Yesterday, I wept for our friends and their baby in distress. The fear was big and the tears came often because the most likely outcome was grim at best, and the very worst outcome was certainly possible. I burned 3 grilled cheese sandwiches in a row because I couldn't concentrate on anything but this dear baby and his mother. I prayed and pleaded and imagined each word joining a chorus of prayer from dozens, if not hundreds of others who knew of and loved this family.
Today. Today the Lord replied. He moved a mountain for the mother. And He healed. The grim and worst for the baby are no longer, and he is growing stronger. All who prayed and pleaded changed the chorus to "Hallelujah!" In the resurrection the Lord conquered death. Today I feel like I saw the Lord conquer death for a little boy just starting his life on Earth.
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Monday, January 9, 2012
The Long Arm of the Law
Parenting is a life-long process, 24/7/365. It's arduous work. Which is why one would think I'd be happy to relinquish the parenting of other children to THEIR actual parents. But the hazard of never clocking out of my job as mother (especially the disciplinarian part) is I sometimes feel the need to discipline everyone, even adults. I've corrected my dad for his unreasonable impatience or condescending tone. I've called strangers out on rude behavior. I barked at a bunch of kids trying to kick in a locked playground gate (while their mother sat and watched.) And I even reprimanded a mother who didn't think her son should apologize for hurting my son (it was a serious knock to the head, not just a little push.) I'm kind of out of control. Clearly this is the effect of all tolerance and patience having been exhausted by my own misbehaving kids.
One of the more delicate parts of this persistent parenting is disciplining our kids' friends. For our closest family friends, co-parenting is expected, encouraged and respected. Our children are learning to respect the rules of other families from adults who have the same basic parenting style (and end goal) that we do. We know these people genuinely love our kids (as we love theirs) and their discipline comes from that love. We will back them up and not make excuses for our children. I've learned a lot about who I want my kids to be and how to be a better parent from this openness.
On the other hand, today I disciplined a neighbor friend in front of her dad, because I knew playing the conflict out according to the rules of our family would help my own child work quickly through the foreseen squabble and meltdown to a peaceful resolution. The friend would need to say sorry and my son could forgive, and I knew we'd save a half hour of crying over a lost ROCK. But I didn't account for the friend's feelings (she was obviously upset for being called out) and I definitely feel like I overstepped my bounds doing all of this with her dad standing right next to me. I believe an apology is on my agenda tomorrow afternoon...
Things can get messy with families that we interact with regularly, but with whom we have not established mutual parenting boundaries. I have no problem asking a child who is playing in my home to follow "The House Rules" when their parents aren't there, but when they are, is it overstepping my bounds? Am I telling that adult that I don't respect their parenting or I don't like their child? Is it better to go to the parent first and have them correct the child? That feels more like tattling. Do you let the behavior go? Bending the house rules for friends can seem awfully unfair to young kids, and it's not a precedent I want to set. And what does that teach my kids about holding their own friends accountable to certain standards when adults aren't around with the rule book?
One of the more delicate parts of this persistent parenting is disciplining our kids' friends. For our closest family friends, co-parenting is expected, encouraged and respected. Our children are learning to respect the rules of other families from adults who have the same basic parenting style (and end goal) that we do. We know these people genuinely love our kids (as we love theirs) and their discipline comes from that love. We will back them up and not make excuses for our children. I've learned a lot about who I want my kids to be and how to be a better parent from this openness.
On the other hand, today I disciplined a neighbor friend in front of her dad, because I knew playing the conflict out according to the rules of our family would help my own child work quickly through the foreseen squabble and meltdown to a peaceful resolution. The friend would need to say sorry and my son could forgive, and I knew we'd save a half hour of crying over a lost ROCK. But I didn't account for the friend's feelings (she was obviously upset for being called out) and I definitely feel like I overstepped my bounds doing all of this with her dad standing right next to me. I believe an apology is on my agenda tomorrow afternoon...
