Look At ME!

I'm taking a break. I am posting just because I can!

Things here on the official day 2 of school are going okay. I did two loads of laundry today. Served lunch without too much chaos. Cleaned the bathroom sink. Got Ms. Boo a shower (I still wash her hair.) Made butternut squash soup. Completed all of Boo's lessons with her. Built a fort (several times.) And - this is the kicker - all the kids had their teeth brushed today.

Maybe, and I do mean maybe, I can settle in with this schedule. Much of it depends on how willing the Boo is to do her work. Today was better than yesterday. But we've had lots of breaks (read: snacks) worked into the day, so maybe it will be doable.

Ms. Bao has been a little bit difficult. She's still very impatient and can't wait for us to finish part of a lesson if she has decided that she needs me for something. But we are working on it. And she is only getting older, so I take comfort in that. (And any of you out there who want to tell me that the threes are worse than the twos, please don't.)

In the mean time, I'd like to ask you all to pray for Ms. Bao. She has been getting various itchy welts all over her body for over a month now. It calmed down considerably about a week ago, but the last two days have been bad. Huge welts. Her lip has swollen a few times. She scratches so hard that she bleeds.

The initial blood test for all the "regular" allergies came back clear. We are scheduled to see the pediatric allergist on Friday of next week - and she can't have any allergy medication for five days before the testing. If the reaction doesn't calm down soon, it will be a very difficult five days.

Anyway, that's all for now. If any of you have been praying for me as this school year has started, I appreciate it.

Aliens Have Abducted my Child

And they've programmed her replacement to say: "Mom, can I please do a handwriting lesson today?"

Hello, Aliens! If you want me to believe this creature is my child, you are going to have make her say things that my child would actually say!

DUH!

Why Didn't I Know About This?

Ms. Boo, who is now 6 years old has been a crafter since she was old enough to hold scissors. If a box sits around too long, she'll turn it into something. (Rarely is it identifiable, but still - it's something.) When she was just a wee child, about three or so, she asked me at breakfast one day, "Mom, what craft will we be doing today?"

As if mothers have a schedule.

Of craft projects.

DAILY.

You see, it makes all kinds of sense to her six-year-old mind that, uh yeah, you do a craft, like every day.

And believe me, her world spins slightly off center when she doesn't get her daily fix.

So, in the crafty world she inhabits, it is completely within reason that her mother should:

1. have supplies on hand at all times. Never mind that she doesn't always know what she needs for a particular project. If she doesn't know what she needs, she just tells mom and mom can figure it out. (NOW, preferably.)
   
2. think of a suitable craft for a a six-year-old whenever the six-year-old can't think of one herself. (NOW, preferably.)
3. help her with the craft. (Oh, and, NOW, preferably.)
   

And did I mention that she expects mom to do these things NOW? Because she does.

The thing is, I get it. I was just like her when I was a kid and it was beyond frustrating when I could not make something because I didn't have a good idea, or I wasn't big enough to use a tool, or we didn't have what we needed for the job. So, I get it, I really do.

But being on this end of the frustrated crafter's demands is a little draining, even for someone who loves crafting.

So, who, WHO I ASK YOU? Felt it was a good idea to keep this a secret from me?

Oh, sweet mercy, we are CAMPING OUT at the Home Depot once a month so we can GET THERE AS SOON AS IT STARTS! WE CAN'T WASTE TIME! IT'S HOME DEPOT DAY!

We went to our first Kids Workshop at the Home Depot at the beginning of the month. REAL HAMMERS. REAL NAILS. They even gave the kids a REAL APRON. And my daughter made a REAL CRAFT CADDY.

Did you get that? A CRAFT CADDY! Because what on earth would delight a crafter more than crafting a craft caddy? I don't know. But, my lands, she was pleased.

And so was her mom. You know why? It wasn't the popcorn or the sucker or even the shiny pin for her new apron. What pleased her mom was the fact that she wasn't making another useless foam magnet or sequined picture frame. No, she made something practical out of real wood and... get ready for this... it was FREE!

Mr. Bug also enjoyed himself immensely. Because, did I mention there were REAL hammers and nails and all?

I'm telling you, if you haven't been, you need to check this out.

I've heard Lowe's has a version of this too...

Reality is Setting in

The kids have spent the better part of last night and this morning preparing "lemonade." This lemonade consists of a pitcher of water into which they put half of a lemon and stirred it around for a while.

Ms. Boo-6 came to me this morning and asked if I could make a sign that said "A dollar and ten cents for a cup."

The TV table is out in the yard flanked by three lawn chairs.

