I'm hanging out with my friend Dana in Missouri. Her, her hubby and me... and 8 children between the two of us. She just delivered her 5th child. She now has 5 boys! Our children are buddies and we enjoy many a good conversations together. But I don't think she would be offended with me saying my heart is not content. In fact, it aches. Something is missing.
Somewhere northeast of here a really cute guy holds my affections. I miss him terribly. He is my groom and I his bride. I give up any misconceived feminist notions of independence and admit I am not the same without him. I was one before we met over 10 years ago and now I am something else. I am 1/2.
It doesn't make mathematical sense. I am less than I was before and yet I am more. I gave up much and yet I have, abundantly. I willingly submit to him (well...) and I couldn't be more free.
What is it that makes me this crazy? It is a husband who has vowed, by the grace of God, to love me as Christ loved the church. He is my husband and the father of our children. He protects us. He keeps his children's eyes from danger and their ears from the hypnotic call of the world the flesh and the devil, and fills their ears with the music of the Word and their eyes he points upward. He guards us with his meditation, prayer, study and knowledge through his own submission to the One he has vowed to imitate, Christ Jesus. He gives himself up as a sacrifice through his willingness to give anything for us and lives it out daily through his acts of service (cause there aint nothing more beautiful then a man with dish soap on his hands!). He makes me want to be a better Christian, a better wife, a better mother.
He loves me and I love him. And together we are one! But right now he is far away and I'm feeling awfully half-ish today.
From the overflow of my heart...
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Thursday, March 24, 2011
We Hold These Truths To Be Self Evident....
That all one year old's are mischievous...
That all one year old's are simultaneously adorable...
And that all slotted spatulas can never be completely cleaned when they have been used for eggs. No matter how many times you wash them...
They will dry and the egg will re-appear... I think it's messing with me.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Sorry You're Sick Grandma...
Here's a little something to cheer you up (She actually has an Easter book opened to the song, "Jesus Loves Me.")
Sunday, March 20, 2011
I Love the Way You Sin
It's the way they manipulate us. It's the way they sass. It's the way they stick it to someone. It's the way they imitate us and we love it. It even makes us proud. I hate that I love when they outwit me in defiance. I hate that I love the way my children sin.
They say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery and I don't believe this stops with our honor and integrity. We love when people are like us even if our similarities have to do with our struggles and our sins. I see this in certain friendships, in the shows I watch on TV and most telling, in the way I raise my children.
This side of eternity, our flesh constantly struggles with sin. At it's root, it's the desire to be our own god. And what do little gods want most, little creations that are made in their likeness. So we even delight in their defiant likeness.
As Christians, we are justified. We are redeemed through Christ. We are saints. We attempt to imitate our heavenly Father and our desire is that our imitation would be mirrored in our children. But we are broken mirrors and we must humbly rely on God's grace. My prayer is that God would use my feeble efforts so that by His grace, my children would grow in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. My prayer is that I would not pass on a recycled sin but teach them to confess their sins and look to Christ for their forgiveness.
Christ have mercy.
They say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery and I don't believe this stops with our honor and integrity. We love when people are like us even if our similarities have to do with our struggles and our sins. I see this in certain friendships, in the shows I watch on TV and most telling, in the way I raise my children.
This side of eternity, our flesh constantly struggles with sin. At it's root, it's the desire to be our own god. And what do little gods want most, little creations that are made in their likeness. So we even delight in their defiant likeness.
As Christians, we are justified. We are redeemed through Christ. We are saints. We attempt to imitate our heavenly Father and our desire is that our imitation would be mirrored in our children. But we are broken mirrors and we must humbly rely on God's grace. My prayer is that God would use my feeble efforts so that by His grace, my children would grow in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. My prayer is that I would not pass on a recycled sin but teach them to confess their sins and look to Christ for their forgiveness.
Christ have mercy.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Time Change(d)
I hate spring forward. I hate fall back. I used to love the one where you got to sleep in later. Then I had children... They never got the memo. That is all.
Friday, March 11, 2011
When Your Son Punches the Dentist
I have hesitated in writing on a particular incident that happened last month due to my continued state of shock and mortification. However, so as to remind my readers that we are all sinners (thumbs pointed inward and tapping chest) and that we produce beautiful blessings who are sinners from conception, I feel my honesty and hindsight on the "situation" will prove beneficial and keep me humble.
Blah, blah, blah, moving on. So, my son hates the dentist. I can't say I blame him. The mere reminder that an appointment is in the near future sends him on a downward spiral of complete emotional breakdown. Ethan is 5 1/2. Ethan still sucks on his fingers. We have tried many things to get him to stop but alas, they have all proven futile. The dentist informed me that Ethan has loose teeth that will come out soon (yeah, milestone!). He fears that if Ethan continues to suck on his fingers he will ruin his permanent teeth so he recommended getting a brace placed in his mouth to stop the finger sucking. It's 100% successful.
