Every year around late August, I start to get anxiety. My heart starts beating, my chest feels tight and it all comes down to the fact that I know there are so many decisions to be made, schedule changes coming and forms to be filled out. For a complete control freak like me, it's overwhelming. I borrow trouble and worries about upcoming events and changes and well...go a little crazy.
I do have some legit concerns about open enrollment for health care. Team, I could write a math book of story problems I have created in order to try and figure out the best route for our family. I am sure the lady at the district office is ready to tell them to let Shawn go, just so she won't hear from me again. I also have some forms that you fill out, just to get you more forms (the schools health form, which requires more forms and oops, if those aren't completed, Gav can't go to school...didn't see that line!) And then there is the fact that new commitments have us essentially scheduled Sun, Mon, Tues, and Wed night.
What happens when these legit concerns overlap with other minor decisions and schedule changes is I start to freak out about completely inane things. My husband and good friends can attest to this. I try to over control and get overwhelmed by the most basic questions or tasks. A few humbling examples of my lame freak out moments:
Will I be able to get both kids to their separate soccer practice and manage to feed them dinner?
-(yes of course. We managed...as long as three meatballs and a smoothie qualify as dinner, this one is a cake walk)
Should Brayden do morning or afternoon preschool?
-(Umm....well if he's gone when Amanda may just nap, why am I even asking this?)
Should I order a casual polo for my Awana leader uniform or the womens cut?
-(Seriously, both are amongst the fashion challenged and I shall impress no one in either, why worry)
Should Amanda sign up for gymnastics or dance class?
-(Uh...who cares? She's three and lucky she gets to do anything. She is most likely not Shawn Johnson or a prima ballerina...really, let it go)
Yes. So silly. I know this. I mean, I know this! But still sometimes I get so close to hyperventilation just trying to get my life in order. So many little things snack day, show and tell, the pumpkin farm field trip, soccer practice, ballet, insurance, car repairs, drop off, pick up, eye dr., well child checks, asthma forms, release forms, permission slips, homework, and on and on and on.
But this is our life. And it's good. And we're fortunate. And I am learning to take deep breathes and be thankful. Thankful for healthcare, for a car, for preschool, for the ability to have my kids participate in a sport/class, for education, for a doctor that watches out for the kiddos, for meatballs and smoothies! I am learning to embrace the crazy in my head and take it to God.
"Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition and with thanksgiving, present your requests to God and the peace of God, which transcends all understanding will guard your hearts and minds." Philippians 4:6-7
In taking it a day at a time, sometimes an activity at a time, and reminding myself to be thankful, God is showing me His faithfulness in new ways. I am learning to laugh a little more at my decision making inability and I am learning that not every decision/responsibility/situation is as big a deal as I can make it out to be. (For those that know me well...no comment, I will most likely still be prone to overdramatization still).
Yet another credit to the Lord, because He has been guarding my heart and mind. I know he has....and frankly, to do any sort of work on the crazy in mind, truly transcends understanding. But He's doing it. I am so grateful. Thank you Lord and Amen!!!!
Monday, September 16, 2013
Tuesday, August 6, 2013
The curse of the Pacific Northwest
Being from the Pacific Northwest, we love our sunny days. It is beautiful here, there is no doubt. Water, mountains, hikes....God's creation.
Being from the Pacific Northwest, on sunny days over 75 and my kids melt. They get "sooooo hot". They "can't walk another step". They get "tiiiiiied" (tired), as Amanda would say. It really is kinda pathetic, but there are days I understand where they are coming from.
It is a strange dichotomy, because I feel as though being a good mom requires me being outside on a sunny day in the Northwest, no matter the protest on my kids lips. On the other hand....it is summer, we are tired from running around, staying up late and doing all the summer stuff. And well, some days I do want to lay inside, in front of the fan, on the floor, doing nothing. To not be at a park, in the water, on a bike ride, picking berries and not be drying my hands out with the never ending sunscreen application process (my kids are whiter than white). Today a good friend of mine told me she told her kids they could watch a show on her computer, "but only if you do it outside" and I'm thinking..."you're brilliant." This is what the Pacific Northwest does to you. I see the sunshine and I am pushing my kids out the door.