It's the typical summer undertaking of the average American kid, but the reality is setting in for Ms. Boo. She hasn't sold anything all morning. Unfortunately, for her, she is much more disappointed than the average kid.

You see, she was trying to earn enough money so that her teacher daddy wouldn't have to go back to work.

Very sweet.

Whatcha Gonna do When They Come for You?

Ms. Boo is going through a phase. Every time she sees a policeman, she asks what he is doing. Every time she sees a police cruiser, she asks why it's there. The sight of anything even remotely related to law enforcement (mall security...) often ushers in a slew of questions about going to jail, getting arrested, and what behaviors are "against the law."

She came in the house one day, sobbing, because the neighbor girl had joked that Boo was going to be arrested.

Good gracious. The girl is afraid she's going to do something that lands her in jail.

I wasn't thinking much about this phase when I started making dinner on Tuesday night. Chicken, rice, applesauce. The kids asked what I was making and, when I told them, I immediately heard two responses. Mr. Bug said, "I love rice." Ms. Boo said, "I don't like rice."

To which I thought: I know and I know. Respectively.

So, when dinner time came, I offered to put some of the sauce from the chicken on the rice for Boo, telling her it might taste better that way. Then, I went on with dinner without paying much attention to what she was eating.

Near the end of dinner, I asked her if she tried the rice. Her reply: Yes. Then I asked if she liked it. Her reply: No.

And I was fine with that. She walked over to the trash can to scrape the scraps (and the pile of rice) into the garbage. It was then that the questions began again. I didn't think much of it, as it is really commonplace now.

Boo: Mom, is it against the law to tell a lie?
Me: Well, it's against God's Law to lie. But not all lies are against the government's law.
Boo: What kind of lies are against the law?
Me: Uhh, (thinking....) if you lie about how much money you make so that you don't have to pay taxes, that is against the law.
Boo: What other lies can make you go to jail?
Me: (tired, and still totally clueless) I don't know, Boo. If you are worried that you are going to go to jail, I don't think you have anything to worry about.
Boo: Mom, can you go to jail for saying that you ate rice when you really didn't?

I almost bust a gut laughing, but I held it in and calmly asked her, "did you just lie to me about eating that rice?"

She looked at me with this expression that said How on earth did you figure that out?

Seriously.

What Do You Get When You Cross...

Three kids with:

one bowl, a bunch of grapes, and a garlic press?

Why, grape juice, of course!

Because I Think It's Cute

Last Monday, I suggested that Ms. Boo draw a picture or write a letter for someone. She decided my mom would be the lucky recipient. She drew this picture:

When I suggested that she try to write a short letter to her grandmother to accompany the picture, she said she wanted to write a poem. I told her to go for it.

"What do I write?" she asked me.

I told her she could write whatever she wanted, but she insisted that I make up a poem for her to write. I did. And she wrote. I helped her with her sight words. The other stuff she figured out without much help from me. Here is what she came up with:

I Couldn't Make this Stuff up if I Tried

Remember the curtains? No, not the movie with Denzel Washington. THE Curtains. These curtains. Remember them? Right.

Ms. Boo remembers them too. You know how I know this? Because last night, on a family outing to the Home Depot to pick out some new interior doors, Boo asked, "Are we going to have no doors for a few days?"

Oh, yes. She remembers. She has witnessed the home improvement process at our house. It's. Not. Pretty.

Case in point. It took us about 45 minutes to install a new toilet seat earlier this week. A toilet seat. 45 minutes.

No. I am not kidding.

So we went over to the HD, and discussed all things door with the very helpful Jeff, HD employee and door expert. He puts the door in hunky doory. (I had to. I just had to.)

After about 45 minutes worth of questions patiently answered by Jeff, we made our way to the registers, and loaded the van with our two, brand new ceiling fans.

Doors might not be the thing for us right now. But, with all the money we've got to burn, we just HAD to buy something. Lucky, lucky ceiling fans.

Paul came home this afternoon to a wife still in her pajamas. And a living room strewn with all manner of toys and an entire container of neon-colored hair elastics. The family room - not much better. I wanted to tell him that I cleaned all day. I really did. But the microwave is the only thing I have to show for it (what can I say, I had a lemon I needed to use) so I didn't even bother trying to convince him.

Don't think I am going off on a tangent here. When it comes to home improvements, nothing is tangential at this house. I just wanted you to know that I was SO into cleaning mode that I not only stayed in my PJs all day, but I also HAND WASHED a bunch of dishes.

I'm convinced that today's planetary alignment must have been extremely rare.

