Purple liquid, flow'ry scent
Prolific foam makes my kids want to wash their hands
What would I do without you?
* * * * * * *
Seriously...what did we do before this stuff?
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
Flat as a Pancake
This morning I caught E riding his bike in the alley. Now, it's not that dangerous of a place to be, but a mom's gotta have principles. So, I called him inside with the dreaded, "you're in trouble, buddy" voice and he trudged in. After his 3 minute (or so) timeout, I went in to discuss with him his disobedient heart. I asked him if he was supposed to be in the alley. He shook his head. I asked him if he knew why he's not supposed to be in the alley. "Cuz I might get smooshed?" he replied. "Yes! You might get smooshed like a pancake," I affirmed, thankful that he was getting the point of his discipline. Then he looked up at me with those puppy dog eyes and asked, "would you eat me?"
I need to take a non-laughter class for moments like that one! Where do kids come up with this stuff?
I need to take a non-laughter class for moments like that one! Where do kids come up with this stuff?
Goofiness
#1) I would like to dedicate this photo to all those folks who
say that homeschooled kids are sheltered.
#2) In our family we emphasize donut--I mean, dental--hygiene!
Saturday, May 13, 2006
Number 4
Well, I was right. Number 4 is on his or her way. Yippee!!!! We are all very excited about this. Four sounds just right to me.
Already the humor has begun. When we told the kids, J's little mouth hung open in a gaping smile...apparently another sibling was not on his radar. E asked how I knew there was a baby in my tummy. "I peed on a stick," I answered (clearly without forethought). I could just see the little wheels turning in their minds thinking about all the sticks they've peed on and wondering why they've never found out they had babies in their tummies. I showed them the stick to clear up the confusion. All that week E kept coming up to me and asking, "Mom, why did you pee on a stick and God put a baby in your tummy?" J wanted to know if there were four lines if it meant there were two babies. Good logic.
And now the quest for an in-utero name for #4. This is very important to me. My parents named me before I was born. Bozo. Yup. Bozo was my first name. They thought I was a boy and apparently The Bozo Show was big at the time. What the heck?! Oh well, it was the 70's--what can you expect? When I was born (a girl!) my nickname became Bozie, which I was called affectionately, well into my teens. My little brother was Bombo. My baby sister Bobie. It was good to have a name to call the baby before it came.
So...J was Fluffy. Both B and I have tons of hair, so we kind of expected our first to come out resembling Ronald McDonald. E was Slurpee. I love Slurpees, it was a cute name, and there was an anteater on Zoboomafoo called Slurpee. K was Bun-Bun, as in "there's a bun in the oven". The boys called her Bun-Bun more than her real name for her first few months!
What will we call this baby? It takes time to come up with a name that is satisfactorily gender-neutral and cute. This is why I have rejected some of my boys' suggestions. The first suggestion out of J's mouth was "Zurg". Others to follow were "Buzz Droid", "Obi-Wan Kenobi", and "Mrs. Potato Head". B made his contribution, "how 'bout 'Spud'"? At least that one meets the requirements (sort of), but I just can't bring myself to name my unborn child after a tuber or one of Brandy's canines. Although, come to think of it, "Frito" would be kind of cute! Hmmm...I'll have to think about that one.
Meanwhile, the search continues...
Already the humor has begun. When we told the kids, J's little mouth hung open in a gaping smile...apparently another sibling was not on his radar. E asked how I knew there was a baby in my tummy. "I peed on a stick," I answered (clearly without forethought). I could just see the little wheels turning in their minds thinking about all the sticks they've peed on and wondering why they've never found out they had babies in their tummies. I showed them the stick to clear up the confusion. All that week E kept coming up to me and asking, "Mom, why did you pee on a stick and God put a baby in your tummy?" J wanted to know if there were four lines if it meant there were two babies. Good logic.
And now the quest for an in-utero name for #4. This is very important to me. My parents named me before I was born. Bozo. Yup. Bozo was my first name. They thought I was a boy and apparently The Bozo Show was big at the time. What the heck?! Oh well, it was the 70's--what can you expect? When I was born (a girl!) my nickname became Bozie, which I was called affectionately, well into my teens. My little brother was Bombo. My baby sister Bobie. It was good to have a name to call the baby before it came.
