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.

The First Born

I was sitting in my chair yesterday, when a paper airplane flew into my lap. I turned around to see Nathan grinning from ear to ear. (Making paper airplanes has become something of an obsession for him recently)

I was instructed to open it, and on the inside was written:

I love you being my mom!

Talk about a heart-melting, hug-inducing, tear-welling moment!

Nathaniel and the Wonderful, Fabulous, So Good, Very Nice...

...three weeks.

Thanks for all of the prayers, girls, because they have been answered! Nathan has done a complete about face with regard to his behavior and attitude at school and at home. He has received excellent daily conduct reports, and the few marks he has received are for things that he does because he is six.

Our evenings are (mostly) no longer spent in front of the television or computer screen, and are instead spent playing games or reading books. Please don't think our home has become a Norman Rockwell painting, because we still have our share of tantrums, hurt feelings, TV watching and stress. But I think that the extra effort on our part to be more attentive to the kids has paid off tremendously.

Not only that, but the kids and I have started a routine of praying on the way to the sitters every morning. I can't tell you how sweet it is to my ears when I hear Nathan praying that he will make good choices that day, and that I will have a good day as well. Or when the three year old prays that she will not bite today and that she wants to be sweet. After the prayers, we recite the catechism that we are learning together.

Who made you? God did.
What else did God make? All things.
Why did God make you and all things? For His glory.
How can you glorify God? By loving Him and doing what He commands.

This is as far as we've gotten, but they love shouting out the answers correctly and Nathan keeps asking me what the next question will be. It's gratifying to see my children wanting to learn biblical truths and about the character of God. Let me be clear that I believe it takes more than a rote catechism to fully understand scripture, but I think that it is a really good start for our children. The questions and answers will lead to more in depth discussion, and that is a good thing.

There are so many out there, and we chose one that was simple enough to be understood by young children, and then we will gradually build and change it to match their growth. It's also a good tool for everyday teaching. Grace loves to point out the moon to me in the morning when we are getting in the car to leave. She squeals, "Look mommy! It's Luna! It's Luna!" I can then respond, "Yes, that's Luna. Who made Luna? When she responds with "God", then I can reinforce the fact that God did indeed make all things. Sometimes this results in a fifteen minute long recitation of all the things she can think of that God made, from the trees to the Tahoe, but that's okay.

One thing that has really hit home with me throughout this time of change with Nathan is the scripture in Ephesians 6. Nathan can recite verse 1 without blinking an eye. "Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right" but I often forget that the second part of that commandment is given to the parents. "And you, fathers, do not provoke your children to wrath, but bring them up in the training and admonition of the Lord."

Oh, how I provoke my children to wrath sometimes! My impatience with their little hands moving too slowly, or their brains not thinking as quickly as I think they should. My tendency to judge a situation before I have all of the facts. My insistence that things be done my way because I say so, and for no other reason. We have some serious wrath, or as the NIV translates, exasperation in our home!

Some days, the only way to maintain my sanity is to repeat over and over, "They are just kids, they are just kids!" Too often I think of them as adults in little bodies, forgetting that they do not have all of the social and emotional restraints that we do, and that it's my job to teach those things. If I would just slow down for 30 seconds and instruct instead of reacting, I would do away with a good deal of my children's exasperation.

So, I am thankful that Nathan is entering a season of (relative) obedience and that God used a situation that seemed so difficult and hard to teach me to be a better parent. As Heather put it, "There are times in this Christian life that we experience the Refiner’s fire. It is necessary for us to feel the heat so that we may be made pure and holy. John Piper says that “…God will have no alloys in heaven.”

How I love that quote! So I will glory in the good times and in the bad, because God intends all of it. Every single event of my life is intentional and for my good, even when I can't see past the end of my own nose.

Nathaniel and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad....

...five weeks.

Yep, you read that correctly. My six year old has had just about 5 weeks worth of bad days. If you do the math, his run of bad luck began just about the time that 1st grade started. Hmmmm.....could there be a connection?

Every day, Nathan brings home a purple folder with his homework, papers to be signed, permission slips and a conduct report. If he doesn't pull any marks all day, he gets a little smiley face for that day. If he does pull marks, he gets a letter grade based on frequency and severity.

The first week of school, all was forgiven with the words his teacher wrote across the blank spaces for that week: "Learning the new rules."

The second week of school, he received 3 smiley faces and 2 letter grades. Enough to make Trevor and I sit down with him and discuss behavior and what we expect of him.

From week 3 to week 5, he has had more bad days than good. We began taking privileges away (computer, Gameboy, time with his best friend, new Harry Potter costume for Halloween), hoping that he would modify his behavior and walk the straight and narrow.

HA!

Then came this past Sunday afternoon. We were at our annual church picnic, and Nathan was waiting in line to ride the horses. I went to check on him since he had been in line for quite some time, and as I was walking up I saw him hit a slightly older boy as hard as he could with an open hand on the back. Imagine the look of surprise and horror when I gripped the back of his neck with steel fingers and led him away from the line. That incident ended all hopes of riding a horse, and we left the picnic immediately. His behavior had finally disintegrated into physical violence.

When we got home, we sent him to his room so we could discuss appropriate punishment. We had (seemingly) tried everything, and nothing seemed to be working. We decided to follow through with a previous threat, and removed everything except for his bed and his clothes from his bedroom. He just laid there on the bed with emotionless eyes as we made trip after trip in and out of his room. It wasn't until we had retrieved the last of his things and firmly shut the door behind us that we heard him begin to cry. This just broke my heart, and I leaned on the kitchen counter trying to compose myself.

Retrospectively, this punishment was a little harsh, but at the time it seemed like a good idea. We told him that he would only get his things back by proving to us that he could make good choices and behave himself at school. I thought we had gotten through to him, and Monday morning we went over his behavior one more time to encourage him to be good at school.

At 3:45 pm, I received a phone call from his teacher to inform me that Nathan had hit a child in the face with his closed fist. I sounded like a cartoon character as I stuttered and tried to formulate words. I was literally speechless. Horrified and speechless. She told me that he would be sent to the vice-Principal's office in the morning to be written up and punished. We discussed his behavior and she was at a loss as well. He was doing an exceptional job academically, he was challenged in class and finished his work. She mentioned that he seemed angry about something, and I agreed.

As I drove home, I tried to figure out what could be making him so angry. I called my mom (who has a doctorate in education) to get some advice. After I spilled my guts for about 10 minutes straight, I finally stopped long enough for her to give me her opinion. What she said to me stopped me dead in my tracks and brought tears to my eyes.

She asked me what I had been doing differently in the past several weeks, then answered the question for me. I had been on a diligent campaign to pray for my children every day, and Satan was attacking me. He was trying to find a foothold on which to latch on and fill me with doubt about my parenting and about the character of my child.