Which is only appropriate for home improvement day.

So, when Paul came home andseemed eager to get on with the ceiling fan installment, I stayed put. The curtains and the toilet seat were all of my doing, so I figured I'd lay low.

Paul had the electrical stuff pretty well in hand until he realized that there were four wires coming out of our ceiling where the old fan was. This is not such a big deal except that the installation booklet only mentions three.

He made a few phone calls (because, who STAYS HOME on a Friday night) and he finally found a friend who explained that the wiring was for separate switches on the light and the fan.

Paul returned to the task.

But, as it turns out, it's kinda difficult to install ceiling fans alone. And in the dark. So there was a whole lot of flashlight holding, screwdriver handing, motor supporting, and kid anesthetizing that had to be done. So, jump in I did.

Oh, for the love of all things sacred.

We got a bunch of things hooked up and what not. Unscrewed a previously screwed on component so as to shove the wires back into the ceiling. Answered a few questions for Lainee about the location of our attic. There was an extra screw that we couldn't figure out what to do with. Somewhere along the way we got all the wirey stuff covered up. We had just attached all the blades to the fan.

Then, we spun the blades. The sound that emerged was the sound of something rubbing against another something deep within the now screwed down and bolted shut interior of the fan. And I just looked at Paul - this sweet man who tries to please me by installing things like ceiling fans.

And I said to him: What do we do now? He sorta shrugged. And then I looked at him. T hen I said: What was that?

Have I ever mentioned that we have three kids?

And that I was doing housework all day?

Handwashing dishes.

That dish water? That DIRTY dishwater that was in the sink? I HEARD it DOING something.

And when I arrived breathless in the kitchen, I found that what it was doing was loading itself into cups so graciously held by Ms. Bao and Mr. Bug, and dumping itself all over the kitchen floor.

They thought this was HI. LAR. I. OUS.

Me?

Not so much.

I seethed some lovely sentiments, particularly to the beloved Ms. Bao, who had done this same thing TWICE earlier in the day with water from the toilet. But she was covered in dishwater, so I had to put her in the tub.

While in the bathroom, I asked the naked Bao to put her clothes in the dirty clothes bin located two steps outside of the bathroom door. While I tended to Mr. Bug, Ms. Bao walked the two steps outside the bathroom, passed the laundry bin, the washer, the dryer, the pantry cabinet, and the kitchen table.

And I was oblivious to it all until I heard her smack the kitchen floor. The same floor that was covered in water that I had yet to mop up.

I found her flailing around in the huge puddle. I grabbed her up and put her and Bug in the bathtub.

During that time that I was patiently tending to my precious cherubs, Paul managed to fix that little problem of rubbing somethings within the fan (see? better if I JUST STAY AWAY...)

Meanwhile:
- kids in tub
- me not tending them (Mother of the year) so that I can mop up the kitchen floor (because I apparently didn't do enough cleaning today)

In my disgust, I shove the kitchen chair that is in the middle of this puddle over to the side of the room. On it's way, the chair juuuust clips the corner of my countertop.

And chips a piece off. I am certain this happened because no home improvement adventure at our house would be complete without resorting, at some point, to the use of super glue.

Once the chip is glued back in place, I go check with Paul who reports that, after turning the power back on in the room, the fan does not work.

We hang it up. Get the kids dressed. Done for the night.

Until Paul figured out that if you just pull that little chain thing that is attached to the fan, it will actually start turning.

So we forge ahead with the process of attaching the lighting component. Which WILL NOT LINE UP with the screw holes we are supposed to be using.

That was another twenty minutes.

We're not convinced that the light fixture is adequately secured to the fan. But, this is just the fan over our bed, so, fortunately, should the light actually fall off of the ceiling, we'll at least have the pleasure of dying in our sleep.

We attached the glass light fixtures and put in the light bulbs. When we turned the power on again, we saw that only two of the four bulbs were working. Paul and I exchanged looks, but it only took me a moment to try that OTHER chain that was hanging from the fan. (I may be some dumb but I ain't plumb dumb.) Turns out that other chain makes ALL FOUR lights turn on if you want to make the room, you know, bright.

And there you have it. A fan. Installed. And, at last check, still attached to the ceiling.

But you realize we're not done. We did, after all, buy TWO fans.

Carnival o' Chocolate

No fancy buttons. No Mr. Linkies.

It's just a little idea sparked by this post of Addie's.

I'm just curious how many people have a picture of their baby covered in chocolate.... If you have one you are willing to post, please do so. I'd love to see.

