The Cost of Love

 

Feeling a little sad this morning.  We decided it was time to say goodbye to our old boy Packer last night.  He was a fixture in our lives for 14+ years, and the house feels strange without him.  I missed him limping his way over to me this morning to give me a good morning hug.  He was a crazy dog...but he was so sweet and I loved him the best I could.

As I contemplate my heartache over a dog...it strikes me that God is love.  Jesus came in love.  The Holy Spirit ministers to us in love.  We are made in His image, and we are called to so thoroughly love that it's becomes a badge that enables the world to identify the followers of Jesus.

But there's a serious cost to follow that call.

It costs us to love.  It costs our very selves because love is an utterly selfless thing.  It is caring about someone else even above ourselves.  It is sacrificing and compromising and all giving...all pouring out.

Thankfully, love is designed to be a relationship - a two way street - a pouring out AND a filling up. 

We love God and He loves us infinitely MORE.

We love a spouse and they love us back.

We love and old dog and we're met with faithful tail wags, a little jump of joy when they see us, and a sweet friendly presence to be with us...even if they are a hairy mess with awful (AWFUL) breath!

It's designed to be good and beautiful - a literal reflection of the amazing heart and character of our Creator.

But still...there's a heavy cost when choosing to love in this lifetime.

Too often, love is not reciprocated.

Too often, "love" is selfish and cruel (not actually love, but a misuse of the word).

Too often, the one(s) who are meant to love us the most are wrapped up in fear and hurt and lies...the best they can do is respond harshly and selfishly instead of gently as they strive to protect their already wounded heart. All they can pour out to their partner is the fear and hurt and lies that they're ruled by...and this upside down culture of ours encourages this as "strength" or "toughness" or "independence".

And even when we do find/discover/develop a (near) perfect Godly love that removes fear...that is patient and kind...that is giving and humble...that is honoring and self-giving...that is slow to anger an forgives quickly...that is a source of joy and comfort

...even then, there is a cost.

There is the cost demanded by time itself.

We see the precious hands weaken and the wrinkles set in.  The hair grays and the walk slows.  Time marches...marches...marches...

We know where it's leading.  We tuck the dread away, and pray an earnest, "Maranatha!" 

Yet, despite the cost, I choose love.

I choose connection and tenderness.

I choose to give my heart...my whole self...away.

Yes, there is a very steep cost of love...

...and I believe it's worth it.

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Love Math & Why There's Always Enough

I was pregnant...AGAIN!

I was giddy.

I was shocked.

I was terrified!

Raise your hand if you've been there haha!  I hear it all the time... the greatest fear of a mom's heart when she's expecting another baby...

"I don't know if I have enough love for another baby!"

"HOW could I POSSIBLY love another person like I love my first child?"

"What if I'm just not cut out for loving another child?"

"What if this new baby somehow takes AWAY from the love I'm giving the child I already have?"

That's it right there, isn't it?  That's where the issue lies.  Or should I say, that's where the LIE lies?

Fiends....here's what I've discovered....

We've been doing the math wrong!

We look in the mirror and we see the shape of our body....the edges of the shell in which we live, and we see limits.  We see boundaries.  We see "only so much" and we assume that our love must be DIVIDED into the number of people we've been tasked with caring for.

We tell ourselves that "Right now I love as much as I can, so that must be my limit.  This max that I have to offer has to be DIVIDED and portioned out to all these people."

The natural world confirms this math, right?

There's only so much time.  Only so much money.  Only so much space.  Only so much energy.  Only so much...everything!  In the natural, we have to divide it up fairly and distribute it so everyone gets what they need...and boy, we do a lousy job of this in so many areas don't we?  So we see LACK.  We see "not enough".  We see limits.

But LOVE MATH is different....because love is not a limited "natural" resource!

Love is not a limited resource because it's fed by an unlimited Source, so there's always MORE to be had.

More than the sands on the shore.

More than the depth of the sea.

More than the stars in the sky.

And even those examples fall short because there is a measurable number of sands on the shore...there is a finite depth of the sea...there are only so many stars in the sky.  

Compared to the love that God can fill us with, the number of sands fall short...the sea is far too shallow...the stars too finite.  They are not only weak examples....they are infinitely inadequate examples.  Breathtaking, isn't it?

So rest easy, mama.  If you've been wrestling with thoughts of "I don't have enough love in me to offer another person"....start thinking in terms of multiplication instead of division!  Your Source of love is not yourself....it is God - He IS Love, and He is always MORE than enough!

