Starbucks, We Have a Problem

I have been drinking way too much coffee lately; coffee is one of my go to comfort items and with my fibro flaring and getting sick a few times after losing our baby in September, we'll just say that there is some in the coffee pot more often than not these days. 

The problem is that my three year old Luke is just like his mama in his love for the beverage and despite my attempts to get him off it, his java addiction remains.  His usual modus operandi is to sneak coffee from other people's cups so the unsuspecting mug owner looks down to find theirs either gone or at a significantly lower level.  People are most often surprised to find that he likes it and shocked to learn that he screams, "NEED COFFEE!!!" if I have it and refuse to give him some (this is decaf too, might I add, just in case you were concerned).

The general consensus for treatment was to give him black coffee and then he'd get over it really fast.  I was about to try it when it happened unintentionally one day without success.

Luke pulled over a chair to get to the coffee pot with cold, black coffee in it and had at it.  I think I have the only preschooler on the planet that likes black coffee, room temperature nonetheless.  At least it was decaf...  So, the black coffee deterrent method is a no go so anyone have any other ideas? 

Moving Forward

I wanted to take this opportunity to thank everyone for their support and patience over the past month and a half since we lost our precious baby.  I truly appreciate it and I cannot express enough how much this has meant to me.  I can honestly say that this has been the hardest time in my life and while I am doing much better now, I still definitely have moments. 

Physically, I've been struggling to get healthy since we lost the baby;  the miscarriage caused my fibro to flare up and my immune system to crash so I've spent the past few month and a half dealing with bronchitis and sinus infections.  Emotionally, I cannot yet walk through the baby section at Target or even by the maternity clothes department at Kohl's.  I notice every pregnant lady around me and didn't expect to break down in tears when I found out a friend is due the same week I would have been despite the fact I am so excited for them.  I also don't think our culture knows how to deal with grief very well; it isn't a comfortable topic for most people and thus we tend to resort to anecdotal sayings in hope of comforting the person.  Being on this side of it now, I have to admit that the most comforting thing for me was people just gave me a hug and told me that they are praying for me and my family.  One friend admitted to me that she didn't know what to say as we cried together and really, she didn't need to say anything. 

After staring at a wall and crying for far too long, I felt like I needed to do something with my grief.  Hence began my search for a sapphire ring since that is September's birthstone which, as Brian said, to focus on the time that we did have rather than the time when our baby would have been born.  Me, in my ignorance, thought I was asking for a cheap ring probably no more than $30 for a nice one (feel free to insert sarcastic laughter).  I did find one as high as $1200 which made me laugh inwardly since I remembered the quote, "Is that dollars?  $1200?!!!  A cake is flour and water!  My first car didn't cost $1200!"  Good old Father of the Bride...  Probably a good thing that I didn't quote it out loud though.

While looking for a ring, I realized that jewelry cases are extremely tempting for children to press their faces against thus leaving scary looking facial imprints.  Specific children also enjoy trying on jewelry.  That would explain why some jewelers have areas set up for children with coloring books and crayons.

Seriously though, I found a fabulous one on sale at Kohl's for not too much above what I was originally planning thanks to a sale and I wear it often in remembrance our baby and God's goodness even when things aren't good.  God's grace has definitely been poured down on us in the form of friends and family who have stood by us, been there, and encouraged us as we move forward.  Thanks again.

Mountains and Valleys

The past almost two weeks have been filled with very high peaks and deep valleys.

Brian and I found out that we were going to have another baby and we were absolutely excited. 

Last Tuesday, I lost our precious baby.  We went from such elation to profound sorrow in so short of a time and my grief has been the deepest valley I have ever walked through.  All of our dreams for this baby were cut short; I am heartbroken that I will never get to cuddle our little one or see Ethan and Luke play with their sibling.  Watching Ethan grieve too has been wrenching.

One of my favorite worship songs has been running through my mind since this happened:

Blessed be your name
In the land that is plentiful
Where the streams of abundance flow
Blessed be your name

He gives and takes away
He gives and takes away
My heart will choose to say
Blessed be your name

In my grief, the lines "He gives and takes away" really speaks to me.  For whatever reason, God chose to give us the amazing gift of a precious baby and then take it away.  We don't know why this happened but even in our grief, we choose to bless His name since I know God is still good.  In anything hard, we have the choice to either react to or against God.  My choice is simple: to either grow closer to God in the hard times or blame Him for something I don't understand.  I've spent a lot of time in prayer over the past nearly two weeks that have been some of the hardest times of my life.

In our grief, I haven't been able to write or much else.  I've been so thankful for amazing friends and family and especially my husband who has been incredibly supportive.  This is the first time that I have actually felt like writing since and so I hope to continue to blog but I will probably be somewhat sporadic as I continue to grieve and recover especially all of the stress caused a fibro flare up.  We would appreciate your prayers as we continue to grieve our precious baby.  Thanks.

Getting Crafty

My sister in-law is getting married this week and I'm privileged to be one of her bridesmaids.  As one of my duties, I made the bow bouquet for the rehearsal from the bows and ribbons from the gifts from one of her showers.  Since she is registered at Pottery Barn, there were a bunch of beautifully wrapped gifts from there all sporting the same sage green grosgrain ribbon and silk flower embellishment.  And that is about where I started to get carried away...

All the ribbons, flowers and bows matched.  They seemed far too fun to just tape them on a paper plate.  So I had to do something pretty with them right?

I started with making the white ribbon into ribbon rosettes by hand stitching them and I thought they came out super cute.  All I had to do was to gather and circularly attach one side of the ribbon and a rosette was born.  I think I was a little too proud of myself for being able to do it even though my hands hurt from the fibro pain after a little while with it but it was a small victory in crafty-ness for me.

I used a Styrofoam ball and wooden dowel to make the form of the bouquet and started by hot gluing the green ribbon over it. 

I wired the ribbon with florist's wire to stick into the Styrofoam.  Yay for needle-nose pliers!  These ended up being my must-have tool since my fingers were getting raw from twisting the wire and then forcing the ends into the Styrofoam until I realized that the pliers could grip it for me.  Revolutionary.  The long green ribbons ended up looking really fluffy and foliage-like as I tucked the loops around the "flowers".

At this point, I started to get excited since it actually looked like a bouquet and not just a mess of ribbons and bows.  My fear that this would turn out to be an embarrassing wad was beginning to look like it might have been unfounded.

I wrapped the dowel "stems" with another ribbon, added a charm that was on one of the gifts, and tied a bow.  This was all held together with pretty much all the glue that my glue gun came with when I purchased it.  So, if a little is good and more is better, then all of it has to be the ideal, right?  I think I got a little heavy handed with it but there was no way I wanted that thing to fall apart after spending hours working on it.  And what is more, my sister in-law loved it when I gave it to her early since my boys were taking a keen interest in it.  I think they thought that it looked like a great alternative weapon to battle with instead of only light sabers.  While I was being crafty, they were trying to figure out how to destroy things; there is a profound difference between girls and boys.

Happy crafting!

Christmas in September?

I would like to formally register my complaint:

Friday night, Brian, Ethan, Luke and I went to Kohl's and noticed all the seasonal displays; very fun but the wrong season given that one of the displays featured Christmas tress and ornaments.  I would like to note that Fall officially starts on September the 23rd this year according to my calendar.  Christmas occurs in winter, last time I checked.  According to my math, this display is up more than three months before the actual holiday occurs.  That is one quarter of the year spent with Christmas decorations available for purchase at our local Kohl's.

