Temptations Only Mothers Know: Evening Plans....That You Ultimately Cancel

I'm exhausted at the end of the day.  All the bottom-wiping, dish-washing, food-preparing, making tears into laughter, and generally staying sane.  It wears me out.  And there are so many times where I'm like, "Oh yeah, I'm definitely going to do this thing that starts at 7:30.  I can leave as soon as hubby gets home, have a little time to myself, enjoy the company of other adults for once...  This will be GREAT!"

But then reality comes.  It's 6:30 and hubby is walking in the door and I'm ready to turn off.  I'm ready to pretend I have no children instead of four and I'm ready for a little "time out" of my own, in my own space, where no one can pull the belt loops on my pants so that they start falling down, or make a mess of a room in five minutes flat, or call to me crying from the bathroom because they peed in their pants just two inches from the toilet (this seems to be happening daily in our house).

In theory, I love hanging out with friends.  I love meeting new people.  I also love blogging.  And crafting.  And a slew of other really cool things.

But the first thing I really want to do when I am no longer fully responsible for my children?  Be ALONE.  I want to finish a coherent thought.  Think through a whole sentence from start to end without being interrupted.

So let me just take this opportunity to apologize if I have ever made evening plans with you and cancelled them.  I am tempted by the allure of adult freedom and conversation.  I am tempted to imagine all the fun I will have by escaping my house for just a few hours.  I am so tempted by these things that I make the plans.

But then I don't follow through.  I am the lame one making an excuse at the last minute.  I am at home realizing if I make the effort to go out, I will be all the more cranky when I get home because I will be doubly exhausted.  People think I'm an extrovert.  And don't get me wrong, I do love being with people.  But when it's the end of the day and I've been managing small humans for most of the time, it feels like putting on a show to keep friendly conversation.

Oh, and did you notice how this blog is a day late?  Just another plan I made that got left behind.  Like a pile of clothes discarded for a time when they're clean again, I just put all my "fun" things-to-do on a list that never stops growing.  Some days the laundry gets cleaned.  Just like some days I actually follow through.  But most days, the piles and lists are much bigger than what's actually done.  It's just reality.

I often tell myself that it's just a season of life.  And that's probably true.  It's also true that as I age, I am being more and more careful with my time.  It's full of the important things.  And the important things aren't always the "fun" things I used to fill my time with.  It's okay.  It's okay if I don't hang out with a group of people or make new friends.  The things that fill my life right now are wonderful.  It's work, for sure.  But it's the best kind of work that fills you with satisfaction and joy and a deep sense of goodness.  I'm blessed to be given such a job.

Temptations Only Mothers Know: Mama guilt/confusion/questioning/advice-seeking/controlling

Wordy title, right?  There's no easy way to trim down all that *stuff* that goes on inside the mama mind.  The angst. The guilt.  The confusion. The frustration. The attempts to control every situation and the advice we seek from others when we're not sure we're doing it just "right."

You can see the signs everywhere, "You're a good mom."  Every mom wants to hear it.  We want to know we're doing an okay job.

I know, it's getting heavy today.  No light-hearted Libby joking about velcro and elastics, or stuffing her face with chocolate.  I spent the better part of my day at a specialists office for my oldest son, and the more time that I spend thinking about "am I doing it right" with my son, the more frustrated I am with myself.

Do you know why?

It's not because those questions are bad to ask.  We should always be trying to better.  We should try hard to make wise decisions and serve our families.  But how many times are we looking around at others wondering how they see us?  How many times are we trying desperately to hold on to control to our lives and our parenting?  How many times are we asking advice just so we can say, "yep, I did that. I'm a good mom."

I am so tired of it.  I am worn out from trying to look like a good mom, and I'm tired of everyone else judging whether I am or not.  I don't even like that slogan "you're a good mom."  You can't even think it without comparing yourself to someone else.  You will NEVER be happy when you compare yourself to someone else.  Ever.

It is so tempting in our culture to control every thing we can.  We are so sure that parenting in ways A and B will lead to C behavior.  We are so sure, in fact, that we are quick to give advice even when others haven't asked for it, or they have asked advice from certain people and you're NOT those people (but you give your advice anyway because you're sure it will help).

Just stop.  Stop giving people advice when they don't ask.  How many times has unsolicited advice helped you in your parenting? I'm going to guess that more times than not it's put you on the defensive and it's pretty hard to listen when you've got your shield in front of your face ready for battle.

