Two months

Baby Dude! You are two months old!

You are one happy baby. You eat like a champ, sleep like a champ, and you are the most flexible and adaptable baby!

You look just like your brother did at your age. The similarity is uncanny, and when your dad flashed a photo across our computer screen, I had to stop and study it to determine which of my boys I was looking at. I think your eyes are a little brighter shade of blue than your brother's, and your temperament is already different. I'm eager to see how your personalities compare!

You are loving the seahorse musical nightlight and the sleep sheep, just like your brother did. We bought you your own seahorse so now you both have one!

You are strong, like an oak tree. You began standing on our knees at just a few weeks old, and with our support to steady you, you can support your own weight on your legs. You've been holding your neck up for many weeks now, and every move you make just has such strength behind it. Tummy time doesn't bother you in the least, and you can move your head from side to side. You are getting so long that you've about outgrown your three-month sleepers.

I think God knew you'd need to be strong to hold your own with your older brother. He's still learning what "sweet" touch feels like, and you are his learning tool. He hasn't been too sure what to think about you during the first few weeks of life, but in the past few days, one of the first things he wants to do each day is "hold Nate." He loves holding his little brother and just studying you.

You love to look around, coo and talk, and you are a smiler. That smile is so, so sweet no matter if it's a purposeful reaction to one of us, or done while sleeping. You still aren't quite sure what to make of batht ime, but you sure are cute as you wiggle around.

This past weekend when your dad was changing your diaper, I heard a yell and then, "it's on my lip!" Sure enough, you'd nailed him with baby poop. We laughed and laughed, and even though you didn't mean to do it, I'm secretly proud of your ability to do such a thing!

We love you so much, Nathanael Oak! Happy two months, sweet baby!

Love,
Mama

So good

"Mama, Dada, so good."

What parent wouldn't want to hear that phrase come out of their toddler's mouth? It sounds like two-year-old-speak for, "Mother, Father, what wonderful parents you are! The way you love me and train me up are things for which I will always be eternally grateful!"

Buuuuuuut. While he may in fact feel such sentinment, the term "so good" is actually a request to sing a particular song. It's THE song around the Park household these days: "So Good" by Cory Asbury.

"Dada, whoa oh oh oh." Cue dad to transition: I've got love, joy, peace…

"Mama, clap."

We are a regular traveling musical act as we drive from place to place! And I love it. I love every clap from the backseat, every occasional "c'mon" sung along with dad, every request for either mama or dada to take over singing at a particular place in the song.

This boy has a heart for worship. We've started taking him into the church service for worship, and words really can't describe how my heart just soars watching him. He jumps, he sways, he lifts his hands sometimes - he really experiences the music he's hearing. He loves the drums, the guitars, Jesus and "sing sing sing"-ing. Here's a pic my friend Michelle captured a few Sundays ago:

I love that our little Blazer loves his dad and loves to imitate what he sees his dad doing. I'm thankful that the two of them love to sing worship music together, and I'm so thankful our little dude sees it as perfectly normal to take it beyond the church walls.

Grumbling State University

Anyone else *sometimes* have a case of the grumbles? And by sometimes, I mean more times than you'd like to admit? Or is it just me?

I awaken to either extreme heat or extreme cold because the 1970s heating/cooling is just.that.efficient. And I grumble.

I walk back to get a toddler who is awake earlier than usual again, usually the result of a neighbor slamming a cabinet or the fire engine off to the races just outside. Do neighbors not realize the thin walls? Do fire trucks really need to blare their sirens at 6 a.m.? Is there that much traffic in their way? I grumble.

As I walk back to the bedroom, I realize that the $20 pizza we splurged on the night before is still sitting in its pretty red box, the leftovers now ruined. In the bedtime-bathtime-late night laundromat logistics, I simply forgot to put it up. And as a bonus, it's sitting right next to the macaroni and cheese remnants from the night before. And I grumble.

The morning unfolds, and though it may be a weekend, with the schedule of things, I realize that for the  third day in a row, that the 10-minute hot shower I've been dreaming of just isn't going to happen. It's going to have to be a fast one again. And I'll have to leave the house with wet hair, looking a hot mess again. And I grumble.

Hooo boy, someone needs an attitude adjustment. Or rather, someone needs Jesus. Isn't that the truth? I'm living proof that the fruit of the Spirit doesn't originate within my own flesh, that's for sure.

But then I look at the face of my two-year-old, a quiet morning smile on his face with those adorable dimples. I see my newborn, lying on my bed with his arms stretched wide, a peaceful smile on his face as he sleeps. I think of my main man, already out the door to go be an encourager of others, while it's still dark outside. And I'm thankful.

I read posts like this one and this one, written by friends. I laugh and I nod my head. And I'm thankful.

I turn on worship music and listen to voices of praise soar. I see my sweet boy begin to sway with the music, and I start to think about his heart for worship even at this age. And I'm thankful.

The truth is that there are two dueling realities: the one in front of me, filled with distractions and weakness and a bad case of the grumbles, and the one Who is. His mercies really are new every morning and He is a giver of so many good things. After all, He's the giver of life.

As the song plays, "God I look to You, I won't be overwhelmed," I am filled yet again with the awe that He is my strength and my shield, and that life is goooooood. And the grumbles melt away, replaced with joy and gratitude.

Our God reigns, y'all. Amen.

House hunt

In the past three weeks, we've almost bought a house. Twice.

