The birth or adoption of your own child is a phenomenal event, obviously. But the birth or adoption of a niece or nephew is just something else. It’s exciting and thrilling. It’s wonderful to see your sibling become a parent and take on this amazing responsibility of raising a human being (something you could never have fathomed in your younger years). Also, being an aunt is simply awesome. It involves all the goodness of the adult/child relationship without the responsibility—purely delightful, I believe.

I became an aunt for the second time last Friday morning at 11:08am. With Mom giving me the play-by-play as she could tell from the hospital waiting area, I knew the birth of my first nephew was imminent. In a moment between me selling tchotchkes at our garage sale and getting a glass of water, Noah Robert Lawton was entering the world, all 9lb 1oz, 21.5 inches of him.

Noah is a beautiful little guy and I’m incredibly proud of all the hard work Kristin did to deliver him! Adam, from what I understand, was pretty cool too. My brother and Kris are great parents and I love their sweet family so much. Congrats to big sister Madeleine and welcome to the world, Noah Robert!

We’ve got a new thing going in our neighborhood: a community vegetable garden. With old houses on small lots, everyone on our block has minimal room for planting vegetables. Enter the old Zion (now Redeemer) lot that is empty—full of potential, but empty nonetheless. So with the blessing of our pastor Tobey, the neighbors came together and planned a large garden plot to divide among five of us.

And now we’re geeks, garden geeks. Hovering, nurturing, worrying garden mamas, if you will. We’ll meet each other in among the tomatoes and cucumbers, and converse aloud about what type of mulch to use, who last watered, and how often you have to do some weeding. (I’m using grass, I’m grateful for a neighbor whose sprinkler hits my patch and to God who watered for me last night, and my husband is my hoeing hero. If you were wondering.)

I decided this morning that the term “geek” applies because we all get so excited about the progress of our little plants. Today I’m astounded at the pumpkin seeds that were planted last in my space. None of the little gourd seeds grew, but I’ve got a few amazingly healthy blue pumpkins whose leaves are bigger than my hand. I fear they will dominate my patch and perhaps some of the closest neighbor’s, too, but for today I’m just excited at how healthy they are. The Roma plants are all doing well, including a recently transplanted seedling. The broccoli and cauliflower plants, courtesy of the Wittmanns, are strong and sturdy. The cucumbers demand a strong tower to climb, and numerous pea plants are already climbing… on the weeds and grasses nearby. How funny to see their small tendrils curling around a stalk of grass that crept onto garden turf. Clearly, I need to get some stakes in there pronto.

I love our gardens. I love the gorgeous perennials and annuals Jeremy has carefully encouraged into bloom—and that Liv has assisted in planting—and I love the growing vegetables in my garden patch. I may not read a book all summer (another post for another day), but I will be outside, rejoicing in the beauty of God’s growing things.

Apparently, I’ve never read The Hobbit. I wrapped up the Lord of the Rings trilogy before seeing the movies—books, then movies, typically the ordering I prefer—but somehow I never got around to The Hobbit… until now.

I had envisioned Livia and I moving on to the next Little House book after we completed Little House in the Big Woods, but Jeremy had a different recommendation. I questioned the sense of reading The Hobbit to a five year old. Silly me! Have I met my five year old? She has an imaginary black dragon named Big Boy living under her bed, say nothing of all the villains she pretends to be on a regular basis. (Though, I should add that she also pretends to be Jesus and the Holy Spirit. We like to keep a healthy balance around here.) This morning Jeremy has been assigned the role of Gollum, which means he has to use the phrase “my precioussss” as much as possible.

It’s been an enjoyable family time for us, this reading of The Hobbit. Last night’s installment brought about two big moments, moments that made me say “oh!” with surprise and excitement of the knowledge of their great importance in the future of Middle Earth.

First, Bilbo, stuck in the deep darkness of a cave, finds a trinket: “He…crawled along for a good way, till suddenly his hand met what felt like a tiny ring of cold metal lying on the floor of the tunnel. It was a turning point in his career, but he did not know it. He put the ring in his pocket almost without thinking; certainly it did not seem of any particular use at the moment.” (p.64)

Did Liv wonder why Mom was making big eyes and silent but silly facial expressions at Daddy at this point?! Yes, I was all geeked out at the first mention of The Ring. One ring to rule them all, One ring to find them, One ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them.

Second, I love the way Tolkien transitions the reader’s focus into the Gollum introduction. After Bilbo finds the ring, I figured Gollum couldn’t be too far off—even though I’ve never read The Hobbit, I know the story and have seen at least one animated movie version. The Planet Earth series actually came to mind when I read the following description, “There are strange things living in the pools and lakes in the hearts of mountains: fish whose father swam in, goodness only knows how many years ago, and never swam out again, while their eyes grew bigger and bigger and bigger from trying to see in the blackness; also there are other things more slimy than fish. Even in the tunnels and caves the goblins have made for themselves there are other things living unbeknown to them that have sneaked in from outside to lie up in the dark.” (p.66)

Oooo. Shudder. Hello, Gollum!