Just stop judging other parents and how they're doing it.  I know not all of you are Christians, but I firmly believe the Bible is true.  And you know what's pretty amazing?  God Himself walked around in the flesh telling people how to live righteous lives and He still found a way to do it with grace and mercy.  *You* can't dole out grace and mercy but the only person in the whole world who ever lived a perfect life can?

Stop comparing yourselves to others.  Stop feeling elated when your kid isn't tantruming in the store and you've done "such a great job" of being a parent.  Stop feeling totally down on yourself when your kid IS tantruming in the store and everyone is looking at you.  Guess what?  Your worth isn't in how your child behaves.  It isn't in how clean his face is or how well she did her homework.  First off, I'm here to tell you that your worth is in Christ and nothing you do makes Him love you more or less.

And secondly, the most wonderful way to parent is to work hard at it and make the best decisions you know how.  That's it.  It's really not complicated.  I know, it feels more complicated than that.  But it's really not.  Since we're so distracted by our joy-stealing, habit-forming temptations of guilt, questioning, controlling and advice-giving, here are some things to consider:

1) In that moment when you glance at another kid/mama and thinking to yourself "I would have....." or "oh boy, I wouldn't have....."  Just STOP.  Stop yourself in your tracks.  Look at your precious child and smile.  Consider all the wonders you've been blessed with and just leave it at that.  You're not making anyone's life better by comparing yourself to them.

2) When you're hanging out with friends and you see them do something you wouldn't, or you hear them struggling with a particular part of mommyhood, ask yourself these questions:
  - Is she actually asking for advice, or is she just bemoaning the fact that her child is having an off week and is screaming every day?
  - How would I feel in her shoes?
  - How can I best encourage her right now?
 If the answer to "how can I best encourage her right now" is telling her some great thing you found useful in your own parenting life, then by all means, share away!  Don't get me wrong, I love getting advice from other moms.  At the right time.  Seasoned with love.  Try not to go spouting off things as if you are Anonymous, The Internet Troll without any consideration for her.

3) Use that God-given mama instinct.  So many times in my seven years of being a mom, I wish I had let go of that anxiety-driven need for control and just listened to my instincts.  Don't try to follow the crowd just for the sake of following the crowd.  Cut a path for your family that blesses all of you.  Figure out what's best for YOUR family.  And once you've figured it out, go back to #1.


Now it's time to start using it.  Grace.  Mercy.  Kindness.  Temper all your parenting with it and I guarantee your whole family will benefit.  If you start clinging to control or wanting answers, check yourself.  Am I doing my best?  Am I working at it?  That's it.  Leave it at that.  You are NOT in control and you will never know everything.  Let's all start encouraging each other to do our best.  Let's gather around and lift each other up.

Temptations only Mothers Know: The after-the-kids-are-in-bed Dessert

Temptation #2 in the week-long series on Temptations Only Mothers Know:

The After-The-Kids-Are-In-Bed Dessert

It's 9:30 and all is quiet upstairs.  My 7 year old probably still has his nose in a book, but he won't be coming down again until morning.  It's the time of day that I can eat whatever I want and no one is watching.  For the first time.  All day.  There are occasions when I try to sneak something earlier in the day, but I inevitably get caught.  It seems that my kids are just as good at sniffing out a treat as I am at sniffing out a poopy diaper.  Unfortunately.

The problem is that when a person feels deprived, they often overindulge once they finally get that thing.  No?  Never happens to you?  You obviously have the whole "will power" thing down, then.  I can tell you are the spitting image of Frog from the short story "Cookies."  (Frog and Toad: Cookies)  We could all learn a lot from you, I'm sure.

The fact is that last night I was so stressed that I ate FOUR cookies. (Maybe it was all my angst at having let the washing machine run a load only 1/2 full since I didn't add the bucket of dirty towels and bibs? ;-)  )  I like to soothe my conscience by telling myself that the cookies were only half the normal size, so it was really like eating two cookies.  But, then, I like to follow that thought with the reminder that the REASON I made them half the normal size was so I would ultimately be eating less cookie.  Clearly, I am at war with myself.  But hey, I figure, as long as the pants fit, eat a cookie.  Tonight, I'll just try to eat one instead of four.

Temptations Only Mothers Know

In an effort to lighten my otherwise stressful week, I'd like to get back to blogging. Today, I introduce to you what I hope will be a week-long series I'd like to call:

TEMPTATIONS ONLY MOTHERS KNOW

Truthfully, these will most likely be temptations that only mothers of small children in America know, but hey--that title just seemed far too wordy.  "You get what you get and you don't get upset," as my son's kindergarten teacher used to say.  But, enough with the chit-chat.  Let's get down to business.