I now have proof that Christmas is starting earlier and earlier each year.  I used to think it was bad when the Christmas decorations came out the day after Halloween since it seemed like Thanksgiving was being swallowed up by the ravenously hungry reindeer but now it seems that Halloween is a casualty too.  I mean, we haven't even had school pictures yet!  And my boys are already asking about getting out tree up...

This time of year should be spent drinking pumpkin spice lattes and enjoying the beauty God created in the changing colors of the leaves and giving thanks for everything He has provided.  Somehow, beginning the focus on the commercial takeover of the holiday of Christ's birth really ruins it for me.  It bothers me that we, as a culture, have to be continually be looking out for the next best and great thing without being able to appreciate all that we have been blessed with, hence my soapboxy rant.  It is my sneaking suspicion that the retailers believe that this Christmas is going to be so weak that they need to start now to get everyone "in the spirit".  But, that's not the real spirit of Christmas.

Boston in the Fall

"We are the pirates who don't do anything
We just stay at home and lie around
And if you ask us to do anything
We'll just tell you we don't do anything

And I've never hoist the main sail
And I've never swabbed the poop deck
And I never veer to starboard
'Cause I never sail at all

And I've never walked the gangplank
And I've never owned a parrot
And I've never been to Boston in the fall

Well I've never plucked a rooster
And I'm not too good at ping ball
And I've never thrown my mashed potatoes
Up against the wall

And I've never kissed a chipmunk
And I've never gotten head lice
And I've never been to Boston in the fall."

-The Pirate Who Don't Do Anything, originally from Veggie Tales silly songs

I've been singing this song incessantly for the past couple weeks as my mantra, a sort of bucket list if you will, since this past weekend, Brian and I were able to go to Boston in the Fall... sort of since Autumn doesn't start until next week officially.  And yes, almost the entire time I was there, this song was running through my head in a sort of gleeful way.  It really is the little things in life.

Irony seems to follow me everywhere though so it should come as no surprise that I was so excited about being in Boston that I didn't realize where we were the moment we got off the subway in the middle of the city.  We walked right through the place where the Boston Massacre happened as we tried to figure out what we should see first.

The Boston Massacre happened right in the middle of the intersection behind me.

Where I grew up in Southern California, something is considered "old" if it is 50 years old and "ancient" if it is from a hundred years prior.  On the East Coast, not so much...  Paul Revere's house is currently 330 years old.  Of course, we had to take a picture of architect Brian in front of the old building:



Paul Revere's House

Brian and I were incredibly excited to get to eat at the oldest restaurant in the country, Ye Olde Union Oyster House, which was established in 1826.  We had the best clam chowder there which is probably the reason for its nearly two hundred years of continuous service.

Walking through another part of the city, we stumbled upon Louisa May Alcott's childhood home in Beacon Hill.  She was the author of the famous Little Women and subsequent books about her beloved characters.  She was one of my most favorite authors when I was little and definitely one of the ones responsible for my addiction to literature and hence my love of writing.


Me next to Louisa May Alcott's House

Boston has to be now one of my most favorite cities and this past weekend was a huge adventure.  Though, I think I need to go back sometime actually in the Fall to be able to say I did that.  I am grateful to the Pirates Who Don't Do Anything for the inspiration!  Hopefully, the song will encourage some new adventures, but if it comes down to it, I really don't feel like kissing a chipmunk and would prefer to never experience lice.  I'll stick with Boston in the Fall.

Brian is a great photographer, don't you think?!

Larry Boy on Sale!

One of Ethan's favorite movies is Veggie Tales:  Larry Boy and the Bad Apple which is about fighting temptation.  It even mentions the temptation of playing too many video games and eating too much chocolate which happen to be Matthew and Stephen's vices, respectively.  And, as I am always a sucker for really good deals, I noticed that it was on sale for $4.99 at christianbook.com.  Click here to check it out. 

My boys very seldom watch television and instead are VeggieTales connoisseurs which makes me happy since I know it is reinforcing what I am trying to teach them.  Especially at this young age, I think it is incredibly important what I allow them to watch; in my psychology classes in college we talked about how research seems to show that personality is set by the time a child turns five years old.  Sometimes, it feel like they don't quite understand everything I try to teach them but I know it is getting in there and that statistic is a huge encouragement to keep trying.  Having them in an environment saturated with God's love is necessary especially at this age to shape their hearts towards the saving grace of Christ Jesus.  So, thank goodness for VeggieTales and even more when they are on sale!

I Can't Believe I Said That

As I was trying to think of something deeper to write on, I was far too distracted by my incredibly aching body to come up with anything meaningful.  And while one might think this is just another episode of fibromyalgia, it actually isn't and my pain is all due to a stupid mommy decision:  I played "horsey" with the kids for far longer than I should have.  Ironically, as I was doing it, I was joking with Brian that playing with the kids like that gives me 42 and 36 pounds, respectively, worth of weight training as well as cardio.  Now, about two hours after playtime, my abs are so sore that I can barely make myself sit up. 

And this got me thinking about another one of my not-so-grand moments. 

Not too long ago, Luke was running amok at Target and I literally told him to act like a grown up.  Yup.  I still can't believe that I said that.

He looked at me so funny, I could see the thoughts running through that two year old mind going, "I thought so but now I know for sure: she really is crazy!"

And while I apologized for being way too demanding and he thought it was funny, I am really thankful that there is grace for my failings.  Even though I mess up as a parent periodically, God is still in control and I hope that my ability to acknowledge stuff to my kids will help them see the work that God is doing in me.  That and they can laugh at me for not being able to move from playing too much "horsey" like I know they will tomorrow!

Midnight Musings

Last night, at about 8:30, I was sitting in the JFK airport in New York waiting for my flight to get home.  Brian and I took a mini-vacation over the weekend and on the way home, I realized that I needed to write something to post this morning since I hadn't worked in advance quite enough to ensure that everything would go on uninterrupted.

As I mentally began the writing process and was drawing a blank, I asked Brian who was very involved in the Ravens vs. Jets game at the time.  It took several attempts to get his attention, specifically due to Flacco's interceptions and being sacked in which Seth started to yell at the screen (guess who Seth's fantasy football quarterback is), I asked, "What should I post about?"

"You don't have anything scheduled?  Don't worry about it; it is going to be too late and you are just going to want to go to bed."

"But, I have too!  I can't just have nothing new up!  I said I would post every day except weekends and holidays!  I need to get something up!"

"But, no one is going to care if you are a few hours later."

While I was about to thank him for his overwhelming vote of confidence, the conversation ended because something else happened in which Seth's fantasy football points went even more negative.

By the time we got into our city, to our car, and picked up the boys, I was feeling really tired much like someone had predicted.  On the drive home, at 12:22 am, I started musing on the fact that more bugs were out than normal and found it very amusing that they were flying into the headlights of our car.  At 12:24 am, I thought I saw a deer with only one leg though it just turned out to be a mailbox.  I don't know why I was so worried about the one legged deer running in front of our car...  And, at 12:25 am, I started wondering why we say "a healthy portion" which really means that it is just a big portion and probably not at all actually "healthy".  And yet, we never say "an unhealthy portion".  This led us into a discussion of all the weird ways we say things in the English language, especially all the ways to make things negative like the prefixes un-, non-, and ir-.  After midnight, the question of why we need all these ways seemed to be extremely important and kind of funny.

