Nine Months Old

I keep intending on starting one of those "baby firsts" journals, but you know, those Round Tuits are hard to find. The week before Mom's birthday he cut his first tooth, and you already saw him crawling. He now pulls himself into standing postion wherever and whenever he can, and climbs up on things that are low enough. He also knows some words, such as "light", "cat", "Daddy", "Mommy", "bath", and "book". I love it when he studies my face with wide eyes and mouth agape as I am teaching him a word. Then he tries to repeat it but it always comes out as "gla" or "ada".
He insists on holding his own bottle now. At RBG with Mrs. Bob! Callum absolutely LOVES books! Sometimes he will be very fussy and nothing seems to calm him down. Sit in a chair and read him a book...instant bliss.

Playing peek-a-box with Daddy. I can almost hear him laugh when I look at the last photo.

First big-boy bath


Picture Overload

My little man
Callum and Sean sharing

Playing cards with Ernie
Who's that guy?
Making cool sounds

A winged visitor
Chillin' with Grandma
Playing with Grandpa
Enjoying spaghetti dinnerBundled up after a bath
Nadia feeding the masses at our Moms + Tots playgroup


Mike and Kat's Wedding

Two cute cousins!
Ringbearer Reuben and Flower Girl Olivia
Hey, are they related? ;)DJ Jazzy John
MC Piety-Pete The Jazz Band

Two more cute cousins
After three huge cups of juice I was wondering where he puts it all... "What is it?" said Jeremy.

The Happy Couple. Awww....


Callum Crawling

Before today, Callum would always do The Worm when he wanted to get somewhere. Suddenly everything seemed to click and all is limbs moved independently!


Happy Mother's Day!

This is for the mothers who have sat up all night with sick toddlers in their arms, wiping up puke laced with Oscar Mayer wieners and cherry Kool-Aid saying, "It's okay honey, Mommy's here."
Who have sat in rocking chairs for hours on end soothing crying babies who can't be comforted.
This is for all the mothers who show up at work with spit-up in their hair and milk stains on their blouses and diapers in their purse.
For all the mothers who run carpools and make cookies and sew Halloween costumes. And all the mothers who DON'T.
This is for the mothers who gave birth to babies they'll never see. And the mothers who took those babies and gave them homes.
This is for the mothers whose priceless art collections are hanging on their refrigerator doors. And for all the mothers who froze their buns on metal bleachers at football , hockey or soccer games instead of watching from the warmth of their cars, so that when their kids asked, "Did you see me, Mom?" they could say, "Of course, I wouldn't have missed it for the world," and mean it.
This is for all the mothers who yell at their kids in the grocery store and swat them in despair when they stomp their feet and scream for ice cream before dinner. And for all the mothers who count to ten instead, but realize how child abuse happens.
This is for all the mothers who sat down with their children and explained all about making babies. And for all the (grand) mothers who wanted to, but just couldn't find the words.
This is for all the mothers who go hungry, so their children can eat.
For all the mothers who read "Goodnight, Moon" twice a night for a year. And then read it again. "Just one more time."
This is for all the mothers who taught their children to tie their shoelaces before they started school. And for all the mothers who opted for Velcro instead.
This is for all the mothers who teach their sons to cook and their daughters to sink a jump shot.
This is for every mother whose head turns automatically when a little voice calls "Mom?" in a crowd, even though they know their own offspring are at home -- or even away at college.
This is for all the mothers who sent their kids to school with stomach aches, assuring them they'd be just FINE once they got there, only to get calls from the school nurse an hour later asking them to please pick them up. Right away.
This is for mothers whose children have gone astray, who can't find the words to reach them.
For all the mothers who bite their lips until they bleed when their 14 year olds dye their hair green.
For all the mothers of the victims of recent school shootings, and the mothers of those who did the shooting.
For the mothers of the survivors, and the mothers who sat in front of their TVs in horror, hugging their child who just came home from school, safely.
This is for all the mothers who taught their children to be peaceful, and now pray they come home safely from a war.

What makes a good Mother anyway? Is it patience? Compassion? Broad hips? The ability to nurse a baby, cook dinner, and sew a button on a shirt, all at the same time? Or is it in her heart? Is it the ache you feel when you watch your son or daughter disappear down the street, walking to school alone for the very first time? The jolt that it takes you from sleep to dread, from bed to crib at 2 A.M. to put your hand on the back of a sleeping baby? The panic, years later, that comes again at 2 A.M. when you just want to hear their key in the door and know they are safe again in your home? Or the need to flee from wherever you are and hug your child when you hear news of a fire, a car accident, a child dying? The emotions of motherhood are universal and so our thoughts are for young mothers stumbling through diaper changes and sleep deprivation...And mature mothers learning to let go. For working mothers and stay-at-home mothers. Single mothers and married mothers. Mothers with money, mothers without. This is for you all.
Wish all Moms in your life a Happy Mother's Day!.
Jesus is our sure defence.
Why should we then fear or waver?
All our hope and confidence
Rests on Him, the risen Saviour.

Even in our darkest hour
He will sheild us with his power.

We are flesh and must return
To the dust whence we were taken,
But we from the scriptures learn
That from death we shall awaken:
We like buried seed that dies
Shall unto new life arise.

What into the earth we sow,
Standing by the graveside grieving,
Is the seed that soon will grow,
Glory from our God recieving.
He to every grain here sown
Gives a body of its own.

What is weak and mortal here
Prey to illness and destruction,
Shall with glorious power appear
In the hour of resurrection.
What today is sown disgraced
In great honor shall be raised.

God His own shall glorify
In a wondrous transformation:
Though not all of us may die,
All shall gain their full salvation
In the twinkling of an eye
When the Lord comes from on high.

When we hear the trumpet sound
And the dead are raised immortal,
We will see with joy profound
How the grave must serve as portal
Leading past all woe and strife
Into everlasting life!

Then the word shall be fulfilled,
Once by ancient prophets spoken:
"See how Satan's might is quelled,
How the power of death lies broken.
Where, O death, is now your sting?"
Christ has conquered! He is King!

To our God be thanks and praise
He through Christ made us victorious.
Be then steadfast all your days;
See how death's defeat assures us
That in Him who comes again
All your toil is not in vain!


Until We Meet Again

Opoe with Callum Fall 2007

Stu's grandma passed away with her family by her side on Monday. She was 86 years old. God has taken her up into His heavenly home.