Bet You Never Knew the Macedonian Call was Actually an E-mail

The phone rang around noon today and a woman from church was on the other end.

"How's it going?" she asked.

I figured it was just one of those pleasantries, so I answered "fine" and waited for her to get on with why she called.

But "how it was going" was why she called.

You see, this morning she received an e-mail. It was from my husband, who is currently on a mission trip in Macedonia. It seems he asked her if she would be able to take the kids for a little while so I could get time to study for my Chinese quiz this evening.

Why, yes indeedy.

She picked them up at 12:30 and dropped them off at 4:15. While they were gone, I studied at Panera, and even got a chance to stop in at Target and find purse (shopping? in PEACE?) to replace the one that broke last week.

So, whomever of you have been praying, I humbly thank you.

And, in case you were wondering, I won the battle of the wills last night. After a few failed attempts at putting her back down to bed, and several subsequent negotiations through the closed door, the SCREAMING child finally decided to lay quietly, and was asleep within minutes. At 11:30 pm.

Hopefully, three days in a row of night-time tantrums will be all that is required to teach her that the mama ain't kidding when she says "do not get up, and do not scream."

Hopefully.....

Single Parenting? No Thanks

Paul is gone this week.

My sister was visiting from Connecticut, but left this evening.

Dealing with the S.C.R.E.A.M.I.N.G child at bed time was easier when there was another adult in the house. It obviously helped me keep my cool, but it was also nice to just be able to walk in another room and not have someone YELLING AT ME. AND REQUIRING EVERY LAST OUNCE OF MY TIME AND ENERGY AND SOMETIMES NOT EVEN THAT IS ENOUGH.

Right now, the child is "crying it out" in the only room that she can't get herself out of... which also happens to be the bedroom the other two kids normally sleep in. The other two are in my room tonight, and the third one COULD be, if she would just STAY there. Without screaming.

They were all in the living room last night, and so SCREAMING child was also sent to the bedroom when she decided to have a fit.

And if it isn't enough that I have a screaming child on my hands, I am already wondering how, logistically, this is going to work out in the future because the other kids will, at some point, have to start sleeping in their room again.

She doesn't want me to leave her. She never had this problem until we moved her out of the crib... which was the perfect place for letting a child cry it out. Until, of course, they have such a tantrum that they actually kick one of the spindles clear out of the crib and then can crawl out of it at will. This happened one day in a non-bedtime related tantrum. And we kept using the crib, which she happily stayed in during sleeping times, but would immediately crawl out of when placed there to have out her tantrum.

And I just don't know what to do anymore. Is she upset Paul is gone? Do I just cut her some slack and sit with her until she falls asleep? Or will that just make it harder to break her of the habit in the future... when there is no place to put her from which she can't escape?

Of course this doesn't even address the part about "Hi, I have been with you nonstop ALL. DAY. LONG. And now it's eleven o'clock and I am going to need just a few minutes to myself before I go to bed or I might just lose my last shred of sanity, thank you very much."

And I'm supposed to exercise tonight too.

Which, under any other circumstance, I would welcome the reprieve from. But tonight it makes me just a wee bit angry...........................

I'm CRAAAAAAANky

This week started out fine and then took a downturn on Wednesday.

I feel completely deflated, dejected, demoralized, and any other "de" word you can think of. Except for maybe delicious. I don't feel delicious.

Mostly, I just wanted to scream, "I'm TRYING, but does anyone care about ME?"

In all honesty, PMS may have been a major player. (And getting major-er as the years go by, I might add. What is with that?)

I wonder, though, because it is just my nature to get into a funk. This is the funk where you feel like everything you have ever learned needs to be unlearned, and you have to learn something new in its place. Everything.

And every improvement you try to make is met with R-E-J-E-C-T-I-O-N. Take, for example, my attempts to get up early this week. I know that I need my time in the Word. And I am at the point where I can't stand all my stupid excuses any more. And I know that getting up before the kids to get my day started with God ALWAYS makes things go more smoothly.