By the time we arrived home, I realized, using my last bit of function gray matter, I was in no condition to write anything coherent as per above musings.  So, I am late posting this morning, but on the plus side, it is evidence of how things are definitely funnier really late a night.

Adventures on the Home Front

Brian is away on a business trip so I have been holding down the fort here at home taking care of the kids, getting Ethan to school, cleaning, doing laundry, and taking care of mouse traps.

I always have a harder time falling asleep when Brian is gone and so after lying awake for way too long, I finally started to doze off when, SNAP!  There was an incredibly loud thwacking sound from downstairs that completely freaked me out since it was midnight and no one enjoys being startled out of their sleep by a noise that shouldn't be there.  As I tried to figure out what to do like grab my phone and hysterically call someone, grab the kids and run out of the house screaming and then be "that neighbor", or grab the nearest heavy or blunt object I could find and go surprise whatever made the noise, it dawned on me that before Brian left, he set some mouse traps. These traps had been out all week after my run with a little wannabe pantry raider that left me standing on my desk chair looking for an object to throw.  Hence the loud snap/thwacking sound.  There is now one less mouse in the world. 

So, I felt kind of stupid when I realized that my sudden paranoia was exactly that: paranoia.  So, in spite of my intentions to get to bed early, I was up well past midnight.  I decided that I would wait until morning to take care of the mouse but, again, in spite of my intentions, I forgot until both of the boys were up and eating breakfast.  Fortunately, neither of them asked my why I was carrying the plastic bag around the house and why I needed to take it into the garage in my attempt to shield my two normally very curious children from pathetically squished mouse.  I think God had something to do with that sudden abatement of curiosity. 

In a very strange sort of way, I felt very...capable (I was going to say "womanly" but that seems funny in regards to cleaning up a dead mouse!) that I could handle the random and definitely not so fun tasks of being an adult and taking care of home without having to resort to calling my husband to clean up the mouse to "facilitate" the taking care of home (read: pass the buck).  While Brian is out there having his business adventures, we here on the home front are having adventures of a different kind.  Kind of like a safari, just with very non-exotic animals that don't happen to be alive and they are some that you would rather not see in the first place.  Okay, so not like a safari but labeling it that sounds cool.

On a side note, I'm really glad that Luke didn't find out what happened since right now, he is going through a huge Mickey Mouse phase and that probably would have scarred the poor child finding out what happened to one of his cousins since any mouse right now is "Mickey".  Have a wonderful and mouse-free week!

Community

I was so excited Thursday morning; one of my good friends and I invited the other moms from our kids' kindergarten classes to a get together and people actually came!  Yes, I know it seems that I have low expectations if I am excited just because more than me and my friend came but moving on.  It was so fun getting to meet the moms of the kids Ethan is going to be spending the next 13 years with as they go through kindergarten, elementary, middle and high school.  All the other moms that came seemed really excited too to be get to know everyone else and thanked us for putting it together and the consensus is that we need to do it again.

People are hard wired to need to be in community which is one of the reasons I am really excited about reaching out to the other moms.  We need to be connected to others, to feel loved, to be held accountable, to be encouraged and to just have someone to just share life with.  It is why the church is designed as it is; people need this for their faith as it says in Proverbs 27:17 "As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another."  But, this is the very reason that believers need to be involved with the greater community too.  It is the whole "salt and light" concept that allows people to see Christ's love.

I'm so excited that the other moms from Ethan's kindergarten class seem to want to be involved in community too.  We can really only make a difference if we are truly involved in other people's lives in a graceful and loving way as a true friend.  And, as someone once said to me, someone's friend roster can never be too full!

Naptime

It is really ironic that when you are little and blessed with the opportunity for ample sleep, you don't want it and when you are grown, all you want is to be able to sleep.  This has been quite evident in our house the past two weeks as Ethan comes home exhausted from kindergarten and, like clockwork, protests within 1-4 seconds with, "BUT I'M NOT SLEEPY!!!" every time I mention that he is tired.

 

Yet, he keeps falling asleep in strange places.  He once went to get a blanket to cuddle up with on the couch and never made it back to the couch from the pile of folded blankets in the corner.  Brian has also re-read multiple chapters of Tolkien's "The Hobbit" since story time is a sure-fire way to end up with a sleeping child.

My friends and I used to joke that sleep was over-rated... until we had kids.  Those first few weeks of insane sleep deprivation made me understand why depriving someone of sleep is sometimes used as torture.  But, you would think I am torturing my kids by forcing the issue of naptime. 

I suppose submitting to one's need for sleep is a mark of maturity although my boys don't really believe me that one day, they too will want to take a nap.  And on those loud, crazy days especially when they scream when I even mention anything having to do with resting, I find myself constantly thanking God for naptime since it means that mommy gets quiet too.

Don't get me wrong; I love my kids and really enjoy spending time with them.  I just need to recharge.  I can't be a good mom unless I'm taking care of myself and too much chaos just drains me.  And when I'm drained, I don't have anything to give.  The first thing usually to go is my patience, unfortunately- something my boys really need from me.

So, I'll take naptime, however it comes.  We all do better when we are well rested.  And these quiet moments are far better than when you know they are awake and it suddenly gets very quiet.  Those kind of quiet moments I think I'll be on guard for!

Thinking Outside the Box with Cushions

My two year old son, Luke, is a creative soul.  He is the child that always has a plan and it usually is indicative of "out of the box" type thinking.  As a result, I have been trying to make sure my camera is ready at all times in order to capture these moments for posterity.  The latest installment:

Luke wanted to wash his hands in our powder room but decided to forgo the step stool we have provided for him under the pedestal sink and instead opted for the couch cushions.  He was quite comfortable while reclining and washing except for the moment he almost slid off trying to smile for the camera.  And, in true mom fashion, I said, "Smile! Now, don't do that again!"  I will use this as a reminder to continue to pray for his safety every night.

It really is no wonder that people keep telling me that I need to keep my eyes on that one!

On the Origin of Physics

This past week I read an article how Stephen Hawking, the noted physicist, published a book called "The Grand Design" and in it, he says that physics can explain the creation of the universe rather than attributing it to God.  As I read the article, I had to laugh.

"The creation of the universe can be explained by physics?  Y' think?!!!" was my response.

Seriously though, it really grieves me that for being such a smart man, Hawking lacks wisdom and is quite unable to see the forest through the trees.  He thinks that faith and science are incompatible ideologies when in essence, science is simply the empirical study of the world in which we live.  It can inform us of the "how" but not of the "why".  Physics are the "how", not the "why".

The existence of physical laws, particularly gravity that Hawking relies heavily upon in his assertions, is not an end in and of itself as Hawking seems to think.  His premise is that these can and do exist in a self-substantive way .  While Hawking is an atheist and refuses to credit God, he does indeed worship something and the object of his worship is physics. 

Logically, the existence of the scientific laws is just as problematic as the existence of the world. They are part of the world; scientific models of how things work.  The "why" of the existence of physics is the same as that of the universe.  Their order and reason is only suggestive of the order and reason of the One who made them.  It should come as absolutely no surprise that the world was created through physics which is an order than comes from the character of our Creator.  God did not simply "poof" our world into being; He made in a way consistent with Himself and the laws of science which He created.  The mere vastness of the world is evidence of the depth beyond comprehension of His character.  God does not need any type of unexplained magic to create; to think otherwise is a denial of the greatness of His character.  While God does have the power to bend his instituted laws resulting in miraculous events, the truly amazing thing is that these laws exist and such order reigns just as God reigns over them.  Hence, God is not incompatible with science, logic, or reason.

