the holy family

I was so excited for our Halloween costumes this year. I had it all planned out. Rory would be Joseph, I would be Mary and we would drive all around to friends and family houses in a panic, with Rory pleading for room in their Inn, telling them that his wife was great with child. In my head, this was genius. I had my mom get costumes from church and I was ready for the drama to unfold.

In an odd twist, I actually was going into labor on Halloween, so I never got to live out this brilliant costume idea. Instead, about the time I was hoping to be going door to door, laughing about going into labor, I was actually in active labor, trying to survive from contraction to contraction. (It should be noted, however, that the picture above of me as Mary was taken moments before we went to the hospital the first time. As we were leaving the house I was lamenting the fact that such a perfect costume would not be used and so I put it on and had Rory take my picture. This might be added to my birth story: If you are trying on halloween costumes on your way to the hospital, you probably aren't in serious labor yet.)

Fast forward to a few weeks ago when Ivar was asked to be baby Jesus at my home church. Remember how we just weren't quite comfortable having a 5th grader carry our newborn up stairs while wearing a robe cinched up with a rope? Our baby just felt to fragile to hand over so soon...

So, imagine our great surprise when last weekend, as we were walking into church for the Christmas program, we were intercepted by the nativity coordinator and asked if the three of us would be Mary, Joseph and Baby Jesus on Christmas Eve. Rory's reply was, "For crying out loud!" (I think he knew this holy family thing wasn't going to just go away) We agreed because this time we would be holding our baby and as Rory put it so eloquently, "well, we'll be there anyway..." Thank you, Joseph.

So on Christmas Eve, Ivar got to be Jesus. And he was fantastic. He kicked his bare feet and wiggled his hands the whole time. I'm afraid I looked more like Cousin Itt than Mary, as my hair covered my face the whole time I looked down to keep Ivar content. But it was great, and a truly sweet moment for our little family.

eight weeks

Dear Ivar,
You are eight weeks old today. And I love you to pieces. When you wake up in the morning I walk to your crib tired and slow and then I see you and my heart overflows. It's such a cool feeling. It's like I am surprised by happiness first thing each day. And now you've started to smile and have the beginnings of a laugh- sort of an open mouth excited inhale. We love this laugh and have found it to be quite contagious.

It's been a really full eight weeks. Your dad and I took you for a picnic your fourth day of life and to church on your sixth. And then I started taking you on outings on my very own. The first was to your cousins Jack and Josie's middle school play. I was so cautious as I drove my most precious possession all the way to Apple Valley. And I was so excited to be out and about with you. I felt able and even a bit free. You and me, we made a good team and I was just beginning to realize how much more fun every part of life was going to become. I like running errands with you. I like loading you into the car and having a companion in the backseat to sing to.

Your dad has fully fallen for you. He's always plucking you out of my arms, wanting his turn. You give him the biggest smiles, and he knows it. You two stare at each other and smile and talk and grunt and clearly love each other’s company. In the mornings after you have a fully belly, your dad will take you into the living room and sit you in his arm while he reads the Bible. You're always so calm and quiet during this time of the day as you take in the sunlight on the ceiling and listen to your dad.

Your cry is still pretty quiet, but it is growing louder. You talk mostly in grunts and throaty swallow-sounds. You are super interested in ceiling fans and much to my surprise, your crib mobile. I had no idea that those mobiles were so practical. I actually thought they were more for decoration than anything, but you love it.

You are a sweet snuggler. When I put you on my shoulder to burp at night, you tuck your legs in as tight as you can and make a tiny little ball propped on my arm. I love this so much. And once the sun is up I'll sometimes bring you into our bed and sleep for our last bit with you breathing deep on my chest. There is absolutely no better feeling. It's my favorite thing in the world.

You love your paci, but we love your paci even more. It truly does pacify and I love how it helps you succumb to your sleepiness. You still wake up throughout the night about every three hours, but you're starting to stretch those hours a bit more now and we're thrilled at the thought of longer stretches of sleep.

You have changed our lives forever and all of the clichés are true. We’ve never been so in love. We can’t imagine life without you. .

We love you Ivar.

my boys

This was Ivar and Rory today before church. I am so glad I got this picture because I'm starting to notice a strong correlation between the cuteness of Ivar's clothes and blowout diapers and/or massive amounts of spit up. It seems the cuter the outfit, the faster he does something bodily that necessitates a costume change.

Today we lasted three minutes in church before I felt wetness on my leg...which was coming from the wetness on my son's back...which was coming from the wetness in his diaper. I wasn't at all put off by the mess we had on our hands, but I was so sorry he had to change out of his cute outfit before I could show him off!

vanity, vanity...

happy baby

merry christmas from Becca Groves on Vimeo.