Temptation #1: Adding that bucket of dirty bibs to the washer load of underwear and socks.

Okay, this may be a temptation that only I struggle with.  I'm willing to guess it's not an across-the-board struggle of all American young moms, but it's definitely a struggle at my house.  Every. Single. Time. I put in a load of underwear and socks I want to dump in that bucket of dirty bibs and towels that have collected from the kitchen.  But you know what happens every. single. time. I give in?

Velcro.  Velcro happens.

Ever experienced velcro on elastic? No? You're not a mom with a small child in bibs, you say?  Lucky you, I say.

Bibs.  Such a love/hate relationship I have with these things.  Snaps you say, snaps! Yes, I know.... snaps don't get caught on everything and ruin your perfectly nice underwear.  Snaps make that wonderful little (you guessed it) SNAP sound when push them together and they are near impossible for the child to take off.  Snaps.  But of the approximately 40 bibs that we own, only about 3 have snaps.  Yes, I could make my own (in fact, I have an Etsy business where I do just that), but why make new bibs when you already HAVE 40 bibs?  I'm all about using what you have.  Even if I have material to make something new without buying it, WHY make something new?!  People are way too used to throwing out what they don't like and replacing it with something they'll only like a little more.  But let's not get off on a tangent here.  The point is, VELCRO.

I like to be as efficient as I can with laundry since there are six of us in this family. (And when one is potty training, isn't that more like three people??)  That means when a load of dirty things is going on the hot cycle and it's not full, my basic instinct is to add whatever else I can.  That bucket.... that bucket that I always keep in the kitchen to toss dirty bibs and towels and washclothes in... that bucket sitting there ready to be cleaned and put back in the cabinets....

Just. Say. No.

I learned that phrase in the D.A.R.E. program in elementary school, and yet it's still so applicable today.  Just say no.  Just don't do it.  You know what will happen.  All that nice velcro is going to fall in love with all that lovely elastic in the underwear and next thing you know you'll be spending twenty  minutes painstakingly pulling each "hook" of those doggone hook and loop closures off your once-unfrayed underwear.

Ladies and Gentleman, I want you to know that tonight I said no.  Tonight, I did not give in.  May there be many more nights like this one, for the sake of my will power and the longevity of our underwear.

FOE elastic baby rompers

After making a few PUL diaper covers a month or so ago, I realized that I hadn't been creative enough about my fold over elastic.  I had yards and yards of it sitting around waiting to be used for girls headbands.  The problem is that I have, for the most part, stopped making girls headbands.  When I made the diaper cover I realized what an awesome invention FOE was--think stretchy binding!  It's like the lazy-sewers way to finish an edge stitch and make it stretchy all at the same time.  It's amazing.  Truly amazing.

It was a great revelation at a great time, because I have found myself in need of more bottoms for my daughter.  She seems to have a wide array of tops, but no bottoms.  It's always great when you realize that you have all the pieces to make what you need already amongst your craft supplies.  I had this wonderful wide, soft, elastic that I had bought online for making cute skirts that I never got around to using.  I also have a lot of random fabric (including old jeans), and a ton of fold over elastic.  Voila!  The biggest problem was making up a pattern.  I probably could have found something online, but I didn't look... I used almost the entirety of one pair of old (hol-y) maternity jeans before finally giving up and just cutting material for a romper.  I made two, but then decided I'd try again for something more interesting and made some pants.   At least now I figured out what I'm doing, so the next ones won't be so hard. ;-)  

Making Monsters

Where has the time gone?  Three months since my last post?  It would seem that resolving to write posts more often doesn't necessarily result in more posts.  Go figure.

The kids and I were crafting some monsters today made from Costco pretzel containers.  I've been saving the containers in the hopes that I would envision some ingenious craft that would amaze everyone--including myself.  Sadly, that never happened.  So, why wait around filling your house with random pieces of potential-crafting items when you could simply use them for a sub-par crafting project that will not only expand the space in your home but somehow delight your children (despite its lack of amazingness)...?  Right.  That's what I thought.

So, here you have it.  Our monsters.  This could be a great Valentine's box.  Of course, Valentine's Day is five months away, and I'm not sure that these monsters will last one week let alone five months.  As it is, my kids just think it's great to fill them with toys they find.  For some reason this brings them great joy.  And that's wonderful.  Because, some of these crafting things have been sitting around for a year hoping to be used.  I would resolve to craft more often, but obviously we know what little comes of my resolutions.