Leave a comment with the link to your post (not your blog) and we can all have a little fun. Your post doesn't even have to link back to me unless you want to.

Here's my baby:

The Boy

Character issues abound when you have three little ones in the house. Kindness. Selflessness. Trustworthiness. Politeness.

There is always something, and sometimes it wears on me.

Wears on me because it seems constant. If one isn't grabbing a toy out of someone else's hand, then the other is trying to cajole the third into hitting someone with a wooden spoon.

Wears on me because talking it out requires time. And patience. I suppose I have time - as long as no one minds if dinner is late. And I know I HAVE patience. It's just that using it isn't the most self-satisfying response I can think of.

(Character issues of my own, you ask? Indeed!)

So I have been growing tired of addressing character lately. I suppose God knew this, because he sent me a little boy. Well, not SO little. More like about-to-turn-four little. And, sometimes, that boy does things that give me hope that, when it comes to character, all is not lost.

This is the boy who, though far too fascinated with breaking things for his mother's liking, is just happy to be alive. Laid back. Sensitive in a sweet, almost-four-years-old kind of way.

He asked for a snack yesterday right before lunch. I responded by asking him if he could just wait til lunch before he ate anything. This day, instead of asking me to change my mind, or whining about how hungry he was, he simply said, "That's a great idea, mom!"

Why, thank you for saying so, son. It was a little boost for me; a welcome reprieve.

My sweet boy did it again tonight as we read "The Giving Tree" before bed. The story is new to him, so I knew to watch his face as I read. Whenever he hears a story for the first time, every emotion he experiences is displayed plainly in his face.

We got to the part where "the tree was happy. But not really" and Jonathan just about bust out crying.

Oblivious to the fact that I already knew, he drew close to me and said, "this story makes me want to cry."

We talked about that story and about what it means to be a good friend. I explained to him that stories like that make us sad because we know that someone else felt hurt. Then I told him that a good friend remembers to be kind so that others won't feel hurt.

Then I gave him an example. A real life example that happened just this week.

He and Ms. Boo marched into the kitchen just as I was making out my grocery list. Cake mix was on sale and two birthdays are coming up, so I asked him what kind of cake he wanted for his birthday. (He loves chocolate, but I didn't want to assume.)

"Chocolate," he replied - as expected.

But no sooner had the word come out of his mouth than Boo chimed in with, "Yuck!" (Not a fan of the chocolate cake, she.)

Without a moment's hesitation, Bug declared, "I want white cake mom!"

"Do you, really want white cake?" I asked. "You can have whatever kind you want."

"I want white cake. That way Boo can have some too!"

After praising him for his very selfless decision, he (and I am not kidding you) walked around singing, "I love white cake. It's so good. I love white cake..."

When I reminded him of that story tonight, I told him that I knew he did it because he didn't want Boo to feel bad, and that that's how good friends act toward each other.

He turned to me, with a look of despair and said, "but what kind of icing will we have?"

"Chocolate," I replied.

"But Boo can't have that! We can't have chocolate icing!"

I assured the boy that Boo does, indeed, like chocolate icing, and all was right with his world.

I can't stand it. That child is too sweet.

I am grateful for his little reminders to me that my children's character is not a lost cause.

Thank God for little boys.

But Let's Not Get Catty About it.

For the second time in as many days, Mr. Bug has taken on the identity of a cat.

Today he came to me with a ball of yarn and asked me to wave it around in front of him so he could bat at it.

That's fine. I humored him.

But yesterday, the cattiness began just as he finished a bowl of apple sauce at the kitchen table. At just about that time, Bao spotted a card with a cat on it and, pointing to it, proudly proclaimed, "caaaaaaaat!"

This must've sparked something in the boy's imagination. He loves to entertain her, after all. So, he got himself on the floor and started meowing at her feet.

Bao enjoyed this immensely, so I let it go on for a little while. But I had to resume my mothering duties at some point, so, when enough time had passed for an adult to tire of the all the meowing, I gave Bao a job. (That's what mothers do, right?)

Here is how the conversation went:
Me: Jonathan, put your bowl and spoon in the sink, please.
Bug: MeOOOOW!
Me: (Pause a few moments. Let them have their fun for a few more seconds.) Mr. Bug, put your bowl and spoon in the sink.
Bug: MeOOOOOOOOOOW!

Then, in a classic display of my passive aggressiveness, I turned to Paul and said, "Dad, would you please tell your pet cat that if he doesn't put his bowl and spoon in the sink he is going to have a spanked bottom."

Mr. Bug stood up, placing his hands over his bottom. "Cats don't have bottoms," he said.

