Bad hair day
cousins
Baby and Grandma and Focus on the Family
Garden of the gods. 
Beautiful bellySaturday, May 31, 2008
for your viewing pleasure
Bad hair day cousins Baby and Grandma and Focus on the Family Garden of the gods. Beautiful belly
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Big Beautiful Belly
My dear, very pregnant friend, Dawn, came over today with her kids. My sis was here too with her fancy smanchy camera, and eye for photography. So we got a few shots of
a pregnant mama. These were not pictures of the delicate 2nd trimester belly, but of a full term, ripe and round belly, with a 8 pound little guy cuddled inside.
Dawn was feeling self concious, I'm sure, because, after the second trimester you enter the walrus phase of pregnancy. It's not cute any more; it's just big. But there is something outrageously beautiful about a pregnant woman. A woman with a full term belly is flagrantly, and obviously femenine. She is round and ripe. Her body unapologetically becries her God given destiny to nurture and mother.
Given the choice between the curves of pregant woman and the pre-pubecient twigginess of a runway model, I'd say that a pregant woman's body is more lovely every time.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
It won't go away
This is the 3rd post today... I'm aware. But I haven't posted in awhile and some ideas have been knocking around in my brain. I could use the catharsis.
First, I took Baby to the Doc's today b/c her ear infection is not responding to the antibiotics she's been on. Now, she's on a hefty new one. It took 3 hours to see the doc, get the prescription and get it filled. Ever since her VCUG Baby has been traumatized by doctors. She was hysterical. M and Bub were just plain irritating, and naughty. It sucked.
Did I mention it sucked?
That serves as my preface for the following comments:
I thought that when Baby's adoption was finalized this orphan care/adoption business would go away for me. Annoyingly, it has not. I cannot get these little children out of my head and my heart. And since Baby has come into our home, and I have held her in my arms, I understand what precious treasures are wasting in orphanages, and hospitals, and street corners.
I keep telling Hubby, "I feel like we need to do something." To which he replies, "We are doing something." But Baby isn't an orphan anymore. She's my daughter. And there are so many kids out there languishing. A check just doesn't seem like enough. What can I do? What is God calling us to?
Remember me saying that I can't keep up with my laundry? Remember me saying that going to the doctor with 4 kids really sucked? Having 4 kids is hard. I cannot imagine being a good mom to 5 or 6 (though some people do it exceptionally well). We can't just keep adopting kids. There is a limit to what I can handle.
So what falls between the passivity of writing a check and the sacrifice of adoption a child. What can I do? Because I cannot not do anything -not after I know, not after I've had my eyes opened to the treasure that lays waiting in the fields of the fatherless.
First, I took Baby to the Doc's today b/c her ear infection is not responding to the antibiotics she's been on. Now, she's on a hefty new one. It took 3 hours to see the doc, get the prescription and get it filled. Ever since her VCUG Baby has been traumatized by doctors. She was hysterical. M and Bub were just plain irritating, and naughty. It sucked.
Did I mention it sucked?
That serves as my preface for the following comments:
I thought that when Baby's adoption was finalized this orphan care/adoption business would go away for me. Annoyingly, it has not. I cannot get these little children out of my head and my heart. And since Baby has come into our home, and I have held her in my arms, I understand what precious treasures are wasting in orphanages, and hospitals, and street corners.
I keep telling Hubby, "I feel like we need to do something." To which he replies, "We are doing something." But Baby isn't an orphan anymore. She's my daughter. And there are so many kids out there languishing. A check just doesn't seem like enough. What can I do? What is God calling us to?
Remember me saying that I can't keep up with my laundry? Remember me saying that going to the doctor with 4 kids really sucked? Having 4 kids is hard. I cannot imagine being a good mom to 5 or 6 (though some people do it exceptionally well). We can't just keep adopting kids. There is a limit to what I can handle.
So what falls between the passivity of writing a check and the sacrifice of adoption a child. What can I do? Because I cannot not do anything -not after I know, not after I've had my eyes opened to the treasure that lays waiting in the fields of the fatherless.
