A Case of Mistaken Identity

We had the Ingle family stay with us this weekend and the kids played non-stop while we enjoyed good conversation.  Their middle, Colin, is about one year older than Ethan.  They're good buddies.  Anyway, we put the boys to bed in the basement and later we all went to bed.  Around two in the morning I wake up to a little voice. "Mommy," a little shadowy figure says standing in my doorway, "I'm scared of the dark."  I initially think this little boy looks too tall to be mine and I say in a half awake daze, "Honey, your Mommy and Daddy aren't in here."

The little boy acted as if what I said meant nothing and walked right up to my bed.  I couldn't see his face because it was too dark but realized I may have made a mistake.  "Ethan?"  I asked.  At that, he climbed into bed and right over me.  He snuggled beside Andy.  I laid back down to go to sleep and noticed a big hole in Ethan's shirt.  I remembered one of the Ingle boys had a hole in his shirt.  "Andy, is that Ethan?" I asked. Andy woke up and tried to feel the little boy's head, "I don't know," he said.  Just then the little boy must have fully awoken because he said, "This is Colin... Ughhhh" and proceeded to bury his head in the pillow.  He was totally embarrassed.  I informed him his parents were sleeping in the living room and dragged this 45 plus pound boy out of my bed trying not to laugh but totally giggling all the way down the hall.  When I got to the living room I let go of him and without missing a cue he started the process over again.  "Mommy, I'm scared of the dark."  and he climbed into bed with his Mama.  It took me 20 minutes to get back to sleep because I couldn't stop laughing.

                    The Ingle Family- Colin is the little boy on the right.

 It's been one of those weeks.  Somebody slipped my kids sugar bombs that go off sometime at night when it's time to start winding down.  We can't seem to keep them calm.  If there's one thing I know about hyperactive kids, it's that one kid comes to me in tears at some point in all of the action.  "So and so jumped off the couch onto my leg..." or "I was jumping on my bed and fell off..."  The possibilities are endless.

I'm weary, dear friends.  Weary of being the mom who says, "No!" "Stop that!" "Go to your room!" "Stop biting the eraser heads off the pencils!"  That last one might be specific to Allison.  I thank God my third child is growing up in a time of non-toxic markers and crayons.  I think conservative estimates would put her non-food consumption at a dozen eraser heads, an eight pack of crayons and the color sucked out of about five markers (She bites the heads off those too but for some reason she won't swallow them so I fish them out).  Before you ask the inevitable question, no, they are not where she can reach them.  Big brother and sister are learning important lessons in responsibility recently.

The icing on the cake was Ethan got in trouble at Sunday School last week for hyperactivity, disrupting the class and ripping the page he was supposed to be working on in half.  I searched my brain for excuses as to why he was behaving so poorly.  I came up empty.  Maybe there are reasons for such behavior that only he knows because he sure wouldn't share them with me.  Besides, I chalk it up to being a little sinner.  But the bottom line is he was out of line and he had consequences for his actions.  I'll tell you what, this whole parenting thing keeps you humble.  I had grand ideas for how my children were going to behave before they were born.

So where's the grace?  This is what I love about our God.  He is so thoughtful in the little things.  This week's "little thing" was checking on them before I went to bed.  There they were, sleeping so peacefully.  I could feel the stress and frustration melt away with every breath they took.  I took a picture as a reminder of that peace.

I may need to be reminded of these pictures the next time my hooligans decide to push the envelope again.

By the way, these were taken in the middle of the night so my flash has mad skills.  There is no Ally picture because frankly, it wasn't worth the risk.  She turns into a Gremlin at night.

A Short Story... New Acorns

-Inspired by a true story-
... at least a very, very small piece of the story. ;)

Thomas Squirrel ran across the lawn of the vicarage house and up the tree to his nest.  He was so excited he could hardly contain himself.  Betsy Squirrel was in the middle of nursing her four newborn babies.  "Betsy, Betsy, you won't believe what I have just found.  A true treasure of treasures!"

Betsy was less than excited, "Another acorn?" She stated with sarcasm.

Thomas ignored her mockery and continued on with passion, "It was something like I have never seen or tasted before and-"  Thomas was so caught up in his excitement that he lost his footing and started to fall.  He tried to glide with his tail but fell down to the ground.  His fall was softened by the familiar feeling of fur.

"What in tarnation!"  Elder Squirrel exclaimed.  Thomas had landed right on top of him.  Elder Squirrel was a grouchy old squirrel of six years.  He felt it necessary to teach Thomas Squirrel a lesson at every encounter.  "Thomas, you clumsy little vermin!"

