New Beginnings

It's that time of the year again.  School is in session, summer is officially over and the calendar is already filling up with activities.  Nathan and Grace attended the YMCA summer camp this year and had a really great time.  They swam every day, stayed active and went on field trips once a week.  They made new friends and enjoyed their time away from school and all the responsibilities associated with the classroom.

But it's here again.  We had meet the teacher night Monday, and the kids were really excited to be in the halls of their school again, calling out to old friends they had not seen all summer and hugging teachers.  It was such a different scene from last year when we were new to this area and the kids didn't know anyone.  They quietly observed the other children and shyly said hello to their teachers.  You would never know by looking at them today that they were the "new kids" last year.  I was so proud of their confidence and friendly attitudes.  Another of many prayers answered over the course of the last twelve months.

Every year since Nathan started Kindergarten, we've driven them to school on the first day, walked them to their classes and stayed for a few minutes for a picture or two.  When I asked them if they wanted me to drive them to school on the first day, Gracie immediately made it clear that she wanted to ride the bus. Nathan still wanted me to drive him to school and go inside, but the closer it got to the first day I could tell that he was not entirely sure what he wanted.  So I asked them one more time this morning what they wanted me to do.  The answer broke my heart and made it sing all at one time.  I could drive them to school, but they could handle it from there.  They didn't want me to walk them in.

On one hand, it made me sad that this would be the first year with no pictures from inside the classroom and no picture of Trevor holding Nathan or Grace's hand.  No last minute hugs or kisses.  Just a quick "I love you mom!" as they stepped out of the Tahoe and then a fleeting glance of them walking into the school.  Not even time for a quick photo of them from the drop-off lane.

On the other hand it made my heart sing with thanksgiving to God that He had been faithful to answer my prayers that my children would make new friends and fit in with their peers in this new town.  That they were confident, happy children with an excitement for school and for Him.

So I sit here waiting.  Waiting for the sound of the bus pulling up outside, and then the excited chatter and laughter of children getting off the bus and running home.  Waiting for my babies who are not babies any more, to come barreling through the front door, full of stories and information about their first day of school.  Waiting for the new rhythm of our days to begin again and to watch as my children grow over the next year and marvel once again at the mercy and grace of God in our lives.

Gender Confusion

I was in Gracie's bedroom the other day, and she wanted to show me something she had drawn on her chalkboard.  There were two words written there, one in blue (boys) and one in pink (girls).  She told me that the sign was meant to show who could come in her room.  I laughed and said that she was giving permission for everyone to come in if both boys and girls were listed.

Gracie looked at me like I was crazy and told me no.  I tried to explain that everyone is either a boy or a girl which meant that everyone could come in her room.  If she was old enough to understand the art of eye rolling and deep sighs I would have gotten both from her.  She said very patiently, as though I was  slightly mentally inpaired:

"Not Grandpa, because he's a grandpa and not Daddy because he's a Daddy."

 I guess that makes sense because until just recently she thought that the term human meant adults and that children weren't included in that group.  As in, "They weren't humans Mommy, they were kids!"  What will she think of next?

A New Way to Shop

I was driving Gracie to a birthday party Saturday morning, and I realized that she had no idea what I had purchased as a gift. I told her that I went shopping last week and bought a Play-Dough Magic Swirl Ice Cream Shoppe for her friend. Gracie loves hers, and I figured it would be a hit.

There was a short pause, and Gracie asked in a slightly suspicious tone:

"Did you go shopping at the store or in my room?"

Well, I never thought of just shopping in her room! I'll have to remember that next time we need a gift!

AWANA Grand Prix 2009

We had such a wonderful time last night at our church's annual AWANA Grand Prix! We had never made pine wood cars before, and there were some really awesome designs at the event. After seeing all of the cars, Trevor had some really good ideas for how we can help the kids make their cars better next year.

When we first heard about the Grand Prix, we were sort of lukewarm about the whole thing. Then the kids started making and painting the cars, and I got a little more excited. When we arrived last night in the gym, I was not expecting the incredible turnout and energy in that place! It was so awesome to see the church turn out to support the kids and to just have a great time together.

Neither Nathan or Grace won any of the heats they were in, but still had a good time watching the races and gorging themselves on hot dogs, popcorn and lemonade. On the way home, we were already plotting car design and paint schemes for next year. This was just one more reason that I love our new church!

Let Them Be Little

Today is the first Sunday after Labor Day. If you are a woman (or well-bred man for that matter) from the South, you know what this means. The white shoes have been polished, winterized and put away until Easter and the dark shoes come out of the closet for a season. No matter that it is still 90 degrees outside and you are still wearing summer dresses. No matter that the current fashion mavens say it's okay to wear white after Labor Day. We know better.

So, in the time honored tradition of my southern belle fore bearers, I went in search of black patent dress shoes for Grace yesterday. And I searched. And searched. And searched some more. I hit the usual places...Target, Walmart, Kohl's and Belks. I went to Shoe Carnival, Famous Footwear and Rack Room Shoes. I found a pair of ballet style shoes at Payless, but they weren't the dressy shoes I was looking for.