Now, I am relatively sure the mom who was in front of the fan loving on her kids was a better one than the mom yelling about water squirter rules and confiscating toys left and right from the kids who were forced outside. But staying inside seems somehow wrong. Guilt. Indoor remorse. It could be a curse of the Pacific Northwest, but I am more inclined to believe it's me trying to be who I am not and trying to make my kids into something they are not.
We need rest. Sometimes, the fan is good. A good book on a cool couch, with the sun coming through the window is okay. A picnic inside on a blanket, with the light of the day shining on our indoor teacups is lovely. A little break from sunscreen is healthy (I could do a whole post on my pure hatred of sunscreen application, but I have chosen to not fuel the hatred in writing about it).
I never really thought much about being from Washington, other than I love it here. I haven't thought it affected me, but in this, I have noticed I have distinct PNW issues. However, I am breaking the bondage and I am reconciling myself that I need not take advantage of every sunny day. Traitorous, though it feels, I believe I will actually be more like the "good mom" I want to be.
Being from the Pacific Northwest, on sunny days over 75 and my kids melt. They get "sooooo hot". They "can't walk another step". They get "tiiiiiied" (tired), as Amanda would say. It really is kinda pathetic, but there are days I understand where they are coming from.
It is a strange dichotomy, because I feel as though being a good mom requires me being outside on a sunny day in the Northwest, no matter the protest on my kids lips. On the other hand....it is summer, we are tired from running around, staying up late and doing all the summer stuff. And well, some days I do want to lay inside, in front of the fan, on the floor, doing nothing. To not be at a park, in the water, on a bike ride, picking berries and not be drying my hands out with the never ending sunscreen application process (my kids are whiter than white). Today a good friend of mine told me she told her kids they could watch a show on her computer, "but only if you do it outside" and I'm thinking..."you're brilliant." This is what the Pacific Northwest does to you. I see the sunshine and I am pushing my kids out the door.
Now, I am relatively sure the mom who was in front of the fan loving on her kids was a better one than the mom yelling about water squirter rules and confiscating toys left and right from the kids who were forced outside. But staying inside seems somehow wrong. Guilt. Indoor remorse. It could be a curse of the Pacific Northwest, but I am more inclined to believe it's me trying to be who I am not and trying to make my kids into something they are not.
We need rest. Sometimes, the fan is good. A good book on a cool couch, with the sun coming through the window is okay. A picnic inside on a blanket, with the light of the day shining on our indoor teacups is lovely. A little break from sunscreen is healthy (I could do a whole post on my pure hatred of sunscreen application, but I have chosen to not fuel the hatred in writing about it).
I never really thought much about being from Washington, other than I love it here. I haven't thought it affected me, but in this, I have noticed I have distinct PNW issues. However, I am breaking the bondage and I am reconciling myself that I need not take advantage of every sunny day. Traitorous, though it feels, I believe I will actually be more like the "good mom" I want to be.
Sunday, August 4, 2013
Summer
It's been awhile....
This summer has been running from one adventure to another. Brief summaries:
Yellowstone road trip highlights include:
the boys becoming Jr. Rangers (Brayden took this very seriously), Amanda's amazing fit at the painted pots being caught on film (seriously, this is the kind of thing you stand in awe of and later say you wish you had caught it...super embarrassing, yes. However, I think we will laugh at this in years to come - dad's still not there yet) , following a buffalo who wouldn't get off the road for over 45 minutes (apparently "traffic" looks different in Wyoming), visiting Missoula (visiting the ER there, not so much, but the city itself was fine), watching my boys play "chest" as Gavin calls it (chess), the small town parade and fireworks from our balcony, the 15 hour car drive home...though not a highlight, definitely something I am proud the family survived.
Camping at Lake Wenatchee: with our friends the Eicherts and my family up the road a ways, it was perfect weather, great company and we got to use our brand new tent. It really was one of the smoothest and relaxing camping trips we've had yet as a family of five.