The tragedy of the situation is that Hawking succumbs to the temptation to worship the creation instead of the Creator and fails to see God for how simply big He is.

Watch Out For Earl!

Thursday morning while taking Ethan to the bus stop for his third day of school, my phone beeped with a text message from my dad.  He sent me the name of a freelancing website that I might like and told me to watch out for Earl.

I stood there dumbly looking at my phone wondering who this Earl was.  Was he some scammer or something on the website?  Ethan saw me staring at my phone and wanted to know what was going on. 

"I have no idea who Earl is or why I should look out for him but Papa says to so I will," was my answer to my equally confused five year old.

Only later did I realize how this was truly one of my "not the brightest crayon in the box" moments.  I turned on the computer and checked the news when I got home and realized that Hurricane Earl is currently threatening most of the East Coast and though we are a couple hours inland from the Outer Banks of North Carolina, my dad was still concerned for me.  And I was concerned for some weird, sociopath type person named Earl on the website he recommended lest anyone think I am anything too special.  I guess that website is safe after all so thanks, Dad, for the tip!

Bite-Sized Fun

Our local grocery store usually has great manager's specials so when Luke and I went early Wednesday morning after sending Ethan off to kindergarten, we picked up some fun treats for lunch.  Stephen saw a special on potato skins right after I told him he could pick whatever he wanted which meant those glorified french fries came home with us.  I heated them up, grabbed one and went back to unpacking the groceries and left him to eat lunch.

When I came back a minute later to check on him, I noticed that each remaining potato skin had a bite taken out.  Because identical looking potato skins regularly come in different flavors, I suppose.

What isn't pictured though is the fact that the little to go cup of sour cream had been licked clean and my child looked an unusual, creamy white.  Apparently, sour cream is a dish in its own right as well as a condiment.  It is an important reminder that I either need to portion out Luke's allotment rather than allowing him to help himself or be okay with eating already-been-sampled food.  Embarrassingly enough, Ethan, Brian and I all ate some post-Luke without batting an eye.  Such are the culinary adventures in this chicken nugget, mac and cheese, happy meal stage of life.

On the plus side, I did hear Luke voluntarily pray before he ate which definitely makes up for the sour cream finger painting!

When Duty Calls

I've been sick it for what seems like weeks now with what started as a very minor cold nearly a month ago and then turned into a sinus infection which decided to make its way down into my lungs.  Fortunately, antibiotics have been invented and thus my finally feeling like I have turned a corner in the never ending cold saga.  I am constantly battling the old antagonist of my pathetic and unreliable immune system... and it is probably a sign that I need to quit pretending to "eat" my children and putting their feet in my mouth to chew on their toes despite all the giggles as I admitted to my mom last week.  She agreed that this might have something to do with it. 

In spite of being sick, I have been attempting to keep up with life in general since both boys were sick, kindergarten started, and Brian had deadlines again at work which usually means he needs to stay late and work weekends. 

Life with a chronic illness is interesting especially when it is an invisible one.  No one really can see the effects of the fibromyalgia that I constantly feel, but I still need to live life.  And yet, even in my pain, I don't want to just wallow in my illness; I want to live as fully as possible.  It is a lesson that I have been constantly learning about trying to be faithful to God and my commitments of family even when it isn't easy.  That and to buy the large family pack of tissue. 

And while I would love to elaborate more, the irony is that these commitments are calling since my two year old is having a melt down and calling me thus I need to go take care of him.  I'm just not going to "eat" his toes though!

Back To School Night Revealed

Monday night was our very first Back to School Night as parents; it is very strange now to be the parent in this situation as I feel like the veil of mystery that shrouded what happens at parent/teacher functions has now been drawn back.

Brian and I sat in the tiny little chairs around tiny little tables while we listened to general classroom information.  I remember my kindergarten classroom seeming cavernous and all the furniture sized for giants but can attest now that kindergarten rooms of today are not meant for 6'2 men nor 5'7 women.  I'm just glad I didn't wear heels.

I discovered that kindergarten homework is optional although the kids are never supposed to know this.

The teachers think it is just as funny as I do that the kids can't wait to come back to school after the long weekend. 

I finally found out who this Mr. P is that my son has been talking about since his first day of school and now feel silly asking Ethan to introduce him to me since he is actually a huge screen that runs interactive activities from a computer called something along the lines of a Prometheus learning center.  Mr. P is for short and no wonder Ethan looked at me funny and told me that it was "too complicated" for me.

The teachers have a jar filled with post-it notes of quotes from the kids.  One of the earliest contributions: "When are we going to see our real mommies?"  I already know my son will be a big contributor.

In order to ensure notes actually make it to the teacher, pinning them to our children's shirts is preferred.  I'm glad to see that these women really understand my son... except that I might need to use duct tape since pins may not be strong enough to withstand impromptu Jedi battles. 

Thus begins my adventure on the other side!

Statistically Significant

My attempts to make this blog a more interactive place failed miserably this past week.  I posted a poll relating to my post on being technology dependent and either no one noticed or felt compelled to vote.  Understandable in some ways since it could easily have been a case of no one wanting to be the first one so consequently, I have no statistics about which piece of technology is most important to my readers.  That's okay though since 72.3% of statistics are made up on the spot, you know.

My love for statistics started in high school during an AP class and developed in college since my cohorts and I used statistical information inside out and backwards in our discipline of psychology.  The fact that the numbers meant something in regards to human behavior made it really fun and hence my random enjoyment of polls. 

Statistics are really more than just numbers though.  In some research we did in my university, we realized people are significantly more likely to help others who are dressed more like them than like someone of a lower socioeconomic status. 

I was the unlucky loser of the coin toss and the one who had to dress like a homeless person to find this out.  That experience of looking at the numbers changed me and made me realize first hand that people really have a hard time breaking the boundaries of their comfort zones and making a difference in people different than themselves. 

I keep going back to the scripture in which Jesus says basically that Christians should be known by our love in John 13 and feeling convicted that I, in my desire to be Christ-like, need to help others more to show the love of Christ and in doing it, show my kids that serving others needs to be a part of their faith.  Love needs to transcend our typical boundaries.  And while love is hard to measure statistically, it is something that will make a significant difference in those around us.

So I decided that after last week's statistical flop, I am going to try an experiment and see how it goes.  I am going to start a new poll on Monday mornings set to run through Fridays for the near future.  Hopefully, people will think this is fun and enjoy reveling in the random (and not at all random sample!) statistics!

Sometimes, You Just Need a Shop-Vac

Ethan's very first day of kindergarten is Friday and so we baked his favorite sugar cookies to take to school as a snack.  And that is where my perfect mommy façade breaks down.  Ethan was trying to be helpful since he loves to bake and he decided to carry both the flour and sugar tubs at the same time.  They are both really large and heavy and just as I told him he should really carry only one at a time, I heard:  CRASH!

It was one of those messes where you just stare at it for a while wondering where you start.  There was no way my dust buster was up to the challenge and sweeping with two young children underfoot is never a good idea.  I called my husband since he always has good ideas for my quandaries.  "Get the shop-vac from the garage," was Brian's answer.  If ever a clean up job warranted a shop-vac, this was it.  I ran to the garage to get it.

When I came back less than a minute later, I was taken aback, though not really surprised by how fast the mess had grown.  Notice the little foot prints.  Our gremlin in residence thought that it was amazing that he could make those as he screamed, "Snow! Snow! Snow!"  And, by the time I snapped the photo, and plugged in the vacuum, the mess had spread to about ten feet.