It was working.

What she said was so obvious that I felt a little ridiculous for not recognizing it for myself. Before we hung up, she gave me a few practical tips and some advice for dealing with the situation. I prayed and thanked God for the situation and for helping me to grow as a mother and as a Christian. Although the battle was far from won, I felt a real peace about how I needed to deal with Nathan.

Without going into all of the details, I had a really good talk with Nathan that evening and I think that we made progress in communication. He saw the vice-principal the next morning (he received an hour and a half of in school suspension), and then later in the morning saw the school counselor (who taught my husband math in high school). I spoke with her and she gave me some good advice and we discussed the importance of Christian principles in rearing children. I told her that she was always welcome to bring everything back to God with regard to disciplining and talking to Nathan. We try our best to raise our children in a biblical manner, and it was good to know that I have an ally at school.

The point of this post is that this experience has made Trevor and I re-evaluate how we raise our children. We have instituted a "no computer, no TV until the kids go to bed" rule (which explains the dismal number of entries on my blog this past week) and we have family night every night. We help Nathan with his homework while we are cooking supper, and then after he is finished we do something together. Monday night it was a board game and Tuesday it was building a fort in the playroom. The point is that we are spending more time with our kids, and we've noticed a difference in their behavior.

Nathan has earned his room and Gameboy back with good behavior at school, and when he gets home in the evening he can't wait for family time. We still have issues to work through, and he's still going to have bad days at school, but we'll get through it together. I think one of our mistakes was that we were not adequately balancing our expectations for good behavior with reassurances that we loved him no matter what. I think that in his little 6 year old brain he thought he had to be perfect, and that was a goal that was completely unattainable (duh). It was such a huge mountain to climb that he didn't even try, hence the declining behavior.

Anyway, Nathan has had a dramatic change in behavior this week and I praise God that He has surrounded me with people who are willing and able to give me godly advice and counsel. And just so you know, my prayer time about my children has only increased because of this attack.

I will fear no evil

For my God is with me

And if my God is with me

Whom then shall I fear?

Whom then shall I fear?

My God is stronger than any attack that Satan can mount against me. My God is the great I AM. My God gives me strength and grace for every situation. My God is good.

The Blessings of Family

I love coming home from a trip. The whole enchilada, if you will. I love unpacking the suitcase and seeing our clothes neatly hung in straight rows or placed in careful piles in the drawers. As much as I dislike doing laundry, there is something gratifying about pulling the clean clothes out of the dryer and feeling the finality that all physical remnants of the trip are washed away. I love sleeping in my own bed with the familiar weight of my quilt and the comforting nighttime sounds associated with our house. Each load of laundry and rustle of the quilt whispers, "We're home, we're home!"

Having said that, we had a wonderful time with my family this past week. I can't remember the last time we able to stay for longer than a long weekend, and the extra days were such a blessing.

If you have seen the photo show from my post Friday, then some of what I blog about will seem familiar because you will have a photo to go along with the story. We left our house at 5 am Saturday, and arrived at Mama and Daddy's house around 10 am. I was amazed at how much Benjamin (my nephew, aka BB) had grown since January!! He was walking (running) around the house and is probably the most obedient child I have ever seen.

Patrick and Ronna approach discipline and correction from a biblical standpoint, and the results are astounding. I am sorry to say that Trevor and I used more secular, mainstream methods with Nathan and Grace until about a year and a half ago when we really started to understand what it meant to raise our children in a biblical way. It's amazing the way a child responds to authority (all authority and not just mom and dad), and to direction when they are taught biblical obedience from the very beginning.

Benjamin has moments like any other almost 2 year old, but the vast majority of the time he is happy, engaging and obedient. Any adult can ask him to "give" whatever he is holding, and he will immediately hand it to them. He responds to verbal instruction immediately, and he is one of the happiest babies I have ever come across.

When BB is asked, "Who loves Xanzie (or Nannie, or Daddy, etc)?" he thrusts his little hand in the air as though he is answering a question in class and yells, "I do!!" It is the sweetest thing I have ever seen and I wish that I had been able to capture it on film.

We spent most of our time lounging around and catching up with one another. The first night, Patrick, Ronna, Trevor and I stayed up until almost midnight discussing and debating theology. This is one of the main reasons that I enjoy my time so much with them...all the questions that I have had about my bible studies and personal reading that I have not been able to find satisfactory answers to, are fodder for discussion and teaching. I know that if I am having an issue with some area of my spiritual life, Patrick and Ronna are willing and able to help me discern the truth and to pray for me. Having a Christian family is quite possibly one the greatest blessings in this life.

The trip was filled with activity: Trevor and Patrick built a potting bench for my grandmother, Ronna and I worked on pages for a scrapbook that contained pictures of our family in Louisiana for BB, so that he would not forget us (they live in DC), and of course all of the cooking that went on. There is always cooking when we go home. I made chicken and dumplings one evening and a pork loin the next. Mix in the baking of cookies and cakes, and you have my mom's kitchen.

I was finally ready to go out the my uncle's house this trip. He passed away in January, and I have been home several times, but physically unable to go out to his house to see my aunt and cousin. It's not just the house....it's the property. It belonged to my great-grandfather and I have been going there my entire life. We climbed trees, played in the garden and had family reunions at Christmas. It seems as though my history as a human being is somehow tied up in that place....like the very cradle of my existence. I don't really know how to express such a feeling in words, but suffice it to say that I have had a serious issue with going back since Uncle Tellius' death.

When we turned down the road, I cried a few preemptive tears but when the house and property came into view, it looked just the same as it always had. I don't know why I was surprised by the normalcy of it all...maybe I was expecting it to look different because it felt different. But when I went inside, it looked just as it always had minus the greeting of "Hey baby!" from Uncle Tellius. I never realized until that moment how much that simple greeting made the experience of visiting them complete.

So, we are home and have just enough time to catch our breath before school starts Monday and our schedules change again. I laughed out loud at Karen's post about the first day of school and I too embrace the change in the fall. I am not a SAHM, but the kids are just more "into" things during the summer, and school brings with it a sense of calm that is not present during high summer! I look forward to the coming evenings at the kitchen table with Nathan, helping him with his homework and being a part of his educational growth.

Click to play Make your own Smilebox

Boot Camp for Gracie

It's been a rough evening. Gracie periodically regresses and usually does two things: deliberately disobeys Trevor and I and cries when the least little thing doesn't go her way. Trevor and I don't tolerate either one of these behaviors, and when she does this we have to have a little "Gracie Boot Camp" to get her back in shape.

The battles of wills began at the dinner table (doesn't it always?) and did not end well for Grace. She and Trevor battled through every, single bite and many tears were shed.