Bellingham trip to celebrate the 10 year anniversary: 3 nights no kids! Wahoo!!!! We ate, we slept and we got to hang out together, just us!!! So fun. Great news is that we still have fun together and love to laugh. Ten years of practicing awesome.
Trip to Seabrook with the family: My parents rented a house for my sister's and our family. SO great! One of those trips that the kids talk about over and over and you look at just knowing they will remember the time...the hammock, the beach, the pool, the putt putt golf, the ice cream, the bumper boats, the smores, the bike rides and the super cool beds built into the walls for each of the kids. Not to mention, good food, good wine and an amazing family.
And...we're back. I feel a tad overwhelmed with the e-vites, "back to school" stuff and various projects that seem to be lurking around every corner, but I am ever thankful for the time as a family and the privileges it is to have had so many opportunities this July.
It has been a challenge to try and remind the kids that they are beyond blessed to have had these chances. That this isn't a normal summer and they need to be grateful instead of entitled. I am looking for ways to instill and build this in them. WOW! It is hard.
But still I wouldn't trade it. I am definitely grateful for the time. So very blessed.
This summer has been running from one adventure to another. Brief summaries:
Yellowstone road trip highlights include:
the boys becoming Jr. Rangers (Brayden took this very seriously), Amanda's amazing fit at the painted pots being caught on film (seriously, this is the kind of thing you stand in awe of and later say you wish you had caught it...super embarrassing, yes. However, I think we will laugh at this in years to come - dad's still not there yet) , following a buffalo who wouldn't get off the road for over 45 minutes (apparently "traffic" looks different in Wyoming), visiting Missoula (visiting the ER there, not so much, but the city itself was fine), watching my boys play "chest" as Gavin calls it (chess), the small town parade and fireworks from our balcony, the 15 hour car drive home...though not a highlight, definitely something I am proud the family survived.
Camping at Lake Wenatchee: with our friends the Eicherts and my family up the road a ways, it was perfect weather, great company and we got to use our brand new tent. It really was one of the smoothest and relaxing camping trips we've had yet as a family of five.
Bellingham trip to celebrate the 10 year anniversary: 3 nights no kids! Wahoo!!!! We ate, we slept and we got to hang out together, just us!!! So fun. Great news is that we still have fun together and love to laugh. Ten years of practicing awesome.
Trip to Seabrook with the family: My parents rented a house for my sister's and our family. SO great! One of those trips that the kids talk about over and over and you look at just knowing they will remember the time...the hammock, the beach, the pool, the putt putt golf, the ice cream, the bumper boats, the smores, the bike rides and the super cool beds built into the walls for each of the kids. Not to mention, good food, good wine and an amazing family.
And...we're back. I feel a tad overwhelmed with the e-vites, "back to school" stuff and various projects that seem to be lurking around every corner, but I am ever thankful for the time as a family and the privileges it is to have had so many opportunities this July.
It has been a challenge to try and remind the kids that they are beyond blessed to have had these chances. That this isn't a normal summer and they need to be grateful instead of entitled. I am looking for ways to instill and build this in them. WOW! It is hard.
But still I wouldn't trade it. I am definitely grateful for the time. So very blessed.
Wednesday, May 1, 2013
Stronger
Gavin is a bit of a wimp when it comes to scrapes, owies or boo boos. I know it's not nice to say this about your child, but there is just no way around it. At the sign of a scrape, he melts down. He is so incredibley over dramatic about any potential scrape, when he actually gets one it's as though amputation is on the horizon. It is hard to actually determine the true degree of "ouch" because everything is a near death experience for him.
I try to be sympathetic, but after a half hour of crying over nothing...literally no sign of anything, my patience is stretched thin and my empathy has flown out the window. Honestly, my two year old girl handles things better. And so when the elbow injury, that actually invovled blood, occured last week, I was already starting deep breathing and self talk to try and muster up the patience and mother love I'd need to get through it. It took awhile, but we did in fact move on. Until bed time.
At bedtime, Gavin was rustling around and finally I see the tears start pooling in the bottom of his eyes. When I asked him what's wrong he says, "How am I going to sleep with a scrape on my elbow?"