I've never really understood the old classic TV shows when the mother is shown vacuuming in high heels and pearls.  While it is a nice idealist thought, I don't think I have ever nor will ever come to a place in my life where that is actually a reality. My vacuuming experiences are more often than not covered in some foreign substance, on hands and knees, and looking decidedly disheveled.  I don't get to wear pearls since my kids would think they were candy and try to eat them.

I've decided though, that this is really okay since it is real.  I am blessed by an amazing family and have wonderful friends and even though I live in pain everyday with my fibromyalgia, oftentimes disheveled and covered in flour, I wouldn't trade any of it in because in my mess, I get to see God.  One of my favorite verses is one I learned in Junior High; Proverbs 30:5 says, "Every word of God is tested; He is a shield to those who take refuge in Him."  It reminds me that I'm not alone and I have a Heavenly Father who cares for me.  That is pretty special and something that gets ignored if I pretend that everything is idealistic when it isn't.

As we enter this new phase of life with kindergarten, it helps me to remember that sometimes, mess do take the shop-vac and that's okay.  God's hand prints are everywhere, especially in the messes, pointing me to Himself.  Kind of like Luke's hand prints...

Book Bargains

This week, my mom sent me a package containing some amazing, old, timeworn books some of which date back to the 1800's (Thanks, Mom!).  I love books far too well as is evidenced by my three bookcases filled up in my bonus room with piles of books in my bedroom, living room with more stashed away in boxes in our attic.  But these new additions (or editions, if you will!) are so special they are on display on our mantel in our living room.  In honor of my love for antiques and books coming together in such a fun way, I thought I would share my favorite website for buying books: christianbook.com is responsible for a fair share of our library and carries many of the old classics like the lesser known but amazing writer Stephen Charnoc and some really cool reference books like Calvin's commentaries that are hard to find.  While shipping isn't all that fast, it is a great place for deals on books that aren't time sensitive.  I always feel much more like an adult when I've been reading and being mentally active after taking car of kids all day.  I cuts down on my usage of baby talk thus my need for a steady supply of inexpensive, deep books.  As a plus, my favorite set of C.S. Lewis books came from there too!  Happy reading!

Powering Off

I am embarrassed to admit that my family is horribly and utterly addicted to technology.  This realization comes after several devices we own have gone on strike in the past week and my stress level rose far beyond what it should have been.

On Friday, our wireless router went down.  My first thought was, "I'm so glad I got my last post up before the weekend!"  Brian worked for about eight hours to get it back up and running since Internet is a necessity, right? 

Tuesday, I had to fill out some volunteer information so I can help out in Brian's kindergarten class while we were visiting his school for Open House.  Luke insisted on being able to use his own computer in the school lab.  At two years of age, he has decided computer time is something to fight for and worth pitching a very public fit over in order to retain sole rights to the mouse. 

Ethan has been frantically searching for all the rechargeable batteries because he hates waiting for a set to recharge and would like them all done at once.  This did not happen last week when the Xbox controller ran out of power and I think he stared at the charger for a good part of the day obsessively waiting for the little "charging now" light to go off.

Brian also left his cell phone and charger in his dad's car a week ago and hence had to do without his phone for a couple days.  When he got it back, I felt life was as it should be until his battery ran out and we realized that we failed to retrieve the charger too.  Several more days without an operating cell phone passed. 

My phone started screaming for more power on Monday which had me frantically looking for my charger.  The panic was akin to the crazed look I'm sure I had at two in the morning just weeks after having Ethan when he was screaming bloody murder and nothing I could do in my delirious state would make the infant submit to normal, decent human hours i.e sleeping at night.  Yes, the charger meant that much to me at that moment.

We don't have a home phone so we are entirely dependent on our cell phones so while that may be some excuse for our addiction, I have to consistently point out to myself that people lived without them for many years and survived and if I happen to forget it when we leave the house, it is not, in fact, the end of the world.  But, I am still as attached to that thing as Luke is to his pacifier.  Apparently, technological items are the new security blanket.  And that takes me right back to my own psychological issues and that will give me something to think about as I try to not hit all the power buttons around me quite as often and try to enjoy the silence.

One of Those Days

Today has just been one of those days so I don't really have any deeper truth to offer; just a story of good intentions and ensuing chaos, which is probably typical of most households.  Except that it happened here all at once.

On Friday at two in the afternoon, Luke came down with a fever of 103.3 degrees and so like any rational mother, I begged and pleaded to get a doctor's appointment before the weekend since The Gremlin, as he is known, was lying completely listless and glassy eyed on the couch even after I administered Tylenol.  One ear infection diagnosis and prescription later from the best doctors' office ever, we were home again and my weekend plans were out the window since Fever Boy became our priority.

We went to be exhausted after a weekend of filled with medicating, cold compressing, and of course, a Fantasy Football draft for Brian (very important, but I still wonder how guys can stare at the draft board and discuss it for longer than the actual draft took).  But, sleep proved to be elusive because Brian and I made a very important discovery shortly after going to bed:  Luke sleep walks.

I will never know how the two year old managed to walk from his room to ours in partial darkness with his eyes closed without bumping into anything.  We picked him up and held him for few minutes trying to decide if that was really sleep walking when he woke up and was completely confused as he was trying to figure out where he was.  It was not a good night for night terrors either and so we woke up exhausted this morning and I'm now contemplating locking his door at night to prevent any more nighttime wanderings since the stairs are far too close to his room for comfort.  It seems like doing that might make me a bad mom but I'm also concerned that knowingly allowing my two year old to wander the house while asleep with stairs close by would also make me a bad mom.  Such have been my musings all this exhausted day as I cleaned up suspicious puddles, removed climbing children from furniture and tried to find all the checkers from the game Connect Four that somehow were mistaken as projectiles.  Thus, deeper thought eludes me.

Being a Good Neighbor

Periodically, we sell things we are no longer using on Craigslist.  It's been nice to send things along on their way to a place where they will most likely be used as opposed to sitting in our garage collecting dust and occupying space that should otherwise belong to my car.  Unused exercise equipment, old storm door, baking dish, ironing board and a chandelier we purchased and were unable to return when it didn't fit all found new homes.  It was during this process that Craigslist reminded me of something Jesus preached:

Are Those Shoes Following Me?

When I logged onto the blog to post today, I noticed that the headline for the ads was "Catch a Cheating Spouse!".  Absolutely a perfect fit for the (hopefully!) uplifting and encouraging things I try to write about and especially so if you consider it in light of my desire to be authentic (insert ironic and sarcastic tone here).  This plunged Brian and I into a discussion about targeted advertising.

Just this evening, Brian was listening to a radio program on it during his commute home.  The lady on NPR said that she looked at a pair of shoes online and this same pair of shoes followed her for the next two months in her online wanderings.  And while many people are concerned about our lack of privacy and that amount of information sharing that goes on online, Seth said it best when he declared, "If I'm going to look at ads, it might as well be of stuff I like.  It'd be depressing looking at ads for feminine products for two months for me."

However, I think it might become depressing trying to fight the impulse to buy the shoes for two long months.  I am currently still resisting the ones I saw that I wrote about earlier this week but we'll just say it hasn't been easy.  As a random update, the day after I wrote it, a coupon from that shoe store came in the mail and I had to run an errand to the store next door so I had to go see them in person since I was so close.  Luckily, they didn't have my size and so my battle with contentment was not lost...yet.  But, I'm sure it soon will be if they keep popping up in ads... 

