Wednesday we went to Lafayette to get pictures of Zech for his birthday. While we were there Matt did his last minute Christmas shopping. We had a wonderful dinner at a new restaurant and, of course, finished the evening with ice cream (even if was only 17 degrees outside). We picked up the kids from my mom’s house and were home bound. It was late and we were all tired. I knew I still had some gift wrapping to do before the next day’s family gathering.
When we finally started heading home some fog rolled in. It came quickly and in parts was so thick not much could be seen. Luckily we were on a stretch of road that both of us had driven numerous times and were quite familiar with. The two youngest had just fallen asleep. The two oldest were in the back seat bickering about something. We had just passed a semi truck which we commented on because we didn’t usually see them on this particular road. We had several things on our minds but none of which were about what was about to take place.
Then it happened. I saw him first. A split second later Matt saw him. It all happened so fast. A truck had crossed the median and was sitting perpendicular in front of us in both lanes. Matt quickly stood, literally, on the brake with both feet. Screech! Crash! Bang! We hit the truck head on. Only by the GRACE IF GOD and my husband’s quick defensive driving was it not worse. Instead of T-boning the truck Matt hit him diagonally which I truly believe saved that passenger’s life and kept the rest of us from major injury. Seconds after we crashed the semi that we had just talked about passed us. I am not sure how he got around us without causing more problems. Only God does. Just one more thing I am so grateful for.
It was absolutely scary. The oldest kids were in shock and speechless. The baby slept through the whole incident. I was so bewildered that when Matt told me to call someone I couldn’t even remember the number for 911! The police came to write their report. My step-dad came to offer help. Friends came to give us ride home. The van was totaled but we all (except for Zech) walked away. Again, I have no idea how. In all honesty, it should have been much, much worse than it was.
This accident may have altered our holiday plans a little. Fortunately though, we are not accepting visitors to our hospital rooms or calling funereal homes. No, not even scratches or bruises. God really did protect us and keep us safe. It actually worked out for the best because now I get to pick out a new van for Christmas.
Even though my Christmas didn’t turn out the way I planned, I wouldn’t have it any other way. Merry Christmas everyone! May you remember all the wonderful things He gave you --your life and His.
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
One Long Pregnancy
Every day I woke up thinking today would be the day. I had a reason why that day should be the one. The 2nd because it was Caleb’s birthday. The 9th would only make it one week from Caleb’s. The 10th was my pick. That next weekend so that I could get out of our huge Christmas event at church. The 16th was my mom’s pick. My sister’s birthday is on the 20th but I knew there would be no way I would still be pregnant by then. The list goes on. After a while though, I really didn’t care when this baby decided to be born. I was ready.
I love being pregnant. Really I do. It’s the only time in that child’s life when I know exactly where he is and what he is eating. But also it’s the only time when I can go to church not wearing a girdle and not care. I am “allowed” to be fat and no one can say anything. And if they do mention my huge belly, I can rip off their heads and blame it on the hormones. I really do enjoy being pregnant.
And speaking of large bellies… sometime in late December I actually measured my abdomen. I took the measuring tape and wrapped it around my mid section. I couldn’t see the number but I knew I was close to the end of the tape. Therefore, I was guessing around 32-33 inches or so. The problem was that the measuring tape wasn’t a yard long as I had assumed. It was a seamstress’s tool that measured much larger. My girth was 54 inches! That is taller than some women! (Right, Sandy?)
All of the dates we had picked had come and gone. It was now the week of Christmas. And who wants to have a baby the week of Christmas? Better yet who wants to share their birthday with Jesus? Talk about playing second fiddle.
The morning of the 23rd I woke up with the flu. I could not keep anything down--not even water. I had three kids home on winter break who really didn’t care that Mommy was sick. I called the OB unit and they told me to come in for a four-hour monitor and IV fluids. I quickly jumped at the chance to have a team of nurses taking care of me for half of a day. I called my mom to come and watch the aforementioned energy filled children, packed my bags and drove myself to the hospital.
As I pulled into the parking lot contractions had started but were very weak. I knew what they were supposed to feel like having done this a number of times before, yet they were contractions nonetheless. The nurses checked me and determined that I should go ahead and stay the night to monitor the baby’s fluid levels because mine were so low.