To make:

plastic container

exacto knife (or scissors, or whatever you can cut the plastic with)

paint (I used acrylic)

cardboard for the feet

construction paper 

felt

ribbon (for bows)

yarn for hair (though I'm sure there are better ways to do their hair)

and...most important.... googly eyes!

The Mystery of the Cowlick

A snowy winter day

This morning we went out and got our customary milk and bread before the snow.  Well, we actually went out for a whole list of things, of which bread and milk were a part.  But it seemed fitting to mention we had gotten those typical staples, as a storm was indeed on the horizon.

It started snowing after lunch and has been snowing since.  I've tried to get outside as much as possible lately, but with the freezing weather, we never seem to be out more than half an hour tops.  It's made for mighty cabin fever around here.

I noticed the other day that we've accumulated a large array of plastic containers for storing left overs.  It seems that I've kept every useable container, and now my plastic drawer is overflowing.  We do recycle, and I could very well simply recycle many of these containers.  But, I thought--before we recycle them, maybe we can get a little crafting use out of them...

So, on this snowy day, we started with craft #1 using the plastic containers.

Hats.

And, since I am a big fan of Amazon.com, I have lots of cardboard to spare.  Making a hat didn't take any out-of-the-ordinary supplies at all.

Here's a preview of my first idea on how to use those left over containers :)  (Well, maybe I should call it my second?  Since I used one of them last year as the face of Thomas the Tank engine in my oldest son's Valentine box as shown here.)

Oh Dear What Can the Matter Be

My father recently started treatments for lung cancer, so I, along with my three small children, took the trek across three states to come help out.  I may be a bit hindered with all my groupies, but I can still be of some help in the midst of all that needs to be done.

I've been here almost a week and it seems like a whirlwind.  So much has been done.  So many things still on the to-do list.  Today, the exhaustion was catching up to me.  I decided to "take a break" and just stay at my mom's house with my three kids...

I was busy making knots for my pumpkin knot rolls (recipe), when I realized how very far removed the kitchen was from the various play-areas throughout the house.  I decided that if I were ever in the market for a new home, I would assuredly *not* get a set-up like this.  I mean, who knows what could happen while I'm in the kitchen and the children are elsewhere?

I am not lying when I tell you I had these thoughts.  You will think that I am when I tell you what happened next...

After such thoughts of my potentially-trouble-making children, I realized that they were indeed silent at that moment.  Silence, with kids the age of my children, is never a good sign.  I went in search of them and found my two older ones (ages 5 and 2), playing downtairs...laughing.  Hmph.  Not normal.  But, I was tired.  And in the middle of something. At that very moment, it seemed like a fine idea to leave them be.

About ten minutes later, they came running up, still chuckling to each other, and started running around.  Wow.  Seems like this day of rest must have been good for them too.  What a blessing.

Then my two year old daughter came up to my one year old son, grabbing his hair to a pair of scissors, and said, "I'm going to cut your hair!"  I wheeled around in a heartbeat and said, "noooooooo way!  We never cut our brother's hair!"

Shocked, my daughter looked at me, let go of her brother's hair, and quickly threw the scissors to the floor.  But there was something wrong.  Something very wrong.  With HER hair.

Yesterday, my daughter looked like this:

Adorable, right?  I know.  Sometimes  I just look at her and think about how absolutely adorable she is.  Especially those eyes....and that hair...!  Oh, what wonderful hair.

Yesterday her hair was beautiful.  Today, her older brother took her to the salon.  And I only wish I could glue this back on without anyone knowing any different....

I think I'm in mourning.  My adorable daughter is no longer so adorable.  I'm wondering if there's any way I can get her to wear a hat for the next four months until the hair at the top of her head grows back.  This is going to take a considerable amount of creativity.  And you can bet I won't be sleeping much tonight--I'll be too busy hoping when I wake up, this was all just a bad dream.

Sleep Eating

It's about time for a funny post!  

My youngest son went for his 15 month check up a few weeks ago.  We were at the doctor's office for hours, and everyone came home exhausted.  I knew my son was tired, but  I figured he must be hungry too.  I thought it'd probably be a good idea to feed him at least a little something before taking him up to his crib.  I put a blueberry-banana muffin on his tray.

He grabbed the muffin.

Squished it in his face, double-handed.

And then.....

fell asleep.

With hands, and muffin, still pressed against his face.


But the best part?  It's like he was dreaming of eating.... so he was still chomping down on his muffin while thoroughly asleep!  You could even see his eyes moving as if he's in REM sleep!