Thomas still gleaming with excitement and unscathed by Elder Squirrel's not so nice words continued on speaking now to his wife Betsy, who had ran down the tree to check on him, and Elder Squirrel.  "There I was minding my own business when Chief Big Lady walked out of the house.  I scurried up the tree and out of sight.  She had a bag in her hand and began to drop little egg-shaped things onto the ground.  At first I passed it off as yet another weird thing the tribe of people do.  I'm sure I don't have to remind you of how Little Girl Two-Foot Tall enjoys dropping her food in the dirt and picking it up and eating it over and over again.  Or how Little Boy Three-Foot Tall likes to dig in the dirt for hours without ever storing food in the holes he makes."

"They are a funny tribe to watch," Betsy Squirrel giggled and agreed.

"Well, she walked back inside and I went to the ground to see what kind of objects she had placed in our territory.  My senses caught a whiff of the most delightful smell.  I picked up the funny egg-shaped object.  It was shiny and hard but I knew there was something wonderful inside."

"I tell you," Elder Squirrel interrupted, "This can only lead to trouble.  You young folk think you know more than our squirrel ancestors.  We eat acorns!  We are squirrels not rats!  Where is your pride?"  Elder Squirrel beat his tail on the ground and Thomas Squirrel backed away a little bit.  But Elder Squirrel's curiosity got the best of him and he cleared his throat, "Ahem..., well, what did you find then?"

Thomas continued on trying not to seem too excited but doing so unsuccessfully.  "Well, I used my teeth to open up the top as with any acorn.  Inside was a shiny item that made a noise almost like that of a leaf crumbling when stepped on after the fall season.  I got through the exterior only to find a soft, dark and creamy square of a thing.  My curiosity and senses were almost too much for me to bear so I began to nibble quickly through this delicacy and it got better and better with each bite!"  Betsy Squirrel's eyes grew large.  Feeding four babies can make a mama squirrel become extrordinarily hungry!  Thomas continued, "But that's not the best part!  You see, in the middle was a very small nut!  A new acorn made with a delicious outside!  Oh Betsy and Elder Squirrel, you really must try it!"

"Yes, I think I will!"  Betsy squirrel exclaimed.

"I dare say,"  Elder Squirrel said trying not to show his excitement, "I think I shall try this new acorn as well."

Thomas was so caught up in his story he didn't realize how he was making his fellow squirrels salivate with anticipation.  "Oh," he said sheepishly, "well, about that.  You see the Little Three-Foot Talls and Two-Foot Tall came out shortly after that and collected all of the egg-shaped acorns.  They are gone."

Betsy and Elder squirrel were full of disappointment but Elder Squirrel broke the sad silence to save face, "It's probably for the best.  That new acorn will probably make you crazy or sick.  Yes indeed, I'm glad I did not find it."

 Thomas ran off and began to dig.  "Thomas, what are you doing?"  Betsy asked.  She turned to Elder Squirrel and said with worry in her voice, "Perhaps the new acorn really did make him crazy."  Elder Squirrel nodded in agreement.  Just then Thomas pulled something odd from the ground and ran over to them with a quirky smile on his face.  It was the new acorn!  "Surely, you didn't think I would forget to save you some!"  Thomas said.

Elder Squirrel stood uncomfortably near by wishing he could take back his words so he could try the new acorn which smelled so good.  Betsy, perceiving his thoughts, tore off a piece of her own and shared with Elder Squirrel.  They all happily ate together and talked of the people tribe and all of their peculiar behaviors.

What I'll Miss Most

I know I'll miss their perfectly round milky eyes and soft skin.  I'll miss the funny way Abby says, "Shine and rise!" in the morning or how the kids still call that fast food place, "Old McDonald's," and how they will someday be in 12 step programs for a mother who refuses to correct them.  I love the silly way they say things and part of me never wants that to change.  But what I will miss most when they are all grown up and out of the house is their little feet.

Yeah, I know, sounds silly.  But I love the way their feet are still so soft and perfect.  They aren't over grown monstrosities calloused with life's rough roads.  They're just little feet with little nubby toes.

I especially love baby feet.  The way they fold underneath baby girl's butt.

And the way they look when she stands on her tippy toes.

I love the way their feet smell, even when they're stinky.  I love how they don't have that one over-achieving super toe that feels it has to grow far above the rest.  Baby feet are perfectly lined up.  So I kiss their little feet and take care of them with plenty of tickles, because someday those feet will grow up too.