It was then that I knew I was--finally--having a baby that day. We filled the hot tub for me to sit in while we waited for Matt to get there from work. Some wonderful friends came and sat with me while I waited. The contractions finally started resembling those that I had experienced in previous pregnancies.
I had always been told that deliveries get easier the more babies you have, however, this one was not easy. Nothing about it was. The pain was worse than any of the others. I still had the flu, therefore, still vomiting. And because he was so large, he got stuck with just his head and one arm out. The doctor’s called it shoulder dystocia. Matt called it scary. I called it painful.
But all is well that end well. Zechariah Daniel entered our world just before 4:00 in the afternoon weighing a whopping 9 lbs 13 ozs! And life has not been the same since.
Happy First Birthday Zech! You make the world a brighter place everyday. And at this rate you are going to make a great linebacker with those huge shoulders that got stuck. I love you sweetheart.
I love being pregnant. Really I do. It’s the only time in that child’s life when I know exactly where he is and what he is eating. But also it’s the only time when I can go to church not wearing a girdle and not care. I am “allowed” to be fat and no one can say anything. And if they do mention my huge belly, I can rip off their heads and blame it on the hormones. I really do enjoy being pregnant.
And speaking of large bellies… sometime in late December I actually measured my abdomen. I took the measuring tape and wrapped it around my mid section. I couldn’t see the number but I knew I was close to the end of the tape. Therefore, I was guessing around 32-33 inches or so. The problem was that the measuring tape wasn’t a yard long as I had assumed. It was a seamstress’s tool that measured much larger. My girth was 54 inches! That is taller than some women! (Right, Sandy?)
All of the dates we had picked had come and gone. It was now the week of Christmas. And who wants to have a baby the week of Christmas? Better yet who wants to share their birthday with Jesus? Talk about playing second fiddle.
The morning of the 23rd I woke up with the flu. I could not keep anything down--not even water. I had three kids home on winter break who really didn’t care that Mommy was sick. I called the OB unit and they told me to come in for a four-hour monitor and IV fluids. I quickly jumped at the chance to have a team of nurses taking care of me for half of a day. I called my mom to come and watch the aforementioned energy filled children, packed my bags and drove myself to the hospital.
As I pulled into the parking lot contractions had started but were very weak. I knew what they were supposed to feel like having done this a number of times before, yet they were contractions nonetheless. The nurses checked me and determined that I should go ahead and stay the night to monitor the baby’s fluid levels because mine were so low.
It was then that I knew I was--finally--having a baby that day. We filled the hot tub for me to sit in while we waited for Matt to get there from work. Some wonderful friends came and sat with me while I waited. The contractions finally started resembling those that I had experienced in previous pregnancies.
I had always been told that deliveries get easier the more babies you have, however, this one was not easy. Nothing about it was. The pain was worse than any of the others. I still had the flu, therefore, still vomiting. And because he was so large, he got stuck with just his head and one arm out. The doctor’s called it shoulder dystocia. Matt called it scary. I called it painful.
But all is well that end well. Zechariah Daniel entered our world just before 4:00 in the afternoon weighing a whopping 9 lbs 13 ozs! And life has not been the same since.
Happy First Birthday Zech! You make the world a brighter place everyday. And at this rate you are going to make a great linebacker with those huge shoulders that got stuck. I love you sweetheart.
Monday, December 20, 2010
Where To Sit
Last week the our two oldest children had their Winter program at school. You know the one where all the students line up on the stage wearing reindeer hats made with their own handprints singing Christmas songs. Well, at least trying to sing Christmas songs that they may or may not know the words to as the music teacher sits frantically, yet somehow patiently, in front of the carolers mouthing the words as best she can hoping all the while that she can just get through the next 20 minutes.
Matt actually had the day off because of a project we were working on at our church. Therefore, we were quite excited that both of us would be able to attend and show our support to the kids. We knew that we wouldn’t have any problems getting good seats. The show was in the middle of the day and we live in a sleeper town in which most families are dual income. So no other parents would be home to attend. Well, we thought we knew that anyway.