It was hilarious.  I stood there for a minute just laughing.  And then I did the only thing a parent can do in these types of situations... I got out the camera.

On Loss

If you are squeamish or generally uninterested in reading about the personal and medical matters of another's life, you best stop here.  I have plenty of other interesting, not-so-personal posts that will mostly likely suit you.  But today, I'm getting a little deep....

This was a hard week for me.  A week of confusion, uncertainty, disappointment, and ultimately loss.  My husband and I have three beautiful, young children, and at this time last week, I was pregnant with number four.  At least, I thought I was pregnant with number four.  I could hardly believe that I had kept the secret so long, since I have such a *huge* mouth.  Anyone who knows me well knows that I talk about anything with anyone.  So the fact that I was 10+ weeks along and hadn't told more than a handful of people was quite an accomplishment.  I couldn't wait to see my family in a few weeks and tell them the news--they'd be shocked that I was almost three months along and they hadn't even known!!

But then there was spotting.... and then a doctor's appointment without hearing any baby heartbeat... and then an ultrasound with only a six week sac... and then blood levels that showed my pregnancy hormones dropping... Days later the actual process of miscarrying begun, and the blood flow and pain was more than I ever anticipated.  As if knowing you lost your precious baby wasn't bad enough, then you had to actually get all of that nonviable pregnancy out of your body--not an easy thing to do, especially at 11 weeks along.  My heart breaks even more now to think of women who are even in their second and third trimester and lose their babies.  I think I'd probably become a hermit for a *long* while until I could deal with all that pain and loss.

"Blighted Ovum"--first time I heard the phrase and it's certainly taken over my week.  There was an afternoon and evening where there was still hope it wasn't a blighted ovum, just that I was much further behind in my pregnancy than expected.  But blood tests the next day confirmed it.  So many emotions.  So much confusion.  I thought I was going to be okay with it, but then the actual process started to happen.  Back at the hospital, I decided this wasn't so easy after all.

I will always remember this week.  And I am so thankful for my friends who have been there when I needed them--to listen to my heartache, to take my kids at a moments notice, and to bring me dinner when I could hardly stand up.  In this time, I am finding hope in a God who is good, who has planned good for me since the beginning of time, and in whom I can always put my trust.  May this Scripture give you encouragement in whatever trials you face, just as it has brought me encouragement in mine.

Isaiah 55

“Come, all you who are thirsty,
    come to the waters;
and you who have no money,
    come, buy and eat!
Come, buy wine and milk
    without money and without cost.
² Why spend money on what is not bread,
    and your labor on what does not satisfy?
Listen, listen to me, and eat what is good,
    and you will delight in the richest of fare.
³ Give ear and come to me;
    listen, that you may live.
I will make an everlasting covenant with you,
    my faithful love promised to David.
⁴ See, I have made him a witness to the peoples,
    a ruler and commander of the peoples.
⁵ Surely you will summon nations you know not,
    and nations you do not know will come running to you,
because of the Lord your God,
    the Holy One of Israel,
    for he has endowed you with splendor.”

⁶ Seek the Lord while he may be found;
    call on him while he is near.
⁷ Let the wicked forsake their ways
    and the unrighteous their thoughts.
Let them turn to the Lord, and he will have mercy on them,
    and to our God, for he will freely pardon.

⁸ “For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
    neither are your ways my ways,”
declares the Lord.
⁹ “As the heavens are higher than the earth,
    so are my ways higher than your ways
    and my thoughts than your thoughts.
¹⁰ As the rain and the snow
    come down from heaven,
and do not return to it
    without watering the earth
and making it bud and flourish,
    so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater,
¹¹ so is my word that goes out from my mouth:
    It will not return to me empty,
but will accomplish what I desire
    and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.
¹² You will go out in joy
    and be led forth in peace;
the mountains and hills
    will burst into song before you,
and all the trees of the field
    will clap their hands.
¹³ Instead of the thornbush will grow the juniper,
    and instead of briers the myrtle will grow.
This will be for the Lord’s renown,
    for an everlasting sign,
    that will endure forever.”

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A Fun Project

My four year old begs almost daily to do a new craft--a new craft that's "different" and more "exciting" than we've ever done before.  This is not only a difficult request, but truthfully becoming an increasingly annoying one.  While my head is swimming with all the things I have to get done, the pressure from a four year old to come up with an amazingly creative craft, is simply irksome.  As much as I try to dissuade him from crafting, he will not have it.