My thoughts? What in the world kid! That happened about 6 hours ago! What I really said, "Gav, think about it, it's already healing, don't you think you'll be fine?"
"Noooooo," tears getting closer to falling, "I can't lie on it...it touches things."
Oh geez. At the end of a long day, long week, I had so little left and yes, this is in fact what I said, umm sang, "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger...stand a little taller"
Gav, probably wondering what is wrong with me, looks taken aback and says, "that's Amanda's song." (Well, yes, my daughter does happen to love this song. So, we refer to it as Amanda's song. I know, I know, she should probably be singing things like itsy bitsy spider, but I just can't handle that stuff. So, Kelly Clarkson it is. Things could be worse.) "Mom, what does that mean?"
Even though I was just singing, so as not to scream in frustration, I decided to go with it
"Well, the that's like this scrape. It didn't kill you, but it's making you stronger. Every owy makes you a little bit stronger, cuz you know you can get through it. So, we don't whine and cry, but we try to remember that we are getting tougher by healing."
I flipped Gav over onto his other arm and laid his scraped one ontop of the covers. And he dramatically declares, while gently placing the scrape away from any sheet, "Oh, this is great Mom. So I am gonna get stronger, now?"
"Yes Gavin. Good-night."
Next day: We have a little boy over who I watch three days a week. He happens to have scrapes on his arm and is declaring that they hurt. I mention that so does Gavin, but we are working on not whining while we let things heal. (Sidenote here: When things are truly painful and they really do have an injury, I do allow for tears and a bit of complaining. But if you could see these scratches, you would be on my side...trust me.) Anyway, Gav shows his friend his scrape and declares,
"It's making me stronger. We don't complain, but we learn to get stronger after each boo boo"
I had to laugh. My moment of parental survival. Singing so as not to heave a huge sigh of frustration over my drama king...and he takes my words to heart. I am glad at least there is a lesson here. He will get stronger by learning from mistakes, hurts and boo boos. I looked it up and the original credit for the quote goes to Frederich Nietzsche, a german philosopher. But who are we kidding? I am ever so humbled to admit the truth...my best parenting moment of the week was brought to you by Kelly Clarkson.
I try to be sympathetic, but after a half hour of crying over nothing...literally no sign of anything, my patience is stretched thin and my empathy has flown out the window. Honestly, my two year old girl handles things better. And so when the elbow injury, that actually invovled blood, occured last week, I was already starting deep breathing and self talk to try and muster up the patience and mother love I'd need to get through it. It took awhile, but we did in fact move on. Until bed time.
At bedtime, Gavin was rustling around and finally I see the tears start pooling in the bottom of his eyes. When I asked him what's wrong he says, "How am I going to sleep with a scrape on my elbow?"
My thoughts? What in the world kid! That happened about 6 hours ago! What I really said, "Gav, think about it, it's already healing, don't you think you'll be fine?"
"Noooooo," tears getting closer to falling, "I can't lie on it...it touches things."
Oh geez. At the end of a long day, long week, I had so little left and yes, this is in fact what I said, umm sang, "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger...stand a little taller"
Gav, probably wondering what is wrong with me, looks taken aback and says, "that's Amanda's song." (Well, yes, my daughter does happen to love this song. So, we refer to it as Amanda's song. I know, I know, she should probably be singing things like itsy bitsy spider, but I just can't handle that stuff. So, Kelly Clarkson it is. Things could be worse.) "Mom, what does that mean?"
Even though I was just singing, so as not to scream in frustration, I decided to go with it
"Well, the that's like this scrape. It didn't kill you, but it's making you stronger. Every owy makes you a little bit stronger, cuz you know you can get through it. So, we don't whine and cry, but we try to remember that we are getting tougher by healing."
I flipped Gav over onto his other arm and laid his scraped one ontop of the covers. And he dramatically declares, while gently placing the scrape away from any sheet, "Oh, this is great Mom. So I am gonna get stronger, now?"
"Yes Gavin. Good-night."
