Blogging. It was a nice dream to believe that I could sit at my computer a couple nights a week and write down intimate thoughts and/or daily happenings in the life of my sweet little family. It's just a few minutes out of my day, after all. Of COURSE I can to that!
Well, here we are, four years after the last time I sat down to write things out. So much has happened in the life of my sweet little family and a few minutes tonight wouldn't BEGIN to put a dent in it all.
I wish I had been more deliberate with writing. I find that I do enjoy penning my thoughts and sharing with whomever takes time to read this the various goings-on in my family. After all, my children are very entertaining! ;-)
As I sit here at 1:00am on a now-Thursday morning, when I should be fast asleep in my bed, I am awed by all that God has done in the past four years of my life! My parents are happily living nearby, my husband's parents live nearby on a part-time basis, we started attending a new church, my husband and I are now teaching a Sunday School class, my first-born is nearly 6ft. 7in. and has become quite a fantastic basketball player, and I am now homeschooling my three youngest!
When Keith and I first got married, we talked about homeschooling our children. I quipped, "If I EVER had to homeschool my kids, I think I would eat them!" There was NO WAY I would ever homeschool! But, here I am; homeschooling my three little cherubs. I can tell you, and I believe they would equally agree, it's the BEST thing we could have done! They are thriving, happy, well-adjusted, and we get to do school in our PJ's most days! It's AWESOME!!
My oldest absolutely astounds me each and every day! He takes a full complement of honors classes at school, plays varsity football and varsity basketball (both of which require him to practice every night after school, weight lifting before school, games 1 to 2 nights a week, and sometimes practice on the weekends!), and yet still maintains a 3.75 GPA! We're hoping for a scholarship!
My parents seem to have fully settled into life here in Tennessee and they are loving it! We are all attending the same church and they're very involved and have so many friends. Plus, all their friends from back in Iowa keep coming down for visits.
We have a full life.
There have been real struggles, sadness, joy, laughter, tears, frustrations, but through it all we've always kept God as our center.
This year, we added one more adventure to our lives and we opened our home to a beautiful young girl from South Korea! She's living with us until the end of the 2015-2016 school year. She bakes! She bakes A LOT!! I've been trying to diet. I'm failing. I'll get it together one of these days, I'm sure! Sue is a sweetheart and a blessing to this family!
My kids make me laugh each and every day. I'll share some of that laughter here in another blog.
Right now, I feel like a woman about to give birth. God is doing something in my life! I thought I would get back to blogging so that maybe I can share whatever that new "something" is, as it unfolds! I just feel like everything around me is electrified!
The past couple of years have been a time of deep sadness, confusion, and often -- disappointment. But I've waited. I've cried, I've yelled, I've argued and pointed fingers, with no resolution. So, I waited. I accused, I pleaded, I settled and said "this is all there is", but I still had no peace. So, I waited.
Now, I feel as though I'm starting to wake up. My shoulders feel as if a burden is being lifted and my back is becoming straighter. Joy that I once thought was lost to me is starting to move back into the far corners of my heart. In spite of all the baked goods I've been enjoying these past few months, I feel lighter on my feet!
Isaiah 40:31 But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; they shall walk, and not faint.
I'm still waiting, but I think I'm next in line! I hope you'll stay with me and watch what God has in store for me, unfold! I know it's gonna be GREAT!
Wednesday, January 13, 2016
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
Living a Joel 2:25 Life
"I'm moving to Nashville!" I was a young, 20-year-old girl when I spoke those words to my parents in late summer of 1988. Three weeks later, I borrowed my dad's car, loaded it up with all my earthly possessions, and took off for Nashville with less than $100 dollars in my pocket, no job, no place to live, and I knew NO ONE in the city to which I was traveling.
By the time I arrived in Nashville, my mother had connected with a family in a local church and their daughter said I could sleep on the floor of her dorm room at Belmont University. The catch, I could only stay there for three nights! I arrived on a Saturday evening, and by my third night (Monday), I still had no job, no place to live, and my money was almost gone.
Tuesday morning, I decided I was going to go home. So, I got in my borrowed car and started driving back to Iowa. I got almost to Clarksville (just north of Nashville) and realized all my things were back at the dorm room. "I'll just send for them", I told myself. But another Voice told me I needed to go back. "Ok, God! I'll go back, but just to get my things. I'm going home, tonight!"
When I got back to the University, there was a message waiting for me. A family in Brentwood learned that I needed a place to live and wanted to offer me a room! I met with "The Wife", and moved in with her family that night. Three days later, I was offered a job and started working on the spot!
I had moved to Nashville to sing. I did my first session, four months after I had moved to Nashville, and it was for Steven Curtis Chapman! I really thought I had arrived!! In order to pursue my life's dream, I had decided there was no room in my life for romance. Well, at least I would not actively pursue romance. If it "found" me, I wouldn't necessarily push it away. *wink - wink* Five years after I'd arrived in this great city, a man entered my life that I couldn't resist.
He was tall, dark and handsome. He had an athletic body, piercing eyes, and a very commanding personality. And to top it all off, he was a deacon at his church! Couldn't have been more perfect for me! We had our first date, and he seemed too good to be true! The first sign of trouble occurred just a few short weeks later when he said to me, "If you want to be in a relationship with me, you'd better shape up!" This was the result of me not loaning him my only car for an indefinite period of time, when his car broke down.
We got through that argument, he bought me some flowers, and things were great again. But not for long. Over a period of nearly 5 years, "John Doe" nibbled away at me until he had me convinced I was physically ugly, worthless, unlovable, untalented, and completely incapable of thinking of anyone else but myself. Then, after I had been on the road for a little over a year, singing with an amazing gospel group, he ended things with me over the phone at 1am. He told me, "I don't love you and I never want to marry you. I've never loved you and never will. I knew three months into our relationship I would never love you, but I knew you wanted someone to love, so I thought I'd let you love me." I was devastated.
A few weeks later, my heart battered and bruised (beyond repair - I thought), I went home to Iowa for some much needed rest. That's when I met "Superman"; six feet, 5 inches, light brown hair, piercing eyes, dimples that went to the back of his head....he literally took my breath away! The mutual attraction was like nothing I had yet experienced. "John Doe" asked me once, "Do you really think I'm going to give my heart to SOMEONE LIKE YOU?!" Superman, said to me, "I can't believe SOMEONE LIKE YOU would want to be with someone like me!" This MUST be love, right?!
Six months later, fearing I was losing "Superman", I allowed the unthinkable to happen. I gave him everything I had to give. I gave him what should have been given to my husband. When it was over, to my humiliation, he got out of bed, took a shower, and didn't talk to me for nearly two days. He finally did talk to me, but just to confirm my flight (we had met in a city between the two cities we were living in, at the time). He dropped me off at the airport, said goodbye, and drove off. A month later, my life took another unexpected turn. I was pregnant.
