Celebrating James

James is the refreshing, cool, smooth center of a crunchy-cookie ice cream sandwich.

For the full metaphor, picture his placement in our family! He's mellow and not easily riled, yet he likes to do things at his own pace. I think he was born sooner than he wanted -- he was breach, so I was scheduled for a version (external turning, ouch!). An ultrasound the day of the procedure, 10 days before my due date, showed James had turned during the night. Not wanting to give him a chance to turn around again, the doctor opted to induce my labor that morning. We met James, all 8 lbs. 2 oz. of him, by the end of the work day. He was my biggest baby. He was so sleepy and chill we hardly saw him open his eyes those first few days. Maybe in protest.

James is confident. Last night we did a family home evening activity of writing something nice about each family member. We rotated papers around the table. When you got your own paper you could take a breather, but instead James wrote, "I love myself!" I cherish that about him. I never want it to leave.

James is a problem solver. Our ward does a trunk-or-treat the Saturday before Halloween. Invariably someone's costume gets lost between the ward party and Halloween itself -- what can I say, our home is the Bermuda triangle of all things clothing. A few years back this happened to both James and Elise. It brought their contrasting personalities into sharp focus. Whereas Elise was tearfully upset and casting blame for her missing costume, James simply came up with another option. He paired an oversize T-shirt with a knit cap -- voila, skateboarder.

He is all boy, with a rough-and-tumble athletic zeal and habitually dirty nails, grass-stained jeans and messy room. This makes his parting hugs and "I love you, Mom" as he goes to school all the more endearing. He tells me every night he loves me. Then he'll come into my room again, "Good night, Mom, I love you." And again. I love this boy! Now, get to bed!

Jeff and I took James to lunch, and then to a rock-climbing gym to celebrate his birthday. It was a great day. I need to do this more often, not to just celebrate certain occasions, but to celebrate the child.

I could wax poetic about the symbolism of rock-climbing, of being harnessed to a helper on the ground but having to do all the upward reach by yourself;  of constantly looking forward and not obsessing about past steps; of the need to speak, but more the need to listen to your helper. A woman was there guiding her two-year-old daughter in what I guessed was a first climb. "No, no," she kept saying. "Don't grab the rope, grab the rock. The rope is holding you, but you won't go anywhere if you don't touch the rock."

My hope for James is that he will grow in his confidence and his abilities and never be afraid to push himself to great things. Happy 10th, big guy! We are so glad you're in our family.




P.S.

I found a document from when he was 4 that I labeled James' random sayings:

September

• I came up the stairs and turned the light off behind me, not realizing James was in the room.  “Mom!  Turn on the light!  I don’t glow in the dark!”

• At a birthday party I cautioned James that if he didn’t slow down on all the candy he was eating, he’d get sick. He looked up at me with disbelief that his mother still just does not get it.  “Mom,” he said with some exasperation, “I’m not allergic to sugar.”

10/06/08

 “Mom, I have to go to the bathroom, but I’m scared of pirates!”

 Me: (laughing) “But there aren’t any pirates in the bathroom!”

James: “There’s a pirate poster on Kyle’s door.”

Me: “But that’s not the bathroom!”

James: “Well . . .” and left the room.

10/03/08

Me:  “Come on James, let’s walk to the school and walk home with Elise and Emma.”

James: “I want to drive.”

Me:  “No, James, it’s such a beautiful day.  Let’s walk.”

James, in his know-it-all fashion: “Mom, we can still see the beautiful day from the van windows!”

The last two weeks

Phew! I'm really behind on this. This batch of photos includes a glimpse at the truly mundane. I guess there's nothing keeping me from substituting one day's lame photo for another day's interesting one, except that's not really the point. So to be true to my daily photo project, here goes:

 Jan. 28: Samuel reading on my bed.

 Jan. 29: Books on my dresser representing the stories Samuel and I read from Monday to Wednesday morning. There are lots about shadows because that was the topic of my latest storytime.

Jan. 30. Morning walk after new snow.

Jan. 31. James reads a comics collection.

Feb. 1. Nouveau neveu (new nephew).

Feb. 2. Broncos fan Samuel, pre-creaming.

Feb. 3. I went for a walk while my car was getting an emissions test (yep, for our January registration).

Feb. 3. Self-portrait on barber pole. I know. two from one day. To make up for Feb. 5, I guess.

Feb. 4. James works on a poster for scouts.

Feb. 5. I guess I need to update my linen closet labels to say "dirty dishes." See? Lame. Seriously the only picture I took that day.

Feb. 6. Screenager Kyle.

Feb. 7. James catches snowflakes, Spidey-style.