Next day: We have a little boy over who I watch three days a week. He happens to have scrapes on his arm and is declaring that they hurt. I mention that so does Gavin, but we are working on not whining while we let things heal. (Sidenote here: When things are truly painful and they really do have an injury, I do allow for tears and a bit of complaining. But if you could see these scratches, you would be on my side...trust me.) Anyway, Gav shows his friend his scrape and declares,
"It's making me stronger. We don't complain, but we learn to get stronger after each boo boo"
I had to laugh. My moment of parental survival. Singing so as not to heave a huge sigh of frustration over my drama king...and he takes my words to heart. I am glad at least there is a lesson here. He will get stronger by learning from mistakes, hurts and boo boos. I looked it up and the original credit for the quote goes to Frederich Nietzsche, a german philosopher. But who are we kidding? I am ever so humbled to admit the truth...my best parenting moment of the week was brought to you by Kelly Clarkson.
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
Rearview mirror
It was a good day, a long, but good day. We went to the park this afternoon for 3 hours with some of my highschool friends and their kids. The kids are finally old enough to remember each other and play together and they so enjoyed running around in the sunshine (yes...sunshine!). I got to actually catch up a little with my friends (well, except when Amanda and her little friend Aven took off and I found them around the restrooms washing their hands in the drinking fountain...moment of panic).
We then headed out to dinner with Mimi and Papa to finish off what I have entitled "Birthday Palooza". April is Shawn's brother's birthday, SHawn's birthday, Shawn's mom's birthday, my neices, birthday, Brayden's birthday and my mom's birthday. Yeah. Craziness. But today was the last, with Mimi turning 60! So, we had our "dillas" at the local mexican joint and headed home.
The kids were tired. This always makes for a relaxing car ride. Less screaming, less questions, less kicking chair backs, less song requests.
I glanced back in the review mirror and witnessed Amanda's eyes flutter and shut as she drifted off. Her little cheeks were rosy, her hair was in a messy bun, with wisps across her face, her head tilted to the side. So sweet, still slightly baby faced. In the background, Gavin was quietly reading a book to Brayden, who was asking questions and listening intently. I wanted to capture the moment.
But...I had to look forward.
It struck me that this is so similar to life. We look in the rearview mirror and see the sweet treasures we have. I see the 6.5 year old who just learned to read and is cruising along a book. Who is thoughtfully showing the pictures to his brother, who catches my eyes in the mirror and smiles.
I see the just turned 5 year old leaning his head in to listen to his big brother. Taking a swig of his newly acquired "rescue canteen" and responsibly placing it next to him with a solid pat.
I see the cherubed face, sleeping contently after a long day of play. Her silky fine hair falling down and creating an overall picture that melts your heart.
I do not see the chaos it was to pack for the park, I don't see the 10 minutes it took to reteach tying shoes, I don't see the argument that ensued over who got the booster. I don't see any of that in the rearview mirror.
I want to stop and stay focused on the sweetness behind me...however, that would probably ensue in a relatively large car crash. If I live in the rearview mirror, my kids will not be prepared for the future. I don't want them to be in a crash...and so, I must look forward.
Somedays, I don't want to look forward. I don't want to leave my babies behind. But I must. I must let them grow up, must teach new lessons, must tackle new problems, must let them tie their own shoes. Sometimes, I think I am ready...especially with the shoe tying. But I can just see myself a few years down the road, when they want some expensive shoe that I want to roll my eyes at thinking, "I wish my biggest concern was just tying these darn shoes!"
In the rearview mirror, you can see the hard times and exclaim..."I made it!" Which, in turn, I believe allows you to focus on the sweetness and all that was good. Looking forward, I don't have the ability to know that I'll make it. To be certain. I like certainty.
I think I know in my heart of hearts, I'll make it. God is too big a God. He is able to do all things. It just sometimes feels like I won't. These are the moments where I just want to stare into that rearview mirror....relish the goodness I see there.
But I really am starting to think, God set up life like a big roadtrip. You must look forward. You will travel in sunshine and blue skies, you will drive through whiteouts and storms, you will have moments where you pull over to soak it in and moments where you floor it to get the heck out of dodge. You will see barren lands and you will encounter majestic, heartstopping views that will scream the greatness of their Creator. And all the while, you will have those times where you glance back to remind yourself of the road traveled...to check on things. And you will see memories of sweet faces, small voices and all the goodness that you made it through...in your rearview mirror.
