Boy Crazy

So the Masters Rives...it seems as though I should mention them. They are quickly growing and barely giving me time to catch my breath at one phase before we enter another. As at least one person feels compelled to tell me each time we go out, I have my hands full. It is usually said with a smirk or a chuckle or a tone of pity. But I assure you, even on my worst day, the idea of life in the alternative looms heavy over me and I give thanks. "Oh, you should see my heart," I tell them. "You don't even know full."




The youngest manchild I am currently rearing is Simeon James. He will be 7 months in 4 days. Does this completely blow anyone else's mind? Did I not just post about his birth. Granted that was only about 4 posts back, but it still seems unbelievable that he should be so old.



At this writing, he is in the middle of an unfortunate combination of a cold and teething. This means from about midnight to 5 in the morning, he sleeps a total of about an hour. The past two nights have been like this. He sucks his thumb, you see, so a stopped-up nose makes his normal nighttime guilty pleasure impossible. Which makes him MAD. Which makes him even more tired. We're all exhausted over here. But thanks be to God, this is the saddest news I have to report.

He sits up on his own fairly well but is still a little wobbly at times so I put the boppy around him. He loves the Johnny Jump Up and exersaucer. He adores his big brothers and finds them endlessly entertaining. I can eek out a few extra minutes of whatever I am doing by asking the boys to go talk to Simmy or make him laugh. He will do a little inchworm scoot to try to reach a toy but he scoots backwards so he's got a little work to do there. He loves to eat and so far has only turned his nose up at avocados. I cannot blame him because if my avocados aren't salted, cilantroed, and served on a tortilla chip, I don't care for them either.

I have no idea how long he is or how much he weighs. He is bigger than a breadbox. His thigh rolls give him away if his eyes don't--he is definitely a Rives boy!

The past two days not withstanding, he is a happy, smiley little(ish) thing. He babbles on and on. We call him "Simmy" or "Simmy J" or "Simmy Shake"(long story.)



The middle, misunderstood, sweet-as-pie, force-to-be-reckoned-with child is my Judah Kristopher (or Jude as he is called.) He is still inextricably connected to his "lovey" and resists all suggestions that perhaps he should reserve his thumb-sucking for bedtime. He loves trains and drums.

He is two and one half as of this month but has his sights set on three already. He is the most interesting, frustrating, baffling combination of tender and tough. Baby and Big Boy. Meaner than a snake yet first to share what he has or help a brother out. He keeps us on our toes suffice it to say.

His favorite things to say right now are "You pay wif me, Mama?" and "Here, I show you" and "I do it my own self." He still has a sweet "babyness" to his voice and I love to hear it. His favorite song is of course "Hey Jude" and he sings it quite well.



The eldest is Asher Owen. He will be 4 in just two weeks! He is a lot like his daddy--very intentional and sweet and prone to go get his guitar whenever he has a free moment. He is very sensitive I am learning how to best direct this (a challenge indeed.)He loves music (as does Jude) and is always staging concerts for anyone that will listen. He and Jude have constant disputes over the creative direction of their band.

He is typical first born--loves order and routine. Gets very agitated when those can't be found. He can write his name and loves to type notes on the iPod touch. He would prefer to eat every meal out and for friends to join us at these meals. Very social, that one.

Ok, I feel better now. The mom-guilt has been assuaged (as far as blogging goes.)