Last week I got a phone call earlier than usual. I had just got the two oldest on the bus. I had barely started nursing Zech and was half naked. Elizabeth was “putting poop in the potty” like a big girl. I really didn’t want to know who had the audacity to interrupt my morning routine but something made me answer it anyway.
I picked up the phone and didn’t even get a chance to greet the person on the other end. All I heard was a familiar yet frantic voice saying, “Michelle, Christopher is missing. He chased after the dog. I think he went toward your house. He is gone. I don’t know where he is. He’s missing. Help!”
What was I to do? I dropped everything, of course. I laid the still hungry baby on the floor as he let out wails for more of his food that was now squirting across the room like a hydrant. I grabbed the closest pair of pants for Elizabeth and put them on her over her not-yet-wiped bottom while finding a shirt for myself so that neither one of us would get arrested for indecent exposure.
We headed out the door and started our search. I checked in my neighbors‘ swing sets. I looked in dog houses. I snooped through people’s open garages. I even called the police to make a missing child report. I could hear the cries of his mother coming from down the street. My heart was in my stomach as I am sure hers was too. After what seemed like an hour but what was actually more like 10 minutes, we found him. He had made his way to the other side of our subdivision. Crossing at least three roads, walking past the pond and was heading for the interstate off ramp.
I had the privilege of being with my friend when she was told her son was found. She literally fell to the ground in relief and gratitude. She was praising Jesus all the way to her toes. I also got to be there when he made it back home. She was so relieved to see him she wasn’t sure what to do. Should she punish him for taking off? Should she scold him so he will think about it before he did it again? How should she discipline her child that scared her to death? She did exactly what I would have done, what most of us would have done. She took him into her arms, held him so tightly that he couldn’t breathe and covered his face with her tears.
Isn’t that what God does. We were all lost at one point or another. Then we found Him, the One who loves us more than anyone. He didn’t punish us or yell at us. He didn’t scold us or ridicule us. He just took us into His loving arms and said, “This one is mine and I am glad he is home.”
If you haven't found The One that has been searching for you, ask someone to help you find Him. He just wants you to come home. He won't ground you, spank you or even take away your wii. He just wants to hold you tightly and cover you with His tears.
Monday, August 30, 2010
Friday, August 27, 2010
My son
My son, Caleb, never seizes to amaze me. There are times when he makes me so proud. He learned his numbers, colors and shapes well before the age of three. At the age of four, he corrected his Sunday School teacher about the names of the three men in the fiery furnace. He just knew them by their Hebrew names instead of their more popular Aramaic names. By age five he was doing two digit addition and subtraction in his head. At the end of kindergarden, at the ripe old age of six, he performed in the school talent show. He recited all 66 books of the Bible in order--a task most adults cannot do. Yes, there are times he really makes his mother proud.
There are also times I want to become an ostrich and stick my head in the ground. If you have never met him, Caleb is very defiant. He wants things done his way or no way. There really is no highway option. There are days when he is so disobedient and rude I wonder what we are doing wrong in raising him. He is the kid in class that the tale-tales talk about. He still can't keep his hands to himself, sit down when told or stand in a line to save his life. Within his first year of school he was sent to the principal's office more times than his mother and father were sent there--combined for their entire school life.
The bus is the worst. Everyday, literally, every one of them, when he gets off the bus I hear reports from the other kids on something he did to hurt them and get confirmation from the very worn out bus driver. Yesterday, the bus department actually installed a 5-point harness car seat in the school bus for my son. He is to get in the front seat and strap himself down so that he isn't such a hazard to others. When I saw him doing this, my heart sank. Yes, that's my kid. The almost seven year old that is in the baby seat and still a problem. I cried the entire day.
I am not one of those parents that swears they "wouldn't want it any other way". I do. I want it another way. I want it better. But this is what God gave me and He promises me to never give me more than I can handle and show me a way to escape it. (1 Cor 10:13) So for now, all I can do is pray. Pray that God will somehow use these experiences to His glory someday. None of us know when that day will be but I know I want it to happen soon.