I think what disturbed me the most was the type of shoe that I was finding on the shelves for little girls. Now don't forget that Gracie is five years old. The shoes I was finding in her size were covered in sequins, sporting cheap flowers and/or being supported by a heel tall enough to make me uncomfortable. Then there were the strappy heels for preschoolers that were a pedophile's dream come true. I seem to have this problem every time I search for dress shoes.

I don't want my little girl to look like she's wearing footwear more suitable for a teenager or adult woman. I want her to look like she is five years old, because she is. I realize that I am not exactly the most fashion conscious person, and I'm okay with that. I don't usually like the new styles that come out for women. I'm more of a jeans and t-shirt kind of girl, with the occasional pair of dress Capri's and nice blouse thrown in for good measure. I typically wear dresses on Sunday morning to church, and never wear white after Labor Day or before Easter.


I'm a little old fashioned, but I think that is a good thing when it comes to children's clothing. When I finally found a pair of shoes at Dillard's, I was talking to the salesperson about my difficulty finding shoes. Our conversation turned to the types of dresses and clothing available for little girls these days, and we were in agreement that much of what is out there is entirely inappropriate for them. The skirts are too short and the shirts are too tight. As a matter of fact, I usually have to buy Gracie's t-shirts a size too big because they are intended to be skin tight.

Who wants to see a five year old child's body in skin tight clothes? For that matter, who wants to see a little girl in hoochie mama wedge flip flops (on which she is precariously balancing, trying not to break an ankle), short shorts and a halter top? Children are not little adults. They are children and we are taking away a bit of their childhood by dressing them that way.

So as I made my way home with my black patent leather shoes, I looked forward to seeing Gracie in her new shoes and sweet (age appropriate) linen dress. She's already growing up too fast...I'm not going to speed her along!

The Treasure Fairy

In the far away land of Nannie and Papa's House a small fairy was born among the tree nymphs and dryads. She knew her calling in life from the very beginning and was aptly named Treasure Fairy. She spent her time becoming an expert shopper in the nearby lands of Target Dollar Section and Everything's A Dollar, collecting items that she knew would please the sometimes inhabitants of Nannie and Papa's House.

She gave a mirthful giggle when the oldest one they called Nathan could not pronounce her name and began calling her The Blueberry, and sent happy thoughts his way when she would deposit the small gifts in his treasure box each night. She would hide in the closet to wait for his sleepy tread on the floor in the morning, basking in the glow of his delight which imbued her with magic and strengthened her for another shopping trip.

Then the next child named Gracie was suddenly old enough to have a treasure box, and she was able to procure girly gifts for the little one. She flitted among the pink items and sparkly stickers, anticipating the squeals of pleasure that would accompany their discovery. She loved the children, and although their visits to the land of Nannie and Papa's House were infrequent, she continued to stockpile gifts so that she would be ready at any time to welcome them back.

Then one day Nathan looked a bit perplexed as he opened his box. He was happy with his gifts, but she did not receive her normal boost of magic when he saw them. She followed him at a distance as he sought out the Queen of the land, and asked her in a quiet voice if there was really a Treasure Fairy (because by this time he could pronounce her name correctly) and she gently told him the truth. "No son, there is not a real Treasure Fairy. Nannie and Papa put those gifts in your box every night."


Treasure Fairy gasped at this blatant lie and quickly flew away to her small hidey hole in the closet where she sobbed her little heart out. Then she heard a small sound by the treasure boxes. She peeked out from her hiding place and saw Gracie sitting there with a look of pure joy on her face as she cradled a package of sparkly stickers in her hands. Treasure Fairy felt her strength coming back and leaped into the air with a little shout. "She still believes! She still believes!", she thought triumphantly.


And so it was that the oldest child left part of the magic of childhood behind, and soon thereafter lost his faith in the Tooth Fairy as well. But both fairies knew that although his growing mind couldn't hold on to them and logic both, that they still had Gracie for a season. And it was enough.

Making Memories

Trevor and I spent a good portion of this evening playing Canasta. We go in phases, usually jump started by a gathering of his family. We'll play for an afternoon, and then still have the bug the following week so we play one on one for a while.

We had his family over last Sunday for a lunch celebrating his parent's 40th wedding anniversary. We had a wonderful time, and completed the day by playing Canasta. Apparently, playing cards was a favorite past time when his parents, aunts and uncles were younger. I never met his paternal grandfather, but from the stories told round the kitchen table, he was a legendary player of Canasta.

When I married into Trevor's family, I learned how to play Spades, dominoes and Canasta, among other things. There have been so many afternoons spent after lunch at his parent's table talking, laughing and playing games as the bright sunshine faded into the mellow blues and purples of twilight. The lights would be turned on, leftover's taken out between hands and the gaming would continue until our eyes were blurry and the kids were nodding off.

This is the stuff life is made of. The big events are wonderful...birthdays, anniversaries, weddings and graduations...but the most important moments are the ones that we aren't even aware we are creating. The laughing until you cry moments, the small head on your shoulder moments and the cozy evenings by the fire with your family moments. The ones that make up the very fabric of our existence, and that make us who we are.