"We have come to know and to believe the love that God has for us.  God is love, and whoever abides in love abides in God and God abides in him." 1 John 4:16

"Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God, and whoever loves has been born of God and knows God." 1 John 4:7

Lord, thank you for supplying me with even more than I need!  Sometimes I feel limited and like I'm just not enough....thank you for the reminder that I am not to trust my feelings because they shift and change by the minute.  YOU are true.  YOU are enough.  YOU are love.  YOU never change.  And, glory upon glory, it is YOU who lives in me!  I trust you, Lord.  Please reveal the areas of my life where I need to trust you more, so that I can earnestly surrender those areas and live in full alignment and submission to you.  Thank you for being strong in my weaknesses....may I be utterly weak in all areas so your strength shines through to the world!  For the building of your Kingdom and that all the world sees and knows your amazing love and grace, Lord Jesus. oxox

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From the Mouth of my Babe

Whew...got my world rocked this morning!

I sat with my kids during breakfast and we read a kids' daily devotional.  Today's reading was all about worry and how it's a form of unbelief....unbelief that God is with us, cares about us personally, and is able to handle our problems.  The reading encouraged us to express our worries to the Lord so He can carry them for us.  It seemed logical to ask my kids what they worry about.

"friends"
"getting good grades"
"what people think of me"
"tornadoes"
"puking on the bus ride for my field trip today" (haha!)

But then Thomas shared his little heart, and I almost cried!

"Mom, I worry about losing you and Daddy.  I'm afraid you'll get sick and die.  I'm afraid someone will hurt or kill you.  I'm worried that maybe you and Daddy won't want to be married anymore and one of you will marry someone else - that happened to a lot of people in my class."

Oh....felt like a gut punch!  I had no idea that my rambunctious, loud, silly little baby boy was carrying such a heavy burden!

I reassured him to the best of my ability...but ultimately...he will lose us.  Hopefully not for a very very long time.....but we will die.  I can't really tell him that we'll be here for him forever if we won't!

What to do but encourage him to turn his eyes to Jesus?  Jesus will never leave him.  As we sat with waffles and juice before us....we prayed.  We prayed for safety, for Luke's and my marriage, families that have been broken, friendships, bus rides....all of it.  We imagined putting all of our worries in a big box, closing the lid, and handing it to Jesus to take care of for us.

Ultimately though, my prayer is not to avoid the inevitable of death and loss.....instead, I pray that my kids all know and trust the Lord so they can get through the hard stuff with peace....joy, even.  I pray that they know Him and how much He loves them.....that they grow to only care about what HE thinks of them.

I'm just their earthy parent - boy, I feel small this morning - I can't protect and guide them their entire lives.  I'll do my best, of course....but I'll screw up, miss things, give bad advice, and eventually have to leave them.

Feeling overwhelmingly thankful this morning for Jesus....who is ready and able to fill the God-shaped hole in my babies like only He can.

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A Lowly Lump of Clay

I was frightened to the core last night.

Thomas, after having been up in bed for an hour, padded down the stairs looking a little pale in his soft jammies.

"Mama, come see!  On my bed...come see!  So yucky, you can't TOUCH it!  So yucky!  Come see!"

For the life of me, I couldn't figure out what he was talking about so I scooped him up and we went upstairs together.  As we reached his room, he wriggled out of my arms so he could dash ahead of me into his room.  Thomas snapped on the light and climbed up to his bed and pointed at the offending "yucky" on his bed.

I gasped in horror.

There on his bed, were 5 little plastic round toys -- just slightly bigger than marbles, about an inch in diameter each.  They sat on Thomas' bed in a smelly puddle of vomit.

It was clear what had happened even before Thomas rushed to explain what I was seeing.

"I had them in my mouth, Mama.  ALL of them in my mouth, and my cheeks went like this (as he puffed out his cheeks like a little blow-fish).  And then, they all came out with the yucky stuff.  SO yucky, Mama.  You can't touch it!"

My mind was a whirlwind of anger....scolding him for putting things in his mouth....and of thanksgiving....thank you Lord for protecting him....and of terror....we would have just found him lying in his bed in the morning....he would have just been here all night long all by himself....and of panic....I simply can not protect these children, no matter how hard I try.

My night was one of restless nightmares and trying to control my thoughts from headed down the dreaded "what if" path.  Taking my thoughts captive after something like that is harder than normal!

I turned to the Word this morning for a bit of encouragement and perspective.  After all, I know that our days are numbered even before our birth.  When it comes to ME, I'm just fine with that truth.  But my children?  I'm okay with that truth....just as long as their number comes up sometime AFTER mine does!

But who am I to hold on to that sort of control?  Who am I to turn to the LORD and declare that it will be fine, and good, and He will be called loving....only as long as things go the way I think they should?