There are also times I want to become an ostrich and stick my head in the ground. If you have never met him, Caleb is very defiant. He wants things done his way or no way. There really is no highway option. There are days when he is so disobedient and rude I wonder what we are doing wrong in raising him. He is the kid in class that the tale-tales talk about. He still can't keep his hands to himself, sit down when told or stand in a line to save his life. Within his first year of school he was sent to the principal's office more times than his mother and father were sent there--combined for their entire school life.
The bus is the worst. Everyday, literally, every one of them, when he gets off the bus I hear reports from the other kids on something he did to hurt them and get confirmation from the very worn out bus driver. Yesterday, the bus department actually installed a 5-point harness car seat in the school bus for my son. He is to get in the front seat and strap himself down so that he isn't such a hazard to others. When I saw him doing this, my heart sank. Yes, that's my kid. The almost seven year old that is in the baby seat and still a problem. I cried the entire day.
I am not one of those parents that swears they "wouldn't want it any other way". I do. I want it another way. I want it better. But this is what God gave me and He promises me to never give me more than I can handle and show me a way to escape it. (1 Cor 10:13) So for now, all I can do is pray. Pray that God will somehow use these experiences to His glory someday. None of us know when that day will be but I know I want it to happen soon.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
A Writing Contest
I entered a writing contest in one of my parenting magazines. They were looking for interesting internet blogs about family life and parenting stories. I found my favorite one and sent it in. They read over 200 entries and chose the top ten journals. The winners were featured in this month’s publication.
I flipped open the magazine excited to read the entries of my fellow moms and see what kind of blogs the columnists considered worthy. Some of the articles were good but for the most part I felt as if the contest was about who could have the most traumatic story. Some wrote about the difficulties of trying to conceive. Others wrote about delivering premature infants and the struggles that come with delayed children. A couple of the entries were about the joys and problems that come with an adopted child. One man wrote about being the “mom” while his partner took on the “dad” role. Another couple discussed the woes of being a black couple in DC (because there are no other black people in DC?). Most sadly, one woman wrote about losing her son unexpectedly way too early.
After reading the competition's letters, I assume my life, children and stories are just too boring. Let’s face reality. I am a white, Christian, heterosexual woman married to a heterosexual man. I am the mother of four children who were conceived the good old fashion way, delivered from my own womb on their due dates. None of them have any major health issues, diseases or disabilities. And, thankfully, they are all still alive and with us. I guess we are just the average run-of-the-mill family.
No, I didn’t win. But if it takes a struggle, tragedy or abnormality to write an award-winning blog then I am fine with losing.
I flipped open the magazine excited to read the entries of my fellow moms and see what kind of blogs the columnists considered worthy. Some of the articles were good but for the most part I felt as if the contest was about who could have the most traumatic story. Some wrote about the difficulties of trying to conceive. Others wrote about delivering premature infants and the struggles that come with delayed children. A couple of the entries were about the joys and problems that come with an adopted child. One man wrote about being the “mom” while his partner took on the “dad” role. Another couple discussed the woes of being a black couple in DC (because there are no other black people in DC?). Most sadly, one woman wrote about losing her son unexpectedly way too early.
After reading the competition's letters, I assume my life, children and stories are just too boring. Let’s face reality. I am a white, Christian, heterosexual woman married to a heterosexual man. I am the mother of four children who were conceived the good old fashion way, delivered from my own womb on their due dates. None of them have any major health issues, diseases or disabilities. And, thankfully, they are all still alive and with us. I guess we are just the average run-of-the-mill family.
No, I didn’t win. But if it takes a struggle, tragedy or abnormality to write an award-winning blog then I am fine with losing.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Silly Bands
You have seen them. Everyone is wearing them. Those colorful rubber bands that all the kids have around their wrists. It’s the newest craze. Personally, I think they are appropriately named--”silly” bands, that is. I mean, seriously, why would anyone every pay that kind of money for rubber bands? Bands that make shapes of a variety of things? For your kids to wear and share?
Well, I know who would buy them. I would! Now don’t get me wrong. We are not the kind of people that give into peer pressure very often. But, I gave in and bought some. Not only do I allow Caleb to wear them. I encourage it. And best yet, I even wear them.