"Oh, yes they do," I retorted.

He looked at me a moment then made his way toward the table and, just as he was about to grab his bowl and spoon, he stopped.

"MOM! Cats don't know how to hold a bowl!"

Have I ever mentioned that I am not such a big fan of cats?

Remind me, again, what planet I'm on...

So, today was one of "those" days. I will not go into all of the details.

But I will share with you this conversation that took place between me and Mr. Bug:

Me: Son, why do you have wet washcloths on your head?

Bug: We're having a wedding, mom.


I have no words. None.

Getting Dressed: A Mother's Perspective

"Mom! It snowed. Can I got outside?"

"Yes, Boo. Let's get the winter clothes out. Bug, do you want to go out too?"

"Yeah."

Lug four storage boxes out of a closet, because, of course, the winter clothes are on the bottom. Rummaging. Rummaging.

Huh? I thought we had a pair of size three snow pants. Where could they be? Garage, maybe?

"Mom, where are MY snow pants?"

"I don't know Boo. Where did we put the ones you wore last year. That's all we have right now."

"I don't know where they are, mom."

Run to garage.

Rummaging, rummaging.

Okay, here are Boo's old pants. But where are those size threes? What in the world did Boo wear when she was three, and what did I do with them? Never mind. I guess these fleece-lined overalls will work.

Boots. We need boots.

Back to closet.

Rummage some more.

Oh, here are some snow pants that'll fit Bao. Bug can wear these boots. Don't we have size five snow boots for Bao? What it in the world did Boo wear when she was in fives and what did I do with them?

Back to garage.

No size five boots here. Wouldn't Bug have worn those last year? Could they be in the pile I stored under the crib? It would be just like you not to clear out the stuff under the crib for an entire year...

Back to the bedroom to look under the crib.

No, not here.

Over to closet again.

"Bug, put your shirt on."

I guess these size sevens will have to do for now.

"Where are MY boots mom?"

"We don't have boots for you yet, Boo."

She always gets snow boots for Christmas. Why does it have to snow before Christmas?

"Can I just wear my sneakers then?"

"Yeah, I guess that will have to do."

Get snow pants, coat, and hat on Boo. Direct her to get her mittens out of the bag by the front door.

Go to hall closet to look for the rest of the mittens and hats.

How did all these winter things end up all over the floor of the closet? Now I can't find that other white glove. I TOLD those kids not to play with this stuff! And what is the DEAL with all these useless scarves that are 2 inches wide? I need to get these out of here.

"Bug, put your SHIRT on!"

Back to closet to store useless scarves.

Man, those white gloves were the warmest ones I had for Bao. I guess the pink ones will do.

"BUUUUG! PUT YOUR SHIRT ON!"

Get Bug dressed. Beginning with the shirt.

"Mom, I want a scarf."

Back to closet. Pick out scarf. Wrap up Bug, send him outside to join Boo. Dress Bao in too big boots and not warm enough mittens. Send her outside.

Run to laundry area to find clothes for self.

How, how, HOW is it possible that the underwire has broken in EVERY SINGLE bra that I own? Stupid bra manufacturers. Why is it so hard to find a decent bra without the undewire, anyway? Stupid underwires.

Put wash in the dryer.

Dress self.

Grab camera.

Go outside and take whatever pictures are left on the camera. Run back inside to get Bao's earmuffs, and my own.

Walk Bao around the yard a while. Look around.

"Where is Bug?"

"He went in the house, mom."

Yes. Yes, of course.

Take Bao inside.

"Mom!"

"What, Bug?"

"It's COLD out there!"

Oh, really? I hadn't noticed.

Actual Conversation with my Son

Bug: Mom, I have a song about numbers and letters.
Me: Yeah? Let's hear it.
Bug: (Singing) Numbers, letters. Numbers, letters. Nuuumberrrrrs. Letters.

OOOh, Baby, Baby...

Ms. Bao was tagged to do a meme by Baby Spice. So, without further ado, I will turn over the keyboard to my daughter. Here is her very first meme.

3 Things that scare me:
1. Loud noises that are close by.
2. When I get too close to a live animal.
3. When it looks like mom or dad is leaving me.

3 People who make me laugh:
1. My big brother.
2. My big sister.
3. My dad.

3 Things I love:

1. My white snuggler.
2. My green snuggler.
3. My purple snuggler.

3 Things I hate:
1. Getting my teeth brushed.
2. Getting my hair cut.
3. Getting smothered by my big sister when she is trying to "hug" me.