Yes, my heart was primarily thankful and awe-struck last night as I realized just what sort of holy ground my life is....ground made holy by God Almighty Himself stepping daily in and around my life and keeping His mighty wing of love and protection over me and my family.  Breathtaking.

And yet, in His loving and gentle way, He brought me to my knees before Him as He showed me my heart of sin.

"Woe to the one who quarrels with his Maker -

An earthenware vessel among the vessels of earth!

Will the clay say to the potter, 'What are you doing?'"

Isaiah 45:9

I am that earthenware vessel....that lump of clay in the Master Potter's hand. Who am I to question His methods?  His vision?

He's been lovingly and gently shaping me into the perfect vessel.  But what if this clay gets a bit tough....will He add water to soften me....making me feel a bit like I'm drowning, but then revealing the beauty at the very last moment?  Or will He simply smash the vessel that's distorted because of the tough clay in order to start again?

Or will He create a simple humble pot, when I desire a thing of beauty instead?

Or...will He create what seems a perfect, delicate, beautiful vessel to contain His Holy Spirit....only to smash and crack it so that the Spirit can more easily seep into the world though the cracks?

I won't lie.  It's scary to think about.

It's scary in part because I've seen Him work in other people's lives....in ways that I fear would destroy me.

At the end of the day though, I have to rely on who I know Jesus to be.  He is the lover of my soul.  He is a warrior for my salvation.  He endured the impossible because of His love for me.  He sustained those people who I expected to be crushed under His hand.

He protected my little boy last night.

And so I sit here a lowly lump of clay in my Loving Potter's hands.

Lord, make my life a thing of beauty in Your sight.

And Lord....thank you for your grace and mercy last night and each night.  Thank you for loving this silly little lump of clay.

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So Long, Old Friend

Dear Diapers,

It's been a good relationship, a useful relationship.

You've done a great job, and I thank you for your service.

We've been through a lot, you and I.  The thick, the...ahem...thin.  The stinky.

But after being inseparable for 9 solid (and not so solid) years, we're through.

I've moved on.  This little family of mine, we've grown.

Sadly (for you), there is no place for you here anymore.

Please don't take this the wrong way, but you will not be missed.

So this is it, Old Friend.  It is finally...

good. bye.

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I Love You...Get Away From Me

I've started and re-started this post three times now.  Don't really know where to start, but want to get this down for posterity's sake.  For the sake of my children who might find themselves in this same strange situation.  But I can not...will not...name names.  It doesn't matter anyway.

"Kiss me goodnight, Mama"

   (kiss)...smelly burp in the face from my child...

"I love you, Mama.  Snuggle me."

   (snuggle)...wiggle, squirm, elbow to the nose...

"I have a surprise for you.  Close your eyes."

   (closed)...kiss on the cheek...piercing pinch on the arm...

       why?

"I need this Mama.  Will you do it for me please?"

   Sure baby, here you go.

      "I don't like it.  Never mind."

          Never mind?   Never mind the three days I just put into doing this for you?  Making it perfect?

"I need help.  NO.  LET ME DO IT!" screaming...

   Okay, I don't know what do do. 

        Love you?

          Get away?

              Both...at the same time?

I don't know how to give you what you need, my sweet child.

You want my affection, so I give it.  What you return is insult and physical pain.

You want my trust, so I give it.  You return a little love, a little pain.

You want my help, so I give it.  What you return is screaming and frustration.

You want me to leave you alone, so I do.  You return is yet more screaming and frustration.  

Is this how God feels?  He wants to love us, wants us to love Him back.  He continually reaches out and gives us what He knows we want and need.  What we return is rebellion.  We return ingratitude.  We return bitterness.  We return pain.

A strong willed child, that's what they say.  

Just rest, my little one.  Let me love you.  Feel my arms around you and know you're safe.

    Just accept this, my sweet.  Let me do this for you.  Know that I care for you.

A constant push...pull...push...pull

    I love you....now get away from me.

       I need you....let me do it myself.

           I want you....I don't want to want you.

               Don't help me....why did you let me fail?

Am I not doing this right?  How is it that I don't know how to be what you need?  I'm so afraid...for you...for me...for us.  What will your future be if your own mother can't seem to love you 'right'?

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Being an Engineer Was Much Easier

I graduated from college with a BS in Mechanical Engineering.  My GPA was pretty solid, and I had a couple of engineering internships under my belt by the time I went looking for a full time job.  I didn't have to look very far.  I had several offers for employment (some even with sign-on bonuses, and moving bonuses) before I hit spring break my senior year.