Things can get messy with families that we interact with regularly, but with whom we have not established mutual parenting boundaries. I have no problem asking a child who is playing in my home to follow "The House Rules" when their parents aren't there, but when they are, is it overstepping my bounds? Am I telling that adult that I don't respect their parenting or I don't like their child? Is it better to go to the parent first and have them correct the child? That feels more like tattling. Do you let the behavior go? Bending the house rules for friends can seem awfully unfair to young kids, and it's not a precedent I want to set. And what does that teach my kids about holding their own friends accountable to certain standards when adults aren't around with the rule book?
Sunday, January 1, 2012
Aunt Joann
When I review 2011 the lows stand out more than the highs. Three people near and dear to me experienced some devastating blows to their marriages. School was difficult for Daniel and the rest of us. Addie worked her way out of and back into some very challenging behaviors. Nathan became a non-stop tornado of danger and destruction. Our sewer line disintegrated and fixing it meant we could no longer afford to move.
The greatest low was the loss of my Aunt Joann to a rare illness. She was kind and ABUNDANTLY generous (especially to my children.) She had some great hair colors over the years and a funny cackling laugh I will always remember (partly because my mom sometimes makes that laugh, too.) We didn't spend a lot of time with my mom's side of the family growing up. As adults, Mom and her sister weren't especially close, but they had rekindled a tighter sisterhood in the last 15 years. When Daniel was born, Great Aunt Joann was born, too. She loved my kids and lavished them with gifts and clothing. The gift bags.....oh, the never ending gift bags! Her gifts often included praise and worship CD's, bible stories and prayer books. I treasure that it was important to her that my kids knew about God, His Word, and songs that praise Him. She had a deep and beautiful faith.
Tonight we celebrated our first Christmas without her. She was greatly missed (though the present pile was notably more manageable.)
The greatest low was the loss of my Aunt Joann to a rare illness. She was kind and ABUNDANTLY generous (especially to my children.) She had some great hair colors over the years and a funny cackling laugh I will always remember (partly because my mom sometimes makes that laugh, too.) We didn't spend a lot of time with my mom's side of the family growing up. As adults, Mom and her sister weren't especially close, but they had rekindled a tighter sisterhood in the last 15 years. When Daniel was born, Great Aunt Joann was born, too. She loved my kids and lavished them with gifts and clothing. The gift bags.....oh, the never ending gift bags! Her gifts often included praise and worship CD's, bible stories and prayer books. I treasure that it was important to her that my kids knew about God, His Word, and songs that praise Him. She had a deep and beautiful faith.
Tonight we celebrated our first Christmas without her. She was greatly missed (though the present pile was notably more manageable.)
Grandma's Christmas Cookies
Growing up we always celebrated Christmas Eve at my Dad's parents' home. Sometime after dinner all of the kids would shuffle past the gigantic (creepy) bobble-headed Santa in the foyer and out the front door to "walk the dog" while adults scrambled inside to pull wrapped packages from their hiding places and pile them under the tree. When they were all set my grandpa would go out on the back deck and blow a big red plastic horn (think vuvuzela) signaling Santa's arrival. You know Santa blows a horn, right? Then we would all run back inside, an adult would mention something about how we "just missed Santa" and we would stand in awe of the present mountain in my grandparents' living room. It was awesome, and I love that we carry this tradition on for the next generation of my family.
My grandpa has passed and Grandma now lives in a small apartment, too small for the growing "next generation" and the present mountain. This Christmas we moved the Christmas Eve celebration (and the red horn) to my parents' house. I think Grandma was a little reluctant to give it up seeing as she decorated her apartment, filled stockings for the great-grandkids and asked us to come to her place to get them. She did agree to make the most requested Christmas cookies, but claimed this is the last year she will make them. I say "most requested" because at one point I'm pretty sure she made at least 437 different kinds of cookies all from scratch, except the yucky anise cookies that came from a bakery and my dad is the only one who eats those anyway. So this year she scaled back to about 8.
