Posts Tagged ‘Turner’

Yesterday I had the rare opportunity to take Turner to his preschool on the bus. The day before I had unfortunately gotten a flat tire on our brand new minivan after picking up the kids from school. It wasn’t fun having to sit at the gas station for an hour with 3 kids waiting for roadside assistance, but with the car’s DVD player and the one granola bar I managed to find in my bag, we somehow made it through.

So anyways, Larry wanted to take the car in to the dealer early in the morning so he wouldn’t have to deal with waiting in line, which meant I would be car-less for morning school drop offs. I borrowed a car from a friend to take Christopher to his carpool ride and then decided I would take Turner to school on the bus so that I could go straight to the car dealer afterwards to retrieve our car. Turner couldn’t be more excited to go on the big public bus. For the first few weeks of school he would look longingly at the yellow school buses parked in front and always ask me if he would get to go on them. Berkeley public transit may not be the same as a yellow school bus, but in the eyes of a 3 year old, it’s just as exciting.

We walked the couple of blocks from our house to the bus stop and waited for only about 5 minutes before our bus pulled up. I instructed Turner before getting on that he should say “Good morning” to the driver, and he did just that as we ascended the steps. I asked him where he wanted to sit, and he said, “in the caboose!” so we marched to the back of the bus and plunked down in two empty seats by the window. As the bus pulled away and as we watched the streets of the city flash past us, I was suddenly transported back to my childhood. I did most of my growing up in New York City and taking public transportation was a huge part of my life. I think as early as 4th grade I was already taking the public bus to school on my own and in junior high and high school, I had to take two buses everyday to school. I have fond memories of me and my friends gallivanting all over the city with our free school bus passes. It’s a little shocking to me now as a mom to think of how much freedom I had back then as a kid.


Waiting at the bus stop


Sitting in “the caboose”


As the bus curved its way through downtown Berkeley, I looked out the window with my son and noticed things I had never seen before. Turner and I took turns pointing things out to each other, people we saw walking down the streets, things we saw in shop windows. Before we knew it, we were at our stop. I pressed the stop requested button and both of us hopped out the back door and took our time walking the four blocks to his preschool. He was as happy as a clam…and I was too. I don’t think I would trade in the convenience of a car for taking public transportation every day, but it was nice not to be the one behind the wheel for one morning. And it was also nice being able to share a slice of my childhood with my son.







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As I write this, both my boys are napping peacefully in their room. Sometimes the stars align and they will both nap at the same time. My attempted French braid from this morning is a mess after lying down with CC on his bed before he fell asleep. I’m not sure who fell asleep first, him or me. Both of us had closed our eyes after I had whisper-read to him the new books I got from the library today. I whisper-read to him so as not to wake his baby brother sleeping in the crib just 5 feet away…but also because I’ve found whisper reading to be a surefire way to put CC to sleep. I guess I must have dozed off for 5 minutes. I woke up to the soft breathing of CC in my ear. Before I got up to leave, I turned my head to look at that perfect little face, eyes shut tight showing off the long lashes that I wish he had inherited from me. His eyes fluttered open briefly when I tried to quietly roll off the bed, but quickly closed again when I stroked his cheek and told him to go back to sleep.

As I tiptoed out of the room, I snuck a peek at the little boy in the crib who just turned ten months old two days ago. He’s sleeping on his side, facing the wall, his chubby bare legs stacked one on top of the other. He’s my baby, but he won’t be a baby for much longer, growing up as fast as he possibly can to keep up with his big brother. Oh these boys. My heart strings are being tugged so hard I almost can’t leave the room. Why did no one tell me that this business of raising little human beings could make you so sentimental?

There’s so much I want for my boys – for them to be happy, to know that they’re loved, to never have to know pain or suffering. But I know that some things are just not in my power to give and it’s not up to me to plan out the course of their lives. So the one thing that I would ask of Him who is their heavenly Father and mine is that my boys would grow up not just being brothers in the flesh…that one day they would know each other as brothers in Christ. That they would go from brothers who play together to brothers who pray together. From sharing snacks and fighting over toys to sharing the gospel and fighting for the kingdom. From being fierce competitors to being fervent companions. That they would lead each other to the Lord during those years when it’s considered uncool to listen to the advice of your parents. That they would stand together against the tide of the world when their friends are all going another way. That they would pursue Christ with all their heart and be young men who would turn the age and bring the Lord back. That’s what I want for my boys.

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Sorry I let the whole month of August slide by without a single post. I’m still getting used to being a mother of two and juggling a toddler and a newborn doesn’t leave one much time to write. As a matter of fact, it doesn’t leave one much time to shower, or sleep, or clean…you get the picture. With crying kids, greasy hair, sleep deprivation, and a messy apartment, blogging has been kind of low on my list of priorities. I’m sure you understand.

This summer has been a whirlwind for us, beginning with Turner being born, grandparents coming and going, and one of the busiest summers ever in terms of our contact with students on campus. Turner has had an exciting first two months. So far he’s been to the city twice, been on a camping trip where he got to sleep with mama in the back of a minivan for two nights, stayed  in a hotel, and gone on a mini road trip to Modesto. I’ve become quite a pro at nursing him on the go – on the Bart, on the floor of a department store, at the beach.

Now that things have settled down a bit, I’m so glad to finally return to some sort of normal routine again. While it was wonderful to have our parents come out to help and not have to cook and clean for a month, I’m actually happy to once again regain dominion over my kitchen, albeit a very messy one. So yes, a new semester means back to school, back to structure and back to normality. And I don’t just mean the beginning of a new college semester. Did I mention that CC started preschool this year? He started last week and loves it. I think I love it more though. For me preschool means three (more like 2.5 with commute time) glorious hours of freedom every morning. I’m still trying to figure out how I can best maximize those few precious hours.

In the past few days after I’ve dropped CC off at school,  I immediately feel like I’m in an iron chef competition racing against the ticking clock to get everything done – grocery shopping, cleaning, laundry, etc. But the Lord has been faithful to remind me of what’s most important and that if I love Him like I say I do, then I would spend at the least 15 minutes of those precious 2.5 hours with Him. Last week I went to Ikea after dropping CC off only to find that it didn’t open for another half hour. But their cafe was open and was serving free coffee. That was a reminder from the Lord to slow down, put my shopping list away and just be with Him. So I sat down with a cup of decaf and enjoyed a sweet date with Him in the Word.

All in all, it has been a pretty good transition from one to two. There are days when I get frazzled and feel like I’m at the end of my rope, like when neither kid will nap or if they do nap, not at the same time. Or when I have to choose which child to attend to and which one to leave crying. But every time I hold our son Turner, I’m reminded that I need to be a turner…someone who turns again and again to the Lord. I’m learning that to get the timely help, I need to come forward to the throne of grace (Heb. 4:16). So for those of you who were wondering…we’re doing okay. We’re enjoying grace, and at the end of the day, that’s all that matters.

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