Merry Christmas!

Family outing to see the windows at Marshall Fields, oops, I mean Macy's :)

Taking the metra - or ding ding - train downtown

Having fun while celebrating momma's birthday; nothing like noise makers and unicorn heads

"Jo Jo" by Christian

Once upon a time there was a little boy named Jo Jo.  He was riding on a Jo Jo Hammer.  And he had
500 chips that need to be eaten;
500 toys;
500 tables that people come to visit;
500 blobs of playdoh;
500 TVs that need to be fixed;
500 Jo Jo Hammers.

Raising the Goblet of Rock

School of Rock touched us all. And now the next generation can learn from it. Dan was certain that the boys would be into the film already, at ages 2 and 4. They feigned interest for awhile. The crowd surfing belly flop in the opening scene garnered a chuckle. But it wasn't until nigh-nigh time and our Koehler boys jam session that it clicked a little with Christian. Dan began playing his guitar, various songs and rifs. Christian got his little one ready on his lap and started singing and playing along. His lyrics were enthusiastically sung with furrowed brows and closed eyes.  Mostly though he lifted his chin and looked up to the ceiling and belted out his song. Here's a little taste of it:

I love Jesus

He's my best friend

Rock and roll

I love Julian

Goblet of Rock

Jesus loves me

You're my best friend

It went on, but I think you get the idea :)

Next time I'll try to post his first dictated story that involves the hero Jo Jo and his 500s.

BTW Julian was into it too. He was bouncing his knees and shaking his head a la head bangers ball but sideways.

Da Boys

Here are some shots of the boys. The beach photos were taken on my dad's (goonda) cell phone at the 57th St beach in Hyde Park. The hair cut photo was taken at the kid's barber shop.

Julian turns 2

Julian turned 2 this morning at 8:02am. Two years ago I saw him for the first time. His lower lip quivered, he cried - one cry - and pee'd (all systems go!) and then I got to hold him. And it's been thousands of cuddles since (even though now he sometimes says, "No cuddoles").

Tonight we'll celebrate as a fam with pizza (pezzA!) and cupcakes (and some presents). He doesn't really understand what the occasion is, but he likes opening up the mail these days (gifts from family members inside). And he likes to say, "Jooian two!"

We can't imagine life without him. His little toddler run down the hallway, his cheesy smile full of sharp teeth, his dramatics, especially the pouting lower lip, and his love of the song "Deep and Wide."

Happy Birthday Julian! We love you!!

Croup and Mischievous Joy

When Koehler kids get sick, they don't sleep; when Koehler dad's - being one - get stressed, they don't sleep. Where does Koehler momma fit into this? Cranky-land that's where!

This week Julian developed a cough that sounded like a barking seal. For parents out there you probably already guessed Croup. Yes, croup - that antiquated illness that isn't supposed to be hanging around society anymore. The illness that swells up your neck area - under your chin but above your chest. When you breathe in, you rasp; when you cough, you bark; and you struggle to go about the day normally. Well, this was treated with steam from the shower, cold air from the freezer, and a steroid from the doctor.

The not-sleeping really happens in the early morning hours. 4ish/5ish. Julian is uncomfortable and starts to cry and cough. Since he shares a room, Christian wakes up. And Dan is already up working on his next lecture. So I lay there in denial saying it's all just a bad dream.

But today I got them up and went back to 'snooze.' Dan remained in the back and I parented by listening. Christian and Julian began to push cars up and down the hallway. At one point, I looked up from my pillow and saw Christian pushing Julian, who was standing in his red wagon both smiling. I immediately got up to prevent disaster, but also started laughing hysterically on the inside. It was such an endearing picture of childhood sibling relationships as well as imagination ordering the day.

My thoughts were swept back to my grade school days when my brother Peter and I would get into similar shenanigans after school or on the weekends. One particular incident involved him riding a bicycle with me holding onto a rope tethered to the bike while standing on a skateboard. Now I say standing not riding because I never developed sound skateboarding skills. And actually this time the skateboard began to wobble back and forth with the speed of the bike pulling it. I freaked out and did the first thing I could think of - jump off the wobbly object. If I would have thought more rationally about it, I probably would have chosen to let go of the rope first. But that wasn't the immediate crisis to my brain. Because of this rash decision or impulse, I was dragged down our street - no rather I was bounced down our street unable to yell or cry because the air had been knocked out of me.