We arrived at the school 10 minutes before the doors even opened. As we turned the corner we noticed an overwhelming amount of cars lining the streets. There was already a line of anxious parents wrapping around the building. The lines reminded me of the ones we experienced on Black Friday. I was amazed at how many people took the day off to come to an elementary school Christmas show. As the masses made their way to the gymnasium the crowd quickly became standing room only. At one point in time the principal even offered the floor space between the seats and stage to parents. And because I knew that Caleb was expecting me to hear his solo that we practiced for days, I chose to sit up front on the hard gym floor.
So, why, when I went to church on Sunday, wasn’t it the same way? There wasn’t a large amount of people that rearranged their day and schedule to make it a point to attend. People did not leave their houses 30 minutes early to make sure to get there before the doors even opened. There was no line of worshipers wrapping around the building. We weren’t fighting over who was going to get to sit in the front row. Quite contrary. Most people get ro church just in the nick of time if on time at all and it is usually the front rows that get sat in last if they get sat in at all.
It just makes me wonder if there is away to get as enthusiastic about hearing a church sermon as we do about hearing 100 elementary kids sing. Maybe we should try and get our pastors to wear reindeer hats.
Matt actually had the day off because of a project we were working on at our church. Therefore, we were quite excited that both of us would be able to attend and show our support to the kids. We knew that we wouldn’t have any problems getting good seats. The show was in the middle of the day and we live in a sleeper town in which most families are dual income. So no other parents would be home to attend. Well, we thought we knew that anyway.
We arrived at the school 10 minutes before the doors even opened. As we turned the corner we noticed an overwhelming amount of cars lining the streets. There was already a line of anxious parents wrapping around the building. The lines reminded me of the ones we experienced on Black Friday. I was amazed at how many people took the day off to come to an elementary school Christmas show. As the masses made their way to the gymnasium the crowd quickly became standing room only. At one point in time the principal even offered the floor space between the seats and stage to parents. And because I knew that Caleb was expecting me to hear his solo that we practiced for days, I chose to sit up front on the hard gym floor.
So, why, when I went to church on Sunday, wasn’t it the same way? There wasn’t a large amount of people that rearranged their day and schedule to make it a point to attend. People did not leave their houses 30 minutes early to make sure to get there before the doors even opened. There was no line of worshipers wrapping around the building. We weren’t fighting over who was going to get to sit in the front row. Quite contrary. Most people get ro church just in the nick of time if on time at all and it is usually the front rows that get sat in last if they get sat in at all.
It just makes me wonder if there is away to get as enthusiastic about hearing a church sermon as we do about hearing 100 elementary kids sing. Maybe we should try and get our pastors to wear reindeer hats.
Friday, December 17, 2010
Watch What You Say
As the Christmas season is upon us we are reading a book to our children about Advent and the different aspects of the holiday. This week we learned about the various greetings usually said this time of year and their meanings. I know that there was been some controversy about different clothing stores using different greetings and well wishes in their ads. Some people are actually refusing to shop at this stores because of the greeting they chose. So let’s take a minute to examine these familiar sayings.
“Season’s Greetings” simply says, “Welcome to the season”. That season you are wanting to greet may be just winter, or more formal such as Christmas, Chanukah, or Kwanza or maybe even the season of hustle and bustle. But whatever the season is you are simply saying “Hello” to it. Maybe the department stores are simply saying “Greetings to the shopping season.”
“Happy Holidays” is a celebratory term. Think “happy birthday.” Holiday actually means holy day usually referring to a day of vacation. Therefore this greeting literally means “let’s celebrate because I have a day off of work!” Again, it is possible that the stores are suggesting that you come shopping on your day off.
“Merry X-mas” is a term that used to really get under my skin. I loathed it when people would write this on their boxes of decorations in the attic and garage. However, I recently have come to learn that “X” is actually the first letter of “Christ” is His native language- Greek. Unfortunately, most of us do not know Greek and should not use this well-known abbreviation. Using it may relay as one of two messages. Either we want to take the “Christ” out of Christmas or we are just too lazy to write out the whole name (all six letters!) of the only person ever willing and able to die for our sins. I would assume the stores use this greeting because of the former and the rest of us because of the latter.
Finally, is the greeting of “Merry Christmas” that is often used. (Not to be confused with “Mary Christmas” which my 5 year old swears is how it is said and spelled. “because Mary was there at Christmas! Duh!”) “Merry”, of course, means cheerful. Delightful. Laughing. Fun. And we would all agree that “Christmas” is the day we celebrate Jesus coming to earth to teach, preach and love. I am not sure if I have actually seen any advertisements use this one but if they did I hope they know what they are saying.