So, I set my alarm for 7 am. Not that early, but earlier than Bethany, who is my earliest riser. I figured 7 was a good time because she never gets up before 7:30. On the first day that I got up, I didn't hear Bethany cry until I was on the very last verse of my reading. But it was still "too early." When I went to get her, she had a pretty bad nose bleed, and I was off and running.

That was the last time I was able to read before the kids got up. Bethany woke up at 6:40 the next morning. She sorta went back to sleep... in my bed... but it was the kind of sleep that was more like "I am ready to get up so if you move, I'm coming with you."

And the next day she was in bed with me because she would not go back to sleep in the middle of the night and I was too tired to deal with it. So, when the alarm went off, she stirred and was back in the "awake enough" mode of the day before. I tried getting out of the bed by moving my body one centimeter at a time, but the kid isn't stupid, and she was not going to let me walk out without her.

This is just one example. I feel like I try. Then I feel like, why do I try?

I'm tired of my lame attempts at living the Christian life. I am tired of my short temper. I am tired of my selfish attitude. I am tired of my poor housekeeping. I am tired of my impatient parenting.

I know all those things need to change. And I want them too. But I just can't seem to make any headway. And I think I am tired of that most of all.

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?

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 Comment:

"I am not looking for that head. If you find it, I will try to glue it back on."

Sometimes, I wonder if I am living on the same planet as the rest of the human race.

So ThaAAAt's how they get started...

I have written some posts recently about what I call "being present" with my kids throughout the day. My initial thoughts were sparked by Meagan's comment on this post over at Shalee's blog. My last post about this was just a simple list of things I do (or want to do) to improve my "presence" with my kids.

After reading it, Sarahgrace suggested that I tag some people and ask them to list their ideas for being present. I sat on the idea for a while because I thought I had to somehow qualify what being present means. I did, after all, just kind of make that up... and so who's to say that it really even means anything. (This is how I think, y'all. If I am going to ask people to make a list of things they should do with their kids, I think I should be able to defend why it's worthy of pursuing in the first place. Unfortunately, I can't. I am just too tired to think.)

So, before this topic gets too old, I will tag Sarahgrace and she can list all the things that she does or would like to do to be present with her kids. If you want to do the same, you can leave a link to your list in the comments section. Or, if you don't have a blog, you can post your list in the comments. As far as tagging other people, that is completely up to you.

I love some of the ideas that have been left already. Mary suggests listening to our kids with "smiling eyes." Robin comments about putting down the phone. Go crazy, ladies. Maybe someone could even DEFINE what being present means. Or find some scripture that applies. I look forward to hearing your thoughts.

(And now, I know how these things get started.)

My apologies to those who subscribe to the feed. I am having trouble getting these links to work.

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.

Dumped

The count from this past week includes:

- one jar of cinnamon
- one cup of chocolate milk
- one cup of regular milk
- a half gallon of milk that never made it into any cup
- several cups of orange juice
- an entire bottle of dish soap
- an entire container of grated parmesan cheese
- several bowls of Kix (sans milk, thank goodness)
- about 1/4 of a bottle of glass cleaner
- a bag of pool filter sand, which is hilarious, because we don't have a pool
- mud, on Bethany's walker... and face... thank you very much
- about 2/3 of a bottle of Bath and Body hand sanitizer
- unknown amount of cotton balls... down the toilet
- water, from an overflowing toilet
- an unknown amount of toothpaste, which my son admitted to during prayer, but which he apparently cleaned up, because I never saw it.

AND my bottle of Calgon!

Here is a photo from this week's escapades. Looks appetizing, doesn't it?


Also dumped this week: the contents of two kids' piggy banks - to pay for the replacement of the items they'd wasted.

Life

has been busy. Fine. Happy. Frustrating. Very much like... life, I suppose.