I went to work for an internationally known engineering company, and I was doing fun stuff.  I was working in manufacturing, and eventually worked my way into an R&D group and helped design a new inkjet cartridge.  I traveled.  Some of my work was patented.  I was making nearly 6 figures after working for only 4 years.

I was on fire - in demand - successful - working hard...

and totally NOT doing what I wanted to be doing with my life.

Fridays were my life-blood... strong gin and tonics ranked right up there too.  Come Sunday evening, I was in tears.  Monday mornings (and often times Tuesday and Wednesday and Thursday), I knew at which stop light I needed to be done crying so that I'd have enough time to recover and look presentable at the office.

Way down deep in my gut, I knew what I wanted.  I'd always known.  I wanted to be a mom.

So, we did what seemed perfectly logical to me:   we got a dog.

And then another.

I took pictures of them, and even put the pictures up on my computer and walls of my cubicle.  My co-workers were kind enough to ask how "the dogs" were.  I went home every day for lunch to let them outside and throw a ball for a few minutes.

Still...the tears kept coming.

And then, FINALLY, we were able to start our family.  I sat in meetings day after day and doodled baby names in my notebook...all while nodding and throwing my two cents in the conversation to try and cover for my obvious distraction.  I munched pretzels and tried hard to not throw up during conference calls.

And then...the first ultrasound.  LIFE!  A heartbeat!  It was a love like I'd never fathomed.  I got the courage up to bring the little black and white photo to work with me and make my announcement...what a day!

I was 6 months pregnant with our first child when Luke and I decided that it was time for me to "retire". I gave notice at work, and within a couple of weeks, I was on my way to the life of leisure I'd dreamed of.

Well - that first pregnancy was pretty leisurely.  I slept a lot.  I ate even more.  I would lie on the couch for hours and just daydream and feel my little one moving.  I shopped for baby stuff.  I got the nursery ready.  I washed tiny clothes and hung them neatly in the closet.

This.  THIS is what I was meant to do.

My little Benjamin was born in December of 2001.
My little Clara was born a mere 14 months later in February of 2003.
Sweet Samantha followed 2 years and 9 months later in November of 2005.
And finally, our little Thomas arrived in September of 2007.

I look back at that 20 something young woman who longed for the leisurely life of a stay at home mom, and you know what I do...I'm sure you know... I roll my eyes and I laugh my butt off!

Any job which demands being "on" 24 hours a day, every day, for...oh...about 23 YEARS in a row is not leisurely.

Any job which involves this many other people's bodily fluids is not leisurely.

Any job which will beat you down and make you feel like little more than a worker ant...with no pay or privacy enough to use the bathroom alone...is not leisurely.

Any job at which multiple people are frequently screaming/hitting each other/ crying is not leisurely.

Any job with stakes this high is not leisurely.  As an engineer, the worst that could happen was me losing my job or getting written up.  Here...I'm growing PEOPLE...messing up here is far more problematic than missing a deadline or botching a presentation.

The idea for this post came to me while I was in the shower today.  I realized that it's been a couple of days since my last shower, and I had the thought:

Any job that leaves me putting "bathed" or "ate" or "slept" on my personal accomplishment list for the day is not a leisurely job!

And frankly, there are still days when I wake up and feel like bursting into tears!  I can't do this!  I'm no good at this!  I'm exhausted!  What about me?!



But you know what?  I love this crazy, demanding, exhausting job.  Love it.  I can't think of anything else that I could do with my time that is more important or rewarding.

Four people will someday go out into the world, and part of the good (and yes, the bad) that they contribute will be because of me.

Four people are (hopefully) learning how it looks to love and live for the very Author of Life under my care.

Four people will (hopefully) leave my home knowing what it means to be loved and respected and cherished.

Four people will (hopefully) have their own families, and will know what a happy marriage looks like.

Four people will (hopefully) gain the courage and confidence to be the people God made them to be...to live the way He wants them to live...and to made a difference for His Kingdom.

And of course, in the mean time I get the sheer joy of getting to know these wonderful children.  I get hugs and kisses and cuddles and "I love you"s.  I get to see their eyes light up when they see or understand something for the first time.  I get to smell their sweet heads after bath time.  I get to press my cheek to their soft cheek as I tuck them all cozy in their beds at night.  I get to be the first woman my sons share a dance with.  I get to trim the hair and clean the ears.  I get to hear the silly songs and jokes.  I get to mark their growth with a mark on the pantry door each year.  I get to practice spelling words and bake cookies and birthday cakes.  I get to be the Mom.

Yeah, being an engineer was far, far easier and less stressful than this motherhood gig.  And sure, the pay here might stink, but the benefits...the benefits positively ROCK.