I hope that we all know what we are saying. There are days I may wish you “Season’s Greetings” because I want to welcome in the winter as it is the only way to get spring. I also know that I am looking forward to some “Happy Holidays” so that Matt can spend some time at home with me and the kids. I have finally allowed myself to write “X-mas” on our calendar of events due to lack of space but with full respect for my Savior. But this year, I want to be more careful when I say “Merry Christmas”. I want to really mean it. I want to say “I hope you are joyful and glad that Jesus came.” I additionally want to wish everyone “a cheerful, fun, exciting season as we celebrate his birth” as the phrase leaves my mouth and enters your ears.
I also want to have a Merry Christmas. I want to spend time with family in celebration with joy and gladness. To spend the day remembering why we are together instead of focusing on what store used what term in their ad and banning certain ones from our places to shop. As the old cliché goes: Let’s remember the reason for the season. I mean really remember.
So to everyone… I hope you have a Merry Christmas… literally!
“Season’s Greetings” simply says, “Welcome to the season”. That season you are wanting to greet may be just winter, or more formal such as Christmas, Chanukah, or Kwanza or maybe even the season of hustle and bustle. But whatever the season is you are simply saying “Hello” to it. Maybe the department stores are simply saying “Greetings to the shopping season.”
“Happy Holidays” is a celebratory term. Think “happy birthday.” Holiday actually means holy day usually referring to a day of vacation. Therefore this greeting literally means “let’s celebrate because I have a day off of work!” Again, it is possible that the stores are suggesting that you come shopping on your day off.
“Merry X-mas” is a term that used to really get under my skin. I loathed it when people would write this on their boxes of decorations in the attic and garage. However, I recently have come to learn that “X” is actually the first letter of “Christ” is His native language- Greek. Unfortunately, most of us do not know Greek and should not use this well-known abbreviation. Using it may relay as one of two messages. Either we want to take the “Christ” out of Christmas or we are just too lazy to write out the whole name (all six letters!) of the only person ever willing and able to die for our sins. I would assume the stores use this greeting because of the former and the rest of us because of the latter.
Finally, is the greeting of “Merry Christmas” that is often used. (Not to be confused with “Mary Christmas” which my 5 year old swears is how it is said and spelled. “because Mary was there at Christmas! Duh!”) “Merry”, of course, means cheerful. Delightful. Laughing. Fun. And we would all agree that “Christmas” is the day we celebrate Jesus coming to earth to teach, preach and love. I am not sure if I have actually seen any advertisements use this one but if they did I hope they know what they are saying.
I hope that we all know what we are saying. There are days I may wish you “Season’s Greetings” because I want to welcome in the winter as it is the only way to get spring. I also know that I am looking forward to some “Happy Holidays” so that Matt can spend some time at home with me and the kids. I have finally allowed myself to write “X-mas” on our calendar of events due to lack of space but with full respect for my Savior. But this year, I want to be more careful when I say “Merry Christmas”. I want to really mean it. I want to say “I hope you are joyful and glad that Jesus came.” I additionally want to wish everyone “a cheerful, fun, exciting season as we celebrate his birth” as the phrase leaves my mouth and enters your ears.
I also want to have a Merry Christmas. I want to spend time with family in celebration with joy and gladness. To spend the day remembering why we are together instead of focusing on what store used what term in their ad and banning certain ones from our places to shop. As the old cliché goes: Let’s remember the reason for the season. I mean really remember.
So to everyone… I hope you have a Merry Christmas… literally!
Monday, December 13, 2010
Christmas Traditions
One of my favorite musicals is Fiddler on the Roof. As many of you know, it is a story about a father trying to keep his family’s Jewish traditions passed down to the next generation. And every time I watch this great movie, I inevitably join Tevye, the father, when he belts out the song “Traditions”.
Personally, I think there is a huge need for traditions. When I was teaching in Illinois I never thought to come home for the holidays. It never even crossed my mind that I should come home to celebrate Thanksgiving or Christmas. I am confident that this is because growing up we really didn’t have traditions. So now that we realize that traditions really help set the tone for the holiday season Matt and I have been trying to find some that work for us.