March is here, so winter, in my book is over. Even if it snows again. It's March. And I don't care about the rest. I feel like I made it through the winter!

Bible study began today. Beth Moore's Breaking Free is the one we are doing. I need this. I need Bible study. I need to "break free," I need that time with the ladies. I feel like there are new beginnings and a few things to be excited about. Yay!

We got our portraits today. Family. Mr. Bug. Ms. Bao. Have put them all in frames. The boy is too ridiculously cute. Bao's came out good. The pictures are totally her. The exact same look that she has in her referral photos. So, I like them because it's her personality... her pensive personality. But, I do wish we could have gotten her to smile. She does that too, and it is SO cute!

I have mentioned previously that I have been wondering about Bao's attachment. She's only been home for 4 1/2 months, so certainly I don't expect her to be totally there yet. But there are a few little things I am honing in on and will watch for a while to see if they improve over time. If they don't in the next two months or so, we have the name of an adoption counselor we can contact. We'll see how it goes.

People tell me to trust my "instinct." I do, in a lot of cases. But sometimes it seems like "instinct" isn't really the safest answer when it comes to a child who has spent the better part of her life without developing the "natural" kind of relationship that a kid should with her parent. There are things going on with her that I don't think my instinct always has a good answer for.

The best I can describe it is to say that Bao definitely likes me, but in some ways I sometimes feel like I am just the "fun lady" in her life. She doesn't rely on me for comfort to any great degree (though this has been improving, s-L-----OOOOOOO---W---l---y. So, still watching that.) She relies a lot on her snuggler, which is like a little blankie. It is to her what a pacifier is to other kids. She turns it until she finds a corner and sucks on it! She doesn't snuggle me unless the snuggler is there. (Just her personality? I don't know...)

Anyway, I have been ramping up the closeness with Bao: lots of gentle touches and as much snuggling as she'll allow. Also re-evaluating how much we leave her with other people.

So, last night when I came home from church (only Bao was with me) I decided to do something that I had done with Bug many, many times on the evenings I came home from church with him. Granted, he was a SNUGGLER, so that made it easier... but I decided I was going to institute some of my own therapy for Bao. So, we took a night time walk around the neighborhood.

I got her all dressed up and brought a blanket with us (and her snuggler, of course...) It was such a beautiful night. And we walked together. Sometimes she snuggled me. Sometimes she looked around. I whispered in her ear and sang to her.

When we got to a corner with a street light, I stopped. In the interests of keeping up my "therapy" status, I decided that I was going to try to get her to make eye contact with me. I wanted to tell her that I loved her while she was looking at me.

So, I stood there for what seemed like eternity, gently calling her name, craning my neck to get a look in her eyes. She would not, WOULD NOT, look at me. I said her name 30 times, easily. I just kept waiting. She turned away to the left. She turned away to the right. She wouldn't look, and I started wondering how long I was going to keep trying.

I kept waiting patiently a few moments before I called her name again, and at one point, I decided to pass the time by giving her a butterfly kiss (she likes those.) It made her look. She looked right at my eyes. Granted, it was because she wanted to poke it, but she looked. So, I told her "I love you," and we were able to get on with our walk.

On the way back home, she snuggled into my shoulder and started making little noises.

"ah," she'd say, and I would mimic.

"uh," she'd say, and I would mimic.

"na," she'd say, and I would mimic.

All the while, she had her hands (mostly) around my shoulders, which is the closest thing to a hug that she does... and not very often.

So, we enjoyed our little conversation game, and I especially enjoyed the snuggle time she let me sneak in, albeit short.

Good times. Good times.