Eating Cheap
So am I the only one who's noticed that grocery prices are skyrocketing? In an effort to compensate I Googled "inexpensive dinner ideas". Tons popped up. Most included refrigerator biscuits, tatter-tots, bologna, 80% lean ground beef and cream of mushroom soup. Apparently, hydrogenated oils, saturated fats and perservatives are cheap. That's not a problem if you enjoy clogged arteries, and can eat gluten. But ewww.... So I did another search "HEALTHY inexpensive dinner ideas". That was more helpful. Here are some ideas:
-Baked potato bar night.
-Soup and Salad (soup is cheap, usually helpful and always seems to have leftovers)
-Breakfast for dinner (we like to do fritta, or omlettes...eggs are cheap, a good source of protien and the lecithin compensates for some of the cholesterol - it's good brain food)
-Beans and rice (cajun, mexican, or curried lentils)
-veggie enchiladas
-burritos (sans cruddy fattening meat, and gooey sauce)
-pasta (unless, of course, you're GF, then it'll still cost you $3/bag)
-rice (w/ beans, or grilled chicken or whatever)
-polenta bake
-potato pancakes
-Baked potato bar night.
-Soup and Salad (soup is cheap, usually helpful and always seems to have leftovers)
-Breakfast for dinner (we like to do fritta, or omlettes...eggs are cheap, a good source of protien and the lecithin compensates for some of the cholesterol - it's good brain food)
-Beans and rice (cajun, mexican, or curried lentils)
-veggie enchiladas
-burritos (sans cruddy fattening meat, and gooey sauce)
-pasta (unless, of course, you're GF, then it'll still cost you $3/bag)
-rice (w/ beans, or grilled chicken or whatever)
-polenta bake
-potato pancakes
short
This one may be short. Baby is playing in her crib, but she won't be destracted from breakfast for long.
-We had a annoying round of the stomach flu...no one escaped unscathed.
-I am, again, behind on laundry...oh when was I ever caught up...not since we've been a family of 6.
-We are officially on summer break, though I'm going to try to squeeze in some of our read-alouds, the kid's don't even notice that those are school.
-My vegetable garden has sprouted. Hubby has accused me of gardening addiction. I'm not there yet, but I can see how one could be afflicted. I'm already eyeballing areas of our yard that I want to dig up and create flower beds... just trying to figure out how irritated hubby would be if i ask him to re-work the irrigation system....I'm working up th courage...there could be grumbling and muttering under the breath.
-Pray for me today...I'm going to ask kids to do extra work, and pitch in with the chores...this tends to try my patience and theirs. But I am determined that I'm not the only one who should do the house tending around here. Little people can dust. An 8 year old can push a vacuum. I am not the one who left muddy fingerprints on the windows. My kids will grow up to be competent adults if its the last thing I do....
-E's downstairs making breakfast...I'm suspicious that I should be supervising...Baby thinks she need to eat too.
Hasta
-We had a annoying round of the stomach flu...no one escaped unscathed.
-I am, again, behind on laundry...oh when was I ever caught up...not since we've been a family of 6.
-We are officially on summer break, though I'm going to try to squeeze in some of our read-alouds, the kid's don't even notice that those are school.
-My vegetable garden has sprouted. Hubby has accused me of gardening addiction. I'm not there yet, but I can see how one could be afflicted. I'm already eyeballing areas of our yard that I want to dig up and create flower beds... just trying to figure out how irritated hubby would be if i ask him to re-work the irrigation system....I'm working up th courage...there could be grumbling and muttering under the breath.
-Pray for me today...I'm going to ask kids to do extra work, and pitch in with the chores...this tends to try my patience and theirs. But I am determined that I'm not the only one who should do the house tending around here. Little people can dust. An 8 year old can push a vacuum. I am not the one who left muddy fingerprints on the windows. My kids will grow up to be competent adults if its the last thing I do....
-E's downstairs making breakfast...I'm suspicious that I should be supervising...Baby thinks she need to eat too.
Hasta
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
A life well lived...
Paul Townsend died this morning, and I feel giddy, elated almost. This seems like a bizarrely inappropriate emotion but I can't shake it. There is an image that keeps replaying in my mind:
7:45 AM Paul lying in bed, face misshapen by a tumor, and body ravaged by disease.
Oh, but then 7:46 AM - Paul, body restored, and strong, standing before his Savior, and hearing these words, "Well done, my good and faithful servant." I know this is what he heard, and it gives me chills.