Thankfully, we recently read this book: http://www.amazon.com/Welcome-Home-Mouse-Elisa-Kleven/dp/1582462771/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1344993482&sr=1-2&keywords=a+home+for+mouse

It's an adorable book--both in content and artistry.  My children had me read it again and again until finally it was due back to the library.  In the book, the clumsy elephant creates a beautiful replacement home (since he accidentally ruins the first) for his new friend mouse.  The house in the story was what we might think of as a diorama, made with a box and other small random objects.  Thankfully, this book gave me an easy idea for craft time....

I was so appreciative of the hour or more I got to spend doing the dishes in quiet...while my son tirelessly worked on making this house a home.  We had even made popsicle stick people the day before (another days craft that I had to come up with...), so the house even had inhabitants upon its completion.

So, there it is, a nice new house....  would you want to live there?

The Chase

My 10 month old son recently realized he could reach the fruit bowl.  This has been a wonderful discovery, for both him and me.  He enjoys stealing apples.  I enjoy watching his mischievousness.  Sure, when he's a little older, I won't be as happy to watch him get into trouble.  But for now, while he's so doggone cute, and merely stealing apples, I will revel in this innocent test of ability.

In his theft, one apple never seems enough.  He gets one, but then after a few bites seem to want a greater challenge.  At that point, apple in hand, he tries to pull himself up to get another.  This is more difficult than one might realize, since getting to the fruit bowl a second time with one hand full of apple is a serious feat.  He can't yet stand on is own, so he needs those hands to help pull himself up.  Yesterday, he was successful in his attempt.  

However, procuring two apples is one challenge--keeping them both nearby is another.  

Just thought you might enjoy seeing a little of this game in action....and hearing big sister (2 years old)  trying to help in the event. :)

Overcome With Fear

It was already 86 degrees as I pulled out of the driveway, ready for the adventure ahead.  My hope was to hit five stores before my youngest two would need their afternoon naps.  Of course, none of the stores were nearby, so first we had to drive the 45 minutes to get there.  

I felt like supermom as a stood in line at Sam's Club for my receipt to be checked--four stores down and only one quick stop to go.  In fact, this stop was on the way home, so it almost felt like we were done for the day.  And it was not yet 2; we were doing great on time!  My two oldest children were happily slurping their quickly melting vanilla ice creams (as, by then, the temperature was up to 95) and I was feeling uber accomplished.  At the last stop, things went even better than expected and I hopped into the car delighted, but by now, equally exhausted.  As we headed out of this neighboring town to finally trek home, my 4 year old son and I noticed some ominous weather approaching.  It was about time we got some rain, I thought.

Rain indeed.  And thunder.  And lightning.  And worst of all, wind.

When we first moved to Indiana, my oldest was intrigued by the tornado siren.  We had moved from Boston, so he was very familiar with loud noises--people, traffic, subways and emergency vehicles.  But this siren was something "other", and he very much wanted to understand it.  My son has a wondering mind like his father's, and so he wouldn't let it rest until he could understand the concept of a tornado.  My explanations insufficient, we finally went to YouTube.  This was my undoing.  Since then, over a year ago, my son has been deathly afraid of tornadoes.  At the sound of the tornado siren, even simply on days when they are just testing the alarm, he goes into mass hysterics.  He insists that we all run to the basement (which, by the way, is ill fit for general habitation, as it is crawling with bugs and walls covered in webs), and hide there until the danger has passed.  Many times it takes me a quarter of an hour just to calm him down and help him see that it was simply a test, and that with a clear blue sky, there certainly would not be a tornado.

It's one thing to calm him down when the sky is a beautiful shade of blue; it's another to calm him down when we are in the heart of the storm, protected only by the walls of our Toyota Rav4.  Suddenly, my ability to control the car was coming into question, just as I saw huge swirls of dust and gravel flying from a nearby driveway.  The rain had gone from a plop to a torrent in all of one minute and the wind was moving nearby trees as if it was just doing a simple test of the durability of their root systems.  I was afraid.  It's overwhelming to be afraid when your four year old is already terrified.  Three rows back he was screaming as if his life depended on it--"WILL WE BE SAFE?!  IS IT A TORNADO?!  ARE WE OKAY?!  WILL WE BE SAFE?!"  His siblings were crying too, probably more because of the horrified shrieks of their brother than anything else.  I was exhausted.  I had gone from a wonderful supermom high to a terrified low too quickly to deal with my emotions.  I, too, started crying.  But as the car was pushed one way and then the other by the wind, I straightened up and pushed that fear down.  We needed to get home.  Now.  And there was only one thing for it: pray.  Over and over again  when my son yelled to me at night because he was afraid of the dark, I'd go to his room and tell him, "Be strong, and of good courage, for the Lord your God is with you WHEREVER you go."  (paraphrase Joshua 1:9)  I even made him a bracelet to wear at night that says, "God is always with me."