So...J was Fluffy. Both B and I have tons of hair, so we kind of expected our first to come out resembling Ronald McDonald. E was Slurpee. I love Slurpees, it was a cute name, and there was an anteater on Zoboomafoo called Slurpee. K was Bun-Bun, as in "there's a bun in the oven". The boys called her Bun-Bun more than her real name for her first few months!
What will we call this baby? It takes time to come up with a name that is satisfactorily gender-neutral and cute. This is why I have rejected some of my boys' suggestions. The first suggestion out of J's mouth was "Zurg". Others to follow were "Buzz Droid", "Obi-Wan Kenobi", and "Mrs. Potato Head". B made his contribution, "how 'bout 'Spud'"? At least that one meets the requirements (sort of), but I just can't bring myself to name my unborn child after a tuber or one of Brandy's canines. Although, come to think of it, "Frito" would be kind of cute! Hmmm...I'll have to think about that one.
Meanwhile, the search continues...
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
Through Farfa's Eyes
Recently a friend known affectionately by many names (e.g. Ra-Ra, Farfa, My Cheeseburger) stopped by to hang out for a few minutes. Since I was absent at the time, she sent me her reflections on the time with the kids. I loved what she had to say and wanted to save it...
I dropped in last night - it was fun to hang out with your kids…to watch
them play in the dirt and pull "flowers" for you. It was hard not to laugh
at little Ms. K - with dirt everywhere, with hair smelling like maple syrup
and with her chocolate covered smile. As I sat there…she would back up her
little bum and park it right in my lap. Oh - the joy, the peace and then
all of a sudden the explosion of energy as she would get up and waddle away to go get her brothers. And that is only K…I could go on and on about
E with his snotty, slimy face and grin that reached from ear to ear and the
twinkle in his eye that made you wonder what he was up to. Thank you for
sharing your family with me. I have so much fun with them.
...We have fun with you too, Farf! Thank you for so beautifully capturing the essence of my chitlins--maple syrup hair, snot and all!!
Saturday, April 29, 2006
My Little Evangelist
A few nights ago J was outside playing with next-door neighbor buddy, L while I made dinner inside. All of the sudden J is standing in the kitchen with an incredulous look on his face. "Mom!" he said, "L doesn't believe that God is real! But I believe he is; I'm a believer!"
I explained that many people don't believe in God, and that God says we should always be ready to give a reason for the hope that we have, but with gentleness and respect. "Don't be too hard on her, honey," I encouraged, "just explain to her what you believe."
"I'm going to go get my Bible!" he announced as he stormed off in evangelistic zeal (did he hear that last part, I wondered). He came downstairs and marched outside. I could hear him outside with passion/bossiness directing her to look at Bible stories with him. "This is real stuff in here, L," I heard him say.
A few minutes later he reappeared, frustrated. "She just keeps finding cute pictures of animals," he complained.
I thought the matter was finished then, until he returned with yet another Bible, this one without cute little animal cartoons. He resumed his crusade, finally frustrated by her lack of interest.
It was one of those moments you say to yourself, "so this is why I do everything I do." Thank you, Jesus!
I explained that many people don't believe in God, and that God says we should always be ready to give a reason for the hope that we have, but with gentleness and respect. "Don't be too hard on her, honey," I encouraged, "just explain to her what you believe."
"I'm going to go get my Bible!" he announced as he stormed off in evangelistic zeal (did he hear that last part, I wondered). He came downstairs and marched outside. I could hear him outside with passion/bossiness directing her to look at Bible stories with him. "This is real stuff in here, L," I heard him say.
A few minutes later he reappeared, frustrated. "She just keeps finding cute pictures of animals," he complained.
I thought the matter was finished then, until he returned with yet another Bible, this one without cute little animal cartoons. He resumed his crusade, finally frustrated by her lack of interest.
It was one of those moments you say to yourself, "so this is why I do everything I do." Thank you, Jesus!
Mommy's Glue Gun Obsession?