What a juxtaposition. One minute he is living with all that it is crummy and fallen in this world, and the next he is drowning in the pure, unspeakable joy of standing in the presence of God Almighty.
His life was well lived. He knew his purpose, and lived it. He loved his wife, and laid his life down for her. He has 2 grown children, who are a legacy to his fine parenting, and bring honor to the man he was. I am sure that his memorial service will be packed with an intricate web of people who's lives are woven together by the impact that Paul had on them.
He was that kind of man.
On his best day, Paul never looked like a football player. He didn't carry himself with the polish of news anchor. He wasn't even especially charismatic. But there was a strength about Paul that drew people to him. There was a quality about him that changed people who were with him. It must have been Jesus; it had to have been.
I know Paul's family will hear many stories of the impact their dad and husband had on others in the coming days. But I have one too. Paul, wouldn't remember it, I'm sure. But I do. It was important to me.
In the early days of Cornerstone Church we met in a school auditorium. I was a college student, and one Sunday this creepy guy started tagging after me. Cornering me. The next Sunday he brought me bizarre gifts, and again cornered me. No one noticed, and I was totally freaked out. There was something about this guy that made me feel very, very unsafe, but I couldn't name it. So I told Paul, because he was approachable, and I thought he'd take me seriously. He did. He came to my defense. Paul and Gene (our pastor) talked. The police were contacted, and this guy was asked, not to come back to the church. Ever. That day Paul was to me everything that a man should be. He was strong. He was my protector. He was so very, very safe.
I am sad for Martha, because she will have to learn how to be a widow. And she will not grow old with her love. I can't even begin to understand her loss. But in her life she has known the love of a good man, a godly man. How many women can say that?
I am sad for Natalie because her dad won't be there to walk her down the isle, and she will never get to see her dad play with her children. That is a huge loss. But Natalie has known what it is like to be "daddy's little girl". She got to be his princess. She gets to carry that in her heart.
I am sad for Bryan. He's not going to get to shoot hoops with his dad, or watch the Superbowl. But Bryan got to see real masculinity lived out in front of him.
But today I say, "Death, Oh where is your victory, where is your sting. " For in Christ, I know one who has been more than a conqueror.
7:45 AM Paul lying in bed, face misshapen by a tumor, and body ravaged by disease.
Oh, but then 7:46 AM - Paul, body restored, and strong, standing before his Savior, and hearing these words, "Well done, my good and faithful servant." I know this is what he heard, and it gives me chills.
What a juxtaposition. One minute he is living with all that it is crummy and fallen in this world, and the next he is drowning in the pure, unspeakable joy of standing in the presence of God Almighty.
His life was well lived. He knew his purpose, and lived it. He loved his wife, and laid his life down for her. He has 2 grown children, who are a legacy to his fine parenting, and bring honor to the man he was. I am sure that his memorial service will be packed with an intricate web of people who's lives are woven together by the impact that Paul had on them.
He was that kind of man.
On his best day, Paul never looked like a football player. He didn't carry himself with the polish of news anchor. He wasn't even especially charismatic. But there was a strength about Paul that drew people to him. There was a quality about him that changed people who were with him. It must have been Jesus; it had to have been.
I know Paul's family will hear many stories of the impact their dad and husband had on others in the coming days. But I have one too. Paul, wouldn't remember it, I'm sure. But I do. It was important to me.
In the early days of Cornerstone Church we met in a school auditorium. I was a college student, and one Sunday this creepy guy started tagging after me. Cornering me. The next Sunday he brought me bizarre gifts, and again cornered me. No one noticed, and I was totally freaked out. There was something about this guy that made me feel very, very unsafe, but I couldn't name it. So I told Paul, because he was approachable, and I thought he'd take me seriously. He did. He came to my defense. Paul and Gene (our pastor) talked. The police were contacted, and this guy was asked, not to come back to the church. Ever. That day Paul was to me everything that a man should be. He was strong. He was my protector. He was so very, very safe.
I am sad for Martha, because she will have to learn how to be a widow. And she will not grow old with her love. I can't even begin to understand her loss. But in her life she has known the love of a good man, a godly man. How many women can say that?
I am sad for Natalie because her dad won't be there to walk her down the isle, and she will never get to see her dad play with her children. That is a huge loss. But Natalie has known what it is like to be "daddy's little girl". She got to be his princess. She gets to carry that in her heart.
