Baptism

Sam accepted Christ just before Christmastime, and he waited until Mamaw and Papaw could be here in January to be baptized. The day came, and he was pretty excited. We had to get there early and put on the white gown, which I was informed was easier referred to as a robe and that term made it much easier to get Sam into it. Kate went to Sunday School until it was time for service, and when I dropped her off she said, "Come get me when Sam's ready to get appetized." She referred to his being appetized for the entirety of the day.

While we were waiting through the songs and things, Sam was praise dancing in his little baptismal ROBE. It was such a fun sight-- he was so excited, and so happy, and I really do think that he was praising while he danced. The man who is the baptism expert at church, helping us with the robe and such, really got a hoot out of Sam I think. Rarely has he seen such a jubilant, at least physically so, candidate, I'd expect. Even while Sam waited in the baptismal tub for the curtains to be pulled back and the baptism to start, he was swimming around and having so much fun.

Stuart performed the baptism, which was so important to us and was so special. I know that will be a special bond between Sam and his Daddy for life.

We celebrated afterwards with the whole family-- only a small group of 30 or so people. Thank goodness everyone brought something and we had a great place (Bob and Adella's neighborhood clubhouse) to gather. We're so blessed to be able to share Sam's special day with so many people who love him.

I'll try to remember to download the pictures and put some up here-- he really was so cute! (You know, in a manly, 6-year-old boy way.

My piano virtuoso

Last week at piano, we were informed that Sam is signed up for Junior Festival. Those of you without painful memories of crying in the hallway after playing a wrong note, or learning the 2nd piece--the non-district contest piece-- in two weeks to qualify to Festival, may not realize what this means. Junior Festival is competitive piano. I know, you didn't know it existed, but it does. Kids of all ages gather at some predetermined-for-its-intimidation-factor site and play two pieces by memory for some crazy judge with a pen and paper. Oh, it's good times.

So, Sam's old enough to start, I guess, and he got his pieces last Wednesday. On the one hand, being the competitive person I am, I loved Festival. On the other, I'm terrified for the path down which we prepare to trod. I was told that "he can start earning points towards his first trophy." And that's how they suck you in: the trophy. No one tells these little piano innocents that a piano trophy is not exactly going in the National Football Hall of Fame. Where, you ask, are my large piano trophies? In some trash heap somewhere, thrown out after my parents sold my childhood home (no, it was not turned into a museum of any kind).

The other big improvement to Junior Festival is that you can choose what date you want to participate! Ooh, choices? Of course, the preferred date is the later one, right smack in the middle of spring break. But you can choose. Wow! Power to the people!

So, off we go, down the road of piano festival. Where am I going to put those piano trophies?

The bucket

Sam had his first day back to school yesterday, and came home pretty excited about seeing his friends. When I asked him what they learned, he told me that they learned about the invisible bucket. Later he recounted the same tale to Dad like this:

"Well, we learned about invisible buckets. You know, everyone has one that they carry around and stuff. So, there's two kinds of people. When you do nice things, or say something nice to someone, that's being a bucket filler. When you do mean stuff, that's being a bucket dipper. Bucket dippers think that they are..."

...and then Dad cut him off and he didn't really finish, but I'm thinking the end of that is something about how bucket dippers think that they are getting more full by taking from others, but they really are wasting the water. Or something philosophical like that. Sam's our resident philosopher, so I'm not surprised that this was a meaningful lesson for him.

Really, if they'd learn this now, it would save a lot of trouble later on. Particularly in middle school.

No love here please

Before school yesterday, the kids are sitting at the bar, eating their first dark-thirty breakfast of the 2010 half of the school year. They both had to be awakened, breaking what was a very hard-earned sleeping in habit that we worked on over the last two weeks. Neither is a great waker, but Sam is definitely the morning person of the two.

Sam looks over at Kate and says, "I love you Kate. You're the best sister a guy could have."

Kate says, "UGH! I don't want you to say that right now! I don't, I mean I don't want to say that right now."

I had to stifle a laugh and suggested a short "Thanks" next time.