That was it.  That's what we had to do.  So, over the top of my screaming and crying children, I started to pray.  And I just kept praying.  Strong and fast, my voice cried to the Father for protection and comfort in the storm.  My son yelled, "Will it work?!  Will that keep us safe?!  Will God keep us safe?!"  I just kept praying.  I didn't even stop to answer him.  But soon, he grew quiet.  In fact, I realized, all the kids were quiet.  There were only the sounds of the raging storm and my voice, almost like we were battling for a victory.  If indeed it was a battle, I knew that I wanted to win.  So, I kept praying, loud and continuos, giving thanks for every new road we reached on our way home.  We were almost home when I started to feel a sense of relief, that we had made it.  That feeling quickly dissipated as we met one huge tree across the road, and then another.  For a moment I wondered if we had gotten so close, only to find that every road to our house was blocked.  On went the prayer until finally, finally, 

we pulled into our driveway.  My son screamed, "Get me out! Get me inside!"  As quickly as I could, I rushed him inside.  Then back again for the next kid.  And then once more.  At last, we were all inside.

I wanted to slump on the floor in relief, snuggling my children and thanking our Lord.  My four year old, though, had different thoughts.  To him, we may have been home, but we weren't out of danger.  He was shocked that I took off my wet sandals.  And even more surprised to hear me say that I was going to put his younger sister in bed, upstairs, for a nap.  "But how will you get her in time if there's a tornado?  And how will you put your shoes on in time?  There won't be enough time mom!!  We have to go downstairs NOW!"  Much to his terror, I disregarded his concerns and carried his sister upstairs.  I just wanted a chance to breathe.

I was so thankful to see a glimmer of light through the window as I came back downstairs.  Quickly, I rushed my son to the window--See that?  See that?!  It's light!  The light is coming!  The storm is over!  You do not have to be afraid anymore!

It took some persuading, but I could see his face finally hint at a smile.  At last.  The calm. 

We took a walk in the evening to see the damage that had been done.  One of the trees that had fallen across the road had in fact broken through the fence below it, and even cracked the sidewalk.  As I looked at the debris, I thanked God again, that He kept us safe and brought us home.

The Logic of a Man

Oh my...how differently we think, men and women....

We have been trying to get our three-year-old out of diapers at night the last week or so.  This entails keeping him in underwear for bedtime and then making sure he goes to the bathroom as often as needed before he <<finally>> falls asleep.  My husband has also been waking our son to take him to the bathroom around midnight, when we're going to bed ourselves.

Last night I was exhausted and headed to be earlier than my husband.  I was fast asleep when he came to take our son to the bathroom, and so I was unavailable to take part in the decision-making.  This fact is important only because there were decisions to be made.  Our son had already peed in his bed.

Now, if I had been awake, my own logical response would have been to change the sheets.  We have two sets for that very reason.  Take one off, replace it with another, and then put the sleepy child back where he belongs.

Of course, I was not awake, and so my husband was left to do the responding.  His own logical mind had another solution: just put the boy on a dry spot on the bed.  This, however, was difficult, since most of the bed was wet with pee.  The top portion, where ones head usually lays, was dry.  So, he placed my son vertically on the bed, curled up, since he obviously was too large to stretch out on such a small space.

In the morning, I wondered if our son was in bed at all.  I only saw a bunch of sheets stuffed by the wall at the top of the bed; the rest of the bed was completely empty.  Where on Earth was our child?  No, my husband assured me, our son was not missing. He was merely on the dry spot of the bed.

Right.  And to him that made sense.

Message Transmission

Just the other day I was walking down my street with the kids, and we were about ten feet away from a four-way intersection.  A red car, presumably driven by one of the local college students, was coming up to the intersection as well.  The driver, a young woman, put on her left turn signal, and slowed down just enough to make the turn without squealing the tires.

As a mother, my temper boiled.  My three year-old son was walking beside me and usually runs right up to the intersection, if not directly into it.  And while the stop signs are not there solely for my child's safety, they do help keep him out of harm's way when car and pedestrian approach the intersection at the same time.  This, of course, only works when the driver actually stops like the sign commands.