Technical Difficulties

It used to be that people were not very open with their family life. Today we live in a world where almost everyone uses the internet and everything that goes on in our lives is documented through little blurbs on facebook and/or twitter or ramblings of parental philosophies and stories on blogs (ahem).  On one end of the spectrum, I have heard it said it is best to get rid of it all and allow the home to be private once more.  The other end of the spectrum says this is the very outlet that people need.  It brings community and help from afar.  It brings a sense of belonging and a "I'm not alone in this" kind of feeling.  I can relate to that as a mother.
Can I choose the middle ground without sounding too much like a politician?  I appreciate these media outlets and obviously use them.  But I would be lying to say I have not shooed away a kid or two in pursuit of finishing a thought, or half-parented sibling rivalry that could have used my full attention, or wrote something on facebook that I later regretted.  I have made up all kinds of rules for myself that I repeatedly break: Don't get on the computer until the kids are in bed, only be on the computer for such and such a time, etc., etc.. I continue to fall short of these goals.  So what is the solution?  Do I cut off my ties and call it quits?
I don't believe so.  As I have said, these things can serve a greater purpose.  And like anything, alcohol, books, games, cell phones, the problem is not the thing in itself, it's the sinner using it.  It's another one of those things that has to be checked daily.  It's another one of those things I will fail at miserably.  But don't throw the diaper out with the baby still attached (Yes? .. No?  Trying my hand at making a modern idiom, cause seriously, we don't throw bath water out the window anymore).
 I think that rules (or goals) for oneself is great.  And rules do not equal legalism. Extra-biblical rules imposed on other people is legalism (Isn't this one of the most misunderstood concepts for people these days?)  Also, breaking a rule is not a sin. (No need for false guilt.  I got enough of the real stuff.)  Just the same, rules should also never be a form of self-righteousness.  However, saying, "I'm a better parent when I'm not on the computer and so I will try to do that when they are sleeping or away," is not a bad goal for me.  Or should I say: Yes, with the help of God.
But I refuse to give up singing at the top of my lungs in the car no matter how much my children cry or beg me to stop.  They may not interrupt that... No matter what.  Everybody has a line, man.

Panning for Gold

I don't suppose the guy who panned for gold year after year ever regretted that time once he found a big chunk of gold.  He was rich and it was all worth it.  (Warning, analogy coming...)
Parenting is a lot like panning for gold.  People hear Billy Bob struck it rich and they all want the same thing.  They don't really think about the labor or long days, they just think about the gold.  Before kids, I wanted kids.  I know not everyone has this sentiment but as a Christian, it was the natural overflow of marriage (assuming one can have children).  I loved the way a baby smiled, the way a toddler walked like a penguin and all the cute things preschoolers said.  I couldn't wait for the baseball games, the confirmations, the birthday parties, etc.  That was parenting to me.  Sure there would be some discipline and sacrifice involved but I was going to be a great parent! 
 When we brought Ethan home from the hospital, we were so lost.  Why is he crying so much? Why won't he sleep in his bed? Why doesn't the poop stay in his diaper and why doesn't his pee stay out of my face?  I had made the decision to breastfeed but every time he latched on I sang obscenities.  Why didn't anyone tell me it would hurt for awhile?  I felt I had no time to myself and I was going insane due to lack of sleep.  I felt like a failure.  I hated Johnson and Johnson for leading me astray with their cute, laughing babies.
Then one day, Ethan smiled.  It was so beautiful.  I can't explain the feeling but only to say I had forgotten all the dirt and rocks I had panned because I had found gold!  Then came laughing, teeth, crawling, talking and all of the other milestones we get overly excited for as mothers.
So here's the thing.  I write about all these different "moments."  Some good, some bad, some funny, some that make me think and contemplate.  But that is not most of my day.  Most of my day is routine; a lot of panning rocks and dirt.  The kids wake up, they eat breakfast, they brush their teeth, they fight, they whine and they play.  Most meals are chaotic: Ally running food through her hair, Ethan complaining about the food I slaved over, Abby poking her brother when I'm not looking, Mommy loosing her cool... again.  Does that not make it worth it?  By no means! I do it because it is what I was called to do.  And when we do what we are called to do, we find an immeasurable joy.   You see, sometimes we sit down for dinner and low and behold what do we find, gold!  Ally trying to drink her spaghetti and talking into the bowl because everyone is laughing at her.  Ethan talking theology with his sister:

Abby: If you follow Jesus you will have lots of money.
Destiny: Who have you been listening to?
Ethan: Some people think if you say "Praise the Lord" that God is going to give them lots of money. I saw that on a movie daddy was watching, but it said that's not true.

And it is all worth it.  Really.  I can't tell you how often I hear, "They do grow up," or "You're busy!"  and I don't really know what to say.  I just smile and nod but deep down I am thinking, "Judging by my whinny kids and screaming baby, I see why you would feel sorry for me, but don't be.  These kids are gold mines!

1/2

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.