SIDE NOTE: Trevor and I don't force the kids to clean their plates. We are trying to teach them to eat until they are full, and the archaic practice of "a clean plate is a happy plate" does not encourage healthy, long term eating habits. Now, we don't let them waste food but we do have a "No thank you rule." They have to try everything on their plate, but they can say no thank you if they don't like something after they've tried it. But I digress.

Tonight, Gracie chose dinner as the battlefield on which to take a stand, and we could not let her get away with deliberate disobedience. I made jambalaya and green beans which are things that Gracie likes. As a matter of fact, she helped to snap the beans before I cooked them. She just decided that she was going to play instead of eat, and when we told her to eat she simply refused. You can imagine the scene that followed, and when all was said and done, Gracie had a clean plate.

In between that drama, Nathan disobeyed us by continuing to swish his spit/milk around in his mouth in true 6 year old fashion and was sent to his room. When I called him to come out and talk to me after dinner was over, we discussed why he was punished. I told him that although he had been punished this evening, that Trevor and I had noticed his good behavior recently and were proud of him. (He is going through a good phase right now....we don't have to remind him to say "yes sir" and "no ma'am", he has been very obedient and he is generally just a great kid).

He sat there for a second and then said, "I was walking down the hall one morning and I said to myself without talking out loud, that if I was doing something and Mommy or Daddy told me to do something , then I should just stop what I'm doing and do it."

Whew!

I realize that was a total run on sentence, but it was a direct quote. He went on to say that he "decided in his brain" that he was going make a good choice. His choice of words made me want to laugh, but I was so proud of him. It's clear that the values we are trying to instill in him are slowly but surely becoming more and more firmly rooted in his mind and spirit. He is such an intelligent, thoughtful boy and I feel lucky to have him as my son. Everyday he surprises me with some insight or comment on life in general. How did I get along before I had children?

So, boot camp continues for our youngest offspring and we have a season of grace with our eldest. God give us the strength to redirect the energy our strong-willed child!

Two By Two

Well, I finally got in to have that root canal done and I am pleased to report that it went smoothly and I can eat on the left side of my mouth again! I've never had a root canal before and I have to say that it was like getting a cavity filled, except that it took a little longer. I looked (and spoke) like a stroke victim for a few hours after the procedure, which made for an interesting lunch but all in all it was a positive experience. I am ready for the trip to Louisiana and Florida now that I don't have to worry about my tooth anymore.

We are finishing up the laundry so we can pack for this trip every last stitch of clothing that we own. OK, so maybe that's not entirely accurate but it sure feels like it when you are packing for a family of four. I really shouldn't complain because at least I'm done with the years of packing diapers, formula, bottles, sterilizing equipment, pacifiers, burp cloths, etc. It was quite a shock the first time we went home to Louisiana after Nathan was born. I am not a girly girl, so my packing was almost as sparse as Trevor, and suddenly we were loading one bag for Trevor and me, and 14 for the baby. It bordered on the ridiculous, but we were soon used to this mode of travel.


Now we only need two suitcases, two bikes, two pillows, two stuffed animals, two blankets and a partridge in a pear tree. Maybe this is why I frequently feel like Noah's wife....I run a zoo and everything comes in pairs! Don't forget the DVD player for the car, the lunch bag with cold drinks and snacks and the collection of DVDs. We bought a Tahoe to accommodate all the junk we take with us on trips, and sometimes it doesn't seem big enough to hold the stuff and people.

In spite of all the preparation required for our family to take a trip, we always enjoy ourselves. Trevor and I are especially looking forward to the leg of the trip after we drop the kids off at Mama and Daddy's and can have a conversation without answering questions from the backseat, opening juice containers and doling out snacks. Most importantly, we don't have to listen to Nemo, Curious George or Cars playing in the background. I can read my book, or work on my needlepoint or *gasp* sleep!

Vacation....here we come!

The Plan

The plan was to do nothing today. The plan was to lay around, eat left-over chicken spaghetti for lunch and lay around some more. But as often happens in our house, the plan fell through. What actually happened was this:

Gracie woke me up at a 6:15 am and was promptly sent back to bed. We finally rolled out of bed at 8:20 am, and I was feeling pretty confident that my relaxing day was off to a good start. Until I made it to the kitchen and remembered that Kaben had spent the night and heard Gracie clamoring for pancakes. So, I pulled out the recipe I've been using since I was about 8 years old and made a batch of pancakes for breakfast while Trevor made a big pot of Community coffee.

Just as I was taking my pancakes off the griddle, the kids were finishing theirs so I cleaned sticky fingers and faces so they could get down to the business of playing. By the time I sat down with my breakfast, the best rating I could give it was lukewarm but at least the coffee was strong and hot. After I ate, I figured it was time to start relaxing in earnest so I took my dishes to the kitchen and started back to the living room to read a few blogs and check my email.

Trevor went outside to do some work on the vehicles and after some time on the computer, I decided that I needed to go ahead and take a shower and get dressed in preparation for all the laziness I had planned for my day. I was drying off when Trevor came in to tell me Charly and Nick were in the living room (Trevor's brother's wife and their son), so I spent the next 30 minutes or so talking to her but still attempting to live the dream of rest and relaxation.

Charly went to gather Nick to go home, but he was having such a good time that he didn't want to leave. I said that he could stay while Charly finished running (a completely separate story of insanity in this heat) and so she left and Nick made four. Nick wanted to hold the gerbils so I took Lucky out of the cage, and noticed that the cage was getting a bit ripe. I put the gerbils in their exercise balls and cleaned the cage. While I was dumping the bedding in the trash can in the utility room, I noticed that the laundry was taking over the room. And so it started.

After the cage was cleaned and the gerbils were repatriated, I retired to the utility room where the clothes were calling. I put a load on to wash and then noticed (do you see a pattern here?) that there was a mound of Gracie's clothes that needed to be ironed. So, I began to iron in between quelling rebellion and strife in the playroom and running outside to make sure that Gracie and Nick weren't drinking the bubbles. Before long, it was noon and my day of "relaxation" was half gone.

As I was slathering bread with peanut butter and jelly, Charly came back. The kids ate at the counter, and I fulfilled part of my plan by eating left-over chicken spaghetti for lunch. It was quite tasty and Charly undid all of her hard work and sweat in roughly 10 minutes by eating with me. We took Nick and Gracie outside to swing, visited for awhile and then based on the exponential increase in whining, determined that it was nap time for the kids.

I finished the ironing and put another load of laundry on, and then ran to the store for a new dress and a few items for our trip to Florida next week. By the time I got home it was 4:30, Gracie was up from her nap and my enchanting friend Kellye had picked Kaben up.