Anyway, the picture of my boys this morning brought this to mind. Ironically it wasn't a painful memory but one of mischievous joy.

Family

At some point in time we became a family. It wasn't upon bringing home little CP in March of 08. It happened later, when we emerged as a unit, a brand, a team. We have a routine. We have a value system. We have things that Koehlers do and things that Koehlers don't do.

Every morning Dan makes us breakfast. Every morning is different in terms of what the rest of us are doing while breakfast is being made. But sometimes when Dan starts beating egg yolks and whites in a metal bowl the boys stop what they are doing and do - THE EGG DANCE! A frantic stomping dance with smiles and tongues wagging and arms flapping and sometimes even booties shaking.

When the breakfast is ready and being brought to the table, we yell, "Breakfast time" in the vein of Sid the Science Kid. We all dart to the table, sometimes fast sometimes with more coaxing. Julian joins the fray but toddling down the hallway - almost running but almost tipping over. He can't quite pronounce breakfast and so it sounds more like, "Rocky time!"

We pray, we spill, we yell, we sing, we shout, we spill, we spit, we burp, we almost say excuse me, we spill, we clean up and that's the Koehler meal to start the day.

Do you have a dreamer?

 

Do you have a dreamer? Are you a dreamer? Ours is above. Christian Peter. 

What is a dreamer? Let me describe him to you:

The play is the thing. The imagined world is the reality. Or at least it intersects with reality as non-dreamers know it to be. Logic exists but in a third dimension. Something Wittgenstein might know about. 

Dreamers want to be understood. They may appear like they want to control the situation, but instead they really desire that their world is validated and appreciated, even if it can't be published or realized. 

Christian reacts to circumstances in life with intense emotions. He's 100% mad or ecstatic or sad. And it hinges on whether or not his dream is ignored or if it actually came true. 

The funniest example is a story that involves excrement - so be forewarned. 

Christian came into the room one day and said to Dan, "I may have a little accident in my pants..."

and here is where the evidence of dreaming is revealed:

"or it might be a dried cranberry."

Christian and the 'Ding Ding' Train

This weekend my in-laws came into town for a visit. So far the boys have welcomed them into their environment with much storytelling and show and tell. Christian HAD to show them his running shoes that have SpiderMan on them and HAD to show them the Scout train made by Lionel that the other grandpa gave him for this 4th birthday. They rightfully took great interest in these things and sat down on his bed to stare at the electric train make it's same rounds over and over again - to everyone's delight!

Yesterday after Julian awoke from his afternoon nap, we mobilized everyone - which is an event in itself - and walked out of our air conditioned apartment into the hot and humid streets of Chicago, our destination being Evanston, a suburb situated to the north of our Ravenswood residence. We made our way to the Red Line Wilson stop. This stop is not handicap accessible and so we had to schlep the kids and the bags and stroller up to the platform. We then caught a train right away and started chugging through the north side neighborhoods until the city limits. During this trip the boys were very excited to look out the window at the buildings and trees zooming by. Christian seemed enchanted by it; Julian was wanting a little more liberty than his little body could handle (not yet good at balancing even when walking).

When we reached Howard, we got off and had to find the Purple Line shuttle bus, since the train line was under repair. The bus wasn't as cool as the train, of course. But we got to sit directly behind the bus driver and Christian thought this was a pretty big deal. All of humanity got on the bus with its smells, colors, languages, and dress. But the boys weren't into anthropology - just city scaping and shoving each other!

We jumped off the bus in downtown Evanston and walked a few blocks to the book store where we visited the juvenile book section, not for the literature but for the train table. Yes, this is an excursion we often make. Sometimes we read and buy books too:) But this was to be a short visit - we had a movie showing to make! Yes, we all went to see Madagascar 3 (not 3D)! The boys were so excited to go, but more so because they were going to have candy and popcorn! What a treat to have a whole bag of goodness to mindlessly (or mindfully) enjoy in the fistfuls.