Thankfully, my son didn't run towards the intersection that time, and we were all kept scotch-free.  As she was speeding away, I mentioned to my son that some people obviously couldn't read English, and that some people simply don't understand how to stop their cars.  (To which he replied, "Do I know English?")

It just so happened that the full-speed driver was headed to the same place we were.  We were off to the college mail room to send a package, and just as we got there, she was on her way out the door.

It's times like these that I think of a parent's ability to send and receive messages through our children....  I was very tempted to say to my son, "yes, some people don't know how to stop at stop signs."  This message would then get relayed to the non-law-abiding driver as we walked passed her on our way inside the mail room.  At his age, my son does not simply listen to what I tell him, but he often repeats it.  And, he is also apt to stare at people walking by us.  So, based on the knowledge that I have of my son's habits, I was sure that with a well-timed comment to him about bad driver's, he could transfer the message directly to the person who recently almost ran us over.

And I was sure she'd get the point.

But, instead I just mumbled my frustrated thoughts as my son repeated over and over, "What? What did you say mom??"  Finally I told him what I had said, and, as expected, he loudly repeated my comment.  Crazy driver was out of ear-shot by that point.  I did still gain some sense of satisfaction at the thought of her going red at my son's comments about her bad driving....even if it was only in my imagination.

Maybe if we're lucky, she felt some sense of guilt at just seeing us there at the mailroom--perhaps a reminder that we were still alive, no thanks to her...

Kisses that Heal

I don't remember ever telling my son that a kiss would heal his pain.  I know that at times, when he's crying after a tumble or because of a small cut, I have offered him a kiss.  I never thought of the kiss as a band-aid, only as a reminder that I love him and that I'm here to offer him comfort whenever he needs it.

Yesterday, I mentioned to my son that I was feeling sick.  "It's okay," he told me.  "It's okay mommy.  Don't worry."  Then he turned and kissed me two times.  "It's okay mommy.  Now you're feeling better."  I couldn't help but chuckle to myself.  I'm feeling better, am I?  That was a quick and easy remedy.  If only it were that simple.  It made me wonder as to where in the world he got this idea--that kisses had some kind of magical healing powers.  Certainly, he must be aware that when I kiss him, the pain doesn't go away.

So I walked away smiling at the wonder of children, at how their small minds process things like kisses and healing.  But the more I thought of it, the more I thought that my son was kind of right.  Kisses may not be able to heal the physical aspects of my sickness, but what does it do to the emotional aspects of my sickness?  When I'm sick, I'm often tired, impatient, annoyed and miserable.  What can a kiss do to those feelings?   I imagine you know the answer to that question.  When my son gave me two kisses, I feel a little less tired, impatient, annoyed and miserable.  And while I was still coughing and pulling tissue after tissue out of the box, my heart was a little lighter.

I know that in my own life, I seek out comfort when I'm in pain.  When I was in labor for both of my children, I had no delusions that my husband would ease my burden.  Yet, having him there was an emotional comfort that I couldn't do without.

I'm realizing now that my son's way of thinking about a kiss isn't that far gone from the reality.  Sometimes being comforted in our pain is just as important as the release from the pain itself.

To Sleep

"In the bleak midwinter, frosty winds made moan...."  So has my three year old, ailing with a runny nose and itchy, gooey eyes.  Anguish has come upon this house, weeping and gnashing of teeth.   (Him weeping, me biting my nails because I can't handle the stress of the constant high-pitched whine sounding throughout the day and night.)  Every ten minutes in the night comes a plea for help and comfort, a plea that, at times, I long to ignore.  Oh to replace the chill of the cold air and the wetness of a snotty nose for the serenity of warm flannel sheets and a down comforter, guiding me to a night full of dreamful bliss.  If only one sweet song or one loving kiss was enough to quell the pain and sorrow of a small child in the midst of an internal battle.  If only I could send in my own troops to vanquish the enemy, or at least, to remove the voice box of the despondent so that even one of us could get sleep.  So little sympathy you say?  And yet in a battle, does not one soldier rest while the other keeps guard, so that not everyone will be too exhausted for the war?  Think of the benefits of a well-rested mother!

Hopefully this war will not rage much longer, because my energy is dwindling with every passing hour.  Oh germs, have mercy!  Have mercy on a weary mother!  For with one wailing child, always comes another.  How tired my arms are from carrying one needy child all day while attempting to nurse another.  Let darkness come over this night that we would not wake but for morning light.  Let us wake with renewed energy, and opened sinuses for all.