We then headed out to dinner with Mimi and Papa to finish off what I have entitled "Birthday Palooza". April is Shawn's brother's birthday, SHawn's birthday, Shawn's mom's birthday, my neices, birthday, Brayden's birthday and my mom's birthday. Yeah. Craziness. But today was the last, with Mimi turning 60! So, we had our "dillas" at the local mexican joint and headed home.
The kids were tired. This always makes for a relaxing car ride. Less screaming, less questions, less kicking chair backs, less song requests.
I glanced back in the review mirror and witnessed Amanda's eyes flutter and shut as she drifted off. Her little cheeks were rosy, her hair was in a messy bun, with wisps across her face, her head tilted to the side. So sweet, still slightly baby faced. In the background, Gavin was quietly reading a book to Brayden, who was asking questions and listening intently. I wanted to capture the moment.
But...I had to look forward.
It struck me that this is so similar to life. We look in the rearview mirror and see the sweet treasures we have. I see the 6.5 year old who just learned to read and is cruising along a book. Who is thoughtfully showing the pictures to his brother, who catches my eyes in the mirror and smiles.
I see the just turned 5 year old leaning his head in to listen to his big brother. Taking a swig of his newly acquired "rescue canteen" and responsibly placing it next to him with a solid pat.
I see the cherubed face, sleeping contently after a long day of play. Her silky fine hair falling down and creating an overall picture that melts your heart.
I do not see the chaos it was to pack for the park, I don't see the 10 minutes it took to reteach tying shoes, I don't see the argument that ensued over who got the booster. I don't see any of that in the rearview mirror.
I want to stop and stay focused on the sweetness behind me...however, that would probably ensue in a relatively large car crash. If I live in the rearview mirror, my kids will not be prepared for the future. I don't want them to be in a crash...and so, I must look forward.
Somedays, I don't want to look forward. I don't want to leave my babies behind. But I must. I must let them grow up, must teach new lessons, must tackle new problems, must let them tie their own shoes. Sometimes, I think I am ready...especially with the shoe tying. But I can just see myself a few years down the road, when they want some expensive shoe that I want to roll my eyes at thinking, "I wish my biggest concern was just tying these darn shoes!"
In the rearview mirror, you can see the hard times and exclaim..."I made it!" Which, in turn, I believe allows you to focus on the sweetness and all that was good. Looking forward, I don't have the ability to know that I'll make it. To be certain. I like certainty.
I think I know in my heart of hearts, I'll make it. God is too big a God. He is able to do all things. It just sometimes feels like I won't. These are the moments where I just want to stare into that rearview mirror....relish the goodness I see there.
But I really am starting to think, God set up life like a big roadtrip. You must look forward. You will travel in sunshine and blue skies, you will drive through whiteouts and storms, you will have moments where you pull over to soak it in and moments where you floor it to get the heck out of dodge. You will see barren lands and you will encounter majestic, heartstopping views that will scream the greatness of their Creator. And all the while, you will have those times where you glance back to remind yourself of the road traveled...to check on things. And you will see memories of sweet faces, small voices and all the goodness that you made it through...in your rearview mirror.
Monday, April 15, 2013
To be like Gavin
Gavin is a large fan of money. He likes to save money, he doesn't like to tithe (we make him give 10 percent of any money he's earned to the tithing jar), and he loves to talk about what he's going to get himself with his money. It's hard to reason with a six year old, explain money, the pitfalls and the fact that it isn't everything...especially, when I struggle with the same issues. (I would like to believe I am not quite as vocal about them).
Anyway...on Easter, our kids got some money in their Easter eggs and we collected it and put it into baggies for him. As I was going to clean up, I handed Gav his bag and told him to go put it in his wallet. He trotted back to his room and came out with the money still in hand.
(Before I go further, I need to mention, our family has signed up for Beat the Bridge, a walk to help cure diabetes. We have been fundraising and explaining to the kids that the money will help to doctors, so they can cure four year old cousin Jamie.)
