, then my curve, then my fastball!

 Um, guys, have you seen my baseball anywhere? Anyone, anyone??

 George noticed how much Joey wanted to take a turn on the slide....

So, he happily made his birthday wish come true. 

When it came time for the cake, Joseph was not sure what to think. The boys, however, were about to burst with excitement, because they could not believe that I was going to let Joseph actually eat his very own piece. Mom! It has sugar in it! Sugar is bad for Joey! Are you sure he should eat it??

First taste....

Mmmmmm!!!

After the cake was devoured, Charlie volunteered to "bathe" Joseph in the baby pool.  Hold still, Jophis, I'm going to wash the frosting out of your hair with this ice cold bucket of water.

Really, how can there ever be too many of these precious ones???