3 Things don't understand:
1. Those white things that hold the cabinets closed.
2. Sharing.
3. That whole thing about turning the pages in a book in a certain order.

3 Things on my floor:
1. One of my snugglers.
2. My sippy cup.
3. My favorite book with the farm animals.

3 Things I am doing right now:
1. Recovering from the trauma my mother just inflicted upon me. She calls it getting my hair cut. I call it cruelTY
2. HITTING THE "CAPS LOCK" KEY.
3. DRINKING MY MILK BEFORE BED.

3 Things I want to do before I die:
1. Die? What is that?
2. Figure out those white things on the cabinets.
3. Climb onto the couch by myself.

3 Things I can do:
1. Wave goodbye.
2. Sign the words "more," "please," and "thank you."
3. Say "yes," and "no."

3 Ways to describe my personality:
1. I know what I like and what I don't.
2. I will let you know what I like and what I don't.
3. I am becoming more and more playful with each passing day.

3 Things I cannot do:
1. Hear music without swaying back and forth.
2. Eat without throwing something on the floor.
3. Solve differential equations.

3 Things I think you should listen to:
1. My mom. She is all about that. And she will make you look RIGHT at her if you don't.
2. That tune from "Big Comfy Couch." I like that one. Very catchy.
3. Me, when I am singing. I'm pretty good.

3 Things I don't think you should listen to:
1. My sister. I sure don't.
2. People who get all up in your face when you want to be left alone.
3. Metallica.

3 Favorite foods:
1. Suckers.
2. Ice cream.
3. Cheese.

3 Beverages I drink regularly:
1. Milk.
2. Water.
3. I didn't know there were any others.

3 Shows I watch:
1. When mom and dad get it from the library, I watch that Bear in the Big Blue House show all the time. I LOVE IT! I wonder why they haven't gotten that one lately?
2. Big Comfy Couch.
3. Big, Big World.
(I guess I like "Big" Things, eh?)

Thank you for reading.

Speaking Scripture

Not too long ago, I was convicted that I needed to start incorporating Scripture into my children's day more fully. I had been using a few scriptures when I was correcting them, but that was it. It became obvious to me how damaging that could be for them as they begin to build their understanding of God. Do I want them to form the perception that God only cares about them acting this way or that way, without teaching them about how deeply he loves and cares for them? (Obvious answer alert) No.

These thoughts were affirmed this week during a meeting for the "nursery" workers at church. We were reminded of this passage from Deuteronomy 11:

18 Fix these words of mine in your hearts and minds; tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. 19 Teach them to your children, talking about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. 20 Write them on the doorframes of your houses and on your gates, 21 so that your days and the days of your children may be many in the land that the LORD swore to give your forefathers, as many as the days that the heavens are above the earth.

I realized how little I speak Scripture to my children. And I realize that part of the reason I don't is because I don't have my own heart and mind fixed on it. I don't "know it."

My children do a program at church, part of which focuses on scripture memorization. And I think this is great. But, I don't "push" them to memorize these scriptures. Why? Because I don't want to burn them out trying to remember things that don't have real meaning to them. What I DO want, is to use scripture that is applicable in their daily lives and work on remembering those. I think this will, for now, serve them better than memorizing something they don't really relate to. (Don't get all hyper on me. I am not denying there is a need to teach about things that they may not necessarily be experiencing right now. But I think you all know what I mean.)

But, to do this, I need to actually know some scripture that I can call upon from MY OWN memory, whenever they experience different things. In other words, I need to make like a Girl Scout and - be prepared.

So, here is a list that I am developing for myself to work on. A list of scriptures that I can speak to my children whenever the need arises or the opportunity presents itself.

Psalm 118: 6 - The LORD is with me; I will not be afraid. What can man do to me?

James 5:13 - Is any one of you in trouble? He should pray. Is anyone happy? Let him sing songs of praise.

Ephesians 6:1-3 - Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right. "Honor your father and mother" - which is the first commandment with a promise - "that it may go well with you and that you may enjoy long life on the earth."

Philippians 2:14-15a - Do everything without complaining or arguing, so that you may become blameless and pure

Proverbs 22:9 - A generous man will himself be blessed, for he shares his food with the poor.

1 Peter 5:7 - Cast all your anxiety on God because he cares for you.

Psalm 48:14 - God is our God for ever and ever; He will be our guide even to the end.

Hosea 14:9 - The ways of the Lord are right; the righteous walk in them.

2 Chronicles 20:20 - Have faith in the Lord your God and you will be upheld.

Colossians 3:13 - Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord orgave you.