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Cousins

Sometimes I can hardly believe that God gave me a little girl to raise (never mind TWO!). Here's Clara (on the left) with her cousin on the day of Clara's birthday party. What a couple of beauties, eh?

We've already begun construction on the cell we're going to lock her in until she's 23 or so. We figure she can communicate with her peers via the internet and webcam. This way, she can be kept safely away from the boys until she's mature enough to emerge from her cell to marry the nice Christian man we've chosen for her.

I'm nothing if not prepared ;-)

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The Vacant Space

I have a confession. I've been holding out on you.

I found a blog that is challenging and changing me like none other, and I just can't NOT share any longer. You can find it HERE (The Internet Binge). The amazing woman who writes this blog is actually someone I love and respect very much. She is my sister-in-law (married to Luke's brother). You might recognize her voice...Esther comments here from time to time.

After blogging each day for a month, Esther is stepping away from the internet for an entire year. No blogs. No email. No Google. No You Tube. No news pages. Nothing. Zilch. Nada. Cold turkey! Think about it!! Does it make your blood run a little chilly? It does mine! What would I DO without the internet?!

But here's the question of the hour...WHY?

Why does the idea of no internet access make me feel almost frantic?

Esther recently wrote about being a SAHM and how the internet helps to fill an empty space. The way she wrote it...it took my breath away! She said:

"They [children] force you to make space for them and then they don't fill it"

How beautiful and perfect is that statement. It really got me thinking about the vacant space that feels like it sits in the middle of my chest. I'm always feeling like I'm overwhelmingly needed. My to do list is infinite. The people who surround me are constantly in my face and near me and ON me (and don't get me wrong, I love it!). So how can I so often feel bored and lonely? It's that vacant space. When I'm forced away from the internet for a period of time - even just days or a week. That empty spot leaves me literally wandering around the house...a nibble of a chip here...a watering of a plant there...an adjusting of a crooked photo on a wall...a glance at myself in the mirror...thumbing through a magazine... Eventually I sit and rest and go to that space. It's then that I realize that it's in that spot that God resides. Why do I spend so much time filling that space with busy work and avoiding Him, I wonder? Maybe I'm the one who should be finding the big "OFF" switch on the internet.

What about you? Where would you be without the internet?

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Oh, the Joys...

I loved being pregnant.  

Well, the first 2 or 3 months weren't so fun.  I lived little more than vanilla yogurt, and nearly threw up at every food commercial on TV.  I remember screaming at the TV one day "That should be illegal!  That's obscene and disgusting!"  Then I started to gag a little at the pictures of (gasp) Applebee's food....then I cried because I was feeling a tad insane.

Aside from THAT, I loved being pregnant.

I felt good about myself and my little role in the miracle of bringing a new life into the world.  

I actually liked maternity clothes...excuse me...they're all soft and comfy with tons of elastic.  What's not to love?!  And by the time I was pregnant with Thomas, maternity clothes was actually fairly fashionable too.

And, talk about miracle, I liked my body during pregnancy too.  I felt beautiful...the whole glowing thing I guess.  

That brings me to my story...

I was pregnant with Clara.  Ben was just a little guy.  He was only 13 months when she was born, so I guess he was probably 12 months old when this story took place (oh my...how did I DO that?!).

Ben and I went to the store for groceries.  More specifically....we went to the store for avocados.  I'm a guacamole junkie, and what better time to indulge yourself with all your favorite treats than during pregnancy?

I was thrilled to find some avocados that were actually ripe enough to eat THAT day.  Oh...God is good, indeed!

So I got my avocados, and then I cruised around the super-store for an hour or so to just see what I could see.  I did that a lot when my kids were really little - got us out of the house.

On that particular day, I felt really great because of all the positive attention I was getting at the store.  People seemed to stop and just watch glorious me walk by with my beautiful baby boy.  My round belly was getting all sorts of appreciative looks - smiles all around.

Dang...I must be one hot mama!  (Just kidding....even in my most confident moments I didn't quite go that far!)

But I did feel good.  I felt alive.  Happy.  Pretty.  Proud of my little boy.  Excited to be pregnant.  REALLY excited to get home and have some guac.  Life was good.

And then, Ben and I went to get in the car.  As we strolled outside, he in the cart and me pushing, he was adamantly trying to get my attention about something.  He was reaching and pulling and just doing all he could to to...what? ....grab my shirt?  I didn't understand what he was doing.

So I looked down to inspect my shirt.  Nothing.

My little Benjamin would not let up.