Feb. 8. James rock climbs. 

Feb. 9. Happy 10th birthday, James!

More shots

 Jan. 20. Kyle, James, Samuel at Crystal Hot Springs. The setting sun and steam rising from pools created magical silhouettes.

Jan. 21. Emma waits in the driver license division. Yee-haw!

 Jan. 22. James salutes at Pack Meeting.

Jan. 23. Samuel.

Jan. 24. NO PARKING. Unless you're a space shuttle. Carry on.

Jan. 25. James' shot.

 Jan. 26. Jeff greets me with dinner ready to serve. Sundays are NOT a day of rest for me, but Jeff does so much to help them go more smoothly. By the time I had made it home from church dinner was on!

 Jan. 27. Plant along sidewalk.

Astro Camp

Elise at Astro Camp. Friday, Jan. 24.

Elise's 6th grade class got to launch the space shuttle! As commander of the mission, Elise's pink flight suit came out of the laundry basket and her only head protection was a green scrunchie. She never left the cockpit and the cockpit never left Earth. The launch was imaginary of course, but the nerves, concentration and ultimate triumph were the real deal.

Odyssey Elementary, with that cool shuttle sticking out the front, is the setting for Astro Camp. Armed with headsets, monitors and control consoles, the students take on specific roles to get the shuttle ready to launch. (Think of the movie "Apollo 13.") They voice commands, analyze data, press buttons. Students follow page after page of procedure code, with unscripted Houston-sized problems thrown in to test their mettle. 

I like how director Ed Douglas emphasized the teamwork aspect of the exercise. All roles on Friday were different. Some had more speaking parts, others more buttons to navigate. One student had to pick the best landing site based on real-time weather data from Cape Canaveral, Edwards Air Force Base and White Sands, New Mexico. Other students, while they may have not had a defined duty on Friday, helped run classroom rehearsals. Individuals contribute, but success is measured as a group.

I loved this field trip! It was so fun to see Elise shine. She had been nervous, but the entire class did fabulous. Best of all, they felt good about themselves. That is always a joy to see.

The class was so well-behaved that I don't really think they needed me or the other parents to be there. I even felt a bit guilty. You see, I was jettisoned from the school that morning after an aide saw me struggling to get Samuel down the sidewalk. The last few days, his resistance to school has been painfully, NOISILY, VISIBLY intense. The aide was outside at the front crosswalk. She radioed the counselor to come out and help me. Together the counselor and I dragged Samuel into the building. "I'll take it from here, Mom," the counselor said, urging me outside. I was supposed to meet in Elise's room for field trip instruction, with the bus set to leave right after first bell. I dared not even go down the hall, should Samuel see me, but I also didn't want to leave him in crisis mode. I was in a tough spot -- if I went on the school bus and Samuel's difficulties escalated, I couldn't come back for him. So I had to have faith the school staff would handle it. (They did.) I must say, once I made my decision to go, that boisterous bus ride was unexpectedly soothing. Besides, I had been asked to attend a PTA meeting that morning. Volunteering on a field trip instead was about the best airtight alibi excuse I'd ever conjured! :)

The back of the shuttle

The commander console. Elise is actually in the nose of the shuttle replica.

Elise looks at countdown clock on opposite wall after launch sequence is complete. (Monitor shows boosters lighting up.) The group had 45 minutes to run procedure. They finished with 12:21 left.

A newspaper photographer captures the scene.

Director Ed Douglas points to the Apollo 13 crew.

Another week

Samuel appears in many shots this week, which is appropriate because he consumes most of my energy (that, and he's more willing to be photographed than Kyle, the other energy zapper.)

 Jan. 12. New snow.

Jan. 13. I was invited to a baby shower that began early Monday evening. So of course I didn't start this crochet project until Monday afternoon. I held the yarn on my lap and crocheted between songs at the school program rehearsal. Why do I do this to myself? But I finished!

Jan. 14. Full-body glissando. It sometimes seems like I'm on a downward slide with this boy, not knowing how to best help him. It was a rough week getting Samuel to go to school. On this day it took the entire morning of coaxing; he made it after lunch.

Jan. 15. Ah, but look how cute he is at school the next morning (a better one!), taking his chair into the gym for the fifth grade program. I played the piano for it.

Jan. 16. May the force be with your homework. 

Jan. 17. Moon at dawn.

Jan. 18. Elise leaps onto boulders. The four youngest and I enjoyed a glorious sunny, warm day at the park. It was rejuvenating.

Jan. 19. James gets into new game of Headbandz. ("I am a bathtub.") After the first round, the kids learned the futility of playing the game in a room with a mirror.