The other night on one of our frequent walks back from the candy store a tragedy happened... E was riding his little trike up the long hill to our house when his treasured Ring Pop fell to the ground at the exact moment that big brother J rode by on his bike. The result: one glorious piece of fruit-flavored candy dashed to pieces on the sidewalk.
As E began the dreaded cry of death, he suddenly looked up at me and asked,
"Mom...can you glue gun it?"
As E began the dreaded cry of death, he suddenly looked up at me and asked,
"Mom...can you glue gun it?"
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
Two Beautiful Things
Two beautiful things happened today in the midst of a difficult day...
First, Ethan prayed (in a 3-year-old way) to receive Christ. We were cuddling together just before his naptime after reading a book about God's presence all around us and in our hearts. He wanted to know if God was there with us and I said that he was and that God could be with him always if he asked Jesus to forgive him of his sins and became a child of God. We had just been reading John 1 the other day and talking about becoming children of God through believing in Christ. That day he said he wasn't ready to be a child of God. In fact, he hasn't seemed to have much interest in spiritual things. I've been trying to remember that he's only 3--he's got some time. But today he said he wanted to be a child of God. I asked him if he had ever sinned, to which he said yes, he had. I told him that people who don't ask Jesus to forgive them would not go to Heaven but to Hell instead. He is clearly beginning to understand and desire Heaven, and he wanted to go there. So we prayed together, him repeating after me a basic prayer asking for repentance and to be made a child of God. It was a sweet moment.
I definitely don't hang everything upon a prayer like this, especially since he pretty much recanted two seconds after saying "amen", saying that he really didn't want to be a child of God. But...God is working in his little heart. Lord, may he be a strong man of God for you someday!
The second beautiful thing was a gift Jay brought home for me from the Awana carnival. Each kid had the opportunity to pick out up to 20 toys and trinkets...the kind of stuff that kids love passionately but that drives parents completely insane when it breaks the first time a sibling even looks at it. So, of course he brought home an armload of great boy stuff--binoculars, a sword pen, a coin trick, a parachute guy, toy handcuffs, army helmet, etc. But then he pulled out something he said was for me...a delightfully cheap goldtone ring with a pretty blue "stone" in it. My heart melted. Even though I know it will turn my finger black in 2.7 femtoseconds. I love it. What a precious gift. What a precious son. I hope I never forget.
First, Ethan prayed (in a 3-year-old way) to receive Christ. We were cuddling together just before his naptime after reading a book about God's presence all around us and in our hearts. He wanted to know if God was there with us and I said that he was and that God could be with him always if he asked Jesus to forgive him of his sins and became a child of God. We had just been reading John 1 the other day and talking about becoming children of God through believing in Christ. That day he said he wasn't ready to be a child of God. In fact, he hasn't seemed to have much interest in spiritual things. I've been trying to remember that he's only 3--he's got some time. But today he said he wanted to be a child of God. I asked him if he had ever sinned, to which he said yes, he had. I told him that people who don't ask Jesus to forgive them would not go to Heaven but to Hell instead. He is clearly beginning to understand and desire Heaven, and he wanted to go there. So we prayed together, him repeating after me a basic prayer asking for repentance and to be made a child of God. It was a sweet moment.
I definitely don't hang everything upon a prayer like this, especially since he pretty much recanted two seconds after saying "amen", saying that he really didn't want to be a child of God. But...God is working in his little heart. Lord, may he be a strong man of God for you someday!
The second beautiful thing was a gift Jay brought home for me from the Awana carnival. Each kid had the opportunity to pick out up to 20 toys and trinkets...the kind of stuff that kids love passionately but that drives parents completely insane when it breaks the first time a sibling even looks at it. So, of course he brought home an armload of great boy stuff--binoculars, a sword pen, a coin trick, a parachute guy, toy handcuffs, army helmet, etc. But then he pulled out something he said was for me...a delightfully cheap goldtone ring with a pretty blue "stone" in it. My heart melted. Even though I know it will turn my finger black in 2.7 femtoseconds. I love it. What a precious gift. What a precious son. I hope I never forget.
My Battle
Did I just say I was doing well? What was that--3 days ago? Well, never mind. I am thankful that God gave me that "anniversary" to reflect on how far I've come in a year, but now it seems I've been thrown back down into the pit.