Superman hung up the phone within five minutes after I told him (it had taken me a little more than a week to get him on the phone). He later told me, "I don't love you. I never did and I never will. I never want to marry you." Deja vu! I literally wanted to die, and tried to figure out ways to make that happen. Thankfully, my love for my parents kept me from harming myself. I knew my death would hurt them far more than my unwed pregnancy would.
I moved back to Iowa. My family was there. Superman was there. My home church family was there. I needed to learn how to live again. I needed to learn how to forgive myself. I needed to learn to accept God's forgiveness. I needed to learn to rest in His unfailing love, again. I received months of Godly counseling, and came to see my pregnancy not as God's curse or punishment, but as God's blessing! Single and pregnant, for me, was a blessing!
Through that experience, I had to utterly depend on God's grace and mercy to get me through even the most mundane tasks, each moment of every day. God gave me the name, Corbin, for my precious baby. Corbin means, "gift, wholly dedicated to God." My sweet, and precious gift was born early on a cold, snowy, winter morning in February, 1999. All the shame, hurt, and humiliation was a small price to pay, for the squirming, ten-fingered, ten-toed, bundle of sweetness I was holding in my arms. I had my baby. I didn't need, nor did I want another man in my life! But, God had other plans.
In December, 2002, my parents decided to embark on a "find our daughter a suitable husband" quest! They signed me up on dating website with the understanding that they were going to choose the man! I was scared!! Blue-eyed-Cyclone was one among several dozen messages they culled through, from that dating site. I remember my mom saying, "Oh! This is the man you're going to marry!" Really?! An Iowa State Cyclone fan?! NO WAY!! We were an Iowa Hawkeye family!
Well, we had our first date after a month of corresponding via e-mail and phone calls. After a month of dating, Blue-eyed-Cyclone said we "needed to talk". I prepared myself for the "it's not you, it's me" talk, and drove to his house. He sat me down and started telling me how he had been thinking of me and praying about me at church that morning.
He said that as he prayed he realized something; "I'm going to say something, and I need you to NOT say anything back. Ok?"
"Ok", I said.
"Tammy, I love you! I need you to know that I love you. You need to be loved without any expectations on your part. Let me just love you. Don't say anything back to me. Just accept my love, and leave it at that." he said. My blue-eyed-cyclone stirred things up in my life and turned everything upside down.....but in such a good way.
Nine months later, he brought me back to Nashville to accompany him while he interviewed for a fellowship at Vanderbilt University. After his interviews, he took me for a walk along the riverbank in downtown Nashville. The same riverbank I used to sit on and lament the lack of true romantic love in my life, as I watched happy, in-love couples walk hand-in-hand under the moonlight. Blue-eyed-Cyclone stopped, and we sat down on the grass looking at the over-large, over-bright moon shining in the early fall sky. He maneuvered himself to kneel in front of me and began telling me all the things he loved about me, and how he was so thankful God had brought us together. Then, he was asking me to marry him, and he was putting a ring on my finger! Six months later, on March 19, 2004, we were pledging our love and vowing before God to be faithful to each other, until death parted us!
He got the fellowship, and we moved back to Nashville. I was no longer a single mother, working sometimes 70 hours a week just to make ends meet, while my precious little boy was being raised by daycare workers, and his stepmom while his father hunted, rode motorcycles, and played with his friends. I was married to a Godly man, who turned his own life upside down so he could better financially provide so that I could stay home and be a mother to my child.
As I was unpacking boxes and moving into my new life, I came across an old journal I had briefly kept while I was dating "John Doe". I read the entry for our first date, and saw the date I'd written down......March 19, 1993! Eleven years later, God had begun restoring my lost years!
My blue-eyed-cyclone and I have been married a little over nine years, now. I still stay home with my children, who are now Corbin - 14, Cameron - 8, Catherine - 7 and Carson - 7. My quiver is full. My children call me "blessed". My husband leads his family in the ways of the Lord. I never really knew what Joel 2:25 was all about, until now.
God is faithful. God's promises are true. What lost years do you need restored? Trust God. He has so much more to give you, than what you've lost!
By the time I arrived in Nashville, my mother had connected with a family in a local church and their daughter said I could sleep on the floor of her dorm room at Belmont University. The catch, I could only stay there for three nights! I arrived on a Saturday evening, and by my third night (Monday), I still had no job, no place to live, and my money was almost gone.
Tuesday morning, I decided I was going to go home. So, I got in my borrowed car and started driving back to Iowa. I got almost to Clarksville (just north of Nashville) and realized all my things were back at the dorm room. "I'll just send for them", I told myself. But another Voice told me I needed to go back. "Ok, God! I'll go back, but just to get my things. I'm going home, tonight!"
When I got back to the University, there was a message waiting for me. A family in Brentwood learned that I needed a place to live and wanted to offer me a room! I met with "The Wife", and moved in with her family that night. Three days later, I was offered a job and started working on the spot!
I had moved to Nashville to sing. I did my first session, four months after I had moved to Nashville, and it was for Steven Curtis Chapman! I really thought I had arrived!! In order to pursue my life's dream, I had decided there was no room in my life for romance. Well, at least I would not actively pursue romance. If it "found" me, I wouldn't necessarily push it away. *wink - wink* Five years after I'd arrived in this great city, a man entered my life that I couldn't resist.
He was tall, dark and handsome. He had an athletic body, piercing eyes, and a very commanding personality. And to top it all off, he was a deacon at his church! Couldn't have been more perfect for me! We had our first date, and he seemed too good to be true! The first sign of trouble occurred just a few short weeks later when he said to me, "If you want to be in a relationship with me, you'd better shape up!" This was the result of me not loaning him my only car for an indefinite period of time, when his car broke down.
We got through that argument, he bought me some flowers, and things were great again. But not for long. Over a period of nearly 5 years, "John Doe" nibbled away at me until he had me convinced I was physically ugly, worthless, unlovable, untalented, and completely incapable of thinking of anyone else but myself. Then, after I had been on the road for a little over a year, singing with an amazing gospel group, he ended things with me over the phone at 1am. He told me, "I don't love you and I never want to marry you. I've never loved you and never will. I knew three months into our relationship I would never love you, but I knew you wanted someone to love, so I thought I'd let you love me." I was devastated.
A few weeks later, my heart battered and bruised (beyond repair - I thought), I went home to Iowa for some much needed rest. That's when I met "Superman"; six feet, 5 inches, light brown hair, piercing eyes, dimples that went to the back of his head....he literally took my breath away! The mutual attraction was like nothing I had yet experienced. "John Doe" asked me once, "Do you really think I'm going to give my heart to SOMEONE LIKE YOU?!" Superman, said to me, "I can't believe SOMEONE LIKE YOU would want to be with someone like me!" This MUST be love, right?!