Proverbs 17:17 - A friend loves at all times.

Psalm 32:8 - "I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go," says the Lord.

Ephesians 2:10 - We are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.

Isaiah 57:2 - Those who walk uprightly enter into peace.

Zephaniah 3:17 - The LORD your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing.

Psalm 119:2 - Blessed are they who keep God's statutes and seek him with all their heart.

Proverbs 19:16 - He who obeys instruction guards his life.

John 3:36 - Whoever believes in the Son has eternal life.

Proverbs 14:23 - All hard work brings a profit.

John 15:10 - If you obey my commands, you will remain in my love, just as I have obeyed my Fathers' commands and remain in his love.

These are just a few that I picked out because, if they weren't simple enough for my young children to understand, I thought I would be able to easily explain them. There are so many, really, I think this list could go on forever. (There are one or two I wanted to add, but they escaped my brain as I was writing...)

I'm wondering what scriptures you all like to speak to your children.

Kids

We are working on sight words with Ms. Boo and, for some odd reason, she is confusing "is" and "the."

We have looked at flashcards. We have written the words in the sand box. I have broken down the sounds of the words with her. Nothing has worked.

So, yesterday, I pulled out the big guns. But, she didn't act as interested in my method as I had hoped. I wasn't sure if it worked.

Until this afternoon, when she said, "Mom, I want to practice my cheer."

After a few (read, approximately a minute worth) warm-up jumps, and several tight-lipped pauses to fix her hair, she finally began chanting: T - H -E, that's how we... spell THE. She even got the claps and the arm pumps right.

You GO, girl!
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In preparing Mr. Bug for his upcoming nap, I sent him back outside to play with these words: "Bug, what are you going to tell me when I tell you it is nap time."

His answer:

"Yes. Or no."

Being Present

Processing. Processing.

So far, here are my thoughts about what it means to be "present," with regard to my kids.

- Hearing what they say the first time they say it. Paying attention when they speak and responding promptly.

- Letting Boo push the cart at the grocery store even though she is in my way. Not complaining about it. Not getting exasperated and communicating to her that being near her is annoying or unenjoyable.

- Saying "yes" when Bug asks me to play baseball with him... even though Bao won't let me put her down without screaming. Finding a way to play with him and encourage him as he plays.

- Being silly with them.

- Playing along when Boo asks me to babysit her doll.

- Overall, communicating by my words and actions that what is important to them, is important to me, even if it ISN'T important to me. And I know you know what I mean.

- If they ask, letting them help me. Finding a way for them to help with cooking (this one will be hard for me, people) or my cleaning, or gardening. Letting them come with me when I have to run an errand.

These are my initial thoughts. And I don't expect to do these things all the time, every time. These are just things that I am not so hot at right now, but I am trying to improve.

Is this resonating with anyone else? I want to hear what other things you think might fit here. They can be things you are good at or things you want to be good at.

"Stuff"

A few weeks ago I asked Mr. Bug to pick up one of his toys that was in the middle of the kitchen floor. He didn't. Then I explained to him that if he was not willing to put his toys where they belong, I would have to throw them out.

You know what that turkey said?

"You can frow it out, mom." And then he walked away.

So, naturally, I threw it out.

But it pained me. If it was some silly McDonald's toy I wouldn't have cared. Or even if it was another one of his "stand alone" toys, I wouldn't have batted an eyelash. But this was not a stand alone. This toy was just one piece to a larger toy. And now, in my mind, that toy is forever ruined. He can never put the whole toy together again.

And I don't like this.

Lest you think this is just another one of those "weird things about me" posts, I should tell you that I had always had a reason to be picky about keeping pieces to sets. They make the toy more likely to sell at a garage sale.

And I say that I HAD a reason. Because, while it may be true that "complete" toys will sell at a garage sale, I have made up my mind that we won't be selling much of our stuff anymore. At least never enough to make an entire garage sale. The reasoning is simple: almost all of the stuff we have has been given to us. 95% of the kids' toys and probably a greater percentage of their clothes have been given to us. Something just doesn't feel right to me about selling stuff that was given to us. So, if we are going to get rid of it, we are going to give it to someone else.

And the only reason I mention this is to say that I no longer have my standard reason for wanting to keep toy sets intact. So why did it bother me so much to throw out that toy?

Well, I didn't think much about it until yesterday when my kids went to a birthday party where there was a pinata. The last time I was at a party with Ms. Boo where there was a pinata, I had to push her into the swarming mass of kids to try and get her to put some candy in her bag. She was kind of timid.