I saw a friend today at the grocery store who kindly and with great compassion listened to my condition report and pledged to pray for me. As I walked away I felt a sense of relief in having shared my struggle with someone who knows the battlefront well. But I was then suddenly overcome by a sense of despair as the thought rose up in me, "pray for what? I've tried that already. I've tried everything. What prayer is there for a day like this?"
As I explained to my friend, I am doing everything I can to avoid days like this one (and the past two): I eat well, run three times a week, take Omega-3's, injest a nasty whey protein shake every morning (actually, it's not that bad...except for the chunks), get enough sleep, and take a small dose of Zoloft. And, by God's grace, it has helped. As related in my last post, I have been granted relief from my depression and anxiety over this past year. But I am extremely sensitive to any changes going on in my body or hormones, and something tells me there may be a little ball of cells growing in my tummy that is throwing everything out of whack again. This is a wonderful, hoped for thing. But the change is causing a tumult within.
It is such a dark place, depression. There is no joy. No peace. My eyes look downward and my heart inward. I can barely look B in the eyes--it takes too much energy to relate to him. Every simplistic question from a demanding child grates on my nerves. I spew forth a steady stream of angry "don't!"s and "no!"s. No one can please me. I can't pray. God is far off and my heart is shut down.
At least it's not as bad as it has been in times pre-meds. At least I still want to be around people.
What I found myself asking the Lord this morning was, "what do I do when one of these days comes? How do I survive?" I need to figure this out.
I have learned that time with friends helps. And doing things I enjoy, like working on my blog, watching a fun show, sitting out in the sun. Time away is helpful as well, which, praise God! I will be doing this weekend at the homeschool convention. But some of these are not realistic options in the midst of a 12 hour day with the kids. I am desperate to figure out any other battle tactics that I can to survive until things are back in balance again.
Any suggestions?
I saw a friend today at the grocery store who kindly and with great compassion listened to my condition report and pledged to pray for me. As I walked away I felt a sense of relief in having shared my struggle with someone who knows the battlefront well. But I was then suddenly overcome by a sense of despair as the thought rose up in me, "pray for what? I've tried that already. I've tried everything. What prayer is there for a day like this?"
As I explained to my friend, I am doing everything I can to avoid days like this one (and the past two): I eat well, run three times a week, take Omega-3's, injest a nasty whey protein shake every morning (actually, it's not that bad...except for the chunks), get enough sleep, and take a small dose of Zoloft. And, by God's grace, it has helped. As related in my last post, I have been granted relief from my depression and anxiety over this past year. But I am extremely sensitive to any changes going on in my body or hormones, and something tells me there may be a little ball of cells growing in my tummy that is throwing everything out of whack again. This is a wonderful, hoped for thing. But the change is causing a tumult within.
It is such a dark place, depression. There is no joy. No peace. My eyes look downward and my heart inward. I can barely look B in the eyes--it takes too much energy to relate to him. Every simplistic question from a demanding child grates on my nerves. I spew forth a steady stream of angry "don't!"s and "no!"s. No one can please me. I can't pray. God is far off and my heart is shut down.
At least it's not as bad as it has been in times pre-meds. At least I still want to be around people.
What I found myself asking the Lord this morning was, "what do I do when one of these days comes? How do I survive?" I need to figure this out.
I have learned that time with friends helps. And doing things I enjoy, like working on my blog, watching a fun show, sitting out in the sun. Time away is helpful as well, which, praise God! I will be doing this weekend at the homeschool convention. But some of these are not realistic options in the midst of a 12 hour day with the kids. I am desperate to figure out any other battle tactics that I can to survive until things are back in balance again.
Any suggestions?
Sunday, April 16, 2006
Celebrating Easter Again
It's Easter Sunday again... my favorite day of the year. Being reminded of Jesus' victory over death and the subsequent victory he won for us is awesome. I was in awe of my God this morning. Before the kids got up I turned to Luke 24 and read to the end of the book. What struck me was how the disciples had been with Christ all that time, that he had even told them he would die and rise again, and still they were confused by his missing body. And when they saw him, they didn't even recognize him! Not until their eyes were opened did they finally see who he was, as he broke bread with them (v. 31). It's not that I blame them for doubting. I certainly have had my fair share of questions and doubts. It's that they didn't even recognize him when he stood right before them. Their eyes had to be opened for them to understand and see him for who he really is, not who they thought he was.