So I grabbed the bottom of my shirt and pulled it away from my body to better inspect it.  If you've been pregnant, you understand what I'm talking about.  When you're THAT pregnant, there's a whole southern hemisphere of your body that you CAN'T SEE because...well...your eyes reside in the northern hemisphere.

And guess what I found when I inspected said southern hemisphere?

I found this stuck to my shirt:

Apparently, when I leaned over the avocados, my shirt picked up one of the stickers and it found it's way to the perfect location of my full (RIPE) belly.  I'd been walking around with it for a good hour.

I'll just leave it at that.  I could go on to describe how I felt in that moment, but I won't.  I'd hate to interrupt your laughter....

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Teach Your Child To Sleep In

Oh, Yawn!

Thomas has been waking earlier and earlier lately, and his mama is sleepy!  It's feeling awfully familiar - Clara did the same thing.  It got to the point where she was waking pretty regularly at something like 5 AM.  

Not.  Good.

Normally, I'd force the issue (which means crying), but with the boys in the same room...I don't want to keep Ben up.  

I was sitting on the couch like a zombie after getting Thomas up this morning, when a memory flashed through my sleep deprived brain like a ray of light.  I'll do what I did with Clara!  It taught her to sleep in, it involved minimal crying, and it's a fairly quiet process that might mean more sleep for Ben.  

I also thought "I gotta tell people about that method - it worked GREAT!"

So I wrote all about it.  If you have a little one who wakes up too early, give it a try and let me know how it works.

You can find info here:  How to Teach Your Child to Sleep Later

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Excuse Me?

So my hubby went on a backpacking trip today.  He and our brother in law loaded up their packs, and they're headed to the Idaho mountains.  I heard them talking, and it sounds like they'll get up over 10,000 feet!  Praying for a safe return...

As they were leaving, my brother in law turned to Ben and said, "You gonna take care of your family while your Dad's away?"

"Yep, I'll be the man of the house."

"Okay, well take good care of them."

"I will."

THEN...as if I was caught in the Twilight Zone or some strange body-snatching movie...my first born son turned to me and said...

"Go do the dishes."

PARDON?

He delivered his whopper of a line with a straight face, but a moment later he was  laughing, and honestly...so was I.  It was just so unexpected!  I was thankful that he was laughing because it showed me that he was only teasing.  He was probably thinking of the occasional teasing ("woman, go do the dishes") that goes on between Luke and myself.  

But it certainly made me really think hard about what sort of example and expectations Ben is growing up with.  Are we raising a young man who will make a good husband and father?

It was clear that he was kidding, but it warranted a discussion anyway (that'll teach him to tease me like that!).  We talked about all the work Daddy does to take care of us around here, and how lots of that work even includes work that some might think of as "work for girls" like the laundry and dishes and diaper changing.  I also reminded Ben that Daddy spoils me rotten...rubbing my feet while we watch TV at night, letting me sleep in on the weekends, praying for and with me, surprising me with flowers from time to time, etc.

And then we talked about what it means to be in charge...more specifically, what it means to be a GOOD boss.  

Yes, Daddy's the boss around here...but he has a boss too.  Who is it?  Do you think that some daddies and husbands boss their wives and kids around by telling them what to do all the time?  You're right, they do.  Do you think the wives and children feel loved when they're bossed around?  Me either.  What kind of boss do you want to be some day?  Oh good...I want your wife and children to be happy too.  And honey, I'll guarantee you one thing...if you're wife isn't happy, it won't be easy for you to be happy either.  You're going to be a great husband and daddy some day.   

A wise friend of mine said "I'm not raising children, I'm raising adults".  Isn't that a great point?  It's one that I've been reminded of a lot lately - how what I'm doing right NOW effects the type of adults these children will grow into (gulp).  I'm so thankful that I have a husband who loves and follows the Lord....and I'm so thankful that our ultimate "boss" loves us so much.

Now, excuse me please.  I really do have to go do the dishes!

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The God of Children and Their Mommies

We've been going to "Family of Promise" meetings at our church recently.  It's a once a month thing - the first one was about the role of a husband in the family, the second about the role of a wife, and the third was about the role of parents.

Honestly, I was tempted to skip the third one (which was just this last Monday).  It's not that I feel we have the parenting thing down pat...it's just that I felt like sitting home and reading my book instead.

Boy, would I have missed out.

I was touched to the very core.  Unfortunately for me, getting touched to the core means bawling my eyes out like a blubbering baby.  Embarrassing.  But unavoidable.

I want to raise our kids to be individuals with their own passions, personalities, and little quirks.  The problem is that most days I treat them more like I want them to be my perfect little robot-children doing what I say and doing it NOW, thank you very much.  Not good.