I figured the same thing would happen again. But, I was tending to Bao, so I was not able to give her any gentle shoves.

As it turns out, Boo has wised up quite a bit since I last saw her collect pinata treats.

She came back with a favor bag FULL of candy. "Look mom! Look at all the candy I got."

And my only thought was we'll just add that to all the Easter candy...

Then, Bug came bounding up, with the same joyful expression and thrust his bag into my hands. With that high-pitched voice he reserves for moments of sheer excitement, he said, "look what I got mom!"

I looked in the bag to find a whopping three pieces of candy.

I gave Bug the same expressions of excitement that I gave to Boo. But inside, my heart felt sad. Why?

He was the littlest one there. Could it be he got pushed around a little? Then again, he is sort of in his own world most of the time, maybe he just didn't get clued in fast enough. Either way, I felt so sad. Sad that my son didn't get more stuff.

Though I have seen the opposite to be true in my own life, I think that when it comes to my kids, I have bought into the lie that they won't be happy unless they have enough stuff. And when it comes to that toy - he would never remember the toy again if it had been a "stand alone" toy. But somehow I am believing that he will be so disappointed the next time he wants to put that whole toy together, only to realize that he can't. I think this is one of the things that makes me want to hold on to stupid stuff.

The interesting thing is, Bug was playing with that toy the other day and didn't seem to notice that a piece was missing. And you know what? He didn't know any better that he did not have as much candy as everyone else. He was just excited to have what he got. (And Boo has been happily sharing hers.) Yet when I should have been overjoyed that he was content, I was sad for him.

And frazzled too. Because in addition to candy we had masks and blowers to bring home as favors. And I found myself almost frantic over the thought of one of them leaving without their stuff. Because I knew they'd get home and be upset if they didn't have it. But instead of helping them to develop some basic coping skills and "get over it," I would only know how to be sad for them too! So, because I can't help them deal, I make the problem worse by teaching them that they should be frantically chasing after their stuff. This way I don't have any upset kids to deal with. (Does that makes sense?)

Now, I am not a major lover of stuff in general. Clothes, shoes, home decor, TVs, stereos, cars... none of them have allured me to any great degree. But that doesn't mean that I am totally free from "stuff love." I also don't know how to teach my kids to be content with less stuff, and to hold on loosely to what they have.

Any advice out there?

Sad, but I need reminders

Last night I was up thinking about some things. Mostly the kids. What they see in my (and Paul's) life that is worth emulating. What we do that positively and negatively affects them, their growth, their understanding of God, etc.

I think, for reasons I can't yet explain, that I need to be better at being "present" when I am with my kids. I need to spend time with them even when it isn't time for them. Does that make sense? Like, I know I need to spend time playing with them and with each of them individually, but that isn't what I am talking about. I'm talking about sitting at the table with them when they are eating lunch... something I don't normally do. I need to be tuned into their questions and not have to shake myself out of my thoughts every time they ask for something (only to hear me say "what did you say?") I need to have conversation with them that doesn't involve me correcting something they are doing or speaking with a tone that makes me sound like I am constantly exasperated with them.

And part of that will mean getting over my exasperation. They want to be part of my life and part of what I am doing. But my first response to that is to be annoyed at their intrusion. Really, I should welcome them to spend time doing "my" stuff with me instead of viewing it as an intrusion. Goodness knows who they will turn to in a few more years if their mom doesn't start stepping it up in this way.

But part of this will also mean training myself to see the positives... something I am not very good at.

I have been asking God to show me which stuff really matters. I am seeing changes in my demeanor. But I still make mistakes. For example, it didn't matter that Ms. Boo was "wasting" glue this morning. She was playing. It's glue. I don't need to jump her case about it... especially since she was having fun by herself, even though she asked me if I would work on the craft WITH her.

Anyway. I don't know where this is all going. What I do know is that I am SOOO critical of my children. I have had to WORK at speaking to them like normal people, without a "tone," if you know what I mean. So, now, realizing that these things to not come to me naturally, I have also decided that I need to try to give each of them specific praise each day. Three times.

And, since I cannot be trusted to just let this happen when the mood strikes me, I have created a chart. It has all three of their names on it and three boxes under each name. I will display this chart prominently, so that I will actually remember to praise them. And then I will check off the boxes to make sure I get in three a day.

I have also hung a reminder over the sink to "Praise, Praise, Praise" and another one that says "Be present" and "involve them."

So sad that I need to do this. But I do. I hope that after a while of this, it will begin to come to me more easily, and I won't need to be reminded as much... I will just begin to see that my children have qualities that are worth praising.