The garden produced a radish. I was pretty excited and then surprised myself by how much I enjoyed photographing the sole veggie the garden has produced (so far). Jeremy and I split the radish. It was spicy.

Shiloh visited the vet’s office for some vaccinations. During some sort of fecal, er, retrieval, I was reminded why I didn’t want to be a veterinarian: Shiloh’s pathetic puppy cries from the backroom were hard for me to hear.

Mom took Liv for the afternoon and gave me some delightful rest.

While Mom had Liv, Jeremy had a kidney stone. Still has it, as far as we know. A visited to LincCare confirmed the little bugger and at the moment, Jeremy is managing the pain. We appreciate prayers for the stone to pass quickly.

We’re moving on to watch a little Deadliest Catch now that Livia is asleep. ‘Night, y’all.

Our little pup is doing great. He’s seriously the cutest thing ever and adds a new dimension of fun to our home. Recently a friend asked how we’re doing with the dog—and I told her that the dog is far easier than the child! He doesn’t talk back. We can put him in his kennel when he has a potty accident or the when the chaos is getting to me. We don’t have to worry about whether he gets enough fruits and vegetables each day. Etc, etc.

I don’t know if all Cotons are like Shiloh—surely some in his breed aren’t as delightful as he is—but overall, this little pooch is remarkably easy-going. He is quick to learn and is doing really well with potty-training. He likes to be part of the “pack” and will either sleep or work on a chew toy right by our feet. He’s not a lap dog, but being close to our legs satisfies him. He loves people, so much so that I have to keep him away from joggers and school kids so he doesn’t go home with them. Still in the puppy stage, Shiloh definitely nips with us a lot. But even then, we find that he responds well to a sharp “No!” The hardest thing is training Livia to understand that a playing puppy means a biting puppy. Liv moves quickly from playing hard with him (wrestling, she calls it) to shrieking in pain from a particularly sharp chomp. It seems like we have to separate them like a parent would any two children. “You, on the couch! You, in the kennel!” Okay, so it’s not really like two children.

At a doctor’s appointment yesterday, Liv was asked if she had any brothers or sisters. (My not-so-favorite line of questioning, as I recently shared.) She said, “I have a baby dog. A baby BROTHER dog!” I had to smile.

In light of the last post on the frustrations of infertility (thank you, by the way, to everyone who commented), I have to point out that this photo captures the grace of God in my life. He gave me Livia almost five years ago and for that I am a kind of grateful that words can’t accurately describe.

Jeremy and I walked into Jewish Family Service in Omaha about seven years ago in order to get approved for adoption by the state of Nebraska. Our social worker expressed a bit of surprise at my age—and I laugh now thinking of it—because apparently it was a rarity to interview a 24 year old for a homestudy. No kidding! Adoption is usually the second option compared to the first, which is pregnancy. But I praise God that he had prepared my heart for adoption years before, and that he gave me a husband who was willing to adopt as well. I mean really, I cannot imagine my life without Livia Raine. As many times as I say “no” and she says “yes,” as many times as I have to tell her to PUT THE DOG DOWN!, as many times as I stumble mentally to find creative ways to entice/encourage/promote obedience within her, Livia brings unspeakable joy to my heart.

Two years after the homestudy was completed, a baby girl needed a home. After so much wondering of the future (on my part, I don’t know that Jeremy felt the same way), after lots of tears and the greatest doubts of faith I had ever experienced, we received a simple email that sent us well on our way to parenthood. God is good, all the time. All the time, God is good.

Thank you, God, for the joy you have given me.

Shiloh is fun and sweet. Livia is fun and sweet. Baby birds and springtime are fun and sweet.

But Shiloh also requires extra work on our parts.

Mostly he requires extra work because Livia isn’t handling the new addition quite so well. Our sensitive kid, while fun and sweet, has been a pistol of naughtiness recently.

I’m freaking wiped out by her bad behavior.

I post pics and brief descriptions because I like the subject matter, but life isn’t always fun and sweet. Sometimes life is stressful and ugly.

My world doesn’t look the way I want it to. I never planned on having my child turn five without having a brother or sister to share life with. I never figured Jeremy and I would have just one child. And when people ask if I have other kids, my mind flits to the baby I lost over two years ago before I say in a fake cheerful voice, “Nope, she’s our only one!”

Many beloved friends are pregnant right now. It’s an incredible challenge for me to express excitement for them while still grieving the fact that I’m not pregnant. I’ve realized it’s okay to both hope and mourn at the same time, yet it’s hard to do both in a practical sense.

I’m not always sad about infertility. And I’m not always hopeless. But today I’m feeling the sadness while I wonder about the future. Will I be pregnant again some time soon? Will we adopt more children? Only my sovereign God knows.

(Quick, someone post of a picture of something fun and sweet.)

Getting a puppy feels similar to adding a baby to our home. The dishes have piled up on the counter (even though my mom has washed them several times for me), the beds are unmade, toys are left all over the floor. But as with human babies, dog babies are freakishly adorable. And our pup is no exception. Shiloh’s sweet puppy face and silly puppy antics make up for the discomfort of disrupted routines and lack of housekeeping. He’s just so darn cute.