The gentle, the clown, and the clean? And Pops...

Luke. Need I say more? He is such a sensitive soul. One day recently, I was talking to him about Pops, because he knows that Pops (his Great Pops) has passed away. Interestingly enough, one of the random items that has made it out of the attic onto our bookshelf in the family room is my wedding album--not "the" album, but the one with all of the snapshots. Phylis Alexander, my photographer, had taken a bunch of those that day, and I am thankful. Almost ten years later, I now realize what a gift that was. Anyway, I whipped it out, and showed him a few pics of Pops from that day. Incidentally, here they are. Priceless. I treasure these.



And below, two of my favorites, the ones that gives me a punch in the stomach with the memory of his warm, friendly face. The one that makes me remember the jokes he used to tell at dinner time, and all of the "funnies" that he used to send over e-mail:



So we start going through my album. Then we come to this pic:

I explain that Aunt Sarah and Mimomo are sad because on this day, even though it is happy that I am getting married, I won't be with them in their house anymore, that Sarah and I are sisters, and that Aunt Sarah will miss me. I look over at him, and his lower lip is quivering. I burst out with "Oh, Luke, Aunt Sarah isn't sad anymore! She is OK!" He was crying. Sweet boy, he couldn't stand for Aunt Sarah to be sad!

So Wilmore has been bursting with fuzzy caterpillars as of late. Jon David caught one, we made it a home (actually, Don caught it for him after hearing about the class bully killing his caterpillars that he caught at school one day :( . Well, of course Luke wanted one too. So we helped him with a brand new disposable tuperware container home with holes punched in the top, grass to eat, the whole nine yards. Well, the trouble came in when the boys decided that the caterpillars were thirsty. Yea... I think you can see where this is going. Sweet Luke. For some reason, he was a little more generous with the water than Jon David was. I think I was taking a nap or something, and Don was studying. By the time we realized what they had done, the poor insect had left this earthly world. Luke cried and cried. He had a hard time getting over that one.
Most recently, this past week in fact, he was pretty sick. We think it was strep throat, even though the swab came back negative. It wiped out two thirds of his preschool class. It was a nasty thing, whatever it was, and it took him the entire week to get over it. I want you to know that he stayed away from his baby brother like a champ. Even sometimes when I would say, "would you pick up his toy" or what have you, he would remind me "Mommy, I don't want Caleb to get my germs." What a kid! And believe me, Caleb really missed him. Both Caleb and I have gotten used to Luke being able to entertain him--and now we realize just how much he does!

On a lighter note, I heard this the other day:
Luke: baby toys are fun.
JD: are not.
Luke: are too.
JD: D2.
I tell you what, star wars is becoming firmly engrained into our vernacular. Jon David loves to tell jokes. He is pretty good at coming up with them, too! He laughed at me the other day, because I was talking about the Bakugan toys. I pronounced it "back-oo-gan." He said "Mom, it's "backahgahn." "Oh," I said with many different flash backs going through my head: Don recounting how his Mom used to say "Tommy Hilfinger" instead of Tommy Hilfiger (sp??); my own Mom pronouncing Paula Abdul as is she was born and raised in Nantes, France, b/c that is where she was in the eighties, when Paula made it to the top; and a number of other such mom-isms. Ha! I have officially entered those ranks.

And last, but far from least, sweet Caleb Tom Tom, as we sometimes call him, taking a bath, and clapping. Oh! And he has been "scooting", flirting with crawling too, rocking back and forth, the whole nine yards. Oh yea, life as we know it is about to change DRASTICALLY!

(Caleb: 8 months)