Six months later, fearing I was losing "Superman", I allowed the unthinkable to happen. I gave him everything I had to give. I gave him what should have been given to my husband. When it was over, to my humiliation, he got out of bed, took a shower, and didn't talk to me for nearly two days. He finally did talk to me, but just to confirm my flight (we had met in a city between the two cities we were living in, at the time). He dropped me off at the airport, said goodbye, and drove off. A month later, my life took another unexpected turn. I was pregnant.
Superman hung up the phone within five minutes after I told him (it had taken me a little more than a week to get him on the phone). He later told me, "I don't love you. I never did and I never will. I never want to marry you." Deja vu! I literally wanted to die, and tried to figure out ways to make that happen. Thankfully, my love for my parents kept me from harming myself. I knew my death would hurt them far more than my unwed pregnancy would.
I moved back to Iowa. My family was there. Superman was there. My home church family was there. I needed to learn how to live again. I needed to learn how to forgive myself. I needed to learn to accept God's forgiveness. I needed to learn to rest in His unfailing love, again. I received months of Godly counseling, and came to see my pregnancy not as God's curse or punishment, but as God's blessing! Single and pregnant, for me, was a blessing!
Through that experience, I had to utterly depend on God's grace and mercy to get me through even the most mundane tasks, each moment of every day. God gave me the name, Corbin, for my precious baby. Corbin means, "gift, wholly dedicated to God." My sweet, and precious gift was born early on a cold, snowy, winter morning in February, 1999. All the shame, hurt, and humiliation was a small price to pay, for the squirming, ten-fingered, ten-toed, bundle of sweetness I was holding in my arms. I had my baby. I didn't need, nor did I want another man in my life! But, God had other plans.
In December, 2002, my parents decided to embark on a "find our daughter a suitable husband" quest! They signed me up on dating website with the understanding that they were going to choose the man! I was scared!! Blue-eyed-Cyclone was one among several dozen messages they culled through, from that dating site. I remember my mom saying, "Oh! This is the man you're going to marry!" Really?! An Iowa State Cyclone fan?! NO WAY!! We were an Iowa Hawkeye family!
Well, we had our first date after a month of corresponding via e-mail and phone calls. After a month of dating, Blue-eyed-Cyclone said we "needed to talk". I prepared myself for the "it's not you, it's me" talk, and drove to his house. He sat me down and started telling me how he had been thinking of me and praying about me at church that morning.
He said that as he prayed he realized something; "I'm going to say something, and I need you to NOT say anything back. Ok?"
"Ok", I said.
"Tammy, I love you! I need you to know that I love you. You need to be loved without any expectations on your part. Let me just love you. Don't say anything back to me. Just accept my love, and leave it at that." he said. My blue-eyed-cyclone stirred things up in my life and turned everything upside down.....but in such a good way.
Nine months later, he brought me back to Nashville to accompany him while he interviewed for a fellowship at Vanderbilt University. After his interviews, he took me for a walk along the riverbank in downtown Nashville. The same riverbank I used to sit on and lament the lack of true romantic love in my life, as I watched happy, in-love couples walk hand-in-hand under the moonlight. Blue-eyed-Cyclone stopped, and we sat down on the grass looking at the over-large, over-bright moon shining in the early fall sky. He maneuvered himself to kneel in front of me and began telling me all the things he loved about me, and how he was so thankful God had brought us together. Then, he was asking me to marry him, and he was putting a ring on my finger! Six months later, on March 19, 2004, we were pledging our love and vowing before God to be faithful to each other, until death parted us!
He got the fellowship, and we moved back to Nashville. I was no longer a single mother, working sometimes 70 hours a week just to make ends meet, while my precious little boy was being raised by daycare workers, and his stepmom while his father hunted, rode motorcycles, and played with his friends. I was married to a Godly man, who turned his own life upside down so he could better financially provide so that I could stay home and be a mother to my child.
As I was unpacking boxes and moving into my new life, I came across an old journal I had briefly kept while I was dating "John Doe". I read the entry for our first date, and saw the date I'd written down......March 19, 1993! Eleven years later, God had begun restoring my lost years!
My blue-eyed-cyclone and I have been married a little over nine years, now. I still stay home with my children, who are now Corbin - 14, Cameron - 8, Catherine - 7 and Carson - 7. My quiver is full. My children call me "blessed". My husband leads his family in the ways of the Lord. I never really knew what Joel 2:25 was all about, until now.
God is faithful. God's promises are true. What lost years do you need restored? Trust God. He has so much more to give you, than what you've lost!
Friday, May 28, 2010
It's the Little Things in Life...
Haven't taken the time to blog in quite a while. Been too busy living life, I guess. I had a birthday the other day. My three youngest children, Cameron (5), Catherine (nearly 4) and Carson (also nearly 4), woke up the morning of my birthday, bright and early (around 7am). They not-so-quietly gathered their art supplies (I laid in bed, listening to them) and took them into the dining room. I stayed quietly in my room hoping to get a few extra minutes of sleep.
A few minutes later, I heard their little feet slapping along the floor on their way into my bedroom. They were loudly whispering to each other to "shsh", and giggling as they walked up to my bed. Then, they just stood there for a few seconds giggling and whispering some more. I cracked open my eyes, and could just see their sweet little faces brightly lit with their enormous smiles holding their newly made pieces of art (more watercolor ponies).
Cameron immediately saw that I was awake and quickly led his younger brother and sister in a rousing, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MOMMY!!! We made these for you!" I took their sweet offerings and thanked each of them. Not bad for a five-year-old and nearly-four-year-old twins, all on their own I might add. Keith was already at work and Corbin was still fast asleep in his bed.
The moment didn't last long, however. As soon as I accepted my early morning "gifts", I was bombarded with demands for breakfast, and I gladly acquiesced. The rest of my day was filled with birthday wishes from friends and family, lunch with some dear friends, and ended with Keith and the kids taking me out to supper and a movie. After we got home, I got my presents! Keith had taken each of the children shopping and allowed them each to pick out their own present. Corbin gave me the Wheel of Fortune game! Cameron wanted to give me a movie with lots of hugging and kissing, so I got "Australia" from him. Catherine wanted to give me a pretty ring -- I got three with "diamonds". Carson told Keith he wanted to get me a tree. His face was lit with pure joy and excitement as he carried in my new azalea bush, which was nearly as big as he was!
My day was filled with hugs, kisses, declarations of love and birthday wishes. What a blessed woman I am! It brought me so much joy just to receive the small tokens of their love, from my children. It didn't take big gestures. Just knowing that my very young children remembered my birthday without prompting, was a priceless gift. Getting unsolicited declarations of love and hugs from my 11-year-old, was a "jewel of great price". Learning that my husband guided our children in learning a lesson of giving, was heart-warming.
How proud I was (and am) to be the wife and mother to this family!
I'm sure that God feels the same way about us. In those moments when we show Him our love without asking anything in return. When we sacrificially give of our time and money just because we want to show His love to others, what that must do to His heart! Not to mention how it makes the recipients of our time and money feel. When we give to God and love Him just for the pure enjoyment of wanting to please Him and love Him, it must make God so happy and proud to be our Father.
