Oh How Good It Is …

… When brethren dwell together … or families.  Tonight I just have to say that I’m so thankful for living with Mom and Dad.  Yes, I know — you think I’m schizophrenic.  I know I’ve devoted an inordinate amount of real estate on this blog to whining about the woes of multi-generational living, but the truth of the matter is, I’m thankful in a million genuine ways.  For example, the amazing, wonderful, life-changing prayer retreat that Jeff and I were so privileged to go to.  How do you think that was possible?  Because my parents were willing to give up their three days to take care of our son, including driving out twice to the remote retreat center where we stayed, once so that I could nurse Dutch and then at the end so that we could get Dutch and hurry over the mountain to Bend without backtracking.  Yes, they did this–exhausting themselves and their gas tank, so that we could do that prayer retreat. While we were worshipping and soaking up the presence of the Lord, they were wiping Dutch’s poopy bottom (although it is such a cute poopy bottom!), and sleeping next to the monitor so they coud hear every whimper at night.  Saints.  Yes, they are saints. 

Then, after a quick recovery over the weekend, Monday rolled around and it was once again their turn with the Dutcher.  This morning, just minutes before Jeff and I were racing out the door, Dutch pooped one of his I’ve-been-saving-this-up-for-days poops, which wound up everywhere from his armpits to his knees somehow.  We quickly wiped him down, turned on the bathwater, and handed our naked little sleepy-headed boy over to mom and dad to begin their 12-hour day of Dutch duty.  As we drove to class, I just had to marvel at how thankful I was.  If it were not for them, I could not get a seminary education.  There is no way we could make this all work.  Yes, their house, garage, and shop is absolutely teeming with all of our stuff.  Yes, there are a few too many of us living in close quarters. Yes, we’re all looking forward to the day when we have at least a few miles between us.  But for now, we are making some memories we will never forget.  The days of Dutch escaping from my dad during diaper changes and running around the house naked, then squatting in the corner of the wood floor and pooping (yes, he did that!).  The days of Dutch obsessed with playing outside, to the point that whenever a reference to “outside” was made, he’d grab his shoes and go stand by the door like a puppy.  The days of letting Dutch sit in the driver’s seat of the Jeep for 45 minutes at a time while he made motor noises, kicking his legs in sheer contentment.  The days of Dutch going for walks “by himself” pushing away Papa’s hand from helping him, exploring the grass and flowers and rocks and bugs.  Yes, it’s a crazy adventurous season, but I’m so thankful.

So, thanks Mom and Dad, for all your help.  How about taking next week off (spring break) — you can escape to Salt Lake City where Kris lives and actually get some rest! 🙂