When I think of the experience my children have with me many days....who is their mommy?  Hard.  Demanding.  Angry.  Impatient.  I just can't help but cry.

The problem is that their mommy is...ME.  Daiquiri Rose.  I'm passionate and outspoken and tend to have a rather tough attitude.  Deal with it.  Or don't.  I don't much care.

But with my kids, I care.

And I don't know how to change who my kids' mommy is.  Sigh.

Thankfully, there is One who knows how to soften hearts and attitudes.  I've been begging him to do His thing in me for the past couple of days.  For the sake of my babies.

I'll tell you, yesterday was eye opening.  By the grace of God, we had a very different day around here.  I saw my kids in a different light - in light of the truth that these children do not belong to me at all.  They're God's people...I've just been blessed with the incredible privilege of helping to raise them.

More discussing, less ordering.

More enjoying their company, less trying how to get my stuff done despite their interruptions.

 

More helping and molding, less punishment.

I'm not gonna do it perfectly.  I just can't.  My main goal is to teach my kids about Him (and to not bite each other), so that they can call on the great Healer and Prince of Peace during those times when I screw it up.  I am deeply thankful that I have a God who can more than make up for my shortcomings and fill in any holes I might leave in their little hearts.  

*FOR SUBSCRIBERS:  Sorry for all the updates - trying to resolve some technical difficulties with photo uploading.

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Evidence

They bicker.

They hit.

They bite.

They scream.

But at the end of the day, when Sammy says "I wub you Tommy" (just before she whacks him on the head with a wooden mixing spoon)...I know we must be doing something right.

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Goin' eHow Crazy (gingersnaps & handling a bully)

Seriously, are you sick of the phrase "I wrote another article" on this blog yet?  I sort of am!  I just love eHow though - it totally appeals to the OCD in me...that tidy list of articles all sorted and organized and easy to print.  Purrrr ;-)

So...I wrote another article.  Two actually.   The first is a recipe for those amazing cookies up there (thanks to my good friend Michele), and the second is about helping your school-aged child deal with bullying.  

It was just a few months ago that Ben sort of casually announced "there's a bully at my school".  After a brief conversation, I realized that it was MY boy who was being bullied. 

LET ME AT THAT PUNK!

But then I realized that this was an opportunity.  I taught Ben how to handle the bully, and now Ben (and his friends) seem to be immune to little Mr. Tough Guy.  And my boy?  His confidence shot through the roof.  It was a joy to see.

Anyway...here are those articles if you're interested.  As always, I appreciate your rating and recommendations :-)

Recipe: Gingersnap Cookies 

How to Help Your Child Deal With a Bully

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My Heart...

...has lived outside of my body in the most frightening and joyous way since the birth of my first child.  This little guy carries 1/4 of it around with him at all times.

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Negotiations

Look at me - two posts in one day!  I just couldn't resist telling you about a conversation I just had with Clara:

"Mom, I'm still hungry."

"Well you're in luck.  How about you finish your lunch?"

"No.  I want nothin' 'cept candy."

"Finish you're lunch, girly."

"No!  I want candy!  I'm hungry and I'm not eating nothin' 'cept candy, so if you want me to eat somethin', then you're gonna have to give me candy!"

"No.  Lunch.  Now."

"I'll eat lunch food after you give me my candy food."

"Sorry.  I have a strict policy: I don't negotiate with terrorists."

"Huh?"

"Eat your lunch."

Turns out she was hungry because she did finish her lunch.  I guess a girl has to try anyway.  Did you notice the wonderful grammar going on in there too?  Such a proud mommy moment ;)  

Some day she's going to call me on the phone and tell me about how crazy her child is making her.  I'm going to say only a few words: "Blog.  March 18, 2009.  Not the soccer one."

PS.  I just realized that my last post?  It was my 600th post (yes, six hundred)!  Holy cow!  And no one has even told me to shut up yet.  No, that's not an invitation... ;)

PPS.  I can't take credit for the "terrorists" reply.  Clara only has one parent clever enough to come up with something like that, and I'm not that parent.  Totally stole that one from hubby...

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Works For Me: Toothpicks and Chocolate

Sometimes adding a little special twist to the same old boring foods is all it takes to get my kids excited about eating them again.  

Bananas?  Again?  No...not just any bananas... chocolate bananas and you MUST eat them with the toothpick!  There you have it-  3 entire (almost too ripe to eat) bananas, GONE in a flash!

It's not the first time that toothpicks have come in handy around here.  

Head on back to We Are THAT Family for more great hints and tips...