Just another lesson from my children on how I can be a better "child of God". How have you shown your heavenly "Daddy" how much you love Him, today?
A few minutes later, I heard their little feet slapping along the floor on their way into my bedroom. They were loudly whispering to each other to "shsh", and giggling as they walked up to my bed. Then, they just stood there for a few seconds giggling and whispering some more. I cracked open my eyes, and could just see their sweet little faces brightly lit with their enormous smiles holding their newly made pieces of art (more watercolor ponies).
Cameron immediately saw that I was awake and quickly led his younger brother and sister in a rousing, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MOMMY!!! We made these for you!" I took their sweet offerings and thanked each of them. Not bad for a five-year-old and nearly-four-year-old twins, all on their own I might add. Keith was already at work and Corbin was still fast asleep in his bed.
The moment didn't last long, however. As soon as I accepted my early morning "gifts", I was bombarded with demands for breakfast, and I gladly acquiesced. The rest of my day was filled with birthday wishes from friends and family, lunch with some dear friends, and ended with Keith and the kids taking me out to supper and a movie. After we got home, I got my presents! Keith had taken each of the children shopping and allowed them each to pick out their own present. Corbin gave me the Wheel of Fortune game! Cameron wanted to give me a movie with lots of hugging and kissing, so I got "Australia" from him. Catherine wanted to give me a pretty ring -- I got three with "diamonds". Carson told Keith he wanted to get me a tree. His face was lit with pure joy and excitement as he carried in my new azalea bush, which was nearly as big as he was!
My day was filled with hugs, kisses, declarations of love and birthday wishes. What a blessed woman I am! It brought me so much joy just to receive the small tokens of their love, from my children. It didn't take big gestures. Just knowing that my very young children remembered my birthday without prompting, was a priceless gift. Getting unsolicited declarations of love and hugs from my 11-year-old, was a "jewel of great price". Learning that my husband guided our children in learning a lesson of giving, was heart-warming.
How proud I was (and am) to be the wife and mother to this family!
I'm sure that God feels the same way about us. In those moments when we show Him our love without asking anything in return. When we sacrificially give of our time and money just because we want to show His love to others, what that must do to His heart! Not to mention how it makes the recipients of our time and money feel. When we give to God and love Him just for the pure enjoyment of wanting to please Him and love Him, it must make God so happy and proud to be our Father.
Just another lesson from my children on how I can be a better "child of God". How have you shown your heavenly "Daddy" how much you love Him, today?
Monday, May 3, 2010
Does God lose His patience?
Do you ever wonder if God loses his patience? As a parent, I look to God and His word for guidance and I look to God as the ultimate example of how a parent should be. As christians, we are His children and He is our Father, afterall. So, as the ultimate example, we should strive to treat our children and behave towards them as God does towards us.
As I told my children for the umpteenth time today, "Carson! Stop jumping on the couch!", "Catherine! Do NOT dump your cheerios on the floor!", "Cameron! Pick up your cars!", "Corbin! Pick up your clothes!", I found that I was losing my patience. After being cooped up in the house for two days, and schools being closed today because of the severe storms and flooding going on here in Tennessee, we were all going a little stir crazy.
I kept encouraging them ALL to go outside and play, since the rain had finally stopped and the sun was shining. Corbin took me up on my offer, but the other three said, "Mommy! I want you!" (see the previous post to note the significance of this phrase).
Well, honestly, I was growing weary of being "wanted". In an effort not to miss an opportunity to spend quality time with my children, I decided to load all four of them up in the van, and head in to the Super Target. Our goal was to eat pizza in their little cafe, get a birthday card for Daddy, then head back to the toys and play.
Surely, I would regain my patience as the children were distracted with food, birthday talk, and toys! Hope does spring eternal, they say.
Well, after the fifth piece of pizza was dropped on the floor, the 12th whiny demand was made, and the third fork was dropped, I found myself heading down an all-too-familiar path. I took a breath and counted. Pizza was finished without much of a hitch, so we headed over to the cards. This was most unfortunate.
I think the workers at Target must cringe when they see small children heading for the cards. My children had to touch EVERY card they could reach. These were not gentle touches, either. Please let me apologize in advance, for the bent and pizza sauce-stained cards that you must now endure because of my sweet little imps. Carson was lightning fast at grabbing cards, Catherine was like a stealth bomber as she gathered her sweet sentiments, and Cameron was like a bull in a china closet on a sugar high. He just kept grabbing the cards in a shark-like frenzy, his eyes flashing wildly. Corbin, however, in all his dignified 11 years, carefully grabbed the first card he saw that had some clever remark about how old Dad was getting. His card played music when you opened it. He knew how much it would torment the other three to hear the music of the card, but not be able to "touch" it, so he opened it many, many, many times for their listening enjoyment. :-)
This is where the sibling love came into play. Carson started whining that he wanted me to buy him a card like that. Catherine had buckled her seatbelt and couldn't get loose to get at Corbin's card, so she started screaming that she wanted out. Cameron began to cry and complain that Corbin wasn't sharing. Corbin just kept explaining, rather loudly, that this was HIS card and that he didn't want any of them touching it because they'd ruin it. All of this was taking place at eardrum-piercing decible levels as people were staring at me with the kind of looks that say, "That woman needs to get her kids under control!"
Well, my patience was gone now. I took all the cards away from them, scolded each one appropriately, and threatened them all with various tortures and dungeonesque punishments if they did not quiet down this instant and stop fighting!
Everyone calmed down, we stopped and smelled the roses (literally, we did, they're right there in the front of the store!), and proceeded back to the toy department. After about an hour, we purchased the birthday cards, and headed home.
I began to wonder, then, how often we as christians push God to His limits. But that begged the question, does God have a limit? I mean, does He ever "lose it" after we've whined and complained about everything under the sun?
Patience is a virtue. Galatians 5:22-23 says: "But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, PATIENCE, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Against such things there is no law." So, if patience is a fruit of the Spirit, and God IS the Spirit and He's perfect, then God NEVER loses his patience.
I can tell you, I know that I've pushed God harder and farther and tested Him so much more than my children could ever dream of testing me, yet He has NEVER lost his patience with me. He ALWAYS leads me back to right standing with Him. He never threatens or cajoles, He simply and lovingly corrects and calls. Yet another powerful parenting lesson I must learn.
You see, as I lost my patience with my children today, I later saw my oldest lose his patience with one of his siblings. That's the example I'm showing to my children. It's my job, as their mother, to show them God's ways, but today I showed them MY ways.
Oh God, forgive me! I pray that tomorrow I can be a better example of Galatians 5:22 to my children and exhibit the fruits of YOU rather than the fruits of my own imperfect and sinful nature.