Want to know why? It is a wonderful way for me to reward and punish Caleb with very little effort on my part. Here is how it works. I wear the bands on my wrist. When I catch Caleb doing something good, even the smallest thing, I give him one. He gets so excited about it that he then starts looking for things to do to get another one. It is wonderful. Then, when he does something he is not supposed to---well, I just ask for one back. It is a great exchange with very little effort on my part. I can wear them on my arm so they are readily available. There is no need to stop what I am doing and retrieve some other kind of reward. No need to spank or put him the corner (because neither really work on him). All I have to do is slip it off of my arm and hand it over. Contrarily, if he is in need of discipline, I just put my hand out. He knows he has to give me one back and on with life we go. That simple.
No, I am not naïve enough to think this will always work. I also know that these bands will not work in every situation. But, for now, they are a miracle for our issues with discipline and I am grateful. So, even though I still think they are silly, I also think they are ingenious . So next time you see our oldest just ask him how many bands he has and what he can do to get another.
Well, I know who would buy them. I would! Now don’t get me wrong. We are not the kind of people that give into peer pressure very often. But, I gave in and bought some. Not only do I allow Caleb to wear them. I encourage it. And best yet, I even wear them.
Want to know why? It is a wonderful way for me to reward and punish Caleb with very little effort on my part. Here is how it works. I wear the bands on my wrist. When I catch Caleb doing something good, even the smallest thing, I give him one. He gets so excited about it that he then starts looking for things to do to get another one. It is wonderful. Then, when he does something he is not supposed to---well, I just ask for one back. It is a great exchange with very little effort on my part. I can wear them on my arm so they are readily available. There is no need to stop what I am doing and retrieve some other kind of reward. No need to spank or put him the corner (because neither really work on him). All I have to do is slip it off of my arm and hand it over. Contrarily, if he is in need of discipline, I just put my hand out. He knows he has to give me one back and on with life we go. That simple.
No, I am not naïve enough to think this will always work. I also know that these bands will not work in every situation. But, for now, they are a miracle for our issues with discipline and I am grateful. So, even though I still think they are silly, I also think they are ingenious . So next time you see our oldest just ask him how many bands he has and what he can do to get another.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
BBQ Taste-Off
Last weekend we attended Lebanon’s “Third Annual BBQ Taste-Off“. We were handed a tray to fill and off we went. We walked around to various booths that had Dixie cups full of their own recipe of BBQ pork. The object was to gather as many cups of pork as you wanted, taste test them all and then report back to which one you thought was the best.
Some looked scrumptious. Others not so much. Some was labeled “sweet” or “spicy”. There were some booths too far away to travel to with four kids to make the effort but for the most part it was easily laid out. Matt, Caleb and I all tried our trayful of samplers. Bite after bite we put our choices in good and bad piles. In the end we all reported to each other our top three and we agreed on a winner.
But then I thought that is what it is like when we meet new people. We walk around with our tray and judge others by their appearances and decide only by outer looks if we will even consider them. We want people to come with a warning label that says sweet or spicy (I know I would get the latter.) and choose to not accept them even if it might be a spice we like. We prefer to not even go through the trouble if someone is too far away. Then as we try them we make our piles. A pile of people we want to hang out with and our pile of “no thank you’s”. In the end we have our favorites and if we are lucky we get to marry the one we liked the most. (which is hopefully the one your parents liked the most too.)
But I wonder sometimes…if I would have just tried the BBQ at booth 16 (that didn’t look that good or had the wrong label, or…) Maybe, just maybe, if I would have just given her a try, she could have become a good friend too.
Some looked scrumptious. Others not so much. Some was labeled “sweet” or “spicy”. There were some booths too far away to travel to with four kids to make the effort but for the most part it was easily laid out. Matt, Caleb and I all tried our trayful of samplers. Bite after bite we put our choices in good and bad piles. In the end we all reported to each other our top three and we agreed on a winner.
But then I thought that is what it is like when we meet new people. We walk around with our tray and judge others by their appearances and decide only by outer looks if we will even consider them. We want people to come with a warning label that says sweet or spicy (I know I would get the latter.) and choose to not accept them even if it might be a spice we like. We prefer to not even go through the trouble if someone is too far away. Then as we try them we make our piles. A pile of people we want to hang out with and our pile of “no thank you’s”. In the end we have our favorites and if we are lucky we get to marry the one we liked the most. (which is hopefully the one your parents liked the most too.)