Isn't it amazing to think that God came to us as a baby? I've been thinking about this so much this season, wondering what it must have been like for Jesus to suddenly be so dependent for all of his needs. He was God, after all, able to do all things. And then he came to earth to love and save the world, but born as baby who cried and ate and slept and smiled just like every other baby in the world.

My friend Shannon wrote in an email to me this week, "How amazing that a BABY born in the world and in us makes us open to life in a way that redeems us." I am feeling this amazement this year like never before.

I wish you the most joyous Christmas. I hope the birth of Jesus, God with us, overwhelms all of our hearts once again.

swedish sweaters

Ivar is named after his great grandpa. Grandpa Ivar, who we called Papa, could most often be seen wearing his Swedish sweaters. Even to a Pirate Birthday party as seen below:

I asked Rory's mom if she had anything special for little Ivar to wear for his Dedication, and the next morning she showed up with a Swedish sweater outfit from Hannah Anderson. This was the perfect outfit. It makes me sad that we'll never get a picture of the two Ivar's in their sweaters together. They would have liked each other so much.

When Ivar was still in my belly, I wrote our baby-to-be a long letter explaining the two names we had chosen and why we had chosen them. Here is part of that letter that explains why we chose our name for a baby boy:

Little baby,
It is early in the morning before the sun has come up, and I am wide awake wondering who you will be. We have two names picked out for you, and I’d be very surprised if we changed our minds. We have a strong girls name and a strong boys name and each one holds a lot of meaning for us. I want to tell you why.

If you are a boy, your name will be Ivar. This name is the name of your great grandpa on your dad’s side. Your great grandpa Ivar was a fantastic man of character, born to be a preacher. His speech had a particular cadence with his words chosen thoughtfully. He was a character in every imaginable way. His life stories seem epic now, hopping trains to get back and forth from Bible school, taking a ship over with his parents from Sweden as a boy, building churches in Ohio and Michigan.

We all called him Papa, and I have to tell you he welcomed me into the Groves family with arms wide open. That always meant so much to me. I knew he liked me from the start and I liked him right back. When your dad and I were first dating he was living in a senior home with a lot of Lutherans and Lutheran pastors. He paraded your dad around the dining hall table by table, introducing him and saying, “This is my grandson Rory. He is dating a Lutheran!” And he said it with enthusiasm, building a bridge to his friends at his home.

Little baby, your tiny little feet have some enormous footsteps to follow. The truth is, you could have been named after any of your great grandfathers or grandpas. You come from the strongest of men, filled with integrity and character. Each one has a life story that is filled with caring for others, determination, hard work and a belief in God that is so strong that it influences every single part of their daily life.

Your great grandpa Phil (grandma Margaret’s dad) was the hardest working man I have ever met. I remember being at his farm and getting so excited for Wheel of Fortune, because it was the only time the man sat still, so then the rest of us could rest, too. Great grandpa Phil could work nonstop doing physical things all day long. He was a successful farmer, raised seven kids and was active at his church his whole life.

Your great grandpa John (grandpa Paul’s dad) was a loyal worker to his company. He worked for the Burroughs Corporation, and I think that company had him move over a dozen times. He taught Sunday school most places where they moved and when he retired he kept using his skills and gifts to help raise money for the Lutheran Bible Institute.

Your great grandpa Madison (grandpa Madison’s dad) was an entrepreneur and a builder and he used his gifts to construct a home for orphaned children in Hot Springs, Arkansas. Your dad wishes so badly he could have known him more (he died when your dad was still very young) because it seems that your dad was given the same independence and self-confidence that his grandpa Madison had, born to create his own ventures.

And you, baby-to-be, could not be any more blessed than you are with your two Grandpa’s. Grandpa Paul and Grandpa Madison are both salt of the earth, and their deepest care is for other people. The church is the cornerstone of their lives, faithfully living out Jesus’ call to love one another and to share the good news. They love their families more than anything and are so excited for your arrival. In fact, your Grandpa Paul has already purchased his Grandparent’s Pass to the zoo, and you still have eight more weeks before you are due to arrive!

In all of your great grandfathers and grandpas there is a great sense of purpose for what they do and did with their time. What they believed in was the driving force behind their actions and ambitions.

Hear me on this. Whether you are born a girl or a boy, you will be given a family name, because we come from two families that have been blessed beyond measure. Your dad and I do not care what profession you choose. You could be a storyteller, a farmer, a preacher, a salesman, a fundraiser, an entrepreneur, an author, a contractor, or any other profession that fits your gifts. But we do care that you know your Maker. And whatever you do with your life, you live your life with as much passion and conviction and belief as the heritage of men and women who have gone before you. We care that you live your life boldly, make mistakes and move on, and that you are not afraid to live out the role God has custom created for you.

We love you more than I could have ever imagined love. Your dad talks to you every day and we are filled with wonder and awe thinking of how fearfully and wonderfully you are made.

We are so excited to be your mom and dad.