Though she has been quite clingy and whiney today, I have told myself to enjoy the time with her. So, we were hanging out on the floor in the family room today, when she made my day. She was laying on the floor rolling around when all of a sudden... I looked at her and out of nowhere, she has one knee in crawling position (she has never ONCE put her legs in crawling position) and the other foot on the floor such that her calf was perpendicular to it (the floor.) She pushed her arms back and presto... she was sitting up. Boo was there to witness it and we both cheered and made a big fuss. The kid sat herself up. SHE SAT HERSELF UP! Then, just to show us that it was no accident, she did it two more times, and AGAIN tonight IN FRONT OF THE VIDEO CAMERA!

Aye, carumba. THAT'S MY GIRL! She may not snuggle... and hey, she may not even LIKE me,* but THAT'S MY GIRL!

* joke.

I cheated

The following is an exerpt from the "Chutes and Ladders" Rules:

Winning the Game
The first player to reach the Blue Ribbon Square #100 wins the game. You can get there 2 ways:
1. Land there by exact count. If your spin would take you past square #100, don't move. Try again on your next turn...

Ms. Boo and I were playing yesterday. I think Chutes and Ladders should be renamed "The Game that Never Ends." I went down two separate chutes, at least three times each.

Boo went down several herself.

Of course she got upset when I got to go up the biggest ladder. Because then I was winning. Not long after, I went down the longest chute too.

We traded places several times. I was ahead, but then I'd get sent down a chute. So she was ahead, until she went down another chute. The game went on and on and on.

Then Boo said she wanted to stop playing. Normally, this would have made me say, "No problem" and fold up the board immediately. But I could tell she wanted to quit because I was ahead, and she is a pretty poor sport about that kind of thing. So, in the interest of teaching her a valuable lesson about sportsmanship, I refused to quit.

And the suffering continued. Up a ladder, then down a chute twice as long.

Until I finally made it to square #96. I spun a "5."

Then I promptly counted out five spaces, ending my turn on an imaginary space in the margin of the game board.

"Oh, look, Boo," I said. "Mommy won."

Anyone familiar with Chutes and Ladders knows that there are pictures depicting children doing good deeds at every ladder, and naughty deeds at every chute. The directions proclaim "Climb up with a good deed" and "naughty deeds slide you back."

Well, there is no chute on the game board for cheating.

But don't worry. My punishment came in the form of a very whiney child who kept saying, "I NEVER get to win this game!" as she tossed game pieces angrily around the board.

Aye, aye, aye.

Is there a chute for throwing out your kids' toys when they aren't looking?

Por Que No Post-os?

I haven't been posting much. There have been a bunch of changes going on in my life and in my home. Good changes. And I am focusing on them. So, I don't post as much. There is still lots of stuff rattling around, it will just take a while before it all gets out on this blog... can you stand the suspense?

Here is one thing that has been on my mind as well as part of the changes I referred to. It is a portion of Luke 6 that we discussed in Sunday school a few weeks ago. Jesus said:

27"But I tell you who hear me: Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, 28bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you. 29If someone strikes you on one cheek, turn to him the other also. If someone takes your cloak, do not stop him from taking your tunic. 30Give to everyone who asks you, and if anyone takes what belongs to you, do not demand it back. 31Do to others as you would have them do to you.
32"If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? Even 'sinners' love those who love them. 33And if you do good to those who are good to you, what credit is that to you? Even 'sinners' do that. 34And if you lend to those from whom you expect repayment, what credit is that to you? Even 'sinners' lend to 'sinners,' expecting to be repaid in full. 35But love your enemies, do good to them, and lend to them without expecting to get anything back. Then your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High, because he is kind to the ungrateful and wicked. 36Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.


One, of many, things that this passage made think about was how I spend time with my kids. When they ask for my time, so I shoo them off, or do I offer even more of myself than they asked for?

So, I gotta get. Someone is yelling "MOOOOOOoooooooom" right now.

Torn

Siiigh.

Well, this whole adoptive mom thing is way new to me. I think I'd feel quite capable with a new child right now if it were not for the fact that she is adopted. Here is what I mean...