Amazon is an interesting place for target advertising since they allow  you to check if a purchase is a gift so they don't put related items in your "quick picks".  However, I'm still seeing all sorts of pirate paraphernalia since I purchased a book on Blackbeard more than a year and a half ago as a Christmas gift for Brian.  It does not appear that this option is working too well at the moment because Blackbeard is still following me.  This has created an interesting situation shopping for gifts on Amazon since so many similar things come up in the suggestions and so sadly, Brian usually gets hints as to the categories I have been perusing.  And while I would consider this a downside to targeted ads, I think Brian thought it was the upside as it was all stuff he liked!

A Sticky Situation

Life gets sticky sometimes, quite literally if you live in a house with the preschool crowd.
Months and months ago for Easter, the boys received Easter eggs with a gel like play dough type substance that I strongly suspect is a knockoff of Gak from my childhood.  We just opened it a few days ago and it has been a hit, again quite literally.

This photo is of Brian and Luke trying to remove it from the pillow that adhered to Brian's shirt when he stood up from the couch.  Luke thought it would be fun to shape it into a ball and throw it at daddy.

Shortly afterwards, Brian decided to follow suit and throw it at my face.  Unfortunately, he missed.  I say unfortunately since I spent the next twenty minutes trying to extricate my hair from the gel blob.  I now have a lot more sympathy for the fruit flies we caught with the sticky paper (from the post Catching Fruit Flies... And Ethan in May).

I've given up thinking that if I am a good enough parent, that I can control these things.  As if somehow being more organized is going to help me avoid flying balls of goo.  My new credo is expect the unexpected so when the unexpected comes, it isn't a surprise and hopefully, I can deal with it more in stride since control is really just an illusion as my children have firmly established.  But, on a practical note, does anyone have any ideas how to remove the blob-y stuff from my upolstery?  I really do like that pillow!

Things I've Learned About God from Being a Parent

I can definitely say that I knew God before I had kids but the depth of my relationship with Him has changed in the past five years. I came to know Jesus Christ as my personal Lord and Savior when I was only two years old and I clearly remember making the decision to follow Him and over time, my understanding has grown, but these years of parenthood has given me deeper understanding about faith and God's character. Some of the lessons I have learned:

• Control is just an illusion. I have to trust God in everything because as much as I try to protect and plan for my kids, it is ultimately in God's hands. Luke was only 5 weeks old in a hospital bed because he was so sick that his breathing kept stopping when I realized I must submit to this. I can't fix everything, but He is in control.  They are His kids too.

• God loves me more than I can possibly imagine. I used to treat this in a somewhat cavalier attitude until I understood the love a parent has for their kids. And He has so much more love as God than I do.

• It is humbling to know that while I would give my life for my kids, Jesus already did.  I would die for my kids in a heartbeat to protect them. Ethan was running in a parking lot in front of an oncoming car and without a thought, I ran to get between him and the car.  Fortunately everything was fine but now I see how Jesus saw dying for me.

• God wants the best for us just as I want the best for my boys. Even if it means dealing out painful consequences, I do it so they will learn and grow into the men God created them to be. The boys don't see the ultimate goal when they are dealing with the pain, but I do and I know God has the same purpose for the pain in my life. It refines us and makes us who He wants us to be in order to glorify Himself as He deserves.

• God is with me; really truly with me.  I've sat up with both of my sons, holding them through their night terrors. I don't think they even realize I am there but there is no other place I would rather be even though I lose sleep over it. In the same way, I know God is always there too, even if I don't immediately feel it.

• God's plans are always better.  When I lost some very special friends this past year, I had to explain death to my innocent Ethan who was wondering why I was so sad.  I missed my friends so much, but it also hurt to have to explain something so miserable to my son and see him wrestle with it.  It made me realize how much the Fall must have grieved God.

• I think I'm still just beginning to learn about God.  I've been reading C.S. Lewis's Chronicles of Narnia to Ethan and we just recently finished Prince Caspian. In it, Lucy remarks to Aslan (who is symbolic of Jesus) that he is bigger and he replies that as she grows, she will always find him bigger.  The more I've come to know and trust God, the more I've realized I just know a little bit and He is greater than I ever could have imagined when I first met Him.  I expect to find Him even bigger later...

Contentment in the Shoe Aisle

You know that you have a problem when you decide to open up an email from a shoe store when you need NOTHING and then click on it to see what they have on the store website even when there is no sale.  You know you really have a problem when you find the cutest shoes in the world on the site and even though they cost more than you almost ever spend on shoes, you try to think of an outfit you have that doesn't have matching shoes that would look perfect with brown wedges and thereby creating a reason you NEED the shoes.

Such was my depravity today.  Since my mom is on the other side of the country and I "needed" to show somebody, I emailed her a link.  But, it was way to early for her to be up yet given the three hour time difference so I decided that I would email the link to Brian as I really wanted to show them to someone else in my excitement.  For the record, I did apologize for treating him like a girlfriend.  

Brain wrote back, "[In my best girlfriend voice] I so love them! They are adorable! You should like totally get them! :-)"  He's such a good sport!

Shoes are fun and as one lady from my MOPS group said last year, "Shoes and purses are such faithful friends!" as opposed to the jeans I had from before I had kids who chose to abandon me for several years and have only recently decided to reconcile and submit to being worn.  Hence my love of shoes.  And while I definitely don't have the inventory of a small shoe store in my closet, contentment with them has been an issue over the years.  Because really, how many shoes can I actually wear?  My callouses on my feet will testify that I do not wear shoes all the time either. And I don't think when Jesus said that we shouldn't worry because God always provides for us that means I get to have a pair for everyday of the month; not even close.  But somehow, I can always find a new, adorable pair.  Today, I acknowledge that I love shoes too much and that I need to quit clicking on links.  But, they are cute, aren't they?!!!

Keeping Perspective

This weekend, I had an object lesson in keeping perspective on things. 

My five year old son had the last of his pre-kindergarten immunizations on Friday and woke up Saturday running a temperature.  Fortunately, it wasn't very high, only 100.2 degrees, but enough to make him feel uncomfortable.  That afternoon, when the children's ibuprofen had worn off and his fever was creeping back up, he went to lie down on the couch and started moaning in the most pathetic, albeit dramatic way.  Ethan is one of those children who never ever sits down unless a movie is involved so for him to voluntarily lie down and stare at the ceiling was saying something.  As we waited for the new dose of medicine to kick in, Ethan moaned in a somewhat panicked voice, "I think I'm gonna die!"

I assured him that though he felt really sick, he was not at death's doorstep.  And, a few minutes later, the medicine took affect and he was fine and finally fell asleep.

Funny how desperate the situation feels when we are struggling in it, but later, it doesn't seem quite as bad and the answer to how we should have handled it is quite clear.  In light of this, I'm trying to remember that taking care of sick kids is an exhausting phase of life that will pass and that I just need to have some patience and avoid the drama.  Now I need to go administer the next dose so we don't have any more "object lessons"!

Do Not Iron

Luke has been working on potty training for a while now (check out the post "Concept Grasped, Execution Elusive" for the background info) and so we thought that it would be helpful to encourage him with some big boy underwear.  After presenting him with some Mickey Mouse, his current favorite character, I read the back of the packaging.

"Machine wash warm with like colors.  Use only non-chlorine bleach when needed.  Tumble dry low.  Do not iron."

