Hey love,

I figure it is about time for us to start blogging again. I did see that we had a few visitors here and there, even though we have not blogged in months! It’s funny how we stopped blogging after we came home, funny but not overly surprising considering the considerable amount of increased activity. But it’s all good. We have simply stored up many more lessons to write back and forth about. And many more stories.

As I told you tonight, I wanted to put last night’s incidents in writing, if nothing else for our posterity’s sake. I suppose that I should begin by saying that over the course of the last few months we have been having difficulties getting Abigail to go down to sleep. She is tough isn’t she? Yea, no need to answer. But as I have said before, I like that about her. She doesn’t give up easily. If she wants something, she will endure what she must to see if it can be obtained. Our greatness strength is our greatest weakness. That is evident in her. Let’s pray that the Lord would use her strength mightily to His glory.

Anyhow, she is now sleeping upstairs in her new sweet bedroom. But of course she enjoys visits with her parents now and again, visits that have never turned out to be much more than discipline sessions. Yet she presses on, seeking to break down her parents a bit. Little does she know that she received the strong will from us!

So she comes up with every excuse in the book to come downstairs. Last nights was the best though. For as I was cutting my hair (yes, I do that myself), I hear a little voice outside the bathroom door. After opening it, Abigail walks in and says, “Daddy, I was having a bad dream.” To which I reply, “Abigail, I am having a hard time believing that because you have not fallen asleep yet!” She replies with her characteristic, “Yea…” (Her answer to anything she doesn’t fully understand.) Then I tell her that the only reason I am not going to put the baby gate up (something she definitely does not want to happen) is because I have hair all over me since I am in the middle of my haircut. So she promptly runs upstairs, not forgetting of course to ask me (as she does every single time a couple times over) to leave the door ‘just a little bit open’ for her comfort and sleeping ease. I tell her that I will leave the door a little bit open for the rest of her life and then she goes up to her bedroom (the stairs go straight into her bedroom).

Well about 15 or 20 minutes goes by when I hear a little voice at the stairs crying out in apparent agony, “But you said the door would be a little bit open. Daddy, it has to be a little bit open…..a little bit open….” (you get the picture). So I look up the stairs and there is little Abigail, her controlling little self distraught over the fact that the door is not a little bit open, but almost all the way open. She could not go to sleep with it any other way. So the habit continues where she checks to see if the door is just right before she can go to bed (yes, I know Erin that you will confess that she received that from you, but as we know, I have plenty of that obsessive compulsive disorder type thing going on, so we can share the blame).

So I think things are over when the middle of the night comes. I open my eyes to see little Abigail at the side of my bed. And what does she say but “Daddy, I was having a bad dream.” Once again, I call her bluff and say, “Well Abigail, you are still going to have to go back to bed.” (So understanding I am at 3 in the morning). Then Abigail gets to the real reason she is down there by saying, “Daddy, I can’t find balnerina.” (Yes, the spelling is right, it’s balnerina to this three-year-old). Ahhh, the obsessive compulsive thing again. Half asleep I lose my strength of convictions and use the baby gate threat once again (even though I should have followed through with it in that moment, I just wasn’t sure I had what it took to endure what I would have had to in those moments. Yes, I was probably limited God. But that is another story. Your prayers are appreciated). Well, after hearing about the baby gate once again, Abigail said, “But I don’t want the baby gate to go up.” I replied, “Well then, you better go upstairs and go to sleep. And if you want ballerina (yes, I say it correctly), you will have to find her.”

Abigail doesn’t miss a beat and promptly goes upstairs, only to say a few more times before turning the corner, “Daddy, could you leave the door a little bit open.” “Yes, Abigail, I will.” Thankfully then, the Lord gave us rest until the morning.

In the next few days, I would like to draw out some lessons hidden within these events. But for now, it is time to call it a night. I’m thankful that I got back into the blogging wagon, at least the srsblog blogging wagon. For it is good to relay some of the crazy joys of parenting. I am sure that I am not alone, but there is something special about putting such things in writing. And therein is another lesson. But that will have to wait until another day, for I need to go get some sleep just in case those little feet coming walking down the stairs in search of the balnerina rescue squad and the professional door closers who know how to put that door in the perfect position for sleep.

What a joy it is! I thank God for the pleasure.
Thankful for the joy of leading little ones with you,
Joe