Hindsight already sums up both of these situations as ridiculous but I'm writing this blog confession because years from now, when I go back and read about our lives in this season, I want to remember this. I want to remember how silly we were and how kind God is. And I want to laugh really hard at our foolishness. Even more than we are laughing now.

The first house was… expensive. I won't say how expensive because that's completely subjective, but for us, it was stupid expensive. We made the mistake of going to look at it in the first place, and of course we loved it. Why wouldn't we? It was light years nicer than the ones we had been looking at. And it was for-sale-by-owner. So we decided to make an offer.

Fortunately, God had the good sense to put a particular friend in our lives who came to look at the house with us on our second go-'round and then who proceeded to ask us some pointed questions. And we quickly realized that oops, making an offer was not a wise decision. So we called the sellers back and told them we'd changed our minds.

The next morning we woke up, looked at each other, and just shook our heads. What were we thinking?

Fast-forward to this week. We stumbled upon a great house that felt so homey. It was much less expensive than our previous find, located in a fabulous neighborhood, near great schools, and it had been completely redone. Our realtor was amazed that it was still on the market. This had to be a gift from God! But it was by no means cheap. And once again, we got caught up in the moment, in the thought of our family there, cooking in the kitchen, hosting friends in the living room full of natural light. It was just so homey.

Nevermind that it was in a part of town that we'd previously had zero desire to live in or that it was at the very top of our price range. Nevermind that I didn't particularly care for the backyard, an aspect I'd ranked as particularly important in our search. How could we pass up this opportunity? So we stayed up until 10 p.m. crafting an offer with our realtor.

When we got their counter-offer the next day, we were initially indignant. We were expecting this to be a negotiation process, and they had budged maybe a millimeter in our direction. We wisely decided to sleep on it before making any decisions, and hallelujah for that decision. When we awakened the next morning, we both had the distinct feeling that our uneasiness was actually the Lord putting on some brakes. "Less expensive" does not equal "affordable," as it turns out. At least, not affordable in the way we want to live our lives with the financial priorities that we have.

At church this morning, during worship, we both spent considerable time praying and then just being quiet before God, waiting to see what He was speaking to our hearts. And what He spoke to my heart was something deep and true and I immediately knew that it was His voice. I told Gib, and he agreed that he felt the same thing. And then our pastor opened his mouth to preach, and the message was identical to what we both felt we'd heard God saying directly to us just a few minutes earlier. We just looked at each other and laughed. I think He wanted to make sure that we got the message loud and clear.

Suffice it to say that we've taken our house hunting in a different direction. Our realtor probably thinks we are nuts. Our parents might think we are a little nuts, too. But we have a new clarity and peace that we didn't have before.

Thank you, God, that not only do you open doors in life but you also close them abruptly and wisely. Thank you, God, that you control the brake pedal of our lives. And thank you, most of all, that despite our foolish and rash decision-making, you love us enough to pursue our hearts and our attention and turn it back to Yourself.

Brothers!

I'm on a posting kick, aren't I! And yes, that time stamp is correct. Gib chides me for not sleeping at this hour, but when you only have a few hours of the day to yourself, the quiet found in the middle of the night can be irresistible. 

My friend Michelle has always had an eye for, and passion for, photography. Recently, she has started apprenticing under another photographer friend of ours, which didn't surprise anyone, given her creative track record. This lady envisions and creates incredible artistic projects, somehow finding the time to do so addition to raising two kids under two. She sews, she paints, she designs, she sings, she cooks… and the list goes on.

Last weekend, the Park boys and I headed to her casa for a photo shoot of the brothers. She was ready with kid-friendly props, and I'm pretty sure Levi had such a great time that he didn't even realize it was a photo shoot. That, my friends, is impressive. Here are just a few of the images from our shoot. Thanks so much, Michelle!

Birthday pajama breakfast

I'm falling way behind here on chronicling all of Levi's birthday fun! Two of my dearest and most wonderful friends decided to throw Levi a birthday breakfast playdate. No wonder Levi loves his Tay Tay and Ashley - he knows how well they love him. (And his mom.) So one Friday morning, a crowd of pajama-clad kiddos, stay-at-home/work-from-home moms, and even a few dads partied hard, enjoying hash brown "cupcakes," pancakes and even a birthday muffin complete with a candle. Our favorite nurses, Laura and Kayla, came to celebrate, even though I can only imagine their initial thoughts when hearing this would be an 8:30 a.m. party! It was a madhouse with kids everywhere, and it was so much fun! 

Thanks, Michelle, for capturing some great shots:

He liked his birthday muffin so much that he didn't put it down.

Even Nathanael is accounted for under that brown blanket!

Parade

"Mimi, play tam-brine."

"Didi, play cymbals."

"Yiyi, play clap-pers."

"Mama, play ma-ra-cas."

"Dada, play triangle."

Who ever would have guessed that my parents taking Levi to a parade back in September would lead to one of his all-time favorite activities, parading around the couch at Mimi's and Didi's house.

We all accept our assignments, and off the parade begins, with Levi bringing up the rear so he can watch everyone and offer motivation if someone isn't playing their instrument correctly. After a few times around the couch, he halts us. He takes a moment to decide which instrument he'd like to move to next, reassigns the rest of the gang, and off we go.

It's one of those moments I want to freeze in time forever: the adults' laughter as we march around a piece of furniture, each playing a musical instrument, and the smile that lights up the face of a little boy. It's just so sweet.