Jonah, Two-Year-Old Squirrel

We finally got gates for the fence yesterday, which means the yard is now escape-proof (until the monkeys figure out how to climb to the top and unhook the latch). So today, for the first time, I sent the kids out to play all by themselves.

Lovely feeling, really. It was so 1950's. "Children, children! Go outside and play this instant! Soak up sunshine! Build forts! Throw dirt! Leave me to my peaceful kitchen, while the baby takes incredibly long naps in the silent house." (I don't really talk like that, but it was a nice thought.)

So I spent the morning alone in a quiet house. Wow. You would think this would inspire me to accomplish great and mighty deeds of creativity and cleanliness. But mostly I read long birth stories on the internet. (No, I'm not pregnant.)

Shortly after Naiah woke up, I heard Jonah yelling in the yard. I waited to see if he would stop on his own, but he persisted. Finally I took the baby outside to see what he was doing. I couldn't find him. Somewhere near the shed, he was shouting, "I am NOT having tea! I am having a TEA PARTY!"

Then I noticed that the lilac bush-- the twelve-feet-tall, twelve-feet-thick tangle of limbs and trunks and leaves and blossoms-- was shaking violently. I looked up.

Ten feet from the ground, half-hidden by a mass of lilac leaves, I spotted the yellow of Jonah's shirt. He was standing-- not sitting-- on a limb less than one and a half inches thick, near the top of the bush, bouncing, and ranting about his tea party.

The bush was so dense and tangled, there was no way to get under him. So I put the baby down and came as close as I could. The limb he was standing on kept bending and springing back, and showed no signs of breaking, thankfully. "Jonah!" I said, "You come down from there!"

I had no idea how he could do it, as most of the branches grew vertically, and there weren't many footholds that I could see. I only hoped he would figure it out, since he obviously figured out the way UP.

He didn't even consider going back the way he came. Instead, he did something out of Tarzan (the Disney/Surfer version), and slid on his feet-- his bare feet!-- all the way down the branch, then down another tangle of branches and landed on his bottom.

"What is it, Mommy?" he said, apparently unfazed.

"What on earth were you doing up there?"

"I was having a tea party."

"Okay. . ." I said, lacking a better comeback. What to say? What?

The bush was unharmed. The boy was fine. Should I forbid him to climb? I used to climb trees when I was little. . . and big. And this wasn't even a tree, really, just an overgrown bush that seemed pliable and safe enough. Then again, I never stood at the top of a tree. Nor did I ever slide down from limb to limb on my feet. Who is this kid?

"Well. . . Don't yell," I said, and left him to tree-surf in peace.

Pray for Aaron

Aaron (recently diagnosed with AML, an aggressive form of Leukemia) has a high fever again. Please pray that the fever would disappear, and that he would be able to heal from the chemo. Pray that God miraculously heals his body and shows the doctors who He is.