I think ten months of age is well old enough to let a child "cry it out" in certain circumstances. One of those circumstances would be taking naps/going to bed at night. Babies at ten months can be left for those 10 minutes or so to figure out how to calm themselves and it won't wound them emotionally or confuse them.

But in all of the attachment information I have read, all the experts say not to let adopted children cry it out. They say that, in order for healthy attachments to form, the child needs to know that their parent will answer their cries (read: meet their needs) and therefore should be tended to when they cry.

So I have been tending to Ms. Bao. I have been tending to squirming, pushing, arched-back, screaming Bao when she does her little "I'm fighting sleep when I need it the most" routine. And it gets us nowhere. She doesn't sleep. Then she is crankier than ever for the rest of the day.

So after feeding her today and putting her down for a much needed nap, she began to cry. Again. And Paul said, "just let her cry." And I brought up the attachment stuff. And he said, "I think she'll be okay."

I went outside to rake leaves, because I can't stand to hear it. Paul, who has a much greater tolerance for the incessant crying of children, stayed in the house.

Apparantly, Bao fell asleep.

This is good. But I still feel confused about knowing when to transition into "normal" mode with her, and let her do things like cry it out. How do I know she is attached enough to do that? Or to leave her with a babysitter? Or to let her stay in the nursery at church?

How do I know these things? I don't suppose there are any adoptive moms out there who are reading this and wish to offer any advice...

I am getting tired of second-guessing.

Mother of Three

This post will contain a bit about Ms. Bao, for those of you who were wondering about her status. But really it is about me. This time of the night is just about the only time I get to myself each day, and really, the last thing I want to do is spend it rehashing all of my kids needs for everyone.

I am growing tired of being a need-meeter right now. It's the stage I'm in, and it's okay, but I am so tired. I feel a little like "me" is lost somewhere, and I don't exactly have time, energy, or ability to find her. Too many people around me have needs that they rely on me to meet.

Bao is doing great. Today she accomplished something that she has never done before... she fed herself a cracker. From the very beginning, I found it interesting that she put nothing in her mouth except for her hand, on occasion. Most babies her age won't keep anything out of their mouths! I wondered if maybe she had been trained not to put toys, etc in her mouth. No big deal, but still interesting.

One of the results of that, however, is that whenever we handed her food, she just played with it. I bought her a box of biter biscuits while we were in China, then I thought that was dumb, she'll never put them in her mouth! But, today, she finally got it with a cracker. She hasn't mastered the skill of picking up small objects between her thumb and forefinger, but she is getting better. I think once she has that down, she will be well on her way to feeding herself Cheerios and such. Go, Bao!

As you might imagine, having a nine month old who can't feed herself anything means that "meals" take a while. She can't roll over either. So whenever she tips too far from her seated position, she needs someone to come rescue her. And it isn't like I am really far away because she isn't so into letting me be in another room. That's fine, and even expected. But I feel a little too attached. And I mean that in the physical sense.

Ms. Bao also still needs to be entertained. Since she can't move herself, she needs to be moved into a new position when she gets bored with her present one. And she needs someone to fetch toys that she wants but can't get to. And she will whine until you do. The problem with her whine is that is doesn't sound much different from her happy noises, so you have to actually look at her face to determine her mood. (The added problem for me is that she ALWAYS sounds like she is whining, even when she isn't!)

The amount of time that I spend tending to Bao is not really meeting with a lot of approval from Boo and Bug. Add to this that Boo spent the day telling me she felt like she was going to throw up. (She never did throw up, but she voluntarily took a nap, and ate hardly anything. These are pretty good signs she is sick... and her 101.9 fever tonight confirmed it.) I think Bao might also be getting sick. Her temp was slightly elevated before bed tonight. So, basically, there are a lot of needy kids hanging around.

Today when Paul came home, I was a zombie. Bug had been up since 6:20 and I had not a single break all day.

