*I am really loving this whole "boys getting older" thing. Case in point--last night as we were putting Max and Gus to bed, I commented that their room was getting a bit too messy. Max offered to clean it right then and there which I took to simply be a bedtime stall-tactic. I told him he could deal with it in the morning, which he assured me he would do first thing. I was fairly certain this declaration would be forgotten after a night's sleep, but at 6am this morning I awoke to the sound of quiet footsteps interspersed amongst the clangs and crashes of toys. I realized that Max was up at the crack of dawn, making good on his word and cleaning his room. I rolled back over and went back to sleep, figuring it was just a matter of minutes before the boys came into our room. When Jack started crying nearly an hour later, Mark got up and found Max and Gus in the living room, quietly watching a program on Netflix, eating breakfast which they had gotten for themselves. I could definitely get used to this! Well, maybe not completely. After all, a couple months ago Max announced he was officially too old to give his mom a kiss. A small piece of my heart died upon hearing those words. I have just a sliver of understanding now what it must feel like to let your child go out into the world and become something separate from yourself.
*In art class Max is working on a Day of the Dead project. Apparently they had a discussion about ancestors, because yesterday when he got off the school bus, he wanted to know if he had any. I named a few of his ancestors for him and we talked about how people came from many different places to the United States looking for a better life which is how we ended up living here so many years later. That evening, out of the blue Max said to Mark and I that Ms. Mackin, his art teacher, doesn't know who her ancestors are because she was adopted. I asked Max if he knew what that meant and he shook his head. I (rather clumsily) started to explain the concept, but let Mark take over when I saw the puzzled look on Max's face at my overly wordy answer. After Mark finished up his much-clearer explanation, I asked Max very seriously, "Did you know you're adopted?" You should have seen the look on his face! I then explained that while he was born from my body, he was adopted in a different way...into God's family. We explained how even though he isn't God's son the same way Jesus is, that because he loves God with all his heart, he is one of God's children and God cares for him like a father. "What do you think about that?" I asked. "Cooooool!" he responded.
*This is what I found inside my boot this morning when I tried to put it on:
