Little Hands

It's nearing the end of preschool.  We have sing a longs, we have feild trips, mother's day crafts and memory folders.  Amongst these are these are the poem:
"Sometimes you get discouraged because I am so small, I leave my little fingerprints on every single wall.  But I am growing and I'll be all grown up someday and surely all those fingerprints will slowly fade away.  And so here's a final handprint so you can recall, just how my hand looked when I was so small." 
We also got a lovely poem about a mom ranting at her son for writing on the walls and at the end she goes to see the wall and they had written "I love you mom" with a heart. 
Well thank you for the mom guilt. 
It was such a long morning.  I had to tell Bray about a zillion (that's right...a zillion) times to go do a potty try before school.  Finally, he goes...on top of the toilet and also hitting his underwear, pants and school bag (impressive really, but still frustrating).  We get it together, get to school, drop the kids off and then I go to the store to get stuff for the ice cream social tomorrow in Gav's class and some other things I need, including a roasted chicken.  Amanda and I get back to the chickens and they don't come out for another 25 minutes.  Of course.  We head to our next errand and the store isn't open.  We wait.  She is angry that I have strapped her in a stroller and letting the whole wide world know.  Store opens, we are in and out and back to the grocery store for the chicken.  We go home to unload and Amanda continues her tirade on the world for being strapped in the carseat yet again. 
We go to get Brayden, run home, unload the bags of groceries, put a few things away and then load back up to hear Gavin's "spring sing" at school.  I shove a few snacks in my pockets hoping it will occupy my little one who is now beyond angry at her life, being shuffled in and out of the car/stroller/cart. 
We listen to the spring sing, try to gather information about the feild trip tomorrow (which is at the same time as Brayden's and I am trying to figure out the chaperone situation and getting no where).  We go to the car and Gavin starts to cry that he didn't get a snack and amanda and Bray did.  I can already tell he's tired.  Then I stop him to look at a small hole in his shirt and he loses it wanting to change his shirt and is beside himself when I tell him no.  (Really, it's the smallest hole ever and a cool shirt and he's just going nuts...so is Amanda at this point). 
I turn the radio up as loud as I can to drown them out.  At this point I am not sure if I should laugh or cry. 
I get Amanda and Bray in the house and inform Gav he can come in when he calms down.  I make lunch and go see if Gav is ready...he's not.  Brayden follows me and starts to lecture Gavin too.  This helps no one, especially since Brayden is not supposed to get up from the table.  Amanda, after filling up on snacks throws her food on the ground and signs all done while screaming.  I clean up after her, get her down and check on Gav.  Still crying.  Get back inside and Bray is feeding Amanda, like she's a small dog.  I put her back in the chair, because I am trying to teach her to sit at the table and not walk around with her food.  She goes nuts.  Bray complains he doesn't like the food.  I can still hear Gavin crying.  AWESOME! 
I am so grumpy and short with them all at this point.  Finally, I get Gavin to chill out, clean up Bray and put Amanda down for a nap.  Then we all sit to read Gavin's memory album and Bray's mother's day gift and enter the poems.  I start to cry.  For real.  My kids look like I have completely lost it.
I had just had four hours of grueling parenting and I am sad that I actually know deep down I'll miss it.  I am also sad that I didn't spend the day reading books, going to the park, or at least responding to my grumpy kids with patience and sunshine like you think you should do after reading such poems.
But...I did sign up to get Gav's class Hersey syrup.  I did promise to make a chicken salad with roasted chicken to shawn, Brayden does only have one pair of socks and I told him I'd get new ones and I do think it's important my kids learn a hole in one's shirt is not worth a monumental tantrum and that we cannot eat our food walking all over the house and dropping it where ever we deem convienent. 
At the first sign of tears, the boys hug me and snuggle in.  I cuddle them back and set the poems face down, taking a deep breathe.  It's a compromise.  Mothering isn't just sunshine and joy.  They are kids and if we are doing it right, there will be tears because they are being molded and we are being molded.  Both of us learning to do it better.  On the flipside, sometimes we do need to laugh instead of cry and embrace the mess, the tears and the chaos for what it is.  And so...when I sent the boys to quiet time and Bray turned around and said, "But mom, I just want to sit and snuggle you," I melted, chucked my idea of getting a few things accomplished out the window and sat on the couch to snuggle.  No tears this time.  Just some deep breathes and having those little hands go around my neck. 

