Seth woke up Saturday morning with a swollen red eye.
Weekend plans…. derailed.
So we settled in for simple pleasures away from places where we’d spread infection. Sometimes Plan B is the best plan after all.
A quick Saturday morning drive around the neighborhood yields a practically new bike trailer for a steal. All three boys can ride behind David now… one on the bike seat and two in the stroller…. and Daddy has a new exercise plan. They’ve been twice already.
New wireless router bought and installed means that we can start streaming Netflix through the Wii, and I can stop standing on my neighbor’s porch to borrow their Wifi when I need to download books to my Kindle.
Quick Daddy/Seth trip to urgent care provides antibiotic eye drops and a little needed one on one time for them…
Saturday evening means a bike and stroller ride on the local greenway trail. The 3-year-old takes delight in riding his big brother’s bike much farther than we ever imagined he could…
Sunday morning finds us eating leftover homemade cinnamon rolls from my friend-down-the-street-who’s-never-allowed-to-move.
Afterward, we sit in the living room. I say “sit” loosely. The boys clamber around David’s head while he reads their current favorite Bible story- David and Goliath- from the NIV. They ask questions. “What’s a slave, Daddy?” “What does ‘struck down’ mean?”
They each get to pick a song to sing. Seth picks “I Love You, Lord,” and Evan picks, “I Cast All My Cares Upon You.” I pick “My God is So Big” for Ben. We take prayer requests. Evan wants to pray that he can destroy something. Seth wants us to pray that his eye will feel better soon.
And then its off for another walk on another favorite part of the greenway. We forget that there’s a steep hill near the beginning, and David lets Evan pedal off while he’s messing with Seth’s binoculars. A scream… and then a crash. A jogger comes running. 3-year-old down… cuts on knees and cuts on face.
Does he want to quit? No, he does not. He’s right back up on that bike. He rides and rides, not even stopping when Seth and I take a break to throw rocks in the creek.
Seth rides with Ben in the stroller, saying to many that we pass, “Do you want to see my pink eye?” We hurry on, and I explain again why they don’t want to get too close. =) Ben props his tiny feet up on the stroller bar and contentedly looks around him, gnawing and slobbering on a green maple leaf that Daddy has given him.
The sun is hot, and I’m starting to feel it, even in my favorite blue sundress that makes a nice swish around my legs and almost always feels cool enough. We make it back to the car, me pushing Evan up the hill. He won’t get off the bike until he has to.
The boys get baths after lunch (separately, to help avoid infection). They love a little solo splashing anyway. Naptime is here, and I’m making Evan a belated train birthday cake….
While I sat by the stream this morning, watching Seth throw rocks and listening to him ask me if they were the right sizes for throwing, I couldn’t help but think that there were so many days when I couldn’t imagine ever having one child. And now I have three boys. I watch them throw rocks, wipe and kiss their bloody knees when they fall down, push their thin little backs to propel them up hills on their bikes.
The pain and the waiting were all so worth it. And this joy would’ve been about the same whether they’d come from my body or whether we’d adopted. I wasn’t as sure of that once as I am now, but I see it more clearly today than I could’ve before I started this journey. It’s the daily living and growing with a child that makes you a family… not just how you all got together to start with.
There are many days when this knitting together of family is hard and wearing. But there are also many days when our family feels knit tightly, and we love effortlessly. And that brings joy unspeakable and great thanksgiving for Our Father’s gracious gift…