A most precious sound

Our little 16 month old, Matthew, was once again on the table.  This time it was because a chair had been left untucked and there were some legos to be had.  No matter how much we say no or spank, he loves to stand on the table.  Recently, though, we find him scooting back into the chair when we tell him to.

David has a way of getting quite annoyed when Matthew goes on the table to get his legos.  And this morning, while I was busy in the kitchen, Matthew was pushed off.  It started with a yell of, " No!  Stop!"  Then thud, cry.  "I tried to catch him, mom", from Emory.  The precious sound was to come later...

Matthew had a red oval on his forehead and he went directly to bed for a nap.  It was time anyway.

When I came down, David was sitting on the bench, as I had instructed.  The bench is our discipline spot-makes the perfect time-out seat and paddling area.  It is removed from the rest of the house and usually clear from debris.  I told David he was to have a paddle for what he did.  We then talked about it.  I went and got the paddle.

When I returned I watched him as he saw the paddle in my hand.  "I'm sorry, Mommy".  "I know you are, sweetie.  You need a paddle now".  I paddled him twice-just the right hurt for his little hiney.  He doesn't need a hard paddle.  Just seeing it really is probably enough.  I hugged him and he hugged me.  I told him I love him and I don't like to paddle, but I had to so he could remember not to push his baby brother off the table, or chair for that matter.  David was sad, he said it didn't hurt and held back tears, which is his normal reaction.  So tough.  4 this coming Friday.

About 10 minutes later I see the little boy in the corner of the kitchen.  He asks for something and I answer.  He then says, "Mommy, are you still mad at me?"  "No, honey.  I forgive you".  A visible wave of peace washes over his face.

Did I mention I love being a mommy?  What better place to hear the voice of Christ.  So precious.

This Little Light

What inspires me?  What gets me passionate?  I don't mean horses, difficult hikes with a great view or the reemergence of Spring.  What things stir an energy for change?

Right now it is this:  http://www.freedom.firm.in/

And this:  http://www.songlyrics.com/andrew-peterson/light-for-the-lost-boy/

And this: http://www.chaponline.com/


Ok I'll take break from c/v.  It's a new trick for me :-).

Oh, and one more: http://www.glutenfreegoddess.blogspot.com/


Sorry-this is somewhat of a journal that I can look back over and see that I was in fact inspired.
Last night I found myself in a place of deep un-inspiration.  My light was fading.  Why am I a mother?  Why do I get up and do it all over again?  It's not pretty.  It's not clean.  It's never done or complete.  But, there are those things that come along and make my little light shine brighter.  People too-I have a list of them.

Here's another thing that really ignites my flame- "Mommy where's my knife?"-and I know.  Then 30 seconds later, "Where's my sheath?"  And I know.  Except he says it more like "Where's my sheaf". He's not even 4, after all.

Even though the work is never done-oftentimes not even started, I really like being a mother.  I like being with my kids.  I like knowing what they know and watching them learn what I know.  I like-no love-having four little boys who are not men yet.  Who are excitable and silly and skinny.  They fight and cry and run, run, run.  They want to be held and eat way too much sugar.

Jesus found my heart and is changing it into His-and He loves little children.  Lord, give me eyes to see what you see and to learn what you know.  Help me, Father, to get up again and again, to never be finished and yet be inspired.

Rotavirus is Temporary

One of the hardest thing in a Mother's day to day is having sick little ones.  I'm not referring to cancer or serious diseases, I'm talking about the normal bugs of childhood.  Although, at any given moment these bugs seem that they have the capability to kill a child.
Recently we have had the exhaustive experience of bronchitis-Simon.  And then we have Rotavirus.  Both scary.  As my mothering experience widens I have realized there is no reason to panic. Things subside, kids heal, eat again.  But there are always those moments when the fear gets the better of me.  Not long lasting, but fear-dark and numb.
David is our bird.  Eats little, is little.  He's in the 5th percentile.  He scares me the most when he is sick.  Looks like a little Haulocost victim.  30lbs and almost 4 (next week).

Yesterday after writing the above stuff David seemed sicker.  He's better this am.  Note to self-PEDIALYTE!!!!!!!!!!!!!   No water-no soy milk-no juice.  If they won't drink-ok-just push the pedialyte untill they will.  Use a syringe to give 5cc at a time until they will drink on their own.  If they won't eat-ok.  But don't offer anything other than pedialyte until you KNOW they are better.

Mom and Dad stopped over yesterday and brought a bunch of stuff-more pedialyte, milk, dinner, chicken-which I better put in the freezer, paper towels, laundry soap, pasta.  So helpful.  And I'm snapping a lot at Dave.  I think having our kids be sick is such a test of faith and endurance.  I fail at both.  But at these times-I'm so thankful to have God.  To know he loves my kids-and lets them get sick.  I'm so thankful for the nurses at the Dr.'s office-Eileen- who care and call me back, who are smart and mature and get me squeezed in to see the doc.  I'm thankful for Pedialyte.  I'm thankful for Emory-who is joyful and home and loving.  I'm thankful for Dave who is supportive and sympathetic and hardworking.  I'm grateful for the many, many days that the children are healthy and loud and running everywhere.

Oh, Lord, please help me to remember how it feels to have a sick child!  Please help me to know that when they are well-we are in plenty!  Don't let go of me-help me to remember how precious they are when they are well.  Help me not to care about the dishes and toys and dirty floor.  Give me the supernatural power to care for them and trust your hand in this illness.  Help me to be perseverant as they need a loving mommy!