As I told my children for the umpteenth time today, "Carson! Stop jumping on the couch!", "Catherine! Do NOT dump your cheerios on the floor!", "Cameron! Pick up your cars!", "Corbin! Pick up your clothes!", I found that I was losing my patience. After being cooped up in the house for two days, and schools being closed today because of the severe storms and flooding going on here in Tennessee, we were all going a little stir crazy.
I kept encouraging them ALL to go outside and play, since the rain had finally stopped and the sun was shining. Corbin took me up on my offer, but the other three said, "Mommy! I want you!" (see the previous post to note the significance of this phrase).
Well, honestly, I was growing weary of being "wanted". In an effort not to miss an opportunity to spend quality time with my children, I decided to load all four of them up in the van, and head in to the Super Target. Our goal was to eat pizza in their little cafe, get a birthday card for Daddy, then head back to the toys and play.
Surely, I would regain my patience as the children were distracted with food, birthday talk, and toys! Hope does spring eternal, they say.
Well, after the fifth piece of pizza was dropped on the floor, the 12th whiny demand was made, and the third fork was dropped, I found myself heading down an all-too-familiar path. I took a breath and counted. Pizza was finished without much of a hitch, so we headed over to the cards. This was most unfortunate.
I think the workers at Target must cringe when they see small children heading for the cards. My children had to touch EVERY card they could reach. These were not gentle touches, either. Please let me apologize in advance, for the bent and pizza sauce-stained cards that you must now endure because of my sweet little imps. Carson was lightning fast at grabbing cards, Catherine was like a stealth bomber as she gathered her sweet sentiments, and Cameron was like a bull in a china closet on a sugar high. He just kept grabbing the cards in a shark-like frenzy, his eyes flashing wildly. Corbin, however, in all his dignified 11 years, carefully grabbed the first card he saw that had some clever remark about how old Dad was getting. His card played music when you opened it. He knew how much it would torment the other three to hear the music of the card, but not be able to "touch" it, so he opened it many, many, many times for their listening enjoyment. :-)
This is where the sibling love came into play. Carson started whining that he wanted me to buy him a card like that. Catherine had buckled her seatbelt and couldn't get loose to get at Corbin's card, so she started screaming that she wanted out. Cameron began to cry and complain that Corbin wasn't sharing. Corbin just kept explaining, rather loudly, that this was HIS card and that he didn't want any of them touching it because they'd ruin it. All of this was taking place at eardrum-piercing decible levels as people were staring at me with the kind of looks that say, "That woman needs to get her kids under control!"
Well, my patience was gone now. I took all the cards away from them, scolded each one appropriately, and threatened them all with various tortures and dungeonesque punishments if they did not quiet down this instant and stop fighting!
Everyone calmed down, we stopped and smelled the roses (literally, we did, they're right there in the front of the store!), and proceeded back to the toy department. After about an hour, we purchased the birthday cards, and headed home.
I began to wonder, then, how often we as christians push God to His limits. But that begged the question, does God have a limit? I mean, does He ever "lose it" after we've whined and complained about everything under the sun?
Patience is a virtue. Galatians 5:22-23 says: "But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, PATIENCE, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Against such things there is no law." So, if patience is a fruit of the Spirit, and God IS the Spirit and He's perfect, then God NEVER loses his patience.
I can tell you, I know that I've pushed God harder and farther and tested Him so much more than my children could ever dream of testing me, yet He has NEVER lost his patience with me. He ALWAYS leads me back to right standing with Him. He never threatens or cajoles, He simply and lovingly corrects and calls. Yet another powerful parenting lesson I must learn.
You see, as I lost my patience with my children today, I later saw my oldest lose his patience with one of his siblings. That's the example I'm showing to my children. It's my job, as their mother, to show them God's ways, but today I showed them MY ways.
Oh God, forgive me! I pray that tomorrow I can be a better example of Galatians 5:22 to my children and exhibit the fruits of YOU rather than the fruits of my own imperfect and sinful nature.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Watercolor Ponies
I'm lying on the floor of my oldest two boys' room as they fall asleep in their beds. As I lie here, I've been reflecting on my day. I keep asking myself, "How did I do as a mom, today?"
I got Corbin up at 7:00am, gave him his clothes to wear, got him his breakfast, made his lunch, got his hair combed -- just right. I got my other three up and loaded into the van and just made it to Corbin's school in time for his dance practice at 7:30am.
After we got back home, I got breakfast for Cameron, Catherine and Carson. We watched a few cartoons, Catherine snuggled with me in the chair, the kids got dressed and went outside to play and they played in the basement. All-in-all, a fairly typical day.
I spent the day cleaning. Unfortunately, this was where I began to fail as a mom. I went up to the playroom and was unable to walk without stepping on a car, doll, puzzle, stuffed animal.....well, you get the picture.
As I bent over, again and again and again, to pick the toys up, my back would ache and I would get more and more irritated. Why did these children have to make such messes all the time?! Why can't they just pick up after themselves?! Don't they care about how much work they're causing me to do?!
Then they came inside and started messing up the downstairs that I had just cleaned! It was pretty late in the afternoon and I'd been so busy cleaning the upstairs, I hadn't put them down for naps yet. They were whiny, and arguing with each other, and tattling, running through the house and screaming........I reached critical mass and exploded. I yelled at them and marched them all upstairs for their naps, RIGHT NOW! Catherine spent the next two hours crying, further pushing me to my limits!
After two hours of Catherine crying, I finally went up and picked her up. She'd cried so hard, her hair was wet from a combination of tears and sweat. She threw her arms around my neck and cried, "Mommy! I want you". At first, I was unmoved. After all, didn't she know the stress she'd caused me this afternoon?!
As I held her, my hard heart began to finally melt. I got over life being about me, and saw that it needed to be about my daughter. She needed me. She needed me right now, and she needed me earlier in the afternoon, but I hadn't been there for her. I was so busy trying to clean my house that I neglected the needs of my children.
Before bed, I gave all three of the little ones their baths. I got them all washed, one by one, then dried them off and snuggled and tickled each one. I sat in the bean bag reading their bedtime stories as Catherine and Carson snuggled with me so closely, and Cameron sat on "sissy's" bed and kept showering me with kisses. That was all they'd wanted all day. Just to be held by me, and to shower me with their love.
I had some success as a mom, but I had some pretty big failures today, as well. As I sat with my children, and prayed with them, an old song by Wayne Watson came to mind, "Watercolour Ponies". The song talks about how quickly time flies and how much more quickly our children will be leaving our homes. It speaks of how it's our job as parents to direct our children to the Lord.
Carson drew a picture for me this afternoon as I was cleaning. He proudly brought it to me and said, "Mommy! Isn't it beautiful! I made it for you!" Corbin also brought home his watercolor painting that's been on display at the Frist Center. They're both so proud of their offerings to me. I don't want to forget these moments, and I don't want to take my children for granted again. There will come a day when I will long for those words, "Mommy! I want you!". I'll miss the offerings of sweet pictures drawn and colored with love, just for me.
