Chandra's Journal
July 28, 2006


I love that last night when Canon was sitting on the couch watching Toy Story to wind down before bedtime, he reached over without looking and held my hand.

I love that when I go in his room in the morning or after his nap, he sleepily says, “Oh, hi Mommy!” like it’s a pleasant surprise every time.

I love that he doesn’t hold grudges. When I have to spank him (and believe me, it takes a long time for me to get there), he gets up and the first thing he does is put his arms around my neck and cry in my shoulder. It breaks my heart every time.

I love that he watches us and listens to us so carefully. Several times I’ve heard him talk on his phone (or the remote, or Mr. Potato Head’s arm, or really anything) and say, “This is Chandra Perkins… yes, hi!... we’re doing great, thank you… really?!...” And yesterday, after watching Drew try to figure out the gremlin in our garage door, Drew saw him later raising and lowering the shade on the window saying “Brrrr… eech… brrrr… eech.”

I love that he hates to hear Creed cry. He makes it very hard for me to ever let Creed really cry himself to sleep, because all Canon can think about is going in Creed’s room. He hollers out, “Creed’s crying! Let’s go get him?” A couple of times that I wasn’t watching carefully enough, Canon actually opened Creed’s door and by the time I got there, Canon was holding Creed’s hands through the crib saying, “It’s okay, it’s okay.” The teary smile Creed gives him is priceless. One more reason why I know Canon will be a great big brother.

I love that he can imagine anything. At supper last night he lifted his chicken strip up in the air and said, “Hi bird!... Hi Canon!... Nice to meet you… you, too!”

There were many days when I could only pray that I would get to see this transformation unfold. The one from babyhood to childhood. Pinocchio was told that to become a real boy he must prove himself brave, truthful, and unselfish. It’s happening right before our eyes. I feel, among mothers, blessed in many ways that I have perhaps a unique perspective on the fragility of my children’s lives. I am confident that I have not rushed Canon to become a “big boy”; in fact, probably the opposite is true. I have probably been holding him back. And I am at once excited and saddened to watch it happening. While it’s true that I might never be “ready” to say goodbye to each stage as it passes, I feel satisfied in my gut that I have soaked up as much of it as I could. And as Canon’s supply of babyhood runs dry, I am so thankful that Creed is around to give me more! I don’t even want to think about Creed growing out of it.

Sweet Baby Creed. He’ll be hot on Canon’s heels in no time. He walks around with his little push toy as proud as punch, but as of yet has not made attempts at walking by himself. He says Mama, Daddy, Nana, Daddo, dog, ball, “ruf, ruf”, “moo”, and “no, no, no, no…” Bless his heart. It was a long time before we had to tell Canon “no” because he didn’t get into things he shouldn’t. At his first birthday he couldn’t sit up from lying down, crawl, or stand. Poor Creed hears “no” more times than he cares to in a day. From all three of us. Canon used to give him a loud “n-n-n-n-NO!” when Creed would try to take something from Canon, but after I got on to him a lot for not being sweet and sharing he now uses a gentler, more singsongy “No-no Creed” like I do. (I know that’s very ineffective – all the books say so.) Creed responds quickly to No-Nos and usually turns to look at us and then looks at the offense in question (plug, cabinet, dogfood, etc…) and repeats to himself “no-no-no-no…” He’s very smart and typically turns from his temptation to find a more acceptable activity, but as is human nature, he occasionally has to test the threat to his amusement. After telling him no twice, I usually swat him pretty good (Drew would probably laugh at my definition of “pretty good”). It just takes once and he crumples – face buried in his feet with the most heartbroken cry. He has a very sensitive spirit. Maybe he’ll be one of those kids that you just have to give “the look” to and he straightens up. From my lips to God’s ears.

I can’t believe he’s fixing to be a year old. What a phenomenal year it’s been for all of us.

We’re working on getting a picture of Jordan put on Canon’s website. I’m really anxious to show people the angelic face of the little boy who gave the ultimate gift to Canon. I think it will come as a little bit of a shock. It did to me the first time I saw his picture. It makes everything more human, more emotional. It just makes it real. I see the scar where Jordan’s liver was given to Canon several times every day, and it doesn’t get any easier. Some look at that scar and see red lines and raised tissue. I see a life lost, a life saved, a year of prayers answered, a miracle, a true story.

Chandra


“We proclaim to you what we have seen and heard so that you may have fellowship with us. And our fellowship is with the Father and His Son, Jesus Christ. We write this to make our joy complete.” 1 John 1:3-4