I need you, Lord Jesus.  Without your holy Spirit and strength, I can not be what I should.

To homeschool?

Here I am again.  The undecided mother.  I think God wants me to homeschool.  But knowing how hard it will be and how I often struggle with depression-would it be best for our family?  Would it be best for me?  Would it really be best for the boys?

I keep going over the pros and cons list in my head.  Trying to talk about it with anyone feels like a maelstrom of thought.  So many many pros.  But can I do it?  Will God come through when I can't?  Will he really keep me from hurting the kids when I am down and out?  It's hard to put this into type-knowing the thoughts and words won't disappear the minute their thought.  I often admire people who can be so frank in their blogs.

Well, maybe I'll just type out my pros and cons then.  Maybe that will help me sort it out.

Homeschooling Pros

1. A natural rhythm to the time we spend learning/playing.  No set 8 hr schedule concocted by a governing body with the mass in mind first.

2. Allowing my children to learn what they have passions for and dive into them without restraint.

3. Knowing what my kids are learning.  Both from a Christian standpoint and a practical standpoint.  If they are struggling, I'll know where and can help them or find help.

4. Open schedule for our family.

5. Joy in seeing the light bulbs go on and bonding with the boys in our teaching.

6. Kids not burnt out from long days and homework.

7. Involvment in a co-op where kids can make friends/support for me.

8. Training for the kids in our home with each other-forming deeper bonds and choosing our life
experiences.

9. Less unwanted peer influence.

Public School Pros

1.  More personal time for me.

2. Someone else does the work and teaches when my child is difficult.

3.  Social group and friendships form-children feel part of a group.

4. Our tax dollars at work

5. Encouragement and insight from teachers (which is limited due to large class size, but helpful).

6. Training for kids in a public setting for future challenges and allowing some autonomy away from me for the day.  Ex: Learning to get along and love people from ALL walks.



Well, this is what I have so far.  I don't think the longer list wins or anything.  These are just the thought swirling around in my brain.  I'm sure I'll add to the lists.  Maybe I should do the cons next.

Now I will pray.  I'm grateful that Dave will join me in this.  Lord, please offer me wisdom on this subject.  Help me to be courageous no matter which thing we choose.  Help me to love you first and with all I am.

Fluffy

As a mother it is my job to pretty much keep everyone alive.  I feed.  I assess health.  I dispense medication, vitamins, probiotics.  I seatbelt and supervise teeth brushing.  And of course, I maintain the lives of plants and pets.  Plants, well, I go through a few per year.  Pets, they're a bit heartier.

We have a gecco who doesn't have to eat very often.  They say she (the pet guy told us how to know it is a girl) can live off the fat in her tail so I make it to the store for crickets about once a month.  Then there's the cat.  I love our kitty-Violet.  She was named by my 6 year old, Emory.  A sweet little thing who will bother you endlessly if her food dish is not full.  Then there is Daisy.  Daisy is, well, was our first hamster.  Bought with his own money, Emory got Daisy about 2 and 1/2 months ago.  She was still rather new.

Well, she didn't make it.  As you can imagine a 6 year old isn't great at taking care of a pet.  So I fed her when I remembered.   Daisy loved to empty her food dish as soon as I'd fill it up.  She, like any hamster, would hoard all her grain in her little burrow.   So it was hard to tell when she needed more.  So hard, that she didn't have any and she starved.  I felt awful.  Last night when I found her little body-still soft, I dreaded telling Emory.  How do you tell your little son that you killed his pet?  I felt like I failed.

I told him this morning and he handled it so well.  It was like a mini death.  I watched as he was shocked and upset, then wondered how and why.   He was curious to see the body and joked a little with his brothers.  He spoke of God and how He "knew".  It amazed me.  The entire grief period took about 30 minutes.  Then we buried Daisy in a shallow, marked grave and said some words of prayer.

A mini death.  A mini grief.  A mini funeral.  I love minitures.

Now we have Fluffy.  We got her this morning after burying Daisy.  She's really cute.  And she has a much bigger food dish.

Recently I've seen a few friends go through some really hard times while losing a loved one.  Death is so weird, yet the experience is so universal.  Everyone grieves in their own unique way because we are all unique.  But God does know-even the mini deaths.  And he gives the grace one needs.  A hamster is by no means a person.  And replacing the hamster certainly helped my son's (and my) heart to overcome.  But I think His grace is even sufficient in the big ones.

One day I will lose someone dear.  So will Emory.  I hope God's grace will be sufficient for me then.

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                                                     At our cabin July 2012

Dave and I often joke about the crazy situations our boys present to us.  I say I'm going to write a book and each chapter title will be one of their many exploits.  A few years ago, Simon who is now 8, had a squishy, sticky alligator toy.  Somehow it ended up stuck to our 9 foot living room ceiling.  And it was up there for a while-maybe a week.  After it finally fell down, there was an oily alligator print reminding me of it's position.  Gotta love dollar store toys.

Alligators on the Ceiling.  That's the title of my blog.  It brings a smile to my face.  A trick I've learned-or maybe just a survival technique-is I have to find the good in all situations.  My prayer is that this will stay with me.

Our ceiling now has a new, clean coat of white paint.  No more alligator print.  At the time I was annoyed that the cheap, rubber toy made it's home on my ceiling.   Relief when it fell was replaced by irritation at the stain.  But it WAS funny.  And each situation allows for some laughter.  Maybe as the boys grow I can learn to better see each predicament as a silly, transient experience to hold in my heart.

"But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart",  Luke 2:19