I guess the point today is that the way we plan things is not always the way things turn out. I was irritated at the time that my day was filling up with chores and responsibility, but now as I reflect on it I realize that God sent so many blessings my way and I completely missed them in the midst of my chaotic life. I had the opportunity to share breakfast and coffee with my family, to see my nephew and visit with Charly, and to have some alone time while I was shopping.

Lord, please open my eyes so that I can drink in the blessings that You give me every day. My very life is a blessing...my soul has been purchased by the blood of Jesus Christ and I rely on You to renew me each morning. Your grace is sufficient for me.

Middle of the Night Storm

Trevor and I were in bed and asleep at 9:20 pm last night. This is a good thing since an incredibly loud thunderstorm woke us up around 2:15 am. At least we went to bed early to make up for the lost sleep later in the night. I was lying there trying to ignore the vibrating of the house and the bright flashes of light coming through our bedroom window and realized that sleep was a futile endeavor.

I got up and checked on Nathan as I went past his room. His eyes were like twin saucers in the preternaturally lit room and I went in to see if he needed anything. He confessed that he was about to come into my bedroom and get me because he was scared of the thunder. I reassured him that everything was alright, and told him that I was scared of thunder when I was a little girl too. I'm sure Nannie could tell him stories of me screaming for her in the night. He seemed calmed by the little talk and I went into the living room to check the local radar online.

There was a pocket of severe storms right over our house and a surrounding 20 mile radius and it was moving quickly. I had no more than closed the laptop to try and go back to bed, when the automatic light in the hall came on and I heard a stifled sob. When I got back to our room, I saw Gracie curled up tight next to Trevor quietly crying. I laid down next to her and took her in my arms as I murmured against her hair that it was just thunder and it couldn't hurt her.

She drifted off to sleep as the storm finally calmed and blew away, and I carried her to her own bed. She never roused or protested, and I was able to fall back asleep with little difficulty. The alarm going off at 6:00 am was like an ice pick in my brain, but I stumbled out of bed anyway to start the routine of my life all over again.

How many times as an adult have I longed for the comforting arms of Mama and Daddy when I have been buffeted by the storms that life brings? Too many to count, but what I have come to realize is that I don't need physical arms to calm and protect me. All I need is the comfort and peace that God gives me when I need it the most and he is always faithful. Thank you God. Thank you for Your sheltering arms when I am tossed about and feel like I am being washed away in a sea of difficulty. You are my rock and my fortress. You are my deliverer and I will trust in you.

Daddy's Girl

It would be impossible to explain how much I love my dad. I have always been a bit of a Daddy's girl, and we have always had a special relationship. When I was a little girl, we had this litany that we would go through together.

Daddy: "Are you my sweetheart?"

Xandra: "Yes."

Daddy: "Are you my baby?"

Xandra: "Yes."

Daddy: "Are you my pretty blued-eyed princess?"

Xandra: "Yes!"

Daddy: "Are you my little maggot?"

Xandra: "Yes!"

It's clear that from an early age I got my sick sense of humor from him. As I grew older, my humor became more witty (thank goodness) and refined and I have to say that I owe that part of my personality to Daddy. Everything that happens to us is not fun and games, but having a sense of humor about everything is the surest way to get through it intact.

Not only did I inherit my dry wit from Daddy, but I also inherited an ultra-sensitive internal meter that red lines when people around me are insincere or just so full of it that they believe their own press. This is a double edged sword for me, because on the positive side, it prevents me from being taken for a fool (most of the time). But, and this is a big but, I also inherited a very coarse filter between my brain and my mouth from Daddy and as a result, not much gets caught in it. When my meter goes off, the holes in the filter somehow enlarge on their own and I tend to say things that are better left in my brain.

The advantage to this is that most people generally know where they stand with me. The disadvantage is that people generally know where they stand with me. I know...seems strange, doesn't it? If I have an issue with you, you are going to feel it one way or another. This is something that I am working on daily, because I need to be able to accept others as they are and not try to bend them to my will and expectations. But, my friends and family know that I don't lie if you ask my opinion about something. You don't have to like it, but I'm going to say what I think. Myself? I respect others who tell it to me straight and don't sugar coat everything as though I can't handle the truth.

I think the reason my relationship with Daddy is more complicated than the one I have with Mama is because I see so much of him in me. The good, the bad and the ugly. He has given me a sense of humor, the attitude that I can do anything, the ability to see through other people and a strength that I think only fathers can give to their daughters. A strength that comes from being a role model as to how a man should behave and treat women. I expect to be treated with respect and dignity because that is the way my dad treated me. Many of the qualities that made me choose Trevor as my husband are the very ones that I saw in my dad growing up.

When a father gives his daughter an emotional visa to strike out on her own, he is always with her. Such a daughter has her encouraging, understanding daddy in her head, cheering her on—not simply as a woman but as a whole, unique human being with unlimited possibilities. --Victoria Secunda

There are so many things that remind me of Daddy. When I hear a Muddy Water's song on the radio, the sound of a cane rocker creaking, the smell of wood burning in a fireplace.....these all remind me of him. He gave me an appreciation for music of all kinds, reading for the pure joy of the written word and instilled in me the desire to learn and educate myself.

I think Daddy is one the smartest people that I know. There are very few questions that he can't answer, and one of the things that I have always loved about him is that he never made me feel stupid for asking. Even if he was thinking, "Is she serious? Does she really not know this?" he never made me feel small for my question.

So, today I thank Daddy for everything he has done for me. Thank you for carrying that silly rock I gave you in your pocket for years. Thank you for sacrificing your dreams to support me so that I could live comfortably and be educated. Thank you for being the kind of father that my friends envied and I could always be proud of. Thank you for remembering where you came from and for rededicating your life to the service of Christ. Thank you for always being proud of me and supporting me even when you may not have agreed with me. I love you more that words could ever say. Happy Father's Day.

Daddy's hands were soft and kind when I was crying,

Daddy's hands, were hard as steel when I'd done wrong.

Daddy's hands weren't always gentle

But I've come to understand,

There was always love in Daddy's hands.

Holly Dunn "Daddy's Hands"

The Magical Panties

Yesterday morning, after Grace didn't even make an effort to go to the bathroom and just squatted in the middle of the living room to relieve herself in her Pull-up, I decided to take charge. I have been very lax about her potty training since she has not shown any real interest in staying dry or clean, but she is 3 now and we need to buckle down.

So, off we went to her bedroom to search her top drawer for some panties. About a year ago I bought a package of Dora and a package of Curious George panties. At the time she was really into Dora and I thought that the idea of wearing big-girl panties would inspire her to potty train quickly. All those panties did was lead to many puddles of urine on my floor (and sometimes furniture), and the sinking feeling that she would never voluntarily use the toilet on her own.