In the beginning we wanted to celebrate at our house with both sets of grandparents. We tried that the first year. It really didn’t work. It somewhat resembled oil and water. Lets just say that our parents are quite different and neither wanted to spend the day with each other if at all possible. Then, of course, we realized that years later Caleb’s grandparents would have other grandchildren to visit also. So that custom quickly got canned.
We have thought about making it a tradition of going to my parents for Christmas Eve and day. However, if we did that, we miss Christmas Eve service at our own church. Not to mention that we would not wake up in our own house but someone else’s. But the main concern and disqualifying reason we decided against this option was due to the fact that my parents’ are more focused on Santa and the gifts he left instead of Jesus and what he gave.
We are still trying different things that can become traditions. It is a work in progress. I have some great ideas given to me from other Christian moms. And some ideas that I came up with on my own. Christmas Eve service as a family. One special gift that night. Reading the Nativity story in Luke 2 before they go to bed. No getting up until the sun is up. Only three presents on Christmas morning. (Good enough for Jesus, good enough for you!)
Yes, I think traditions are quite important to families. It helps everyone remember something about the past generation. I hope that decades from now when Rebekah and her children are unwrapping yet another Nativity scene, she can tell the story of how her mother collected them and made them match up all the baby Jesuses. Then they can have an opportunity to share stories about me. Just as long as she is also not telling stories about her mother standing on top of the house playing a violin belting out songs about traditions.
Personally, I think there is a huge need for traditions. When I was teaching in Illinois I never thought to come home for the holidays. It never even crossed my mind that I should come home to celebrate Thanksgiving or Christmas. I am confident that this is because growing up we really didn’t have traditions. So now that we realize that traditions really help set the tone for the holiday season Matt and I have been trying to find some that work for us.
In the beginning we wanted to celebrate at our house with both sets of grandparents. We tried that the first year. It really didn’t work. It somewhat resembled oil and water. Lets just say that our parents are quite different and neither wanted to spend the day with each other if at all possible. Then, of course, we realized that years later Caleb’s grandparents would have other grandchildren to visit also. So that custom quickly got canned.
We have thought about making it a tradition of going to my parents for Christmas Eve and day. However, if we did that, we miss Christmas Eve service at our own church. Not to mention that we would not wake up in our own house but someone else’s. But the main concern and disqualifying reason we decided against this option was due to the fact that my parents’ are more focused on Santa and the gifts he left instead of Jesus and what he gave.
We are still trying different things that can become traditions. It is a work in progress. I have some great ideas given to me from other Christian moms. And some ideas that I came up with on my own. Christmas Eve service as a family. One special gift that night. Reading the Nativity story in Luke 2 before they go to bed. No getting up until the sun is up. Only three presents on Christmas morning. (Good enough for Jesus, good enough for you!)
Yes, I think traditions are quite important to families. It helps everyone remember something about the past generation. I hope that decades from now when Rebekah and her children are unwrapping yet another Nativity scene, she can tell the story of how her mother collected them and made them match up all the baby Jesuses. Then they can have an opportunity to share stories about me. Just as long as she is also not telling stories about her mother standing on top of the house playing a violin belting out songs about traditions.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
A Cheerful Giver
Caleb and Rebekah came home with several notes in their backpacks this week. Notes about upcoming holiday parties and concerts. Notes about a canned food drive at school. Notes about PTO fundraisers. The list goes on.
However, Rebekah had a note that her brother did not have. The note read: Our class has been given the opportunity to experience giving this holiday season. In an effort to nurture community service, our class will be sponsoring a fourth-grade girl for Christmas….please only give as you can…perhaps you could donate spare change or even $1.00.
Before I finished reading the note aloud to my children, Rebekah had walked over to her allowance jar and dumped out all of the contents. She then asked me to help her count how much she had. I assumed this was to help her determine how much she really wanted to give to her class project. We counted her earnings and I waited to see what would happen…
“Rebekah, are you giving all your money to class?”
“No!”, she replied very sharply.
“Well then why do we need to count it and see how much you have?”
Her answer came back to me in a voice similar to that of the Chipmunk’s Christmas (and very matter-of-factly, I might add.) “So I know how much I have to give God first. Then I can give the rest to the girl who needs stuff for Christmas.”