Lord, there are so many in my life who need their eyes opened. Please will you let them see you for who you truly are...let them see and believe! Especially right now I pray this for GT and LT, for GJ and PJ...Hosanna! Save now!
Theology aside, I am just really grateful today. It was Easter Sunday last year that I felt like I was on the bottom of 10 feet of water. What should have been the most joyful worship service of the year turned out to be the last straw and caused me to finally seek medical help for my depression. It was so hard for me to take medicine for it; I battled feelings of failure and inadequacy as a Christian. But praise God for Zoloft! He has used it to bring me back and to help me to be myself again! This morning I danced in my living room and praised my Savior with all my heart. Thank you, loving God, for lifting me out of despair and restoring my joy!
Lord, there are so many in my life who need their eyes opened. Please will you let them see you for who you truly are...let them see and believe! Especially right now I pray this for GT and LT, for GJ and PJ...Hosanna! Save now!
Theology aside, I am just really grateful today. It was Easter Sunday last year that I felt like I was on the bottom of 10 feet of water. What should have been the most joyful worship service of the year turned out to be the last straw and caused me to finally seek medical help for my depression. It was so hard for me to take medicine for it; I battled feelings of failure and inadequacy as a Christian. But praise God for Zoloft! He has used it to bring me back and to help me to be myself again! This morning I danced in my living room and praised my Savior with all my heart. Thank you, loving God, for lifting me out of despair and restoring my joy!
Thursday, March 09, 2006
Willow River Homeschoolin'
Pam was in charge of "co-op" today. She suggested a morning at the nearby State Park for some time out in the wild. Winter needs to go! Turned out to be a perfect day out there...50 degrees and lots of mud. What could be better for 4 kids and their eager mommies?
Wednesday, March 08, 2006
Tuesday, March 07, 2006
Faithful
"So then the question comes to me and to you each day: Will you be
faithful? Will you discharge your gifts, fortunes, and life for truth,
love, and beauty to the glory of God? Don't seek success per se,
and do not seek greatness; be faithful with what you have been given to
do. Be faithful to whom you have been given to love."
--Tim Porter, faithcommunity.info/blog/porter
This was encouraging to me today. I identify with Tim's struggle with what boils down to prideful envy of the success and notoriety of others. Sometimes I feel so insignificant, almost like my life is being wasted. I'm a smart woman with a passion for people, theology and ministry. And yet it seems like my life is consumed with runny noses, poopy bottoms, breaking up fights between two young boys, and a messy house that defies every effort I make to keep up with it. Why did I go to college, anyway? For this? What was I thinking? I wanted to save the world (see previous post), be off in other cultures serving Christ... and yet here I am, a mom of 3 who has time or energy for little else.
Last night I got a call asking me to join the leadership of a ministry at church. Nothing earth shattering or anything, but I would be leading something. I acknowledged to B that now is not the time, that I don't have enough to give to this important ministry, despite my desire to be a part of it. And then I confessed my prideful thoughts accompanying this decision... "I could be in charge of something... Finally someone sees my potential!... I wouldn't be just a mom anymore!"... It's probably a good thing I can't serve in this position right now--God has some serious humility work to do in me first!
But I know that a lot of this comes from not accepting the post God has given me. This is where he has placed me, and as Tim said, I need to be faithful right here. To the ones God has given me. This is my high calling. Not to seek greatness. Only to be faithful.
Lord, help me to be your faithful servant! Let me give everything you've placed within me to serve you right here, right now. Help me not clamor after greater things. Just fix my eyes on you and let me run. Oh, and please give me a humble heart!
Thursday, February 09, 2006
Why?
Why?
Why am I sitting here at midnight, knowing I need to go to bed, but choosing tonight (of all nights) to start a blog?
Why write any of this down, anyway? Who will benefit from it?