Getting "it"

Today was a great day...today I just sat back and enjoyed my children. 
Many of our days are booked and planned.  I do not enjoy sitting at home..."stay at home" mom or not...it is hard for me to actually participate in the stay part.  Therefore, mid quiet time, I sat thinking about the long afternoon that stretched ahead.  Dad wasn't in the picture for tonight, so that meant five hours of which I had nothing on the agenda.  I felt like curling up and reading a book, however, I have learned that this only means fighting, bickering, 50 questions, crying about nothing to do and Amanda crawling all over me trying to get me to read her books.  (Yes, I really have tried reading with the kids awake and though it can be done, I wouldn't recommend it if you want to retain the information in said book).
So...I decided, instead of playing bump on a log, merely biding my time and working myself into an irritable state, I was gonna find us something worth while.  So, I called up my dad and scheduled to meet him after work at the train park.  (This is a park a bit south from us that gives train rides for a slightly overpriced fee...my kids love it and we rarely go, cuz I do have a hard time paying for what it is...no matter how they adore it). 
We went to the park and my kids were awesome.  They listened.   They waited over 30 minutes for papa to show up to ride the train (30 minutes for my boys waiting for a train, I believe feels to them like a quarter century...and I heard not one complaint).  They shared with other kids.  They rode the train.  They said please and thank you. 
Then, I wanted to check out a nearby toy store.  The boys and I walked around it looking and looking.  We exclaimed over what we loved.  We checked out the AMAZING playmobil section.  We discovered new lego sets.  They didn't whine one bit or even ask for a toy.  (Gavin did mention his birthday a few times, until I told him it was about 100 days away, which seemed to shut it down pretty quick).
We went to dinner and they were so polite.  They ate happily, shared their food with each other (without prompting) and Brayden even saved three slices of his pizza for his dad "cuz he probably is sad and hungry". 
I was just so proud of my kids.   Today, I saw them implimenting so many things we have taught...the please, the thank you, sharing, listening, gratitude.  The best part...I saw it without having to prompt it!  Thank you God! 
Truly, it was a gift from above.  So many days we are in the mix of teaching behavior and morals and trying to get "life" done, that we miss seeing the things we have taught.  I often find myself only catching the lessons the kids have missed...feeling like my day is a tape recording of "please stop", "what have I told you about ____?"  "Is that a wise choice?"  "Give it back."  "What in the world!!!!"  Or something along those lines. 
Today, I am not sure if it was because I was making a conscience effort to do something my kids loved, or if it was just something God wanted me to see, but I saw that they are getting it.  Maybe not all of it and not all the time, but it is there.  It, being all the little things we try to teach along the way.  And it is so encouraging, that in the mundane of life, when the days seem hard and you plod along, hoping against hope and praying diligently, the things you are trying to impart take some sort of root in their heart...God gives you a moment, an hour, or even a day, to see those things are there. 
I thank God for those moments, hours and days.  Because of them, I am reminded of how good God is, and in them, I am given the strength to keep on keeping on.

Quote of the day

Brayden:  I want to start a band.
Me:  What instrument will you play.
Bray:  Tuba, it's loud.
Me:  Oh, what song will you sing?
Bray:  Lump (by Presidents of the United States of America)

And this is what you get when Sesame Street and my husbands music tastes collide.  I love it.  I love these moments when our influence meets up with our sons personality and suddenly you get a little glimps of who he might be.  A tuba playing rockstar?  Probably not, but definitely something original. 

As much as I struggle to understand this little guy, I am grateful for the joy he brings.  It will be so fun to watch him grow and I am sure He is going to suprise us with lots of amazing things he does that we never would have thought of.  Just because God made him and original and he has embraced it with full abandon!

Setting up the pins

I was listening to Sara Groves in the car the other day. For those that do not know Sara... you are sorely missing out. I adore her lyrics and music. My infatuation aside, she had a song that really spoke to me, with a lyric I cannot get out of my head, "we're all setting up the pins for knockin' them down". How fitting is that to life...as a mom (and I imagine as a person in the outside workforce as well)?
We have our calendar, set up the dentist appointments, the dr. visits, preschool, swim lessons, playdates. We wake up, put on the clothes, eat breakfast, brush teeth, go where we are supposed to be, lunch, nap, play, dinner, remove clothes, pjs, teeth, prayers good night. We plan it all out, go through all the motions, "set up all the pins" and then knock them down to do it again. Sometimes I get to wondering if I missed something somwhere. The middle of Sara's song goes as follows

you can find joy in the fertile ground
setting up the pins and knocking em down
you can try to fight it till you're anger drowned
setting up the pins
everyone everywhere some way some how
are setting up the pins for knocking em down
it can feel simple but it's really profound
setting up the pins

God took a holy moment to speak to me as I listened to this little bluegrassy tune...it's not worth getting upset over...I have fertile ground in my kids to work with daily. Yes, sometimes the tasks are mundane, monotonous and seem to be trivial, but how profound the outcome if I am consistant and continually cultivate.
I love music for this very reason...it is such a gift to our souls. I am thankful that little God prompting to put the CD in and take out the kid's music. This little tune gave me something to hum as I set up the pins and as I knock them down...reminding me of the worth in each task set up and each task accomplished. Although, I do have to say, there is something in that kid's music that speaks as well, because I truly can realate to "The crazy dance" by GO FISH. But that is a whole different entry (:

