The 2009 Flanders Family Update

Doug surprised us on January 1st by tearing up his standard list of resolutions—to exercise more and to give up all things fried or caffeinated—in order to focus his full attention on a single goal this year: WRITE THE BOOK!
He asked Jennifer to make a “Write the Book!” sign for the bulletin board in his closet, but she went the extra mile and also printed “Write the Book!” labels to stick on his phones and beeper, laminated “Write the Book!” cards to post near sinks and showers, and even painted “Write the Book!” on our bedroom ceiling using invisible, glow-in-the-dark paint. The extra encouragement seemed to work, and Doug churned out pages left and right. When he started grinding his teeth by night and grumping at the kids by day, however, Jennifer feared she’d gone too far. Happily, equilibrium was restored once she washed “Write the Book!” off all our message boards, stopped tucking “Write the Book!” reminders into the pockets of his scrubs, and left off penning “Write the Book!” on every tenth sheet of toilet paper.
Less stressed, Doug progressed at a slower but steady and sustainable clip, with plenty of time left over to relax and spend with the family, including a second grandson, Sawyer Ethan, whom Matti delivered December 29 at a whopping 9 lbs 10 oz—the sweetest little thumb-sucker you could ever hope to meet.


David turned seventeen in February and bought his first pair of Five Fingers, thus taking his father’s penchant for funky footwear to a whole new level (and beginning a new family trend). Six foot six-and-a-half inches, he still enjoys competing in triathlon and spent the summer training his little sisters to do the same. After finding a widget for his Mac that allows him to scan barcodes, he used it to catalogue our entire home library—all 3922 volumes, not including duplicates. When Benjamin heard the final count, he observed, “Wow! Just eighty-eight more books, and we’d have an even four thousand.” “You mean seventy-eight, don’t you, Son?” Dad corrected, “We only need seventy-eight more books to make four thousand.”
Our quick-witted Ben never missed a beat, “Well, I was trying to say that with eighty-eight more books we’d have an even four thousand ten, but you cut me off before I could finish.”

We tackled our biggest spring project yet in March. After getting an unbelievably low quote from a local nursery on buying St. Augustine sod in bulk, Doug decided to grass in almost every square inch of our land. He bought seven dump truckloads of topsoil, compost, and hardwood mulch, which the big boys worked into the ground using a rented rototiller and a front end loader.
Meanwhile, Jennifer took a can of orange spray paint and marked borders for a dozen new flower beds in the shadiest areas of the yard, which our little ones then carefully outlined with three tons of river rocks. Everybody helped with the grass. We finished laying forty of the forty-four pallets we purchased before the nursery owner realized he had miscalculated. He called Doug in a panic to explain that instead of making thirty dollars per pallet as he’d intended, he was actually losing thirty! Doug assured him that it was not our intention to rob anybody, and that a good name is more important to us than a good deal. They renegotiated, and Doug wrote him a check the same day to cover his loss and give him a modest profit. The man was so grateful that he offered us—at cost—as many shrubs and ferns as we could use. Between those and the bulbs and perennials in our front beds that needed dividing, plus miscellaneous culls from friends, our back beds took shape in short order. In the end, we were glad about the mix-up.
We would likely have decided against undertaking such an ambitious landscaping project had we known upfront how much it would really cost, but we’ve thoroughly enjoyed the finished results, which turned out even more beautiful than we’d imagined.


A cough Daniel developed in mid-February had turned into pneumonia by April. Two rounds of antibiotics cleared his lungs, but still the cough persisted. We spent the following seven months consulting specialists (ENT, allergist, pediatric pulmonologist), tweaking his diet (no more dairy), X-raying his lungs (healthy), scoping his sinuses (slightly enlarged adenoids), and screening for swine flu, strep, and TB (all negative).
By the end of the summer, his prescribed daily meds had multiplied to fill an entire shelf of our bathroom cabinet. Fortunately, he was good about taking all of them. In fact, Daniel’s a cooperative little patient, in general. When one physician asked Doug whether Daniel would need to be sedated for a CAT scan he’d ordered, Doug answered, “Not this kid. This kid is great. He won’t give you a bit of trouble, will you, Daniel?” Daniel solemnly shook his head. True to his word, he lay unflinchingly still for the scan, belly down with his chin propped on a pillow, never even batting an eyelash. The techs were amazed and wanted to know Dad’s secret. “No secret,” Doug shrugged, “he’s just a really sweet boy, aren’t you, Daniel?” Daniel just smiled.





July was filled with typical summer fare—story times at the public library, trips to area museums, blueberry picking, CLEP prep, and lots of pleasure reading. Mom insisted that anyone too old for naps must read quietly for an hour each afternoon while babies slept. Most of our kids counted the minutes until they were free to go back outdoors and play, but Rachel would often stay in the library until dinnertime, soaking up chapter after chapter. Samuel, too, spent much of the summer with his nose in a book. Although he has traditionally preferred to read science and history, when he missed passing his College Composition CLEP by two points last January because he ran out of time on the reading comprehension portion, Doug prescribed a steady diet of fiction to increase his speed. He knew what Sam needed most was to get so drawn into a book that he couldn’t put it down, something not likely to happen with all the non-fiction he’d been reading. Doug assigned the first few titles himself—a little Louis L’Amour followed by some Lloyd Alexander—after which Samuel was allowed to pick his own.
The strategy worked. When he retook the CLEP (after the requisite six month waiting period and with no further study), Sam passed with flying colors, scoring a full 12 points higher than on his first attempt. In the interim, he developed a deeper appreciation for the valuable lessons to be learned through narrative storytelling—even Jesus knew that well-spun tales about a good Samaritan, a house on the rock, or an ungrateful slave would resonate with His listeners and stick with them far longer than simple admonitions to show compassion, make wise choices, or forgive offenders.







That brings us back to December: Little Gabbers turns two this month, can you believe it? He got his first goose egg a few weeks ago after toppling out of his sister’s bedroom window and smacking his head on the bricks below. Ouch! The little monkey mimics everything he sees now. We made the mistake of letting him watch the Evian roller-baby commercial on YouTube this fall, and he’s been trying to break-dance ever since. He also loves to imitate his mama’s singing and can match pitch pretty accurately, provided she hums only two or three notes at a time. Staying in tune for those longer hymns at church is more of a challenge, but he gives it his best effort: Gabriel’s joyful noise can be heard over the entire congregation during Sunday morning worship services. As we celebrate the birth of our Savior, we hope a song of praise to God and gratitude for His provision will be on your lips, as well. May the risen Lord Jesus be exalted in all our hearts and homes this holiday season and throughout the coming New Year. We wish you a Merry Christmas. Let us hear from you soon!
and where do we buy these ‘books’ ? I’m curious to read the one about the spy…
Hi, Brian. The spy novel is called The Prodigy Project and is available in print or digital versions through Amazon, Barnes & Nobles, and many other fine booksellers. Thanks for your interest!