I can't go to bed now. I just watched a Frontline program about the sex trafficking of women over in eastern Europe. I am sick and angry after seeing real women talk about what was done to them...what is being done to half a million women every single year in this evil-ravaged planet. I can barely stand it. And I know I cannot sleep. Not until some of this can come out. Be processed. Proclaimed. Prayed.
Jesus, why? How can there be so much pain? So much evil? The very ones that you created to be your image-bearers of beauty and life are being systematically hunted and consumed by the one who hates them for their beauty, for their life-giving ability. He destroys them, tells them they have no beauty to hold out for the world to see, steals their innocence, their physical and emotional health, and their unborn children. They are trapped. Without hope. Without anyone to come and save them. Their hearts are destroyed. Their bodies become diseased. Their children back at home weep because they have disappeared.
How can this be? How can I be so blind to what is happening in this world? I hate knowing this stuff exists. I should be doing so much more! LORD, what can I do? I want to fly to Turkey (or Soho or L.A. or everyplace else this is happening--which is everywhere) and burst into a brothel and carry them away with me. Take them someplace safe. Hold them and tell them about the love of their Maker. Rebuild what was demolished. Set them free.
But I can't even go and save one of them. I am a mom. In rural Wisconsin. I homeschool. I clean the house and cook meals for my family. I try to reach out to hurting teens. That's it. I feel so powerless. So ineffective. Why didn't I choose the harder road... the one where I could have gone off and sacrificed my "wants" for their "needs"? I could have made such a difference.
That choice is past me now. But what can I do now, Lord? I want to press into this life and use every ounce of it to serve You and the ones you love. I don't want to settle for status quo mommyhood and middle-class complacency. There are people dying all around me. Oh GOD! Please use me! Beyond my station in life! Please fill me with your strength and power to make a difference. To be your agent of life and hope and peace. Jesus--help me see what I can do. Don't let me settle. Don't let me coast through this short life. There is so little time and so much work. Please hear my prayer and work, mighty One! Let the tide of evil be turned back in Your awesome Name!
Why am I sitting here at midnight, knowing I need to go to bed, but choosing tonight (of all nights) to start a blog?
Why write any of this down, anyway? Who will benefit from it?
I can't go to bed now. I just watched a Frontline program about the sex trafficking of women over in eastern Europe. I am sick and angry after seeing real women talk about what was done to them...what is being done to half a million women every single year in this evil-ravaged planet. I can barely stand it. And I know I cannot sleep. Not until some of this can come out. Be processed. Proclaimed. Prayed.
Jesus, why? How can there be so much pain? So much evil? The very ones that you created to be your image-bearers of beauty and life are being systematically hunted and consumed by the one who hates them for their beauty, for their life-giving ability. He destroys them, tells them they have no beauty to hold out for the world to see, steals their innocence, their physical and emotional health, and their unborn children. They are trapped. Without hope. Without anyone to come and save them. Their hearts are destroyed. Their bodies become diseased. Their children back at home weep because they have disappeared.
How can this be? How can I be so blind to what is happening in this world? I hate knowing this stuff exists. I should be doing so much more! LORD, what can I do? I want to fly to Turkey (or Soho or L.A. or everyplace else this is happening--which is everywhere) and burst into a brothel and carry them away with me. Take them someplace safe. Hold them and tell them about the love of their Maker. Rebuild what was demolished. Set them free.
But I can't even go and save one of them. I am a mom. In rural Wisconsin. I homeschool. I clean the house and cook meals for my family. I try to reach out to hurting teens. That's it. I feel so powerless. So ineffective. Why didn't I choose the harder road... the one where I could have gone off and sacrificed my "wants" for their "needs"? I could have made such a difference.
That choice is past me now. But what can I do now, Lord? I want to press into this life and use every ounce of it to serve You and the ones you love. I don't want to settle for status quo mommyhood and middle-class complacency. There are people dying all around me. Oh GOD! Please use me! Beyond my station in life! Please fill me with your strength and power to make a difference. To be your agent of life and hope and peace. Jesus--help me see what I can do. Don't let me settle. Don't let me coast through this short life. There is so little time and so much work. Please hear my prayer and work, mighty One! Let the tide of evil be turned back in Your awesome Name!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)