Hug your children. Kiss them. Let them shower you with kisses while they still want to. All too soon, they're grown up and walking away, and your refrigerator will no longer be adorned with the watercolor paintings of things you don't recognize, but wouldn't take a million dollars for. Here are the lyrics to the song:
There are watercolour ponies
On my refrigerater door
And the shape of something
I don't really recognize
Drawn by careful little fingers
And put proudly on display
A reminder to us all
Of how time flies
Seems an endless mound of laundry
And a stairway laced with toys
Gives a blow by blow
Reminder of the war
That we fight for their well-being
For their greater understanding
To impart a holy reverance
For the Lord
But, baby, what will we do
When it comes back to me an you?
They look a little less
Like little boys every day
Oh, the pleasure of watching
The children growing
Is mixed with a bitter cup
Of knowing the watercolour ponies
Will one day ride away
And the vision can get so narrow
As you view through your tiny world
And little victories can go by
With no applause
But in the greater evaluation
As they fly from your nest of love
May they mount up with wings
As eagles for His cause
I got Corbin up at 7:00am, gave him his clothes to wear, got him his breakfast, made his lunch, got his hair combed -- just right. I got my other three up and loaded into the van and just made it to Corbin's school in time for his dance practice at 7:30am.
After we got back home, I got breakfast for Cameron, Catherine and Carson. We watched a few cartoons, Catherine snuggled with me in the chair, the kids got dressed and went outside to play and they played in the basement. All-in-all, a fairly typical day.
I spent the day cleaning. Unfortunately, this was where I began to fail as a mom. I went up to the playroom and was unable to walk without stepping on a car, doll, puzzle, stuffed animal.....well, you get the picture.
As I bent over, again and again and again, to pick the toys up, my back would ache and I would get more and more irritated. Why did these children have to make such messes all the time?! Why can't they just pick up after themselves?! Don't they care about how much work they're causing me to do?!
Then they came inside and started messing up the downstairs that I had just cleaned! It was pretty late in the afternoon and I'd been so busy cleaning the upstairs, I hadn't put them down for naps yet. They were whiny, and arguing with each other, and tattling, running through the house and screaming........I reached critical mass and exploded. I yelled at them and marched them all upstairs for their naps, RIGHT NOW! Catherine spent the next two hours crying, further pushing me to my limits!
After two hours of Catherine crying, I finally went up and picked her up. She'd cried so hard, her hair was wet from a combination of tears and sweat. She threw her arms around my neck and cried, "Mommy! I want you". At first, I was unmoved. After all, didn't she know the stress she'd caused me this afternoon?!
As I held her, my hard heart began to finally melt. I got over life being about me, and saw that it needed to be about my daughter. She needed me. She needed me right now, and she needed me earlier in the afternoon, but I hadn't been there for her. I was so busy trying to clean my house that I neglected the needs of my children.
Before bed, I gave all three of the little ones their baths. I got them all washed, one by one, then dried them off and snuggled and tickled each one. I sat in the bean bag reading their bedtime stories as Catherine and Carson snuggled with me so closely, and Cameron sat on "sissy's" bed and kept showering me with kisses. That was all they'd wanted all day. Just to be held by me, and to shower me with their love.
I had some success as a mom, but I had some pretty big failures today, as well. As I sat with my children, and prayed with them, an old song by Wayne Watson came to mind, "Watercolour Ponies". The song talks about how quickly time flies and how much more quickly our children will be leaving our homes. It speaks of how it's our job as parents to direct our children to the Lord.
Carson drew a picture for me this afternoon as I was cleaning. He proudly brought it to me and said, "Mommy! Isn't it beautiful! I made it for you!" Corbin also brought home his watercolor painting that's been on display at the Frist Center. They're both so proud of their offerings to me. I don't want to forget these moments, and I don't want to take my children for granted again. There will come a day when I will long for those words, "Mommy! I want you!". I'll miss the offerings of sweet pictures drawn and colored with love, just for me.
Hug your children. Kiss them. Let them shower you with kisses while they still want to. All too soon, they're grown up and walking away, and your refrigerator will no longer be adorned with the watercolor paintings of things you don't recognize, but wouldn't take a million dollars for. Here are the lyrics to the song:
There are watercolour ponies
On my refrigerater door
And the shape of something
I don't really recognize
Drawn by careful little fingers
And put proudly on display
A reminder to us all
Of how time flies
Seems an endless mound of laundry
And a stairway laced with toys
Gives a blow by blow
Reminder of the war
That we fight for their well-being
For their greater understanding
To impart a holy reverance
For the Lord
But, baby, what will we do
When it comes back to me an you?
They look a little less
Like little boys every day
Oh, the pleasure of watching
The children growing
Is mixed with a bitter cup
Of knowing the watercolour ponies
Will one day ride away
And the vision can get so narrow
As you view through your tiny world
And little victories can go by
With no applause
But in the greater evaluation
As they fly from your nest of love
May they mount up with wings
As eagles for His cause
Monday, April 26, 2010
Basketball
This past weekend was full of basketball. Corbin, our 11-year-old, plays on a competitive travel basketball team. They don't play games like your typical rec league (one or two games on a Saturday), but instead they play in three-day-long tournaments. The competition is stiff!
Corbin does a pretty good job playing. He, so far, hasn't excelled in basketball the way he did in hockey (got a hat trick most games he played). However, Corbin's forte has been defensive play. He can block shots, rebound, and overall intimidate his opponents by his size. At the young age of 11, Corbin is already 5' 4" tall! Off the pediatrician's growth charts, percentage wise.
He's the tallest boy on his team and typically one of the tallest or THE tallest out on the court during games. Which brings me to the tournament this past weekend. The first team the Blue Crush (that's the name of Corbin's team) played, were the biggest 11-year-old boys I've ever seen! Out of 12 boys, they had about 7 who were just as tall or taller than Corbin! And BOY! Were they coordinated!! We lost 44 to 10. Corbin felt pretty bad, but us parents all decided that those boys had to be sooooo much older than 11. They had to be at least 12! We did find out that they were from a private school, and that they'd been playing together for over 3 years. That took some of the sting of losing to them, out.
Saturday morning's game didn't fare much better, except that the score wasn't as severe (23 to 12).
Sunday's game, Corbin started in the Center position. There was a good reason for this. The opposing team had their tallest guy in the Center position and we had to answer in kind. Corbin walked out onto the court, took one look at his opponent, then he turned and looked at me. I would have given anything to have been able to take a picture of his face in that moment.
You see, typcially, when Corbin plays that position, he's looking at the top of his opponents head at best, or eye-to-eye at worst. Today, he was staring at his opponents bellybutton! NO JOKE! I saw Corbin walk out onto the court laughing and high-fiving his teammates and take his position in the center of the court. Then, he noticed the mountain standing in front of him. Corbin's head looked down at his opponents stretch limos first (a.k.a. feet) then as his head moved slowly upwards, taking in all 3000lbs. of his 12-foot-tall opponent, the reality of his situation hit him. He turned to me with his mouth open and eyes wide as if to say, "Mommy!".
