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.'