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The Future of Fatherhood
(as envisioned by Leo Carter)

A Good Night

Our going-to-bed ritual began like many often do (particularly on nights when Jeff is working): Aidan and Leo chased each other around their bedroom and into the hallway, laughing loudly, being rambunctious and mischievous and playful and happy. Although I much prefer this to the meaner, taunting chases that sometimes ensue, none of this behavior is appropriate nor respectful to the little brother who just wants to go to sleep in peace. Evenings like this can be exhausting and leave me feeling weary. I feel so... outnumbered. I just want this to be a good night, I thought to myself as I read Pax his stories...

I sighed heavily, went back outside Pax's room, and tried one more time to coax Aidan and Leo into converting their energy into something that more closely resembled "getting ready for sleep." I made my request, closed the door before a protest or argument could errupt, and retreated back into the room to nurse their tired and puny brother...

I savor the moments I spend nursing Pax. Nursing has always been one of my most favorite parts of the day. I get to put my tired feet up, rock back and forth in our comfy, well-worn glider, and watch my child be nourished by my milk and my love. I smooth his fine hair, stroke his plump cheek, and marvel at the sheer beauty of this child. Nursing my babes are among my most private and cherished times with each of them, and now, more than ever, I cling to these moments. While I don't have plans to wean him any time soon, I know that this is not forever.

Because of my attention of being "in the moment" with Pax, I was somewhat startled to realize, on my quiet exit from his room, that all was calm. At that moment, I heard Aidan's voice -

..."We need a goodnight kiss," said the little dragons. And they lifted their scaly little cheeks. "This is going too far," said the Good Knight.

But he was a good knight.

So he bent and kissed each scaly little cheek....

Quietly, ever so quietly, I opened the door to the room to discover the two of them perched side by side on Leo's bed, heads bent low over the book that Aidan was reading aloud. Aidan was reading fluently, easily, and with great prosody (prosody = fancy word for "with great expression") to his younger brother, both of them deeply engrossed in the endearing story, Good Night, Good Knight by Shelley Moore Thomas. As I remained undetected in the doorway, Aidan finished the story and they both lingered over the last picture in the book. Finally Aidan asked, "Now Leo, would you like me to read you another?"

These are the "paybacks." These are the moments I relish and savor. These are the times I collect and store and invest and commit to my long-term memory, because tonight was a Good Night. Oh how I love my Good Knights.

You're Never Fully Dressed...

Leo cannot get enough of costumes and the dress up box. His favorite from the trunk in the basement is a fierce green dinosaur head and feet, complete with a programmed "RAAAR" in the paw of the foot. (Paw? Did dinos have paws? I guess I mean in the foot of the foot... hmm.) Fittingly, his lion (his leo) costume from last year's Halloween is another favorite. Some days, he chooses to be a superhero, or a nurse, or a police officer. Other days, he mixes it all up and becomes a mythical creature - Superhero-Lion-Firefighting-Dinosaur - able to take on Minotaur, Basilisk, or Ent. The richness of imagination at age 3 1/2 is, in some ways, at its finest. He is unself-conscious and lost in the fantasies of his own mind; he has no inhibition about wearing his alternative wardrobe to the grocery store or the hardware store; he uses his imagination to boost his happy moods and sometimes, to work through his unhappiness as well. Each day, I look forward to seeing what he'll decide to be, and I love that in his mind, nothing is beyond his limits or capabilities.

However - his love of dress up poses a unique challenge for committing to ONE Halloween costume this year. So far, Leo has declared his desire to be
a ghost
a mouse
a bat
candy corn
a witch
a lion (again)
a Which-What-Who (this was Aidan's suggestion, a combination of all the things he might be, and a reference to this bedtime favorite)

...until one night at dinner, when we were trying to decide on what Pax might be for Halloween. Leo said,
"I don't want to dress up for Halloween. I just want to be Leo."
Me: "Um... I don't know if people would really understand that you were dressing up as just Leo."
Leo: "Oh. Okay. Then I want to be a walrus."
Me: "A Walrus??"
Leo: "Yes. A walrus with two legs."

...I just looked at him, not without a smile.

Who's line is it, anyway?

Endlessly entertaining. If there's one phrase I would choose to describe life with young children, it would be just that - they are endlessly entertaining. I love to hear the funny things that they say, and of course, those are easy to record and remember. But equally amusing to me, yet harder to record, are the unique ways in which they play, or how they climb the stairs, or the faces they make at themselves while brushing their teeth - when they think no one is looking...

The weather has been gorgeous these early fall days, and we've had the windows open as much as possible. After school one afternoon, the big boys were playing outside in the front yard while Pax and I put away clothes in the rooms upstairs. I was was intrigued by the game that was unfolding outside; Aidan and Leo each had their baby dolls with them, as well as the doll-sized stroller. At first, I was confused and slightly alarmed at what I saw - one of them would snatch the baby from the other's arms, shove the doll into the stroller, then race across the grass and push him straight into the bushes, a formidable tree, or the bumper of the car. What on earth? I thought. I'm always so proud of my boys for playing with dolls, but now I wasn't so sure - the game looked awfully.... violent. At least from the poor doll baby's perspective. The longer I watched, though, the more clear it became that this was a carefully orchestrated, detailed, almost scripted kind of play, with definite roles and rules. Finally, I couldn't resist not knowing. I went outside and asked them about their game. "It's called Kidnappers!" Aidan exclaimed. "We are taking turns protecting our babies from the Bad Men who have tried to kidnap them!" "Yeah!" piped up Leo. "We are saving them!" he explained, dangling his beloved doll baby from one foot before dropping him on his head. "Oops."