Uh-huh... Already do that... Uh-huh... What?!!!  Seriously, they say "do not iron"?!

I absolutely never in a million years would have considered this something that needed to be done.  I am now wondering who thought it was necessary to put this admonition on the back of the package since I doubt anyone with a toddler/preschooler has much time for laundry let alone ironing. 

Additionally, is there anyone out there who actually irons underwear and needs to hear that these particular pairs should not be subject to the same treatment?  I thought the name said it all when it states "under"wear which clearly means no one is going to see the shamefully disasterous mess of wrinkles.  But then, if we were to get in a car accident like Mom always said...

Maybe I am the only one who doesn't iron their underwear.  This package has now made me feel like I am slacking in my motherly and domestic duties.  Ironically, the package also says, "Now that's the Disney difference!"  Thanks, Disney for giving me unrealistic expectations for hair (my hair refused to look like Ariel's when wet) and now with ironing...

I really want to find out what would happen if I did iron it, though!  Melting Mickey? Firey mess? Excuse to purchase new iron?  Apparently, I'm vulnerable to the power of suggestion.

With a Grain of Salt

Ethan is not a liar and has absolutely no power of deception.  He once told me that he finished his food to get dessert and came back penitent and sobbing telling me that he "lied" since he realized he had left a dime size crumb from the crust of his sandwich on his plate that he thought he ate.

Luke is another story.  I was in the kitchen cleaning up when he decided that he wanted to move straight on to dessert without finishing his sandwich.  While this is a common two year old sentiment, his subterfuge was not.  He transferred his food to another plate in the dining room and then presented me with his empty one for dessert.  Truth is not his strong point.

With this incident in mind, I've been trying to emphasize honesty to Luke lately.  The problem with this though is explaining why we need to be honest to a two year old is pretty tricky since being moral for it's own sake isn't inherently motivating whereas dessert is.

I realized I have made no progress this week when I told him that if he finished his water he could have a tiny bit of soda.  He told me he drank it all but as he was bringing the cup to me, he looked down into it and disappeared back into the kitchen and I heard the splash of water in the sink.  Mr. Brazen reappeared holding out his cup proclaiming, "Empty!"

During our resulting discussion, I took a different approach.  I tried to explain that God tells us that lying is bad and that Jesus never lied and always told the truth.  Luke's eyes widened.  We talked about how we want to be like Jesus and how that means we should never lie since that is what Jesus did.  Luke was, for one of the first times, actually remorseful.

While we did have another lying incident after this one, he connected with the idea of why we should be truthful and so I am hoping that we are on the road to growth in the truth-telling department.  One of my major parenting goals is to teach our kids how to control themselves and I think that means understanding why they are supposed to do the things we've asked them to do.  Long after "The Rules" have lost their power over them, they will still need to behave in responsible, moral and God-honoring ways.  I realized that if I fail to explain that God's character is the root of morality and it is our love for Him that should motivate us to do what is right, all I have given them is a set of rules and set them up for the pressures of legalism. 

I always feel like I am re-learning lessons as I need to teach them to my kids.  Be truthful because God is truth.  Love others since God is love.  Give freely since God has given abundantly.  Live in and extend grace since God is graceful and offered us grace through the death of His Son Christ Jesus.  I'm constantly reminded of these since it seems like these phrases, in preschooler speak, of course, come out of my mouth.  Truthfully, though, these lessons are some that I believe we can never learn deeply enough and can use the constant repetition.  They are easy to forget, even for me, and time is the crucible in which we refine our character.

And, until Luke's character refines a little more, I recommend taking what he says with a grain of salt.

The "Why"

This past year has been an interesting one for my family.  Like so many other people, the economy hit us really hard and in the spring of last year, business at Brian's architectural office started to drop off.  The owners closed the office one day a week and we took a 20% pay cut which was hugely significant since we live only on one income.  But, we were incredibly thankful that Brian still had a job.  In the fall, things were almost at a standstill and in our area, there was approximately a 40% unemployment rate among architects.  Brian was finally laid off completely.

I say this not because I feel like I am a victim of the economy; no, that is just a part of life that we all have to deal with and layoffs, while hard, don't inherently make one venerable for sainthood.  I talk about this because this was one of the rare times in life that I was blessed enough to find out the "Why" and I share it because it shows how great God is.

God's faithfulness is something that I think we forget about until we are in a situation where we are struggling to take care of ourselves.  It is easy to buy into the idea that we can actually handle life and ignore our own weaknesses when things are going well.  It's not the God isn't faithful during hard times, we just see it, or what we perceive to be a lack of it more.  The truth is, He always provides although it isn't always how we would choose and what He knows we need isn't what we think we need.  And sometimes, it isn't even about us either, as I learned in the past year.

When Brian called me to tell me the news, we already had a plan in place since we feared that it would be coming.  He looked for work like crazy and in a time where it seemed like no one was hiring, he decided that doing contract work was the way to network.  I tried to do some substitute teaching and babysat and figured out how to stretch our food budget like mad without it hurting too much.  God totally provided and gave us what we needed although it was rice and beans quite a few nights.  But, I can now say that I make really good bean burritos that have turned into a favorite family meal!

I don't mean to say it wasn't stressful because it was incredibly so.  To not know how everything was going to work out weighed on me incredibly heavily since I am definitely the long term planner in our family (I am already thinking about some major house expenses that are probably at least five years down the road).  It was a time where even though we didn't know, God did and we had to trust Him.

Our church has been doing work in Haiti for a long time now and it has been even more crucial in light of the major earthquake in January.  One of the projects up the pipeline was building a hospital in one of the rural areas in Southern Haiti.  If you weren't already aware, Haiti has one of the highest infant and maternal death rates in world and the greatest in the Western Hemisphere.  There is next to no way to have a c-section if a woman in labor needs it.  As a result, far too many precious people have been lost.  It absolutely breaks my heart especially as a mother and particularly because our older son was a c-section after 20 hours of labor when his vitals started dropping.  We found out later that he was in the wrong position and giving birth naturally would have been impossible.  This happens all the time in Haiti but mothers there don't get my happy ending.

Brian was asked to go to Haiti and help work on the building design for the new hospital since, as an architect, his skills were definitely needed.  Because he was unemployed, he had the time to do this and Brian really wanted to help and feel productive.  Right before he flew out, he received a phone call from a firm that had just told him they weren't hiring.  They had a position open and they wanted him to interview, which he did the day before he left.  This firm specializes in hospitals and was one that Brian had really wanted to work for when we moved here but again, they had no open positions at the time even though he was a good fit.

After almost a week in Haiti, Brian came back to an email telling him the job was his.  I can't make it clear enough that absolutely no one was hiring at the time but God had different plans.  His plans included a desperately needed hospital in Haiti (it is still an ongoing project that Brian devotes a great deal of time too) and a job that would train him how to help design it.  I feel so humbled to be able to see this amazing plan and find out why this hard time was necessary for us to go through.  Most of the time we don't get the see the end result of why hard times happen but in this case, we did and I can judge the rest of the times through this one.  All I can really say is that God is great.

Final Score: Three For Three

Saturday, Brian spent hours working in the yard attempting to return it to a weed free condition and came in exhausted.  It looks much better now, thanks to his hard work, but he wasn't able to finish everything that he wanted too.  While he was at work on Monday, I decided to finish the hedges for him as a surprise.

While we have an electric hedger, I decided that I should use the regular garden hand sheers instead since the last time I used the electric hedger, I cut the power cord.  And the time before that.  These were the only two previous times I have used the tool.