As we were playing cards in the dining room, Gracie pulled out the dominoes in the living room. She was quietly stacking them and then putting them back in the tin, when Nathan sat down next to her. After a moment, she asked him,

Would you like to enjoy me?

Trevor and I locked eyes over our cards and stifled laughs. She asked him again, and Nathan was so confused he didn't know what to say. I finally explained to him that she was asking him if he would like to join her. Not enjoy her, because that would wrong on so many levels. How's that for a memory?

Thank Goodness For Skin

Gracie has a bad habit of standing on the edge our our slippery, porcelain bath tub when she is ready to get out. Keep in mind that she is as slippery as a fish and that the hard tub is not in the least bit forgiving. Every time I find her perched on the edge, ready to leap out to the bathmat, I have to remind her (and remind her, and remind her, and remind her) that it's dangerous and that she might break her head open.

So last night after the "Grace, I've told you a blah blah blah stand on the edge blah blah, kill yourself, she said:

If I fall and break my head open, you'll see my whole blood.

Well, OK. I guess that's better than half blood, whatever that might be. Then she went on to say:

You can't see my blood because I have my skin on.

Does she think it's removable?

"Toasting" Marshmallows

I thought that it would be a nice end to a great day if we let the kids toast some marshmallows last night. They helped me build the fire and then waited for it to burn down enough to have coals.


After a few attempts, Nathan was a pro, but Gracie had a decidedly unique method for getting her marshmallows just right.




Step one: Put marshmallow on clothes hanger.

Step two: Wave marshmallow over the fire for approximately .03 nanoseconds.

Step three: Blow on marshmallow to "cool".

Step four: Eat marshmallow.

I have to say that her technique has the advantage of cutting the toasting time by about 99.9%, so she got the lion's share of sugary goodness. After about the 4th time, I had to get the camera and get some video of the entire process. As expected, the video is remarkably short.

She's Just Like Me

Trevor made a comment this past Friday that really got me thinking about my personality. I have to begin by giving some background, so that you will understand what he meant.

Friday afternoon, the kids and I pulled up into the driveway and I turned off the engine. I got out to go around to Gracie's door so I could get her unbuckled, and noticed that Nathan had gone around the back, opened her door and was trying to help her out. I say trying, because she was screaming at him to stop touching her and generally being unreasonable. I made her calm down and let Nathan help her, and then thanked Nathan for being so helpful. I turned to Gracie and told her to tell Nathan thank you for his help.

She pressed her lips together and glared at me. Sigh. For the hundredth time in 2 weeks, we had this conversation:

Xandra: "What happens when you don't obey Mommy?"

Grace: "I get a spanking."

Xandra: "So would you rather obey Mommy and tell Nathan thank you, or would you rather get a spanking for being disobedient?"

Grace: "Say thank you."

Great! Problem solved and we moved on. We tackled disobedience and manners in the same lesson. Too bad it didn't actually work out that way. When it came to actually saying thank you, it was quite problematic. She pressed her lips together and glared at me. When after some prompting she still refused to speak, I followed through and gave her a swat. I then instructed her to go tell Nathan thank you.

Again, the pressed lips and the glaring. We had the above conversation again, and she made the same choice. And we went through the same thing, again. Two swats, and no "thank you."

People, she took three spankings and when she finally said thank you it was barely intelligible. So much for absorbing the lesson on politeness. I sat her on my lap and held her for a bit and told her that I loved her, and all was well with the world.

Until later.

I actually can't remember why we were going through the cycle of conversation, choices and discipline, but Trevor was home by then. After it was over, I told him about the earlier incident, and he said, "She's just like you."

At first, I dismissed it as joking about how stubborn I am, but then I realized that he had a point. It is true that I am stubborn, particularly when I think I'm right. But what he was talking about was my pathological hatred of being told what to do. For example, if Trevor and I are wrestling and he has me down he will tell me to say uncle. I would rather have my finger snapped off than to give in. Maybe it's because I had a big brother. Who knows?

But that is the spirit in which Gracie is disobedient. It's not that the thing we are asking her to do is beyond her or even distasteful. It's the fact that it's not her idea and so she does not want to do it. That's when I started thinking about this shared personality trait in terms of my relationship with God. Sometime I don't want to be obedient out of pure obstinancy. Just like Gracie misses the blessing of harmony with her family when she disobeys Trevor and me, I miss the blessing of being in communion with the Father. I go through discipline and refining when I choose disobedience.

But when I finally let go of my will, and submit to God's, the homecoming is so sweet. Love and forgiveness wash over me as I confess and repent of my sin. I (foolishly) vow to never disappoint my Father again and, at the time, truly mean it. But inevitably the cycle begins again, and I find myself on my knees confessing and repenting. But here's the kicker:

He is faithful to forgive my sins and welcome me back with open arms.

Every time.

As much as I love Gracie and only want good things for her; and would never turn her away, how much more does my Father in heaven love me? When I fall away in sin and disobedience, I have the sweet assurance that my Father in heaven will never turn me away either.

If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. If we say that we have not sinned, we make Him a liar, and His word is not in us. 1 John 1:8-10.

Smarshmallows!

If you want a little giggle to brighten your day, just click below. This is how Gracie says "marshmallows":