As I dug down to the bottom of the drawer, I found the long forgotten Curious George panties. Eureka! This was something I could use to get her on board. There was also the potential use of her newly attained age...what 3 year old can resist praise just for being three? Anyway, as I pulled the panties out of the drawer, her eyes lit up like Christmas morning. Who would have thought that a cute little monkey would be such an incentive to use the bathroom? She squealed, "My Curious George panties!!!" and began ripping off her Pull-up.

I know this is going to be hard to believe if you are not a parent, but these panties are magical. The transformation in her behavior was immediate. She told me that she did not want to get George wet, and I found myself in the bathroom all day with her. I think that she ran to the bathroom every time she had the urge which meant that we would go through the whole ordeal for about 2 teaspoons of urine, but this was not the time for teaching the finer points of bathroom use. I was just overjoyed that she was staying dry. Excuse me, keeping George dry.

I was so proud of her at the end of the day, and I had a really hard time convincing her to wear a Pull-up to bed. She wanted to wear the panties, but I was firm about this one. We folded them carefully and put them on the bedside table to reassure her that they would be there tomorrow. I actually intended to sneak in and take them so I could wash them, but I forgot about them until later.

Grace had developed a fever and so I got up throughout the night to check her temperature and give her medicine as needed. When I went in for the first check, I almost laughed out loud when I saw her snuggled up with the George panties. She had thrown Puppy to the side and embraced the panties instead. I didn't dare move them for fear of upsetting her if she woke up and found them gone. During the next check, I woke her up a little when I took her temperature. She rolled over, and in a sleepy little voice said, "I want to wear my George panties." I reassured her that she could wear them first thing in the morning, and she quickly fell back asleep.

When she woke up this morning, the panties went on immediately and she has not had one accident. She even went by herself while I was in the shower. The real test will be whether or not she will get George dirty or not.

Happy 40th Anniversary Mama and Daddy! Thank you for getting married so that I exist.....

Taking the Wheel

This is the first day that it has really hit me that Trevor is gone. As I was loading the kids up for church this morning I was strangely aware of his absence. It has become such a ritual for us to attend church as a family, and I missed having him in the driver's seat.

When we got home, the kids wanted to use the water sprinkler toy that Grace had received for her birthday. I had them change into their bathing suits as I got lunch ready for them. This was easier than you might think since it only involved unloading the Happy Meal boxes onto plates and squirting some ketchup on the side. As they began eating, I slathered them down with sunscreen and then dashed outside to start mowing a section of grass that they could play in.

Trevor had mowed last Monday so it wasn't too high, but I knew that it couldn't wait until this Friday to be cut again. I was hoping to have the entire section done by the time the kids finished lunch and got out there, but no such luck. They stood there on the edge of the deck patiently waiting for me to finish. As soon as there was enough area to set the sprinkler in, I stopped and got everything hooked up for them.

As they began squealing with glee at the water hitting them in the face, I ran back to the mower as I realized that the water's reach far exceeded my calculations. I powered back up and cut in a ridiculously haphazard pattern in an effort to get all of the grass that was being sprayed. Needless to say the lawn was not being cut in my usual methodical way, and it irritated my OCD just a little, but the kids were having such a good time that I didn't let it bother me for long. It actually turned into a game to see how quickly I could get the grass cut before it became soaked.

It worked out well that as I was finishing the grass, the kids were growing tired of the water. I stripped them down to bare skin on the deck so I could rinse off all of the wet grass sticking to them. They looked so cute running around with no clothes on. It won't be long now before they are too old (and modest) to do things like that. I got them clean and dry and in the house and before long, Grace was out like a light.

The whole weekend had been exhausting for all of us, but especially for Grace. She offered no resistance to the suggestion of a nap and she slept for most of the afternoon. Nathan claimed to be wide awake and not sleepy at all, so we watched a few of the Harry Potter movies together. It was a nice, relaxing afternoon and I was glad to have had nothing planned.

I look forward to the week ahead with more than a little apprehension since I won't have Trevor to take over when I reach my breaking point with the kids. This will be a good opportunity to work (once again) on my patience and breathing technique. I will also be able to review my numbers since I have the feeling that I will be counting to ten (and beyond) more than once.

The Dangerous Book for Boys

I was surfing the net last night and found a book that looked really interesting. I am planning to go to Barnes and Noble this afternoon to purchase it for Nathan.

(Side note: I did indeed get this book and I cannot put it down! It is entertaining and has all the information a boy could want about making bows and arrows, treehouses and things with which to scare a little sister.)

Here is a review from Dr. Albert Mohler:

"What do boys need to know? That question led brothers Conn and Hal Iggulden to write "The Dangerous Book for Boys", and boys of every age will love it. The book took Britain by storm last year, and arrives this year just in time for summer reading. A boy armed with this book will have a very fun summer indeed.

The book instantly recalls the great Victorian era of books for boys -- books about boy heroes, adventurers, soldiers, and naturalists. Those books, often recognizable in their ornate cloth covers, were read and read again by boys as they grew older. "The Dangerous Book for Boys" is a worthy successor to that tradition.

This book will tell a boy how to read cloud formations, make a battery, make a periscope, and construct "the greatest paper airplane in the world." Boys are told of the essential gear of boyhood -- including Band-aids. Young adventurers will also learn of famous battles, the history of artillery, and how to understand girls.

On the subject of girls the authors warn that young females are likely to be "unimpressed by your mastery of a game involving wizards, or your understanding of Morse Code." Boys are also soberly warned that girls, as a general rule, "do not get quite as excited by the use of urine as a secret ink as boys do." This is important to know.
On the other hand, boys are told to help girls who need assistance. Take this sage advice, for example:

If you see a girl in need of help--unable to lift something, for example--do not taunt her. Approach the object and greet her with a cheerful smile, while surreptitiously testing the weight of the object. If you find you can lift it, go ahead. If you can't, try sitting on it and engaging her in conversation.

That advice will help a middle school boy greatly. It just might help a good many college-age boys, for that matter.

The Iggulden brothers believe that boys need to get away from the computer screen, go outside, and learn to enjoy the world and make their way in it. "Boyhood is all about curiosity," they advise. Boys need to know how to build a treehouse and how to find north in the dark -- and they need to know that they know these things. As the brothers explain:

"How do latitude and longitude work? How do you make secret ink, or send the cipher that Julius Caesar used with his generals? You'll find the answers inside. It was written by two men who would have given away the cat to get this book when they were young. It wasn't a particularly nice cat. Why did we write it now? Because these things are important still and we wished we knew them better. There are few things as satisfying as tying a decent bowline knot when someone needs a loop, or simply knowing what happened at Gettysburg and the Alamo. The tales must be told and retold, or the memories slowly die."

Boys are introduced to Shakespeare, coin tricks, spiders, and "Latin phrases every boy should know." They learn how to waterproof fabric, juggle, and understand rugby.
The book's runaway sales in Britain surprised the publishers, but not the authors.