After a few minutes of working in the humid summer heat, the idea of having it all over in a few minutes sounded great and my resolve to avoid any possible cord cutting weakened.  I got out the electric hedger.

I really enjoy projects on our house, even the routine maintenance stuff because, for the most part, I can step back and feel like I have done something productive and it feels good.  Some days, all it seems like I do is feed kids and clean up after them so on the days that I am able to check off a project in addition, I am pretty proud of myself.

I was feeling pretty proud of myself as I moved on from the first boxwood to the hedge and it was shaping up nicely and I even managed to miss the gardenia that is growing right up against the hedge.  All the sudden, Spark!  And the hedger shuts off. 

All I could think of at that moment was the phrase, "Pride goeth before a fall."  It was in so many ways such a major, ironic fail that all I could do was laugh as I commenced with what is now my "just cut the power cord" routine.  I unplugged it from the socket, then unplugged the cord from the hedger, and then reset the tripped circuit.  Sadly, I can, in fact, attest to the fact that all the outdoor circuitry in this house runs through the powder room fuse.  The first time, it took me almost twenty minutes to figure this out.  Now, I just go straight there.

I called Brian at work.  I said that I was trying to do something nice for him and he immediately responded, "Thanks, I appreciate it!" but became silent when I said I used the hedger.  I'm sure all his coworkers wanted to know what he thought was so funny when I confirmed that I had, indeed, cut the cord for the third time.  Teasingly, he said that I am now officially banned from the hedger.

I finished up with the hand sheers but never made it to the hedge on the other side of the door but at least one now looks pretty!  And, I was able to laugh and check half a project off my list.  But, in my adventure today, I learned that the third time is most definitely not the charm as my final hedging the power cord score rests at three for three.

Thoughts From the Couch

The events of this weekend have driven me to confront some questions about myself.  Ethan is starting kindergarten in just a few weeks and so I went back to school shopping for him.  After being out for a few hours (like a normal person!), I came home and crashed (like the fibro girl I am) and spent a good part of the day back on the couch much like the past several weekends.

Herein are my questions:  why does it seem like my weekends always culminate in me being absolutely exhausted, in pain, and completely unproductive?  And, more importantly, why do I still expect things to be different?

The first question seems to be one of me trying to evaluate what I need to do differently with my health routine so I can avoid these crashes.  However, my typical over-analytical self starts evaluating my perception of the whole thing.  Am I really that much worse on the weekends or is it just that since Brian is home, I can actually give myself permission to curl up in a little ball?  I know the kids aren't going to go hungry or at least live only on rice crispies treats or fruit snacks...well, they probably do that anyway on the weekends given the snack box in the pantry seems to be surprisingly empty Monday mornings...  But, I digress...

The more important of these questions is the second one:  why do I still expect to have normal weekends and plan to get a bunch of stuff accomplished for the start of the next week?  I have done this continually for the past several weeks, deliberately putting things off for the weekend with the ludicrous assumption that somehow, it will be easier to accomplish it during the weekend.  Clearly, this has not gone well. 

As we all know, the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.  I think I am now meeting that definition. As the old adage in my psychology classes went, "Neurotics build castles in the sky, psychotics live in them, and psychologists collect the rent".  Like many of my friends, we were studying to "collect the rent" and help people, but now I've realized paying rent to yourself is a bit difficult, unless of course, you have multiple personalities to make this work efficiently.  And if it is not now entirely obvious, I have spent way too much time sitting on the couch thinking about all of this.  I probably need to get to planning everything I am going to get done next weekend.

Riddles in the Dark- Our Personal Edition

We've had a situation for about the past week that has required much prayer and supplication:  my boys want to share a room.  Let me explain.  The prayer and supplication part is not in regards to whether or not I should allow this but rather, "God, please let us all survive this experiment!"

Ethan has a set of bunk beds in his room that Luke has always found particularly appealing. However, upon his request to sleep in his big brother's room, Luke has professed great preference for sleeping on a blanket on the floor. No matter of enticing will get him to sleep in the bottom bunk even though the week before, we were unable to get him out of it.  Notice that Elmo and other stuffed friends have the twin bed all to themselves while Stephen has the floor.

Also, Luke appears to have a hard time staying on his blanket and pillow.  One evening on my way to bed, I realized that he had managed to roll all the way out of the bedroom and part of the way down the hallway.  Thankfully, he missed the stairs.

Ethan is going to school for the first time in just a few weeks and so we've been attempting to get him on a good sleep schedule since he'll need to wake up a little more than an hour before he does currently.  With Luke in the room, conversation and playtime are much more likely to happen than sleep.  And then, when sleep does happen, it is because they are utterly exhausted and we have discovered that Luke snores.  Or more accurately, Ethan discovered this.

Ethan came to our room one night in absolute hysterics claiming Luke was making sounds and it was scaring him since it sounded "like that guy from the book- the one whose birthday present was the ring".  After forcing my sleepy self to concentrate, I realized that he was referring to Golem in The Hobbit. 

Just that evening, Brian had read Ethan the chapter entitled Riddles in the Dark and done all the voices and enjoyed making it especially dramatic (i.e. scary) when Golem threatened to eat Bilbo.  And now Ethan was convinced that Golem was hiding out in his room in the form of Luke's snoring. 

The remedy to the bedroom turned Golem's cave problem was to end the snoring.  Poor baby was so tired that we couldn't wake him up so our only option was to transport the little snorer back to his toddler bed.  We are now toning down the dramatic readings.

As much as I would dearly love an extra room for an office, craft room, exercise room or whatever other endless possibilities my mind has been considering, I am now feeling like a more ordered and calm, snore-less bedtime is going to be worth more to my mental health than some space all my own.  I have not yet informed my boys though that the bedtime social hour will be drawing to an end.  We'll probably have some more crying tonight.

Truth and Growth

I majored in psychology in college and I planned to go on to become a psychotherapist but after kids, my plans changed (but hey, who says you have to be in a counseling group to do therapy; I do plenty here with my kids!).  Even though I love what I am doing now and getting this amazing time with the two most adorable little people on the face of the planet, I miss the discipline.  Some of my favorite practical authors in this area are Dr. Henry Cloud and Dr. John Townsend so I started reading their book How People Grow.  It's been very interesting and even encouraging to me and I'd like to share one of the more profound points and what I've been thinking about it.

Dr. Cloud and Dr. Townsend make the point that truth is our friend.  In spite of any uncomfortable realizations or even pain it brings when we acknowledge it, it can only help us.  Oftentimes, we try to convince ourselves that reality is only a miss-perception and that we aren't at fault or something really wasn't the way that it looked or that it wasn't that bad but, this altering of reality in our minds, or denial, keeps us from being able to deal with it.  Denial won't let us grow in our mistakes.  It hurts at the time and no one likes admitting their faults or acknowledging a bad situation but, ironically, it is this acceptance of ourselves and our position that lets us see how much we need God and finally get us on our path to growth.  It hurts a lot less than being stuck in our brokenness.

Sounds simple like most truths are but, hard to put into practice.  I think that is why community is so important because if we don't have good and honest friends who really love us enough to talk about the not so fun stuff, it is hard to see it ourselves and easier to ignore it.  Being honest about who we are isn't a bad thing; it is a mark of maturity that we all too often miss in our airbrushed world.  It is refreshing and authentic.  It is in our flaws that we see how God is strong.  Quite literally, the truth will set us free.