Knowing my son's fear of the dentist, I decided to "prep" him. We had the following conversation on the way to the dentist:
Me: Ethan, sometimes I feel sorry for the dentist.
Ethan: Why?
Me: Because all he wants to do is help kids have good, clean teeth and all he gets is screaming and crying all day and I just feel bad for him (a good dose of manipulation coupled with thinking outside oneself).
Ethan: Well, I don't hate the dentist. I just hate going to the dentist (Successful separation!)
Me: Yeah, I understand that. But it's just one of those things we have to do in life (I will spare you the part of the conversation where I thought it wise to explain to my son how adults have to do taxes, only to be bombarded with the "why" bomb 7,200 times).
Ethan: Mom, you know when I was crying in the dentist chair last week?
Me: Yeah
Ethan: Did you feel bad for me?
Me: Yes, of course.
Ethan: Who did you feel badder for, me or the dentist? (BACKFIRE! Darn kids too smart for his own good)
Me: Well, you of course. You're my son. Listen, let's get through this today and mommy will by you an ice-cream cone from McDonald's afterward (and to top it off, a little bribery).
Fast-forward to the dentist office. Ethan is sitting in the corner of the room refusing to get on the dentist chair. I use my "Love and Logic" skills (great book) and give him a choice, "Ethan, you can get in the chair all by yourself or I can help you." He slowly moves toward the chair and climbs up on it. The assistance give me three cheers for good parenting and I too give myself a pat on the back. The dentist enters the room and starts to look in Ethan's mouth. Ethan starts to resist and things are getting harder. "Ethan, this is making everything take a really long time and I don't like to see you suffer. If you let the dentist do his job and you sit there quietly, we can get out of here quicker. So, do you want to sit there for a long time or a little bit?" Ethan quiets down and the dentist gives me his nod of approval. I'm not gonna lie, I'm pretty much feeling like mom of the year at this point. Dentist and assistant are impressed by my mad skills and son seems to be reluctantly complying. Pride cometh before the fall...
It was time for the spacers. I tried and tried to use my newly acquired parenting skills on Ethan but a funny thing about fear, when someone is truly fearful that another is about to harm them, they throw logic out the window. I was left with no choice but to hold Ethan down. He screamed bloody murder and fought me with all his strength (seriously, the boy is strong). The dentist took a break in between teeth and I wanted to give Ethan a break too. "Ethan, I'm going to let you go, okay?" He nodded in agreement. I slowly released him. He sat up quickly, turned toward the dentist and socked him right in the gut. Yep, you heard it right, my son punched the dentist. There are certain times in life as a parent when you are quick to react and you don't care who is watching you. Like when your child is running toward the street and you let out one of those crazy mama war cries that scares the life out of your kid and all bystanders. This was one of those moments. I grabbed Ethan by the mouth (I think I actually picked him up by the mouth) and moved his face to my face so that we were eye to eye and said in my most stern of mommy voices, "You do NOT punch the dentist!" I think he got the message. Needless to say, we did not go to McDonald's. Lots of lessons learned that day for momma and boy. Yep, lots of lessons learned.
Blah, blah, blah, moving on. So, my son hates the dentist. I can't say I blame him. The mere reminder that an appointment is in the near future sends him on a downward spiral of complete emotional breakdown. Ethan is 5 1/2. Ethan still sucks on his fingers. We have tried many things to get him to stop but alas, they have all proven futile. The dentist informed me that Ethan has loose teeth that will come out soon (yeah, milestone!). He fears that if Ethan continues to suck on his fingers he will ruin his permanent teeth so he recommended getting a brace placed in his mouth to stop the finger sucking. It's 100% successful.
Knowing my son's fear of the dentist, I decided to "prep" him. We had the following conversation on the way to the dentist:
Me: Ethan, sometimes I feel sorry for the dentist.
Ethan: Why?
Me: Because all he wants to do is help kids have good, clean teeth and all he gets is screaming and crying all day and I just feel bad for him (a good dose of manipulation coupled with thinking outside oneself).
Ethan: Well, I don't hate the dentist. I just hate going to the dentist (Successful separation!)
Me: Yeah, I understand that. But it's just one of those things we have to do in life (I will spare you the part of the conversation where I thought it wise to explain to my son how adults have to do taxes, only to be bombarded with the "why" bomb 7,200 times).
Ethan: Mom, you know when I was crying in the dentist chair last week?
Me: Yeah
Ethan: Did you feel bad for me?
Me: Yes, of course.
Ethan: Who did you feel badder for, me or the dentist? (BACKFIRE! Darn kids too smart for his own good)
Me: Well, you of course. You're my son. Listen, let's get through this today and mommy will by you an ice-cream cone from McDonald's afterward (and to top it off, a little bribery).