And I keep wondering when I am going to get the grocery shopping done. Halloween last night, Paul had a meeting at church tonight. Wednesday evening services, Thursday is parent teacher conferences for Paul. Forget about getting out of the house for a break, I gotta go extra crazy just so I can - what? - make sure that my family has food to eat.

I don't know how I am supposed to do all of this. And sometimes I wish there was another mortal who would make a priority of meeting my needs. But, alas, I think I am that person. So, when Paul came home today, he took the kids for a walk. As he was leaving, he asked if I could make a phone call to MCI to straighten out a bill.

Already on my way to the bedroom, I said "no" and got right in my bed.

And that's where I am headed now.

Parental Rite of Passage

Tonight, for the very first time, I took one of my kids to the emergency room. I don't think Mr. Bug has ever believed me when I've told him that someone could get hurt when he throws things. I think he believes me now.

It was a rock. And it met up with Ms. Boo's head.

She needed 4 stitches. And she is doing fine. She wasn't in much pain after the initial swelling seemed to subside. And she acted completely normal for the 3 1/2 hours that we waited to see the doctor. She colored, played with some toys from the closet in the hall (which was well-stocked, being that this was a children's hospital,) played connect 4 with me, and chatted. The admitting nurse gave her some stickers, one of which depicted a little girl, that looked kinda like Boo, listening to some headphones. In big, bold letters next to the girl was the word "ROCK." We got a chuckle out of that.

The doctor was able to use topical anesthesia, so she didn't need to get a shot. Once she got used to the idea of someone sewing her head, she laid there just fine and it was over lickety split.

They gave her a popsicle before she went home, and now she is sleeping with her little Tazmanian Devil bandaid covering her wound. Could it get any better?

The Lord is good to me

Wednesday nights are a fun time for me. After the service at church, Ms. Boo stays in the nursery while Paul is at choir practice. She loves the nursery, Paul loves the choir, and I love my alone time with Mr. Bug.

Tonight we went to the local donut shop/dairy bar. Mr. Bug and I sat at the counter, eating donuts and having a grand old time. He was just so happy to eat a donut and drink water from a cup with a straw. He has been doing this thing lately when he eats... he takes a really fast bite of food while making a groaning noise. Like he is devouring it. It is seriously cute. Watching him eat his donut was a treat.

The added treat was that they guy behind the counter put an extra donut in the bag and didn't charge me for it!!!

After we were done eating, Bug was content just to walk around. I got him a little stuffed animal out of the vending machine. It was a hot-pink bunny. We kept ourselves amused with that thing for quite a while. He even made a snoring noise when I told him the bunny was sleeping.

Every so often I am reminded that life will not always be happy for my children. So, I just enjoyed the time tonight, watching my son be happy. I think I could've stayed there all night.

And, thank you, Lord, for this beautiful boy you have given me!

Beyond my comprehension

Sometimes I look at Mr. Bug and I think I am going to burst. He is absolutely the most precious boy I have ever seen. Whenever I am holding him, I just kiss him like crazy. Looking at him, as he walks around the kitchen, or splashes in the tub, I feel like I am going to overflow. If I tried forever, I don't think I could fully express the love I have for this boy.

Ms. Boo is my love... and often my laughter. We have a little personal joke between us, and it is the height of my day to giggle about it with her. I am fascinated with her abilities and watching her grow. She is, as her middle name predicted, a Joy.

There have been times, late at night, or during a particularly emotional season of life, when I have wondered "what if?" And there have been a few scenarios. One that I have thought of more than once is, what if there is a tornado? How would I protect my babies. Would I be able to shield them, or hold them tight enough to keep them from danger? I have another "what if" which is totally irrational, about being in the car with them as it sinks in a body of water. Who would I unbuckle first? Would I be able to swim with both of them?

Now, before you call me crazy, I just want to tell you that these are not things that I think about often or dwell on when I do. And I might dare to guess that every mom has had some kind of thought at one time or another. What I do know is that I don't think about these things very long, because even the THOUGHT of living without one of them, and wondering if I could've saved them, is much too heavy to take on for any length of time.