Here is how Conn Iggulden explained the book's success:

"In a word, fathers. I am one myself and I think we've become aware that the whole "health and safety" overprotective culture isn't doing our sons any favors. Boys need to learn about risk. They need to fall off things occasionally, or--and this is the important bit--they'll take worse risks on their own. If we do away with challenging playgrounds and cancel school trips for fear of being sued, we don't end up with safer boys--we end up with them walking on train tracks. In the long run, it's not safe at all to keep our boys in the house with a PlayStation. It's not good for their health or their safety."

Expect the book to catch attention fast in this country as well -- and for the same reason. Iggulden gets to the heart of the book's attraction to boys and their dads:
You only have to push a boy on a swing to see how much he enjoys the thrill of danger. It's hard-wired. Remove any opportunity to test his courage and they'll find ways to test themselves that will be seriously dangerous for everyone around them. I think of it like playing the lottery--someone has to say "Look, you won't win--and your children won't be hurt. Relax. It won't be you." I think that's the core of the book's success. It isn't just a collection of things to do. The heroic stories alone are something we haven't had for too long. It isn't about climbing Everest, but it is an attitude, a philosophy for fathers and sons. Our institutions are too wrapped up in terror over being sued--so we have to do things with them ourselves. This book isn't a bad place to start.

As The Wall Street Journal reports, there are now over 400,000 copies of the book in print. The publisher now expects to sell as many as four million copies in the United States. Reporter Jeffrey A. Trachtenberg explains:

"The unapologetic message is that boys need a certain amount of danger and risk in their lives, and that there are certain lessons that need to be passed down from father to son, man to man. The implication is that in contemporary society basic rules of maleness aren't being handed off as they used to be."

The book aims to correct that. It does so with a pretelevision, prevideogame sensibility, and also by embracing a view of gender that has been unfashionable in recent decades: that frogs and snails and puppy dogs' tails are more than lines in a nursery rhyme, and that boys are by nature hard-wired differently than girls.

But "The Dangerous Book for Boys" is also aimed at boomer dads, who nostalgically yearn for a lost boyhood of fixing lawn mowers and catching snakes with their fathers -- even if that didn't really happen as often as they think it did.

Predictably, the book has detractors as well. Some feminists are unappreciative of its approach, its title, its intended readership, and the fact that the word "boy" is in the title. HarperCollins editor Matthew Benjamin is unmoved. "We initially thought that men nostalgic for their boyhoods would be the buyers, but people are also buying it for 12-year-old boys," he said. "This book teaches them its OK to play and explore."

A rival publisher took the book home to his eight-year-old son, who promptly jumped up from in front of the television and talked his dad into testing paper airplanes long after bedtime. "That's the good news," the dad said. "The bad news is that he now expects me to build him a treehouse."

Jane Friedman, Chief Executive at HarperCollins and herself the mother of two sons and two stepsons, is sticking by the book. There is no plan for a girls' version, she said. "Boys are very different," she observed.

Yes they are, Ms. Friedman, and that is why books like this are important. Boys want to be taken seriously as boys, and taught how to become men. To reach this goal, they will need far more than the fascinating lessons found in "The Dangerous Book for Boys" -- but this is a good place to start.

So put this book in your boy's hands and turn off the television and the PlayStation. Then get ready to watch the paper airplanes fly and the water bombs burst. And, to be honest, it wouldn't hurt to keep a few Band-aids handy . . . just in case."

Education vs. Entertainment

I am mad at our school district. It has nothing to do with the education that Nathan is receiving or with the quality of the teachers that are employed there. It has everything to do with creating opportunities all year long to make working parents feel even more guilty about not being able to spend time with their kids. I have enough self-applied guilt, thank you very much, without having someone else create some for me.

Nathan has field day today, and then the day after Memorial Day he has an awards ceremony. For what?! He's in Kindergarten for goodness sake! I mean, I'm proud of the progress that he has made this year, but is it really necessary at that age to have a ceremony? I'm one of those people who think Kindergarten graduations are the most ridiculous thing ever. Ughh. What did they accomplish, really? They learned to walk in a line, be quiet in class and (hopefully) the Golden Rule. Is a graduation really in order?? I think not.

All year long I have been amazed at the number of activities the elementary school planned that required parental involvement. There was family picnic day, kite-flying day, Thanksgiving party/activity day, and Christmas party day. For each of these events (and so many more that I do not have the time or energy to list here), a flyer was sent home with pleas for parents to come and be with their child. I took off work to help out with the Christmas party and I sent sandwiches (in the shape of little turkeys) for the Thanksgiving festivities. Trevor took a day of vacation to go on a field trip with Nathan's class.

But we were unable to take off every time a flyer was sent home requesting our presence. We both work at least 40 minutes (or more) away from home, and to attend a one hour event requires that we take either a half or whole day off from work. If we had actually taken off every time that Nathan had something going on at school, we would have spent all of our vacation days for the year. It's ridiculous and our absence caused Nathan to feel left out which really made me mad.

For instance, on kite day I asked him if he got to fly his kite. He shook his head and said, "No, I didn't have anyone to help me." It broke my heart (and pissed me off) to think of him standing there unable to do it himself, and being excluded from the fun because of our inability to attend. If they are going to have these ridiculous activities, that should have enough staffing so that children are not left out.

And don't even get me started with the ridiculous "Red Ribbon Week" or the 100th day of school festivities. (Do children in Kindergarten and 1st grade really care what day they are on??)

OK....too late. The Red Ribbon Week was designed to heighten awareness about drug use. This is commendable. I am glad that the school is taking an active interest in educating our children about the dangers of drugs and alcohol. However, I do not think it is necessary to require the children to have an activity every day of said week. Let's see, there was crazy sock day, wear camouflage day...oh I forget all of them, but suffice it to say that it was a pain in my behind and of no educational value at all to the kids.

I think that the school sets itself up for failure when they feel as though they have to give the kids a reason and incentive to come to school. Whatever happened to going to school, sitting at your desk quietly and learning what you were taught? I'm not suggesting that we didn't do fun, age-appropriate things when I was in school, but those activities were few and far between. I didn't go to school each week expecting to be entertained. I went to school expecting to learn and to be disciplined when I didn't live up to my potential.

If kids think that they are entitled to this sort of environment, what are we going to do with them when they are older and the stakes are higher? To what lengths will the school district have to go to keep them interested and engaged at school? I want Nathan to attend school to learn what he needs to know to graduate from high school and then to go on to college. I don't want him to be entertained...I want him to be educated.