The refs threw the ball up between Corbin and the "skyscraper", and this kid got his fingers on the ball almost before the refs let go of it. Have you ever seen the movie, "Princess Bride"? There's a scene where the hero, Wesley, has to face a giant in hand-to-hand combat. Wesley repeatedly throws himself against the giant nearly popping a vein in his head, all the while the giant just stands there not budging and inch. Wesley's efforts are a pure lesson in futility.
Our poor boys, Corbin included, would push against their giant of an opponent to the point that they'd nearly be on the floor with their efforts, but this kid didn't budge! We parents decided, by the end of the game, that this wasn't a kid but a full-grown man at least 32 years old.
Well, the team lost the game, 44 - 12. Corbin scored a basket and got three rebounds. It wasn't pretty and the boys felt pretty beat up by the time it was all over. I think they learned a lot this weekend, though. They learned where they're weak in their defenses, and passing. They also learned how to lose.
I think it's so important for children to learn this lesson. When they lose, and they survive, they come to realize that it's not such a bad thing. It seems nowadays, there's a big push to make sure that our children never "lose". Everybody gets a trophy, everybody wins a prize, all so that no one feels left out. If there are no losers, then no one wins either. If our children never feel the pain of losing, they'll never experience the joy of winning. If they never experience the joy of winning, they'll never learn the lesson of striving for excellence.
One of the hardest parenting lessons to learn, I think, is allowing your children to lose. Corbin felt the sting of losing for a few minutes, then we went and got some pizza. He also was allowed the spend a quarter on a game at the restaurant and he won a bouncy ball. All was right with the world again.
BTW - that boy, was actually about 185lbs, and 6 feet tall. But I'm sure, to Corbin , he looked 12 feet tall. :-)
Corbin does a pretty good job playing. He, so far, hasn't excelled in basketball the way he did in hockey (got a hat trick most games he played). However, Corbin's forte has been defensive play. He can block shots, rebound, and overall intimidate his opponents by his size. At the young age of 11, Corbin is already 5' 4" tall! Off the pediatrician's growth charts, percentage wise.
He's the tallest boy on his team and typically one of the tallest or THE tallest out on the court during games. Which brings me to the tournament this past weekend. The first team the Blue Crush (that's the name of Corbin's team) played, were the biggest 11-year-old boys I've ever seen! Out of 12 boys, they had about 7 who were just as tall or taller than Corbin! And BOY! Were they coordinated!! We lost 44 to 10. Corbin felt pretty bad, but us parents all decided that those boys had to be sooooo much older than 11. They had to be at least 12! We did find out that they were from a private school, and that they'd been playing together for over 3 years. That took some of the sting of losing to them, out.
Saturday morning's game didn't fare much better, except that the score wasn't as severe (23 to 12).
Sunday's game, Corbin started in the Center position. There was a good reason for this. The opposing team had their tallest guy in the Center position and we had to answer in kind. Corbin walked out onto the court, took one look at his opponent, then he turned and looked at me. I would have given anything to have been able to take a picture of his face in that moment.
You see, typcially, when Corbin plays that position, he's looking at the top of his opponents head at best, or eye-to-eye at worst. Today, he was staring at his opponents bellybutton! NO JOKE! I saw Corbin walk out onto the court laughing and high-fiving his teammates and take his position in the center of the court. Then, he noticed the mountain standing in front of him. Corbin's head looked down at his opponents stretch limos first (a.k.a. feet) then as his head moved slowly upwards, taking in all 3000lbs. of his 12-foot-tall opponent, the reality of his situation hit him. He turned to me with his mouth open and eyes wide as if to say, "Mommy!".
The refs threw the ball up between Corbin and the "skyscraper", and this kid got his fingers on the ball almost before the refs let go of it. Have you ever seen the movie, "Princess Bride"? There's a scene where the hero, Wesley, has to face a giant in hand-to-hand combat. Wesley repeatedly throws himself against the giant nearly popping a vein in his head, all the while the giant just stands there not budging and inch. Wesley's efforts are a pure lesson in futility.
Our poor boys, Corbin included, would push against their giant of an opponent to the point that they'd nearly be on the floor with their efforts, but this kid didn't budge! We parents decided, by the end of the game, that this wasn't a kid but a full-grown man at least 32 years old.
Well, the team lost the game, 44 - 12. Corbin scored a basket and got three rebounds. It wasn't pretty and the boys felt pretty beat up by the time it was all over. I think they learned a lot this weekend, though. They learned where they're weak in their defenses, and passing. They also learned how to lose.
I think it's so important for children to learn this lesson. When they lose, and they survive, they come to realize that it's not such a bad thing. It seems nowadays, there's a big push to make sure that our children never "lose". Everybody gets a trophy, everybody wins a prize, all so that no one feels left out. If there are no losers, then no one wins either. If our children never feel the pain of losing, they'll never experience the joy of winning. If they never experience the joy of winning, they'll never learn the lesson of striving for excellence.
One of the hardest parenting lessons to learn, I think, is allowing your children to lose. Corbin felt the sting of losing for a few minutes, then we went and got some pizza. He also was allowed the spend a quarter on a game at the restaurant and he won a bouncy ball. All was right with the world again.
BTW - that boy, was actually about 185lbs, and 6 feet tall. But I'm sure, to Corbin , he looked 12 feet tall. :-)
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Poo Poo Chronicles (old post...enjoy)
From: Monday July 21, 2008
Ok...........I think I have some of the most wonderful children on the planet! After all, what mother doesn't think that about her children? My three youngest, however, are seriously trying to send me into the Nut House!!!!!
In the past six months, I have endured my two youngest boys painting their sister's face with my makeup. I have dealt with them throwing clothes in the toilet (after someone had used it and DIDN'T flush!!). I've overcome them pulling the toilet paper from the roll (not tearing it off) and continuously flushing the toilet. I've even overlooked the toys, hair accessories, brushes, combs, toothbrushes, other clothing items, basically anything they can get their hands on, being thrown into the toilet bowl.
I thought I had witnessed the most disgusting thing, when one day I found my little girl sucking vigorously on a wash cloth. At first I didn't think anything of it, until I realized that the only water source she could access was, you guessed it, THE TOILET!!!!!!
Today, my three little cherubs got the bag of oranges off the counter top and played "organge bowl" with them, on my hardwood kitchen floor. All twelve oranges were split open and almost my entire floor was covered in sticky orange juice (if you've seen my kitchen, you know that it's no small task to clean my floors!). While I was cleaning that mess, they proceeded into my bathroom where they emptied out my drawers and scattered the contents all over my bathroom and bedroom floors. I was able to get them to sit and watch cartoons while I cleaned that up. I sat down for a minute, to catch my breath, when my daughter climbed up into my lap. She said, "Ah, poo-poos", then lifted her leg and stuck her hand in her diaper, I can only guess to prove to me that she did indeed have "poo-poos"!!