Following the craziness of the movie, which not only involved the crazy storyline and characters but also the Koehler family craziness of climbing, spilling food and beverages, and going potty, etc., we left relatively the same as when we came. Julian alone had soaked himself with water. But a visit to the facilities refreshed that and everyone else.

We made our way to not the EL this time but the Metra. The Metra is a commuter train that unlike the EL has its own engine and has 4-5 double-decked coaches. Now, we walk to see these trains almost on a daily basis. Our boys call them the 'Ding Ding' trains due to the bell that dings when it arrives and leaves each station. Moreover, when Christian was a baby Dan and he would often take the Metra Electric District line. But doesn't remember these jaunts. So the Ding Ding train has become this unknown wonderful phenomenon that is only seen and heard at somewhat of a distance. Well this became realized yesterday when we took the Union Pacific North home from Evanston. Christian and I minded the gap and then climbed onto the train. He noticed immediately that there were two levels and he was insistent that we go upstairs to sit. So we did and boy did his face glow for the 15 minutes or so that we swayed, and chugged, and ding-dinged through the neighborhoods and tree tops as if flying.

Flash forward to bed time: we were praying and I asked him what he liked most about the day, listing the movie and popcorn. He said with a face glowing with joy, "The Ding Ding train where we rode on top and could see everything."

Boys Are Wild Things Indeed

Authors Stephen James and David Thomas begin their book Wild Things: the Art of Nurturing Boys by describing the wildness and imagination of boys, specifically how Stephen's twin 3 year old boys in seconds, upon him leaving the bathroom where they were bathing, engaged in a "no-holds-barred wrestling match. Water and bubbles were everywhere" (3). This is the reality that Dan and I now live with. The 'in an instant' crisis and/or threat of physical harm to, or more appropriately, by our sons.

For example, this past Sunday I was volunteering in the church nursery - toddlers' side. There were maybe 25 children, all walkers. Some toddling more than others. To match, there were maybe 7 volunteers. Julian was clingy at first, but eventually moved from me to the toys, mats, and play house areas. Halfway through the service, I left his side to change a little girl's diaper. The nano-second I do, I hear his scream. I turn and see that he is no longer in the little play house, but now rather lying outside of it under it's window. I reason that the only thing that could have placed him there so quickly would have been a face dive out of the window onto the floor.

The team leader was closest to him, picked him up and brought him to me. I tried to look at his face and upper body to see if there were any cuts or obvious injuries. He didn't seem to be bleeding - yet. But with each cry that came in between his panics and breaths blood started to spurt out - right onto my face. Splattered. It was now a war zone and I was the medic. People brought me towels - wet and dry. They brought ice. I think at some point I must have put the little girl down. For the next half hour it was all about comforting, cleaning up, and trying to get the ice pack close to his nose and forehead area.

He eventually calmed down and even tried to ice his hair and head by himself. I asked him to ice his eyes where the swelling by the nose was, but he didn't like that as much as his hair. But he was fine - he even went back into the play house and moved toward the windows with the intent of jumping out again. Needless to say, I didn't allow him too. The rest of the day my blood pressure, was in recovery mode; the rest of the day felt like I was recovering from running a race.

Praying for God's mercy in bringing up these boys!

Julian's growing pains

Most days Dan and the kids pick me up from work. That way he gets out and about and I get more time with them (though the quality of the time is questionable - mostly yelling and screaming and hitting and asking for snacks). Some days it's just Dan who picks me up. We actually get to talk or just sit in silence (with the radio on). I usually text or call our sitter that we are on the way home. Last week, I called her up explaining our tardiness, mostly our fault but also Cubs traffic and construction. I wasn't anticipating any real information sharing or problems, but she begin to explain something about someone's finger getting slammed in the bathroom door. The two boys obviously playing with the door or chasing one another...From the phone call I thought it was Christian who got hurt, and as there was no dramatic screaming I thought it was ok. Then we got home. Dan went to pick up some Thai take out and I stepped into the fray, only it wasn't the usual hubbub. Christian was on one couch watching a show; Julian was sitting on Abby's lap looking unhappy. Then I knew I had misunderstood. It was Julian who was hurt. Christian had slammed the bathroom door - for privacy - and Julian's pinky got caught. It had bled, but stopped. And so it had seemed ok, but now the entire nail was falling off and first was getting in and I can only imagine it was throbbing. I called Dan to pick up a first aid kit - our medicine cabinet was not sufficient - and he brought home all the supplies necessary. He did the honors of opening the nail to clean it out applying the neosporin, and then tightly wrapping the nail and finger with a bandaid. Julian has been wearing one ever since. The nail is still falling off, but there is evidence of a new one growing underneath. This was Julian's first BIG OWIE. Though he's had plenty of minors falls and spills and scraps.