But I wonder sometimes…if I would have just tried the BBQ at booth 16 (that didn’t look that good or had the wrong label, or…) Maybe, just maybe, if I would have just given her a try, she could have become a good friend too.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Football
Caleb started flag football last night. He is very excited. So am I. He is learning listening skills, routine and control while running and exercising. It is great. Practice was at the youth football field at the park where we used to live when we first moved to Lebanon. It was packed. There was no where to park. Cars and minivans lined the streets and filled neighbors' yards. All levels of players where at this particular location. All the leagues players from rookie flag football to 200 lbs high school linemen with pads and cleats, cheerleaders and, of course, parents were there. It was a site to see.
Like most nights, Matt and I had several things planned. We had to figure out how to juggle the schedule to get everyone where they needed to be on time. The plan was for Matt to take Caleb to practice while I had the other 3 at a different meeting. Then we were to meet half way through practice and switch. I would finish out practice with Caleb and Matt was taking the younger ones to his meeting. The plan worked in theory. I problem was that practice was at the park.
Within the 60 seconds that it took us to switch kids and locations, Rebekah unbuckled her seat belt, got out of the van and headed somewhere. Matt didn't look for her until he got out to the road due to the fact he was trying to navigate through all the people and cars. By the time he called me to tell me to start looking for her, she had been out of the van wondering around for 3-5 minutes. I was scared!
Remember, the place was packed. There was no way we could have started yelling for her. She would have never heard us. We don't know if she headed for the playground or the cheerleaders which were in completely opposite directions. We couldn't just look for a little girl as many siblings of the players were roaming around. I didn't even know where to start. It was a very overwhelming and hallow feeling.
Only by the grace of God did I spot her. God showed me right where she was in the midst of hundreds of people before Matt even got the van back through the mess of vehicles. I am so glad HE did. Not only could she have been kidnapped, abused, or simply lost. When I found her she was literally oblivious to her surroundings as she walked straight in the middle of a line of scrimmage of high school boys with pads. She almost got pummeled.
So, Caleb had a good practice and Rebekah is home safely. Her bottom is quite red still but she is sleeping in her own bed and that is a good thing. Thank you God.
Like most nights, Matt and I had several things planned. We had to figure out how to juggle the schedule to get everyone where they needed to be on time. The plan was for Matt to take Caleb to practice while I had the other 3 at a different meeting. Then we were to meet half way through practice and switch. I would finish out practice with Caleb and Matt was taking the younger ones to his meeting. The plan worked in theory. I problem was that practice was at the park.
Within the 60 seconds that it took us to switch kids and locations, Rebekah unbuckled her seat belt, got out of the van and headed somewhere. Matt didn't look for her until he got out to the road due to the fact he was trying to navigate through all the people and cars. By the time he called me to tell me to start looking for her, she had been out of the van wondering around for 3-5 minutes. I was scared!
Remember, the place was packed. There was no way we could have started yelling for her. She would have never heard us. We don't know if she headed for the playground or the cheerleaders which were in completely opposite directions. We couldn't just look for a little girl as many siblings of the players were roaming around. I didn't even know where to start. It was a very overwhelming and hallow feeling.
Only by the grace of God did I spot her. God showed me right where she was in the midst of hundreds of people before Matt even got the van back through the mess of vehicles. I am so glad HE did. Not only could she have been kidnapped, abused, or simply lost. When I found her she was literally oblivious to her surroundings as she walked straight in the middle of a line of scrimmage of high school boys with pads. She almost got pummeled.
So, Caleb had a good practice and Rebekah is home safely. Her bottom is quite red still but she is sleeping in her own bed and that is a good thing. Thank you God.
Monday, August 16, 2010
One week down!
The first week of school came and went. It actually went very fast. It was only five “work” days ago that I sent Caleb off to first grade and Rebekah to kindergarten. Within those five days they have made new friends, learned the lunch routine and have taken many pre-tests to determine how much they already know and how much need to learn.