Gavin comes out, hands me the bag and says, "Mom, I want you to give this to the doctors so cousin Jamie can get better."
My heart swelled. It's still swelling. It was a few weeks ago now, but everytime I think about it, I am just so proud of my son and his heart. This is a big deal for Gav and he was so gracious about it.
Topping it off, was his trust that cousin Jamie would get better....that we have been praying, we're raising money and it will happen! I love that!
Lord, thank you for my sweet son Gavin...I hope I can learn to pray and believe and give like like him!
Anyway...on Easter, our kids got some money in their Easter eggs and we collected it and put it into baggies for him. As I was going to clean up, I handed Gav his bag and told him to go put it in his wallet. He trotted back to his room and came out with the money still in hand.
(Before I go further, I need to mention, our family has signed up for Beat the Bridge, a walk to help cure diabetes. We have been fundraising and explaining to the kids that the money will help to doctors, so they can cure four year old cousin Jamie.)
Gavin comes out, hands me the bag and says, "Mom, I want you to give this to the doctors so cousin Jamie can get better."
My heart swelled. It's still swelling. It was a few weeks ago now, but everytime I think about it, I am just so proud of my son and his heart. This is a big deal for Gav and he was so gracious about it.
Topping it off, was his trust that cousin Jamie would get better....that we have been praying, we're raising money and it will happen! I love that!
Lord, thank you for my sweet son Gavin...I hope I can learn to pray and believe and give like like him!
Saturday, March 30, 2013
Sharks
Amanda has been getting up at night to go potty. Most parents work towards getting their child to stay dry through the night. But then there is Shawn and me....we are seriously at the point where we were yelling, "just go in your pull-up" and she yells back "no" through her tears (brightside: at least we have taught her to stay in bed). Yeah, we're awesome. So we chucked the pull ups all together and just get up about twice a night to take her pee. It's like having a baby again. (In her defense, she has been in twice for a bladder infection and so we feel really compelled to take her when she says she needs to go...she's got some potty issues).
However, sometimes, she is crying for other things, like a show, a paci or what not and we have to listen first to make sure she's legit. If I am getting out of bed, someone had better be going potty...either her or me.
Well, last night, she'd already had a midnight pee run, when about an hour later we hear wailing...."Sharks, no" sob sob sob, "Mommy, Daaaaaaaddddy" Sob sob sob. I listen. Sharks? "Go to bed Amanda."
Through heaving sobs, I hear "Mooooommmy! Moooommy!" Not the normal fake cry, I get up and go in. She stands up, jumps to me and clings to my neck in shuddering sobs. I ask,
"What's wrong Amanda?"
"Sharks, no sharks, mama"
"What?"
"Sharks on my face."
"There are no sharks."
Through sobs, "Yes sharks."
I try to set her down at this point and she is clinging so tight I can't breathe. It takes about 5 minutes for me to convince her to lay back in bed. This is after verifying over and over there are no sharks, removing blankets to prove it and she's still doing the end of cry shudders and is just so pathetic mumbling about sharks.
Finally, I soothe her, her dad comes to kiss her and we sneak out of the room.
And I almost break out laughing. Sharks! What in the world? I have no idea where this kid would have seen sharks. I think we may have deduced that it is from a Disney show called Octonauts. But seriously, it's on disney jr. and so fluffy...I can't imagine a shark terrifying enough to effect her this way.
If it weren't for her pathetic cries and terrified clinging, I really would have disolved into a fit of giggles. Here we are, back to practically infant routine, getting up to take our kid pee and now she's having nightmares about sharks!
We have had multiple conversations today about it and two extended ones at naptime and bedtime. And if you are familiar with Amanda at all, you can only imagine the animation and body language involved in trying to convince us we are wrong about there being no sharks. The kid is something else.
I am thankful for her though. My hilarious, stubborn, animated, overly smart, passionate little girl. So much personality in one little body. And God let us have her, for who knows how long, but I am thankful for every minute. Especially the ones, where I get to be the good guy, the one who can comfort, the one who gets little arms around her neck and the one who gets to push hair out of the tears and let my brave little girl know that there are in fact, no sharks in her bed.
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