But it doesn't end here! This week Julian also had a big first...his first FLU. Again, our sweet babysitter was on call. I'll expound less on this episode due to its graffic nature. Suffice it to say that there was toddler puke on the carpet and couches, and all over his clothes. How can you tell a toddler to puke in the toilet?!? And then the following day it was the other end - plenty of diaper changes for that.

Julian bears it all well. He's a bit whiny but has the ability to distract himself with play, food, etc. I could definitely learn from him more about how to handle life's roughness in a gracious way.

Picture update of CP

Julian-isms and CP's new favorite jingle

Some Julian-isms:

The alphabet song...hum hum hum hum hum hum G, hum hum hum hum hum hum hum hum P, etc.

When he is pretending to be a race car, he bends his knees, bends over, sticks his arms backwards so he looks like an Olympic swimmer about to jump into the pool, revs his engine by way of vocalizing, and then takes off down the hallway. I think he always wins the race.

Another funny arm thing he does is when we ask him 'where did it go?' instead of opening his arms up and sideways, he pushes them down and back.

Last one for the post: tonight he thought it would be good to use the empty mustard container to crush the corn kernels that had fallen off of his plate. It was quite entertaining, though we didn't get any corn meal from his efforts.

Tonight we were in the living room. Dan was playing songs on his guitar in the vein of lullabies. Christian asks him to sing the cars song. We ak him what song he means and he sings, '1 8 7 7 cars for kids, k a r s for kids, 1 8 7 7 cars for kids, donate your cars today.'

Jonah a kid's story? A Bible Study Debrief

So last night at my small group we studied Jonah. For those unfamiliar, this story follows an Old Testament Jewish prophet as he runs from God. In his disobedience, he boards a ship, which subsequently finds itself in a squall. The sailors fear his God and, obeying Jonah's directions, throw him into the raging sea. The sea calms. And then underneath the waters a fish swallows God's prophet and keeps him in his belly for 3 days. In the belly of the fish Jonah seemingly repents of his disobedience. The fish vomits him out and he makes the 3 day journey to Nineveh preaching death and destruction for those who do not repent. The Ninevites immediately repent and God stops the judgement. Instead of rejoicing in this peace and mercy, Jonah gets bent out of shape under a tree.

So today I'm thinking of this. The irony and the self-righteousness and the heaviness of this short book. One question comes to mind - why is this such a popular kids Bible story? Can they get the layers of irony and symbolism and foreshadowing? If not, is the simple narrative worthy of telling to children.

And then I think about my sons. Hearing about the big fish resonates with them right now. Later will this impression morph into the richness of the theology of the everyday? Yes, your obedience means something I tell them (more than once a day for sure); yes, your disobedience means something. Your faith is seen by the world as you make decisions.

Those sailors feared the Lord and worshiped him even as God's own prophet fell into the depths of Sheol.

Those Ninevites immediately cried out to God for mercy and believed in his salvation even as God's own prophet preached nothing more than "Yet forty days and Nineveh shall be overthrown!" and then pouted about God's compassion.

This the sign of belief and faith - definitely worth telling kids. God's faithfulness always worth telling :) And why not through the vessel of an enormous fish?

Matthew 12:38-42

Can this still be called a blog?

Perhaps not...but my account hasn't vanished yet! The biggest news since summer 2010 is the addition of Julian Paul Koehler to our family. What a joy he is.

Baby picture above and now a current shot:

Julian loves to communicate and sometimes we can understand him. He seeks meaning over the fun of using language (like his brother perferred) and even chooses to use words instead of emotional out bursts for the majority of his crises. Welcome change,that. Christian and Julian are already great play mates, though Christian still needs to learn more about personal space. The both prefer to be out and about - looking at cars, bugs, dirt, stairs and inclines, EL trains and metra engines.