Rebekah has been reviewing shapes, letters and numbers. She might actually be bored if she didn’t love to color and socialize so much. Caleb has a writing/reading assessment that he thoroughly hates because he has to use fine motor skills to write. But alternatively, he has math assessments that actually say (I kid you not) “algebra computation” that he really loves. He told me that “it‘s not really algebra, Mommy. It‘s just patt-er-erns.” And he loves patt-er-erns!
Sending them away for a large part of my day has been an adjustment. As much as I get bogged down with disciplining and breaking up fights, I really do love my children. I miss curling up on the couch and running out of lap space. I miss getting kisses from all directions even if I do know that it is them just sucking up to get something.
However, while they have been gone I have really gotten to spend some much needed quality time with Elizabeth and Zech. We have settled into a great routine that allows me to get my work done and still spend the day with them. As soon as the big kids are on the bus we get our “loud” chores done like vacuuming, putting away dishes, and running the washing machine, etc. Then when Zech takes his morning nap, Elizabeth and I read books, play with flash cards to learn numbers and colors and listen to music. She is really thriving on the one-on-one attention that she has never had before now. After Zech’s nap, we all have lunch together, run errands and occupy ourselves with a myriad of toys. But, my most favorite part of the day is afternoon naps. For two hours during my day, I have two kids at school and two kids in bed and I get so much done.
This week alone I have…
Potty-trained Elizabeth,
watched Zech learn to crawl, sit up on his own and felt his first tooth,
got wardrobes organized for family pictures taken,
unpacked the rest of our moving boxes,
organized closets and drawers,
completed five scrap booking layouts,
started a king-size quilt for our new bed,
“put up” roughly 820 jars of various veggies (give or take 100),
gone to the IMA, Sam’s Club, a natural foods store and the zoo,
visited with out-of-town friends for a day,
and read about 120 books (granted they were the same 12 books that I read repeatedly and had lots of pictures but I still spent a lot of time reading.)
So what is on the agenda for this week? God only knows. I can’t wait to see what I will be able to get done. But who knows maybe I will just sit here and color or complete some patt-er-erns. That sounds like fun.
Rebekah has been reviewing shapes, letters and numbers. She might actually be bored if she didn’t love to color and socialize so much. Caleb has a writing/reading assessment that he thoroughly hates because he has to use fine motor skills to write. But alternatively, he has math assessments that actually say (I kid you not) “algebra computation” that he really loves. He told me that “it‘s not really algebra, Mommy. It‘s just patt-er-erns.” And he loves patt-er-erns!
Sending them away for a large part of my day has been an adjustment. As much as I get bogged down with disciplining and breaking up fights, I really do love my children. I miss curling up on the couch and running out of lap space. I miss getting kisses from all directions even if I do know that it is them just sucking up to get something.
However, while they have been gone I have really gotten to spend some much needed quality time with Elizabeth and Zech. We have settled into a great routine that allows me to get my work done and still spend the day with them. As soon as the big kids are on the bus we get our “loud” chores done like vacuuming, putting away dishes, and running the washing machine, etc. Then when Zech takes his morning nap, Elizabeth and I read books, play with flash cards to learn numbers and colors and listen to music. She is really thriving on the one-on-one attention that she has never had before now. After Zech’s nap, we all have lunch together, run errands and occupy ourselves with a myriad of toys. But, my most favorite part of the day is afternoon naps. For two hours during my day, I have two kids at school and two kids in bed and I get so much done.
This week alone I have…
Potty-trained Elizabeth,
watched Zech learn to crawl, sit up on his own and felt his first tooth,
got wardrobes organized for family pictures taken,
unpacked the rest of our moving boxes,
organized closets and drawers,
completed five scrap booking layouts,
started a king-size quilt for our new bed,
“put up” roughly 820 jars of various veggies (give or take 100),
gone to the IMA, Sam’s Club, a natural foods store and the zoo,
visited with out-of-town friends for a day,
and read about 120 books (granted they were the same 12 books that I read repeatedly and had lots of pictures but I still spent a lot of time reading.)
So what is on the agenda for this week? God only knows. I can’t wait to see what I will be able to get done. But who knows maybe I will just sit here and color or complete some patt-er-erns. That sounds like fun.
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June 2010
Four little monkies all lined up in a row!