I have been reading a bit about what is going on in Sudan lately. (If this seems like a terrible transition, it will make sense soon enough.) To say the least, it is devastating. But, when I hear stories like this one, I am reduced to tears immediately... because that is one kind of pain that I never want to experience. I imagine myself asleep one night (or up blogging, if this is to be realistic) and being startled by the sound of someone breaking down my door, raiding my home, burning my house. People screaming and running everywhere. Complete fear. What would I do? Run? Try to find my children? Try to find Paul? I have no idea... but am I guessing I would just run. And if, when I got somewhere "safe," I was without my children, I think I would just have preferred to die. I really do.

I don't know if this is sensationalism on my part or not. But I don't want to read stories like these and then just forget about it. I don't want to think "Oh, how terrible" one minute and then "what's to eat?" the next. People are being murdered, raped, and terrorized. I hope that is never "okay" with me.

Pray for the people of Sudan.

more here

I am my own worst enemy

The time of day when I have to start making dinner is probably my least favorite part of the day. It is impossible to get around the kitchen without stepping on a child. Mr. Bug gets particularly crabby as dinner time approaches. Add to this that I have been with the children all day... so my patience is usually wearing thin. Everyone is generally crabby and frustrated.

On a normal night, Paul would come home around this time and I can get some relief from the kids while he entertains them. Tonight, however, Paul had a track meet, so... I just kept tripping (both literally and figuratively.)

Now, most rational people would take all of these things into account and go for the easy meal, but NOT ME!

Today, as I was rummaging around trying to find something to eat, I saw that I had a bunch of mozzerella cheese in the freezer. Pizza, I thought. Great idea. But what would I use to make the crust? I had english muffins, and Ms. Boo liked making english muffin pizzas the last time we did it... but they were so gross. (More rummaging...) I thought I had a package of yeast... yes there it was. I decided I could make the dough from scratch.

But what about the sauce? We used spaghetti sauce last time, but that also tasted gross. (I grab my cookbook.) I had everything I needed to make sauce from scratch. So... off I go....

Yeast, flour, water, oil... knead the dough. pull J off leg. preheat oven. Brown the ground meat. let dough rise. pull Mr. Bug off leg. crush canned tomatoes, oregano, garlic, chop the onions, pepper. open can of mushrooms. put Bug in his bed. drain mushrooms. drain meat. clean table. flour table and roll out dough. add toppings. read recipe and realize that you were supposed to bake the dough 10 minutes before adding toppings. sigh. put pizza in oven. roll out second half of dough to make the pizza that you weren't even going to bother with until Boo threw a fit b/c you wouldn't let her help, and you yelled at her because she wasn't even supposed to be IN the kitchen, but should've been watching the tape that SHE ASKED FOR and staying out of the way like you told her, and now you feel bad, so you decide to make the second pizza anyway. put crust in oven. clean table. get Boo a paper towel so she can "help" clean too and maybe we can avoid another tantrum from the child who refused to nap today. clean the floor where Boo spilled flour when she was "helping." clean up mushroom can. clean up can of tomato sauce. No, Boo, you cannot have a snack now. clean meat spilled on stove. put away flour, garlic, oil. try to wake up Bug... no luck. get out plates. serve pizza. get out "shaking" cheese. Let Boo shake cheese by herself... enough said. see that none of the cheese is actually ON THE PIZZA. Reason w/ three-year-old that she doesn't need more cheese, but can use what is on her plate, all she has to do is dip her pizza in it. get fork. cut a piece of her pizza and demonstrate dipping. console child for next 2 minutes, profusely apologizing for cutting her pizza, and try to convince her that the piece cannot be reattached. wake up Bug cut piece of pizza for him. watch him eat some. spits out the rest... why? BECAUSE IT IS GROSS!

should've used the freakin' english muffins and spahetti sauce!