Caleb's First Dance

So I went on a date to a dance last night.  My date was a little short, and he wore a mask and all black.  But other than that he was so dreamy.

We had a little help in getting ready for the dance...

Wren really wanted to go with us too...She is her mother's daughter...

It was Caleb's first dance!  As a girl who never missed a school dance growing up, he didn't have to ask me twice to go with him.  And it felt very reminiscent of my old school dances with the blaring speakers and flashing lights all set up in the school lunchroom, some kids hanging back by the wall, others running around with their friends, and still others (of which I was usually included) dancing their hearts away in the middle of the room.  I must admit though that I have never had a date hold my hand so tightly and for the entirety of the dance like Caleb did.  He wasn't quite sure what to make of all of the noise and lights, and I think he was a little nervous.

We did dance a little (even with his death grip on my hand), and we ran into one of his classmates.  With a lot of coaxing, I was even able to get him to let go of my hand just long enough to take a picture with his friend.

After about an hour at the dance, he told me he was ready to go, so we left, with one final picture next to the ghost in front of the school.  The whole way home he talked about how much fun the dance was.

The jury's still out on whether or not he will be participating much in school dances, though I'm guessing with the right girl's hand to hold, he wouldn't miss it for the world.

Young, Wild & Three

When we were in the thick of late night feedings, changing 20 diapers a day, and wearing eau de spit-up as our personal fragrance, I thought this day would never come.  And if it did, I knew that it would be the day that we would have truly "arrived" as parents.  Our oldest would be in kindergarten, half way through writing his dissertation, and, on the whole, entirely self sufficient.  And our littles would be potty trained, able to recite the U.S. presidents in order from memory, and three years old.  While some of the aforementioned is not true (ok, most of it), it is true that Wren and Judson turned three this weekend.
We had a huge bash to celebrate, complete with pet adoptions (stuffed animals), a house full or family and friends, and lots of yummy treats.

All the kids were able to pick out a "pet" to adopt and name.

Before any pet adoption could be finalized, all pets had to be checked out by the "vet."

And we of course had to have official adoption ceremonies once all the prerequisites were met (the lawyer side of me just couldn't resist).

For cakes, Wren insisted on a pink cake, and Judson got a number "3" race track (off of which he enjoyed picking and eating the M&Ms).

The rest of the party was spent opening gifts and enjoying hanging out with our guests.

It was a wonderful time, and we're so thankful for everyone who came out to make it so special!
As to having "arrived" as parents, I'm a seasoned enough parent at this point to know that never really happens.  If I've learned anything from my parenting battles over the past year or so (including Wren's potty refusal problems and Caleb's school bus saga), it's that once you surpass one obstacle, there's always another (often even more dauting) obstacle not too far ahead.  So you just pick yourself up, maybe share a few war stories and laughs with fellow parents, gird up your loins for what is to come, and, most importantly, revel in sweet moments and celebrations like these, storing them up for when things aren't so fun because you never know what's around the corner.  And because before you know it, those massive hurdles will be just bumps in the road in your rearview mirror - just like 3:00 a.m. feedings now seem like an eternity ago.
Though these parties are certainly a labor of love, I would have it no other way - for they represent all that we've overcome as a family, the wonderful milestones to look forward to, and God's goodness and provision to us throughout it all.