Blessed

I had such a good day yesterday. Gracie crept into my bedroom at 6:15 am with the intention of getting into bed with me. I was on to her and pretended that I was still asleep to see what she would do. She laid down on the floor next to my bed and quietly talked to herself for a few minutes. When I rolled around to get her attention, she popped up like a jack-in-the-box and slipped between the covers with a sweet little grin.

Nathan met me halfway down the hall as I was stumbling towards the kitchen to tell me happy Mother's day. It was as though he had lain there awake waiting to hear me get up so he could be the first to say it. We had powdered doughnuts and milk for breakfast because it took the least amount of effort on my part, but the kids thought it was a wonderful treat.

Trevor had left my gift and cards on the counter the night before and I opened them with the kids. They chose a Willow Tree box with a family of four carved on the front, and Nathan and Grace both signed my card. Trevor deposited a generous sum of money in my fun account to spend at my leisure. At first I was set on getting a professional Kitchen-Aid stand mixer since the one I have is the base model and starting to show it. Then I started thinking that I might get a new digital camera. I still haven't decided, but either way it will be a good purchase.

I was outside on the deck drinking my coffee when I heard the phone ring. It was Courtney calling to wish me a happy Mother's Day. This is her first one with Jack and I was glad to have a chance to talk to her. I love it that she has a baby now and that we have that in common. We don't agree on everything, but raising kids is one thing that we both see in the same light. I am so glad that she has a great husband and a beautiful baby boy...she deserves good things and I'm glad that her life is so blessed.

Click to play Make your own Smilebox

After church, Trevor cooked lunch and we had a relaxing afternoon together. I took a nice long nap and then spent most of the afternoon outside with the kids. We had taken Trevor's mom out Saturday night so we could celebrate with her, leaving Sunday open for our little family to spend some time together. We also felt like Charly didn't need to have a house full of people in light of her recent surgery. It worked out perfectly and we really enjoyed the day together.

Thank you Lord. Thank you for my children and for a husband who loves and appreciates me. Thank you for all those moments together as a family that draw us closer to each other and to You. Thank you for all the blessings in my life.

Love and Sacrifice

How can I take one day and attempt to show my mom how much I love her? I can't. It's like Valentines Day...if you have to have a special day to remind you to appreciate your lover, then you don't really appreciate your lover.

I'm one of the lucky ones...I truly love and cherish my mom. She's the first person I want to call when I have good (or bad) news. I trust her judgement and value her opinion. If you had asked me 20 years ago if I would ever feel that way, I would have answered with a resounding "no!" We had a tumultuous relationship when I was a child and adolescent and I hope that when my daughter starts to behave the way I did, that I will respond with half the restraint that Mama did!

I have so many memories of Mama that it's hard to decide which ones to include here. There are so many that are an integral part of who I am that it's almost impossible to explain them. They are like pieces of flesh and blood that have knitted together through the years to form the incredibly visceral feeling that I have when I think of my mom. The feel of her cool hand on my forehead when I was sick, the smell of her skin, the distinctive technique of her fingers on the piano, the comforting sound of her voice murmuring in the living room as I drifted off to sleep in my bedroom. Those things don't sound like very important memories in the grand scheme of things, but they are the ones that make my mom, well, mine.

Throughout my life she has always been there even when I pushed her away in adolescent ignorance. She always forgave me when I overstepped my bounds and said hurtful, mean things to her out of spite and frustration. I didn't realize it at the time, but she was a rich source of wisdom and knowledge. One of my real regrets as an adult is that I didn't listen to my mom more. I could have saved myself so much pain and grief if I had simply relied on her experience, but I suppose that is a regret that most people have.

I credit my mom's perseverance as the primary reason that I have a relationship with the Lord. She made sure that I was dressed and ready to go to church every week. She answered my questions about faith and God. She was an unwavering example of what a Christian should be in all areas of life. God uses many means to draw His elect to Himself, and in my case it was the love and joy that I saw in my own mother's witness.

When I was diagnosed with cancer, I spent two weeks in the hospital recovering from surgery. Mama refused to leave my side until Aunt Gail (the next best thing to Mama!) came to pry her away from me and give her some much needed rest and relaxation. At the time, I didn't really think about what a sacrifice it was for Mama to stay with me like that. Now that I am grown-up with a life and family of my own, I see what a gift that was to put her life on hold to focus on my well-being and health. If there is anyone that you want near you when you have just had surgery, it is my mom. She has this uncanny knack for knowing what you want before you ask for it.

When I found out I was pregnant with Nathan, I had no idea how much his birth would change my relationship with her. I remember laying there in the hospital holding him one night after everyone had gone home and thinking that I had never loved someone this deeply. That's when it occurred to me that Mama felt that way about me. She loved me so deeply that she would sacrifice her very life for me. This intimate knowledge about the nature of motherhood made me love her even more than I thought possible.

So, even though I can't be with my mom today my love still stretches across the miles to her and I know that she is thinking of me too. Thank you for giving me life and for shaping me into the person I am today. I love you, Mama.

She opens her mouth with wisdom,
And on her tongue is the law of kindness.
She watches over the ways of her household,
And does not eat the bread of idleness.
Her children rise up and call her blessed;
Her husband also, and he praises her:
“ Many daughters have done well,
But you excel them all.”
Charm is deceitful and beauty is passing,
But a woman who fears the LORD, she shall be praised.
Give her of the fruit of her hands,
And let her own works praise her in the gates.

Proverbs 31:26-31

Little Moments

I love to mow the lawn. There is something deeply satisfying about that swath of fresh cut grass behind me and the anticipation of mowing over the tall grass in front of me. I can see my progress...I am accomplishing something in a very concrete way. It also feeds my OCD tendencies, but that's a completely different blog topic.

I wish life were more like cutting the grass sometimes. It's hard to see progress in the day to day mediocrity of it all, and it frequently feels like I take three steps forward and two steps back. My life is a cycle of work, sleep and weekends. I often have the guilt that comes with being a mother....am I doing enough for them? Am I doing too much? What kind of memories will they have when they are 35?

Then there are moments when I can see the progress and realize that my life is not mediocre and that I am blazing straight forward with no backward steps. Today was one of the days filled with those moments. Watching Nathan and Gracie play outside in the bright sunshine in a beautiful yard made me thankful to God for giving us such success in our careers. It made me realize that all of the fussing and lecturing about how to treat one another was not time wasted as I saw Nathan playing gently and kindly with his sister. I had another moment as we went out for dinner with Trevor's parents for Mother's Day and observed both my children behaving politely and quietly in the restaurant.

They are small moments to be sure, but moving nonetheless. They are what keep me motivated when the day to day grind starts to get me down. They are the very essence of my life and I would do well to look for them more frequently than I do. I have been blessed beyond measure in this life and it is my duty (and desire) to be thankful and glorify God for all of it.