My heart melted.
She put her 10% in her tithe envelope. I put the remaining amount in an envelope for class--fourfold. The next day, Daddy replaced the money in her allowance jar with a note thanking her for being generous.
It is a great feeling to know that some of the lessons we try to instill into our children are actually getting into their little minds. I am glad that all the Bible stories, Sunday School classes and life lessons are starting to be applied. That my precious children are becoming God-pleasers instead of self-pleasers.
Maybe we can all learn a lesson from my sweet five year old this holiday season and throughout the year. Give all that you have just without the high-pitched squeaky voice.
“Each man should give what he has decided in his heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver.” 2 Cor 9:7
However, Rebekah had a note that her brother did not have. The note read: Our class has been given the opportunity to experience giving this holiday season. In an effort to nurture community service, our class will be sponsoring a fourth-grade girl for Christmas….please only give as you can…perhaps you could donate spare change or even $1.00.
Before I finished reading the note aloud to my children, Rebekah had walked over to her allowance jar and dumped out all of the contents. She then asked me to help her count how much she had. I assumed this was to help her determine how much she really wanted to give to her class project. We counted her earnings and I waited to see what would happen…
“Rebekah, are you giving all your money to class?”
“No!”, she replied very sharply.
“Well then why do we need to count it and see how much you have?”
Her answer came back to me in a voice similar to that of the Chipmunk’s Christmas (and very matter-of-factly, I might add.) “So I know how much I have to give God first. Then I can give the rest to the girl who needs stuff for Christmas.”
My heart melted.
She put her 10% in her tithe envelope. I put the remaining amount in an envelope for class--fourfold. The next day, Daddy replaced the money in her allowance jar with a note thanking her for being generous.
It is a great feeling to know that some of the lessons we try to instill into our children are actually getting into their little minds. I am glad that all the Bible stories, Sunday School classes and life lessons are starting to be applied. That my precious children are becoming God-pleasers instead of self-pleasers.
Maybe we can all learn a lesson from my sweet five year old this holiday season and throughout the year. Give all that you have just without the high-pitched squeaky voice.
“Each man should give what he has decided in his heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver.” 2 Cor 9:7
Monday, December 6, 2010
Graded Birthdays
Sometimes I wonder what it would look like if we recieved grades for the things we did as parents. Serving nutriuos meals: B-; teaching alphabet: A; helping with homework: C+ and so on and so on.
After this weekend I am gald that we don't. I am even more glad that there is a good chance that Caleb won't even remember his 7th birthday. Or will he?
Party 1: Thursday, Cupcakes to his class room. Two dozen cupcakes, iced and decorated. No napkins. No juice. No treat bags. Grade: C-
Party 2: Friday, Friend Party. Inviation had wrong date and no address. Stayed up all night making BINGO cards with Super Hero stickers. Boys played BINGO for 10 minutes. Bought each guests a Super Hero costume. Most liked the costume they recieved. One little brother that came didn't get a costume and had a fit. The boy that loves Star Wars got the Star Wars costume and complained about it the whole night. Other games were a bust. The boys didn't want to play them. No cake. Served left-over cupcakes from school party. Grade: D
Party 3: Sunday, Family Party. One third of guests actually came. One seven year old very disappointed. Lasagnas turned out great (I'm glad because that is what we are eating the rest of the week.) Caleb got some gifts that he has been asking for which is wonderful. He was even willing to keep the pink Leapster just so he could have one. Everyone watched football. We forgot to tell his birth story. I had scrapbooks done and ready No one looked at them. Again, no cake. Left-over cupcakes. Grade: C
As a mother of four, I am really, really glad we don't get judged or graded on how well our birthday parties turn out. We don't have to keep score or tally marks on which ones were great and which ones weren't. We just keep on learning as we continue down the road. And maybe, just maybe, if we ar lucky by the time we send them off to college or down the aisle, we will have all this figured out. But I'm not holding my breath. Because my luck is that I will buy the wrong college sweatshirt, or the wedding inviations might have a wrong date or soemone is going to want to watch a football game instead.
After this weekend I am gald that we don't. I am even more glad that there is a good chance that Caleb won't even remember his 7th birthday. Or will he?