Fast-forward to the dentist office. Ethan is sitting in the corner of the room refusing to get on the dentist chair. I use my "Love and Logic" skills (great book) and give him a choice, "Ethan, you can get in the chair all by yourself or I can help you." He slowly moves toward the chair and climbs up on it. The assistance give me three cheers for good parenting and I too give myself a pat on the back. The dentist enters the room and starts to look in Ethan's mouth. Ethan starts to resist and things are getting harder. "Ethan, this is making everything take a really long time and I don't like to see you suffer. If you let the dentist do his job and you sit there quietly, we can get out of here quicker. So, do you want to sit there for a long time or a little bit?" Ethan quiets down and the dentist gives me his nod of approval. I'm not gonna lie, I'm pretty much feeling like mom of the year at this point. Dentist and assistant are impressed by my mad skills and son seems to be reluctantly complying. Pride cometh before the fall...
It was time for the spacers. I tried and tried to use my newly acquired parenting skills on Ethan but a funny thing about fear, when someone is truly fearful that another is about to harm them, they throw logic out the window. I was left with no choice but to hold Ethan down. He screamed bloody murder and fought me with all his strength (seriously, the boy is strong). The dentist took a break in between teeth and I wanted to give Ethan a break too. "Ethan, I'm going to let you go, okay?" He nodded in agreement. I slowly released him. He sat up quickly, turned toward the dentist and socked him right in the gut. Yep, you heard it right, my son punched the dentist. There are certain times in life as a parent when you are quick to react and you don't care who is watching you. Like when your child is running toward the street and you let out one of those crazy mama war cries that scares the life out of your kid and all bystanders. This was one of those moments. I grabbed Ethan by the mouth (I think I actually picked him up by the mouth) and moved his face to my face so that we were eye to eye and said in my most stern of mommy voices, "You do NOT punch the dentist!" I think he got the message. Needless to say, we did not go to McDonald's. Lots of lessons learned that day for momma and boy. Yep, lots of lessons learned.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Beatiful Clothes
Sometimes when I am in a dreaming sort of mood I look at shabbyapple.com Seriously cute clothes. I dream of my girls in these:
Silver Bubble Little Girl's Party Dress - Silver Bellemy son in this
Gingham Boy's Neckties
and me in this
Pin Striped Princess Seamed Dress with Drop Hemline
I could afford these items if I were to give up frivolous things like meat and fruits and veggies and live off rice and beans for like two months. I'm seriously considering it. Then maybe I could even pull off that fancy dress. These clothes are, of course, not necessities. But imagine how fancy we would look as we strolled down the street (assuming I would let my kids step foot outside in such fancy clothes). A girl can dream...
Silver Bubble Little Girl's Party Dress - Silver Bellemy son in this
Gingham Boy's Neckties
and me in this
Pin Striped Princess Seamed Dress with Drop Hemline
I could afford these items if I were to give up frivolous things like meat and fruits and veggies and live off rice and beans for like two months. I'm seriously considering it. Then maybe I could even pull off that fancy dress. These clothes are, of course, not necessities. But imagine how fancy we would look as we strolled down the street (assuming I would let my kids step foot outside in such fancy clothes). A girl can dream...
Monday, March 7, 2011
A Mother's Blessings
Our youngest child, Allison, never ceases to amaze me. I call her my free spirit. She hates being confined whether that be in the bars of her crib, the straps of her carseat, the pews at church or the walls of the house. Let her outside and she will run like a rabbit in every direction. I can barely get her pajamas off of her in the morning before she breaks free, smiling, running and screaming as her itty-bitty butt gets farther and farther away from me. She is something BIG stuck in a baby.
It's amazing to me, you know? How she can somehow be so different than her logical, analytical brother and her dramatic, girly, outgoing sister. Three completely different individuals raised in the same home. They are similar in other ways. Take one look at my three kids and you just might think Andy created clones (he jokes, survival of the fittest). People actually stop me in the store and say, "They must look like their father." Gotta love well-meaning strangers. All my kids love to be outside and seem to hate movie theaters (something about dark crowded rooms with ear shattering sound and larger than life pictures- I don't know). But they are three beautiful, unique children made by the crafty hand of God.
So I'm putting Ally to bed tonight and I'm squeezing the growing-up right out of her because I know it goes by so fast. I'm taking deep breaths of freckle-less skin and asking her silly, rhetorical questions like, "Do you know how much I love you?" And all the chaos of the day and the sacrifice we make as mothers melts away. Because it could never compare to the immeasurable blessings we have been given. That is what our children are, after all, blessings.
It's amazing to me, you know? How she can somehow be so different than her logical, analytical brother and her dramatic, girly, outgoing sister. Three completely different individuals raised in the same home. They are similar in other ways. Take one look at my three kids and you just might think Andy created clones (he jokes, survival of the fittest). People actually stop me in the store and say, "They must look like their father." Gotta love well-meaning strangers. All my kids love to be outside and seem to hate movie theaters (something about dark crowded rooms with ear shattering sound and larger than life pictures- I don't know). But they are three beautiful, unique children made by the crafty hand of God.
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