Happy Birthday to you

Pax Augustus turned O-N-E on September 24! We celebrated with a big party with friends and family the weekend before, and the "Apple of our Eye" (the party's theme) enjoyed himself very much. Party activities included "Pictionary HD," Rochambo, bobbing for apples on a string, and a "How Well do you Know the Birthday Boy?" Quiz. My favorite part of the whole event was watching Pax eat his cupcake - at first, he was reluctant to touch it, not even sure it was consumable. But as soon as I showed him that it was, indeed, edible, he dug in with both hands. Within minutes, he was covered in frosting and positively delighted with himself. One of the many teeth he's cut recently has proven to be a big sweet tooth!(crinkle eyed birthday baby)

Jeff's parents arrived on the Actual Birth Day to help us celebrate - this was the first time Jeff's stepdad has seen Pax. We sang "Happy Birthday" to Pax countless times that day because of the reaction it prompted every time - a huge, crinkle-eye grin and lots of hand clapping. As every parent of the very young will attest, Pax was more interested in the boxes and wrapping paper that held the gifts than in the actual gifts themselves.

This year has gone by so quickly and yet, when I stop to reflect on the many months that Pax has been here, it seems like so much longer. Pax has truly lived up to his name. He fills our lives with peace and joy. Everyone who knows him well comments on what a smiley, happy person he is, and indeed, he is.

Our journey over the past year has been filled with many ups and downs, triumphs and struggles. What has remained constant and unchanging is the gratitude I feel every single day for Pax. I know I am not the only one who feels this; Jeff is smitten with Pax in a way that is different than it was with the older boys when they were babies, and Aidan has continued to absolutely adore every ounce of Pax. He gazes at Pax, holds him, kisses him, and loves him so tenderly and gently. Aidan refers to Pax as "my baby." And finally, Leo has come to appreciate the playmate that Pax will be. Coming from the boy who pleaded with me after Pax's birth, "put he back into your belly," this affirmation of a future playmate is enough for me.

Perhaps it is because I know he is likely our last baby; perhaps it is because I've learned from experience how quickly babies become toddlers...preschoolers... 1st graders; perhaps it is because of his always-smiling demeanor - whatever the case, I am so grateful for the blessing of Peace in our lives. Even amidst the chaos and noise of a family of five; even through the bickering, the tears, the fatigue, the worries, the tantrums, and my own exhaustion of still not having a full night's sleep, I feel insanely lucky. More accurately, I am insanely lucky.

Social Activists

"Do Justice, Love Kindness, Walk Humbly with Thy God." Micah 6:8

Tonight a woman on death row will be executed in the state of Virginia. Teresa Lewis was denied every appeal possible, from the Supreme Court to the governor. Her story is compelling and heartbreaking beyond most stories of death row inmates, and she, like all others facing execution, does not deserve this punishment. I have two friends who are intimately acquainted with Teresa Lewis. Today, for them, as well as in an attempt to appease my own social conscience, I stood with two of my children and 20 other men and women in protest against her execution.

I took this photo to bear witness to our protest today. I took this photo because when my children become grassroots organizers, political activists, and leaders of social justice, I want to have this on record. I want my children to look back on this day, and others in the future like this one, and say, my mom stood up. My mom stood up for others who could not. My mom protested and let her opinions be known and had the courage to bear witness to that which she opposes from the core of her being.

I struggle now with the right words to express what lays so heavy in my heart. I realized today how desperately I want my children to care, to have compassion, to love humanity. Perhaps it is my most fervent desire for each of them. And so I will lead them, as best I can, to
Do justice, love kindness, walk humbly with your God. Micah 6:8

First day of Preschool!

Leo is an official "school boy" now! He started preschool just after Labor Day, and is very proud of his new status - one that brings him one step closer to keeping pace with big brother.

I really had no idea how the first day would go with Leo - he is somewhat of a loose cannon - but he marched right into his classroom with his best buddy, Garrett, and said simply, "Goodbye Mom!" He was so proud to be wearing his brand new, pint-sized backpack, and had created a dozen different drawings to display in the backpack's see-through front pocket. In truth, the first day seemed much harder on me than it was on him. The car ride home was unnaturally quiet; I missed his sweet little voice asking me a million questions. But that is my great hope - that milestone days in the future will continue be harder on Mom than on my beloved boy. Jeff, recognizing that this was a hard day for me, surprised me with a gorgeous bouquet of salmon-colored roses when I arrived home from preschool drop off.

As the novelty has begun to wear off, it seems as though Leo is more in love with the idea of school than actually going to school. He brags of going to "library special" (Aidan's gym, library, Spanish, music, and art classes are called "specials") and points out his "school bus" every time we pass a Jaunt bus. He describes the homework he has to do that evening and writes out elaborate sentences (long scribbles) that he reads back to us with great emphasis and detail, pointing carefully to each turn of the marker as he reads. He tells great stories of the friends he has at school, naming kids he's heard Aidan mention - not actually naming kids in his own class. Drop off has become more difficult, and it is hard to watch him resist something I know he will come to love. I find myself silently thanking Aidan for all the lessons he taught me in his earliest preschool days; I know now, in the long run, how good preschool is for children. I know how important it is for them to take this big step toward independence. I know how hard it is for both of us, and yet, because of Aidan, I have great confidence with Leo that I once lacked with Aidan.

Leo is a magical thinker. He has started to discover his own way of navigating through the uncharted waters of the school world. Leo lets his imagination guide him through his reality, looking through the lens of his brother's world, making the unfamiliar more familiar through the shared experiences of being School Boys. He, like me, is faithfully and trustingly following the trail blazed before us by Aidan.