Party 1: Thursday, Cupcakes to his class room. Two dozen cupcakes, iced and decorated. No napkins. No juice. No treat bags. Grade: C-
Party 2: Friday, Friend Party. Inviation had wrong date and no address. Stayed up all night making BINGO cards with Super Hero stickers. Boys played BINGO for 10 minutes. Bought each guests a Super Hero costume. Most liked the costume they recieved. One little brother that came didn't get a costume and had a fit. The boy that loves Star Wars got the Star Wars costume and complained about it the whole night. Other games were a bust. The boys didn't want to play them. No cake. Served left-over cupcakes from school party. Grade: D
Party 3: Sunday, Family Party. One third of guests actually came. One seven year old very disappointed. Lasagnas turned out great (I'm glad because that is what we are eating the rest of the week.) Caleb got some gifts that he has been asking for which is wonderful. He was even willing to keep the pink Leapster just so he could have one. Everyone watched football. We forgot to tell his birth story. I had scrapbooks done and ready No one looked at them. Again, no cake. Left-over cupcakes. Grade: C
As a mother of four, I am really, really glad we don't get judged or graded on how well our birthday parties turn out. We don't have to keep score or tally marks on which ones were great and which ones weren't. We just keep on learning as we continue down the road. And maybe, just maybe, if we ar lucky by the time we send them off to college or down the aisle, we will have all this figured out. But I'm not holding my breath. Because my luck is that I will buy the wrong college sweatshirt, or the wedding inviations might have a wrong date or soemone is going to want to watch a football game instead.
Friday, December 3, 2010
Caleb is SEVEN!
Seven!?! I never thought I would be the mother of a seven year old. Don’t get me wrong. I knew I would be a mother. I always wanted to be a mother. I guess I never thought about them growing up. And for all of you that have been there and for all of you that will be soon, 7 is huge. It’s not like five or six. At those young ages, they are still little, moldable and precious. Not seven. Seven is big. No, it’s not halfway like nine or double digits like 10, but huge nonetheless.
As tradition, because it was Caleb’s birthday yesterday he got to be king for the day. As always in out house on your special day, the birthday child gets to choose what to eat, wear and watch. No homework. No chores. No brushing of teeth. And why not? It’s only one day. I get to make all those decisions the other 364 days of the year.
Therefore, to celebrate his once-a-year kingship, Caleb had ice cream for breakfast, lasagna (his favorite) for lunch and cupcakes for snack. Then Daddy took him on a six hour date. They went rock climbing, the Children’s Museum and McDonald’s for dinner. And, the grand finale, more ice cream before bed. He was the happiest kid on the planet.
Then, as he was telling me all about his date, well past his bedtime, he looked up at me with his toothless grin and said ever so sweetly and honestly, “Mommy, I had so much fun with Daddy. But can I just sleep in your bed tonight so I can spend time with you too?” I couldn’t resist.
So I told him to go on up to bed (before he passed out in the middle of the kitchen) and I would be right up…right after I get the games ready for your party, decorate the cake, blow up balloons, hang the streamer and wrap presents. Because those are the joys mothers get for having 7 year old boys.
Happy Birthday Caleb! You are the most precious thing in my life. I love you with all of my heart. You never cease to amaze me with you brain, heart or mouth. You are going to do great things for God before He is done with you. I hope you had a great day and I hope you have a great rest of the year as you wait for your next time to be king. Now, I have to go get the rest of the projects done before your parties start...
As tradition, because it was Caleb’s birthday yesterday he got to be king for the day. As always in out house on your special day, the birthday child gets to choose what to eat, wear and watch. No homework. No chores. No brushing of teeth. And why not? It’s only one day. I get to make all those decisions the other 364 days of the year.
Therefore, to celebrate his once-a-year kingship, Caleb had ice cream for breakfast, lasagna (his favorite) for lunch and cupcakes for snack. Then Daddy took him on a six hour date. They went rock climbing, the Children’s Museum and McDonald’s for dinner. And, the grand finale, more ice cream before bed. He was the happiest kid on the planet.
Then, as he was telling me all about his date, well past his bedtime, he looked up at me with his toothless grin and said ever so sweetly and honestly, “Mommy, I had so much fun with Daddy. But can I just sleep in your bed tonight so I can spend time with you too?” I couldn’t resist.