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The Mommy Compromise

I will read you Goodnight Moon until I have dreams of a "great green room", and I'll keep reading it because I want you to love reading and using your imagination....and because I love to smell your hair while you sit on my lap during story time.

I will deny you ice cream for dessert when you refuse to eat your vegetables.  You will grow to have a healthy and strong body, and you'll learn that there are natural consequences associated with your choices.

You will sometimes choose to be naughty.  I will discipline you, and I will insist that you apologize to the offended party.  You will learn humility and the peace and healing that is found in being forgiven.

I will sometimes hurt your feelings or treat you unfairly.  You will better understand why it's so important to treat people the way you'd like to be treated.  And when I apologize, you will learn the peace and healing that can be found in forgiving someone.

You might have to dig through the "to fold" laundry basket to find them, but you have clean underwear to wear.

You can choose to dislike the name we gave you, but I will always love it because it reminds me of a time when you were a little bundle of sweet smells and sounds nestled safely in my arms.

Your best friends might someday hurt you by calling you "out of touch", "closed minded", or a "prude".  But I will teach you the truth of Jesus anyway.  I pray you'll let Him be your true best friend.

I understand that you really, really, really want that new toy.  But you don't need another toy (and we don't always have extra money to spend).  You'll learn that you're not entitled to everything you want right now.

You might feel entitled to that toy anyway, and will decide to use your own money to buy it.  You'll learn the value of a dollar, how hard it is to save, and that there's a difference between earning something and being entitled to it.

You might not get a bath every other night, but you will have a clean face and hands, brushed hair and teeth, and clean clothes.  

Your Mommy might seem distracted sometimes by her 'to do' list, the book she's reading, or the phone call she's on...but you will learn that your Mommy is a person too, and that sometimes you have to wait patiently for her to finish what she's doing.

I will make you pick up your toys, and you will learn the difficult but very real burden of responsibility.

Sometimes, Mommy and Daddy will go do something fun without you.  You'll learn that Mommy and Daddy are a team and that we enjoy each other's company.  Hopefully, our relationship will be a strong enough example for you that you never settle for someone less than God's best for you because you're lonely.  It's better to be alone with God than together with the wrong person.

You will sometimes wonder why we ever had more children than one (you).  The world would just be so much easier for you if you were our sole focus and you didn't have to share you toys or room with anyone.  But someday Daddy and I will be in Heaven, and you'll be so glad to have someone to share with.

I will make you say "please" and "thank you" and "excuse me" until we're all just plain sick of hearing me say the words "what do you say?", but you will learn manners because it's a way we communicate respect with the people in our lives.

I will sometimes lose my temper.  I will sometimes spill the milk.  I will sometimes use a voice that is not loving or kind.   You will be a bit shaken to see me stumble, but you'll learn that no one is perfect and that life goes on even when we make mistakes.

Sometimes I'll pick up your toys when you really don't want to do it.  Sometimes I'll let you have ice cream for dessert even when you don't finish your vegetables.  Sometimes I'll buy you that new toy even though you don't need it (and we don't have a whole lot of extra money).  And you'll learn that you're worth spoiling from time to time...and you'll learn that sometimes a Mommy just wants her kids to feel special and cherished no matter the cost. 

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Our Tax Dollars At Work

There's a kid in Virginia who's not doing the best in school.  His parents had him tested for any sort of condition that might be holding him back - thankfully, he's fine...just "bored" with school and not working at it.

They've tried every type of discipline they can think of, but nothing worked.  So they got creative.  They offered him the choice to either give up his beloved cell phone for 2 weeks OR stand on a street corner with a sign displaying his grades for a couple of hours.  The kid chose the street corner.  

It seems to have worked better than any other form of discipline they'd ever tried.  Strangers stopped and talked to the kid, and their words sunk in like his parents' hadn't.  He's doing better in school.  Yippee.  Interesting story.  Let's all move on with our lives, right?

Um, no.

Child Protective Services are investigating the parents now.  Apparently, they're all kinds of concerned for this kid's mental state after his horrible discipline.  Could this be mental abuse?  Puh-leez.

I'd like to draw CPS's attention to one of the government's favorite words: CHOICE.  This block-head chose his own discipline.  He chose the street corner over giving up his phone.  

Can I just make one more observation?  A child's (under 18) right to choose is fully respected and protected under abortion laws.  In that same state, a child can go to Planned Parenthood, and they'll work with girls to get a judge to waive the requirement that a pregnant girl's parents be notified that she's about to abort her baby.

So a girl can choose to end her inconvenient pregnancy (without CPS involvement, I might add)...but a boy of the same age can't choose to stand on the corner telling the world of his academic status?

I just can't think of anything more messed up.  

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