Recently, Grandma has started to show and feel her 87 years. She is having more trouble walking, is forgetful, gets a little confused sometimes and has started addressing all of my cards to "Ginny." She lets her ridiculous little dog, Cocoa, run her life and has overfed it to the point that none of us would be surprised if the dog actually exploded. Christmas Eve, Grandma sat in charge of the 3-teired cookie platter, doling out goodies to her 8 great-grandchildren. Addie sat next to her. When she finished one cookie, Grandma handed her another. I'm pretty sure Addie ate 12 cookies. I hope this isn't the last year.
My grandpa has passed and Grandma now lives in a small apartment, too small for the growing "next generation" and the present mountain. This Christmas we moved the Christmas Eve celebration (and the red horn) to my parents' house. I think Grandma was a little reluctant to give it up seeing as she decorated her apartment, filled stockings for the great-grandkids and asked us to come to her place to get them. She did agree to make the most requested Christmas cookies, but claimed this is the last year she will make them. I say "most requested" because at one point I'm pretty sure she made at least 437 different kinds of cookies all from scratch, except the yucky anise cookies that came from a bakery and my dad is the only one who eats those anyway. So this year she scaled back to about 8.
Recently, Grandma has started to show and feel her 87 years. She is having more trouble walking, is forgetful, gets a little confused sometimes and has started addressing all of my cards to "Ginny." She lets her ridiculous little dog, Cocoa, run her life and has overfed it to the point that none of us would be surprised if the dog actually exploded. Christmas Eve, Grandma sat in charge of the 3-teired cookie platter, doling out goodies to her 8 great-grandchildren. Addie sat next to her. When she finished one cookie, Grandma handed her another. I'm pretty sure Addie ate 12 cookies. I hope this isn't the last year.
Christmas Marathon 2011
As we head to our sixth, no, SEVENTH?!? Christmas celebration tonight I can't help but feel like it should be February by now. We saw most of the friends we hoped to, spent time with family we don't see often enough, ate a RIDICULOUS number of cookies, and the kids received trunkloads of gifts. That last part makes my chest feel tight.
Uncle Jason and Tucker in from Atlanta
Ashley and Ian opening gifts Christmas Eve at Gram's
Favorite older cousin Tristan in from Colorado!
Ella in her fabulous new princess attire....ALL of it.
Nate was pretty excited about the Christmas hoopla!
Christmas Eve at Gram's.
Christmas morning at home.
A couple of days late, but it snowed just enough for a snowman. The rest of the week the kids were in shorts. Very weird December, but we'll take it. Next year I think I will take a cue from the airlines. "If you wish to give my child a gift, it must fit in this shoebox. Only one gift per giver. Gifts that do not fit in this box will be checked....to Goodwill."
Thursday, December 15, 2011
She's Good....and by that I mean diabolical.
How does a little sister get her justice-loving, rule following, people-pleasing big brother's goat? She draws a picture of him scaring her, tears streaming down her sad little face and then hangs it on the fridge. When big brother objected to the subject matter of the picture she quickly drew JESUS in the sky, looking down on him with contempt. And then drew ropes around him because, "I tied him up for being mean."
Not sure what the floating heads are (cherubim?) or whom the fellow on the right may be. I'm just happy she drew Jesus as judge and not our Elf on the Shelf. This proves that our family holiday traditions are not confusing her theology.
Not sure what the floating heads are (cherubim?) or whom the fellow on the right may be. I'm just happy she drew Jesus as judge and not our Elf on the Shelf. This proves that our family holiday traditions are not confusing her theology.
Monday, November 21, 2011
Happy Birthday, Husband
That short little man in the orange jump suit is all kinds of awesome, but the guy flashing the hippie/seven-year-old girl peace sign is my favorite. Tomorrow is his 37th Birthday. I like that as we get older the number of years we've known each other becomes greater than the years we didn't. It means we belong to each other more.
I'd rather hang out with him than anyone. He's a little weird, but his weirdness is funny. Like he recently referred to my upcoming gynecological appointment as, "going in for a tune up." He's a master of slap stick, much to the delight of our kids.
When he's away our lives are different; paused, in a getting by kind of way. When he's home we're moving forward together. He knows our kids and what they need well, sometimes better than I do and that kind of ticks me off.
He knows and loves me well, and I feel delighted in.
He's going gray and I really like it.
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