Thank you God. Thank you for my husband and my children. Thank you for letting me be a part of a family that loves You and that loves each other. Thank you for my job, my church and for my friends. Thank you for my life.

The Spleenless Wonder (Part II)

You guessed it...I'm sick. Gracie had the sinus crud which in turn developed into a mild ear infection for her and bronchitis for me. Whoo hoo. I went to work this morning since I didn't have fever, and took a handful of drugs for the aches and cough. The medication masked the symptoms for most of the morning, and then I took another dose right before noon.

Unfortunately, Nathan had his annual well-child visit at 2 pm, and I needed to take Gracie in as well to get her ears checked out. So, I drove home and discovered that I had exactly 30 minutes before I needed to go get the kids so I laid down on the couch for a power nap. I felt a somewhat better after sleeping for a little while and went to pick up the kids from school and daycare.

On the way to the pediatrician, I realized that I had not packed anything for the kids to do at the doctor's office. I usually stuff Gracie's bag full of crayons (they draw on the exam table paper), books and snacks for both of them. It's easier to keep them bribed and happy than to have a complete meltdown, but in light of my present condition I completely forgot to bring anything for them. I dug down to the bottom of the bag and found one green and one purple crayon...you should have seen the look of disbelief in their eyes! I'm usually the mom with extra everything in the bag (you never know when friends with kids will want to go out for lunch after church); it's like Mary Poppin's carpetbag.

Anyway, they finally got settled with their whopping 2 crayons and all was going well with the examinations until Nathan discovered that he had to get a shot. Now normally I am very tolerant of his shenanigans right before he gets an immunization. After all, I ran and hid from the nurse for years when I was a child. I vividly remember hiding, being seized and then held down in Mama's lap for my shots while Patrick laid calmly and quietly on the exam table to get his. I always felt some shame that I couldn't be as brave as Patrick, but at the time the only thing my brain could focus on was the thought of a long needle being inserted into my behind.

Confession: It wasn't until my diagnoses and subsequent treatment that I got over my fear of needles. Up until I was 19 years old I had a real issue with shots....it took all of my resolve to walk into the campus Quack Shack and voluntarily get my MMR booster when I was 18. But it wasn't until after a full year of needles and procedures (that I will not recount in graphic detail for you here) that I finally got over that particular fear.

So with that in mind, I really should have been more patient with Nathan when the time came for the shot. Unfortunately, I let the fact that I was feeling bad override my mothering instinct and had little sympathy for him. I ended up picking him up and forcing him on the table. I held his arms while the nurse braced his legs. He was so focused on anticipating the shot that he didn't even feel it when it came.

So, a few stickers and $30 later we were on our way home. I put Curious George on the television for the kids and promptly fell asleep on the couch. I was still sleeping when Trevor got home at 5:15 and didn't really wake up again until the pizza came at 7 pm.

So there you have the saga of my illness......I hope that with a good night's sleep (and a healthy dose of NyQuil) I will feel better tomorrow since Trevor will be gone all day at his concealed handgun class.

Fads and Fashion Trends

I hate fads. This is something that has developed over the years as the gap between my age and that of the next generation has widened. Although I was never one to jump on the bandwagon when something new came along, I did indulge in the fads of the time as I was growing up. Let's see.....big bangs, fluorescent shirts, friendship pins (then later, bracelets), colored Keds, drop waist dresses and shoulder pads. Yes, I have participated in more fads than I want to admit or remember, but I can't help the way I feel.

If I see one more child roll by on those horrible Heely shoes...well, I won't do more than sigh and shake my head since I can't control the universe. They really annoy me...kids are oblivious anyway and when you give them wheels to go faster it just makes it worse because now they jet out in front of people without looking. At least before you could get out of the way or at least predict the speed at which they were going to take you out.

Don't even get me started on the Razor scooters. "The Consumer Product Safety Commission (CPSC) issued a report on September 5, 2000, indicating that more than 9,400 scooter-related injuries requiring emergency-room visits had been reported in the first eight months of 2000, including more than 4,000 in August alone when the product was introduced." Ding ding ding! Dangerous toy! I may be a nerdy mom, but I am not letting Nathan or Grace on one of those things....ever. They can whine, cry and say that they hate me but that is a hard and fast rule.

I also don't like the trend of kids (and adults alike) wearing flip-flops everywhere they go. Apparently they go with every outfit, because I've seen them on people dressed in beach attire all the way up to slacks and a button down shirt. What is up with that? Flip-flops used to be what you put on in summer camp when you had to walk from the bathhouse back to your cabin, or when you had to walk from your car to the pool. I'm not sure where this particular trend came from, but it really bothers me. It's not the wearing of flip-flops that I have a problem with (I have a pair by the back door for quick trips out to the backyard), it's the fact that there is no sense of appropriateness when they are worn. But once again , I don't control the universe (for good reason) and all I can do is roll my eyes and sigh. Again.

The real question remains: When I was a child did adults get as irritated by fashion trends and fads as I do now? Maybe it's just a signal that I'm finally a grown-up. Or maybe I'm just too opinionated.....who knows? But this is my blog and I can say whatever I want, so there!

Cartoon Character du Jour

It's hard to believe that today is the last day of April. Where is the year going? Wasn't it just Christmas? It seems like Nathan's birthday was just last weekend, and now Gracie's is looming just over the horizon. I need to start planning and ordering things for her party or it will sneak up on me and I will have nothing done.

She wanted (as much as an almost 2 year old can want) a Curious George themed party last year, so that's what we had. Then over the past year she became enamoured with Dora the Explorer. If the television was on, she was watching Dora. She had Dora backpacks, coloring books, dolls, figurines and DVDs. Her little life was Dora. But in recent months the fickle pendulum of childhood has moved back to Curious George. She loves the movie and the PBS series. She doesn't even mention Dora anymore. Poor Dora.....tossed to the side in favor of a monkey.

So, I guess we'll be doing a Curious George party again. I think my children have a defective gene that makes them want the same theme at least 2 years in a row. Nathan had a love affair with Buzz Lightyear that lasted from his 4th to 5th birthday and yes, we had two Buzz Lightyear themed parties. I tried in vain to talk him out of it, but he was adamant. Within a few months of his 5th birthday he had tired of Buzz and retired all of those toys to the closet. His new love was Cars, and he left Buzz in the dust.

I wonder were we will be next year? Will Grace love Dora again (please...no!) or will she want Disney princesses? Will Nathan want Cars or will he have moved on to more mature subject matter like Transformers or Superman? It's funny how I mark the years with the cartoon character du jour, but I'm glad that they are still kids and acting like it. I'm going to be so sad the year that Nathan comes and informs me that he is too old for "baby" parties. That he wants to go do something with his friends (the obvious point being that I am not a part of that group). All I can pray is that God will give me the grace to let him go and spread his wings a little.