So I told him to go on up to bed (before he passed out in the middle of the kitchen) and I would be right up…right after I get the games ready for your party, decorate the cake, blow up balloons, hang the streamer and wrap presents. Because those are the joys mothers get for having 7 year old boys.
Happy Birthday Caleb! You are the most precious thing in my life. I love you with all of my heart. You never cease to amaze me with you brain, heart or mouth. You are going to do great things for God before He is done with you. I hope you had a great day and I hope you have a great rest of the year as you wait for your next time to be king. Now, I have to go get the rest of the projects done before your parties start...
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Different Friends Different Expectations
A friend of mine stopped by unannounced. For the first time in a long time it didn’t bother me. Not that my friend would bother me but the state of my house didn’t bother me. This made me ponder why I sometimes get stressed over visitors and sometiand while at other mes I am at ease. I have come to the conclusion that it really isn’t the state of the house that makes me get nervous. The determining factor on how anxious I am is which friend I am having over.
For example, a couple of weeks ago I had a friend stay over. I was completely worried and somewhat frazzled about it. She even commented on how she felt things were out of sorts. I cleaned like crazy but knew it wouldn’t be clean enough for her. I was so convinced that anything I cooked would be wrong that I didn’t even try to prepare anything. But the problem wasn’t my friend but rather my opinion of her. You see, I think she is perfect and I that I will never live up to her expectations. Therefore, I should not even try.
On the other hand, I have another friend who stresses me out when we go to her house. Most of the time when my kids learn that we are headed to her house they beg and cry to not go. I spend the entire time there trying to make sure that my kids don’t touch the wrong thing or sit on the wrong chair. And heaven forbid, it they ever filled their diapers. I think we would have an entirely different issue then. It is so stressful that we rarely enjoy ourselves during the visit.
It just makes me wonder if anyone is that stressed coming over to my house. Do I make them feel like they are walking on egg shells or at the very least trying to not crack any the wrong way? Or, on the hand, I am I causing someone to stress over my attendance in their dwelling? Do I make request that make them cringe at the thought of me showing up?
I want my house to warm and welcoming. I want people to want to come here. I want their kids to want to come here. I want everyone to feel comfortable and relaxed. I don’t care where you sit--on the couch, on the floor or even on the kitchen counters. I don’t care what we eat. I even promise to pick out the mushrooms with very little complaining. And I don’t even care if your baby has diarrhea and has to be changed every 15 minutes. I will even help. Because that is how we live life together. Not stressed. Not worried. Not walking on egg shells or around pink elephants. Just loving one another.
For example, a couple of weeks ago I had a friend stay over. I was completely worried and somewhat frazzled about it. She even commented on how she felt things were out of sorts. I cleaned like crazy but knew it wouldn’t be clean enough for her. I was so convinced that anything I cooked would be wrong that I didn’t even try to prepare anything. But the problem wasn’t my friend but rather my opinion of her. You see, I think she is perfect and I that I will never live up to her expectations. Therefore, I should not even try.
On the other hand, I have another friend who stresses me out when we go to her house. Most of the time when my kids learn that we are headed to her house they beg and cry to not go. I spend the entire time there trying to make sure that my kids don’t touch the wrong thing or sit on the wrong chair. And heaven forbid, it they ever filled their diapers. I think we would have an entirely different issue then. It is so stressful that we rarely enjoy ourselves during the visit.
It just makes me wonder if anyone is that stressed coming over to my house. Do I make them feel like they are walking on egg shells or at the very least trying to not crack any the wrong way? Or, on the hand, I am I causing someone to stress over my attendance in their dwelling? Do I make request that make them cringe at the thought of me showing up?
I want my house to warm and welcoming. I want people to want to come here. I want their kids to want to come here. I want everyone to feel comfortable and relaxed. I don’t care where you sit--on the couch, on the floor or even on the kitchen counters. I don’t care what we eat. I even promise to pick out the mushrooms with very little complaining. And I don’t even care if your baby has diarrhea and has to be changed every 15 minutes. I will even help. Because that is how we live life together. Not stressed. Not worried. Not walking on egg shells or around pink elephants. Just loving one another.
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June 2010
Four little monkies all lined up in a row!