Mental Pictures

Many of my memories, I think are from photographs. We document the bigger moments, look through pictures and these are the things I tend to most remember about my children. I try to think back to when Gav was a baby and there's not a great deal I remember that isn't in his album. With Brayden, it's even more of a blur, since there were two babies and I was just trying to wade through the days...barely aware of what was going on. Amanda, well, there are less pictures and more chaos.
However, in the middle of it all, there are those stand out moments. They aren't from a camera, or a story passed down...just seemingly silly, or obsolete moments from an outsiders view, but in a mom's (or dad's heart) it is imprinted. It's these moments that make my heart ache. It's a sweet ache. An ache of time gone by so fast, an ache of recognizing there is a big world ahead and I won't always be there, an ache of affection, an ache of longing to hold on to this moment.
Yesterday, Amanda was wandering down the hall. On her lower half was a fuschia tutu skirt, leggings, one up and one down and crazy striped socks. Her upper half was adorned with an oversized lime green jersey from the boy's soccer and topping it off was two bedhead, lopsided pigtails. She turned to smile back and me, then singing waddled off as fast as her legs could carry her to get in the boys door before it closed on her. Throwing back one more triumphant smile she turned and entered their room.
The ache began. I am thankful for this ache and these moments. Most days, I am probably pushing my kids to grow up too fast. Waiting for the day, bottoms are wiped by themselves and everyone gets their seatbelts buckled alone. But these are the moments that remind us to hold on, slow down and thank God that we have little ones...with crazy oversized jersey's and lopsided pigtails, lighting up our day.

I used to play scrabble

One of my favorite games growing up was scrabble. It's a family thing. Only my sister hates it, but mom, dad and I play for blood. A low scoring game is in the high 200s and well...we know all the two letter words that make no sense, the ones that involve an X and the Q words that have no U. It's ridiculous. Even in college I loved to play and if I am not mistaken I went undefeated (unless you don't count Zebrafish as a proper noun, in which case, I may have lost once).
Now...I play candyland. I am pretty sure my brain atrophies a bit more every time I get sent back to the peanut and I groan everytime the peppermint candy card is drawn because, once again the game is prolonged. I also play Chutes and Ladders and I would like to personally take out the man who created the board with way more Chutes, three of which are on the top of the game board...right next to the end of the game. Was the maker intentionally trying to torture us parents...just when we see the light at the end of the tunnel and the game might be over -BAM! Down the chute you go. It really is awful.
All that to say, I seem to have digressed in many areas and I would like to get my brain back. Maybe my sense of fashion too (my sister may argue here that I never had one...but I at least had some fun shoes). Raising kids just does that to you I guess. One day I was making a shrimp linguini...the next mac and cheese.
As we are starting to move out of "babyhood" into the wonderful world of kiddy kingdom, I am find more chunks of time to do things. They are little chunks. In no way am I going to take up writing a novel or refinishing furniture, but I have managed to pop out a few things on the sewing machine, I have been reading more and the other day, I even managed to make a homemade card. I feel good about this.
I also taught my daughter the word baby, got Brayden to ride around the block on his big boy bike and after much encouragement, watched Gavin build his own train track without my help (huge deal here, that I was not involved). And as much as I have certain days where I feel starved for some uninterrupted time, I do believe the latter of my accomplishments by far outweigh the former.
And so, I guess for now, I will have to let my brain take a bit of a break as I give up skimming the new scrabble dictionary and spin the wheel one more time on the High Ho Cherry O board, waiting to see if the bird eats my fruit. Because everytime he does, my kids giggle...I love that sound and I am pretty confident the scrabble board could not produce it!

paying the cost

So, as I was reading the Bible the other day, I came across some verses about "paying the cost" of following Christ. In church and among other followers, you here this frequently. Paying the cost, carrying your cross, etc. I get it, God asks when we follow Him, to lay down our own life and take up the life He has for us. It can be hard. The world doesn't exactly see eye to eye with the Way Christ asks us to live. In other countries, people are tortured and killed for following Jesus. We have to make decisions that go against the flow and are not in line with the view the world is taking on. Our morals aren't always people's choice or popular opinion.
Today I was confronted with the fact that, at some point, my children will also have to pay the cost. They will have to defend their own faith and may be discriminated against for it. They could be put down or frowned upon for following Jesus. This hurts my heart. For Jesus and for them. It is one thing to deal with my own battles, but another to consider the fact that my children will face their own and I can't fight for them.
I am one to borrow trouble. God and I are working on this. BUt in regards to my kids, I am having to work doubley hard. I am having to turn their little lives over to Him again and again, trusting in His incredible grace and praying for His great wisdom. I want to stand in front of my children and protect them from any barb, jibe or hurt that may come. But I can't. It is so hard.
The comfort I am clinging to is how God did this to the highest degree for us. He gave His only Son to die on the cross. He knows the hurt of watching His son be hurt...far more than I ever will.
Oh may I take comfort in the fact that we have a God who understands. And though it's hard to imagine, loves my kids even more than I do.