After I got her cleaned up, it was time for lunch (believe me, her hands have never been cleaner!!!). I made sandwiches for all three, gave them all some juice, then to my relief it was time for naps!!
I changed everyone's diapers, tucked them all in, then I settled down for some peace and quiet. Cameron woke up first (after 1 1/2 hours), and all was still just fine. Then, about an hour later I heard some panicked screaming coming from the twins' room. I ran upstairs to see what was wrong. The smell about knocked me over when I entered their room .Someone, obviously had a BIG poopy diaper. Catherine had gotten her leg stuck between the rails of her bed. I walked over to help her get loose, and the stench was almost unbearable. I looked at Carson who was lazily lounging in the corner of his bed. It was from him that this horribly offensive odor was emenating, and I immediately could see why.
My beautiful, precious, sweet little angel had filled his diaper with the most rank poopy I have ever had the displeasure of smelling. But he didn't just leave it in his odor trapping device. He stuck his hands (yes, hands - plural) down in his diaper and decided to take up finger painting with what he found inside!!! The only part of his body not decimated by this most odiferously foul stench, was his hair. There were his two, beautiful, perfect, mesmerizingly blue eyes peering out at me from the midst of his, well, "schooey"!!
I got Catherine loose from her bondage and set her outside the room. I opened the bathroom and began running a tub of water. I walked over to Carson, who by now had realized the error of his ways and innocently looked at me and proclaimed, "ICK!!!", while holding out his hands and arms in disgust. After MUCH rinsing (and gagging), I got my little imp clean, dried off, and diapered. I then stripped his bed of everything, the bumper, sheet, quilt, blankets, and Ernie, threw it all in the heavily soiled cycle in the washing machine and prayed for my husband to come home from work early!!!!
At dinner, Carson wasn't through wreaking havoc on himself. He plastered his belly with the fettucini noodles from our chicken alfredo dinner. Then, he rubbed alfredo sauce in his hair (I guess to make up for not rubbing the other "stuff" in his hair, earlier). He dumped his juice all over himself, his dinner plate, the table, and the floor, and to top it all off, drooled down the front of himself the entire time. After supper, we blew bubbles on the back deck, then threw the kids in the tub, then peace took over our house once again as we put the children down to bed, one-by-one.
Not sure how tomorrow is going to turn out. We told our three-year-old (under advisement from my mother) that the diaper fairy was coming to get all his diapers tonight for a needy little boy in town. So, beginning tomorrow he has to exclusively use the big boy potty. Pray for me!!!
I need a vacation!!
Not the aforementioned day, but yet another day of "finger painting" associated with poo! Gotta love my life!!! :-)
Ok...........I think I have some of the most wonderful children on the planet! After all, what mother doesn't think that about her children? My three youngest, however, are seriously trying to send me into the Nut House!!!!!
In the past six months, I have endured my two youngest boys painting their sister's face with my makeup. I have dealt with them throwing clothes in the toilet (after someone had used it and DIDN'T flush!!). I've overcome them pulling the toilet paper from the roll (not tearing it off) and continuously flushing the toilet. I've even overlooked the toys, hair accessories, brushes, combs, toothbrushes, other clothing items, basically anything they can get their hands on, being thrown into the toilet bowl.
I thought I had witnessed the most disgusting thing, when one day I found my little girl sucking vigorously on a wash cloth. At first I didn't think anything of it, until I realized that the only water source she could access was, you guessed it, THE TOILET!!!!!!
Today, my three little cherubs got the bag of oranges off the counter top and played "organge bowl" with them, on my hardwood kitchen floor. All twelve oranges were split open and almost my entire floor was covered in sticky orange juice (if you've seen my kitchen, you know that it's no small task to clean my floors!). While I was cleaning that mess, they proceeded into my bathroom where they emptied out my drawers and scattered the contents all over my bathroom and bedroom floors. I was able to get them to sit and watch cartoons while I cleaned that up. I sat down for a minute, to catch my breath, when my daughter climbed up into my lap. She said, "Ah, poo-poos", then lifted her leg and stuck her hand in her diaper, I can only guess to prove to me that she did indeed have "poo-poos"!!
After I got her cleaned up, it was time for lunch (believe me, her hands have never been cleaner!!!). I made sandwiches for all three, gave them all some juice, then to my relief it was time for naps!!
I changed everyone's diapers, tucked them all in, then I settled down for some peace and quiet. Cameron woke up first (after 1 1/2 hours), and all was still just fine. Then, about an hour later I heard some panicked screaming coming from the twins' room. I ran upstairs to see what was wrong. The smell about knocked me over when I entered their room .Someone, obviously had a BIG poopy diaper. Catherine had gotten her leg stuck between the rails of her bed. I walked over to help her get loose, and the stench was almost unbearable. I looked at Carson who was lazily lounging in the corner of his bed. It was from him that this horribly offensive odor was emenating, and I immediately could see why.
My beautiful, precious, sweet little angel had filled his diaper with the most rank poopy I have ever had the displeasure of smelling. But he didn't just leave it in his odor trapping device. He stuck his hands (yes, hands - plural) down in his diaper and decided to take up finger painting with what he found inside!!! The only part of his body not decimated by this most odiferously foul stench, was his hair. There were his two, beautiful, perfect, mesmerizingly blue eyes peering out at me from the midst of his, well, "schooey"!!
I got Catherine loose from her bondage and set her outside the room. I opened the bathroom and began running a tub of water. I walked over to Carson, who by now had realized the error of his ways and innocently looked at me and proclaimed, "ICK!!!", while holding out his hands and arms in disgust. After MUCH rinsing (and gagging), I got my little imp clean, dried off, and diapered. I then stripped his bed of everything, the bumper, sheet, quilt, blankets, and Ernie, threw it all in the heavily soiled cycle in the washing machine and prayed for my husband to come home from work early!!!!
At dinner, Carson wasn't through wreaking havoc on himself. He plastered his belly with the fettucini noodles from our chicken alfredo dinner. Then, he rubbed alfredo sauce in his hair (I guess to make up for not rubbing the other "stuff" in his hair, earlier). He dumped his juice all over himself, his dinner plate, the table, and the floor, and to top it all off, drooled down the front of himself the entire time. After supper, we blew bubbles on the back deck, then threw the kids in the tub, then peace took over our house once again as we put the children down to bed, one-by-one.
Not sure how tomorrow is going to turn out. We told our three-year-old (under advisement from my mother) that the diaper fairy was coming to get all his diapers tonight for a needy little boy in town. So, beginning tomorrow he has to exclusively use the big boy potty. Pray for me!!!
I need a vacation!!
Not the aforementioned day, but yet another day of "finger painting" associated with poo! Gotta love my life!!! :-)
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