I am sad for Bryan. He's not going to get to shoot hoops with his dad, or watch the Superbowl. But Bryan got to see real masculinity lived out in front of him.
But today I say, "Death, Oh where is your victory, where is your sting. " For in Christ, I know one who has been more than a conqueror.
Monday, May 19, 2008
Do you ever have the feeling that the thing you are about to write isn't gonna be very good, but you have to write it anyway?
Consider yourself warned....
Today was Baby's Formal Presentation. She had a piano recital. Okay, not really. Baby's worker presented all the medical and family history the county has access to. We had a chance to look over all the records. (It took 3 hours; there was a lot). Much of the information we already had access to, or had been told about. But this time we got the whole story, all in one sitting. It was a little overwhelming, really. I came away from the meeting with 2 thoughts. A) I have had such a sheltered, easy life. B) Baby would not have survived infancy if she had been left with her family of origin. And that one, point "B", is disturbing.
I really, really have no concept of how terrible life can get, how hopeless, and chaotic, and desperate a situation can become. But there are people who live it everyday.
Children.
Babies.
In our country.
In our state, only miles away.
And the cruddy thing is that there is a terrible cycle to it. Poverty. Addiction. Illness. Crappy Parenting. No education. REPEAT. And generations suffer.
I hear Baby's story, or Zeke's, or Micayla's, or Ryan's, or Elizabeth's, and I cannot help but wonder why we don't do more to rescue children from the fields of the fatherless. They are priceless treasures. They are worth our very lives, worth Jesus'. Can we not be like Him, and lay down our lives for the least of these.
Consider yourself warned....
Today was Baby's Formal Presentation. She had a piano recital. Okay, not really. Baby's worker presented all the medical and family history the county has access to. We had a chance to look over all the records. (It took 3 hours; there was a lot). Much of the information we already had access to, or had been told about. But this time we got the whole story, all in one sitting. It was a little overwhelming, really. I came away from the meeting with 2 thoughts. A) I have had such a sheltered, easy life. B) Baby would not have survived infancy if she had been left with her family of origin. And that one, point "B", is disturbing.
I really, really have no concept of how terrible life can get, how hopeless, and chaotic, and desperate a situation can become. But there are people who live it everyday.
Children.
Babies.
In our country.
In our state, only miles away.
And the cruddy thing is that there is a terrible cycle to it. Poverty. Addiction. Illness. Crappy Parenting. No education. REPEAT. And generations suffer.
I hear Baby's story, or Zeke's, or Micayla's, or Ryan's, or Elizabeth's, and I cannot help but wonder why we don't do more to rescue children from the fields of the fatherless. They are priceless treasures. They are worth our very lives, worth Jesus'. Can we not be like Him, and lay down our lives for the least of these.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Novel Thought.
I saw a picture of myself the other day. What happened to that 21 year old who looked good in a string bikini? She's vanished, and been replaced by some mom-ish version of her former self. The mom thing I'm okay with; the tummy chub is gross. Yesterday, I actually felt my back fat jiggle. That's sobering, and way beyond gross.
My weight is an area of my life that I cannot seem to balance. I'm either eating 10 grams of fat a day and working out for hours or pounding cookies by the handful. Normal, healthful, non-life consuming eating/excercising patterns escape me most of the time. This is an annoying weakness of mine; an area that I should have it together in, but I don't.
I know this will sound dumb to many of you. But I had a thought. (no that's not the dumb part, keep reading) I'm a thrifty girl. When I buy anything I search for the best price and the best value. I consider quality before making my purchases. Sometimes I don't buy what I want because I cannot afford it, or sometimes I wait to make a purchase until I know I can afford it. I don't consider this a hardship, it's just excercising some wisdom and discipline. Hmm...couldn't these same skills be transfered over to my eating habits? Make wise eating choices, look for calorie bargains, and the best nutritional value. Surely, that cannot be so hard. Maybe it's not an all or nothing proposition, maybe its an issue of balance, and stewardship, discipline.
random tibit:
Today I gardened. I burnt my shoulders, and my muscles are sore, but it was so good. I have a little, somewhat pathetic looking, rock garden with shade flowers.
Don't be decieved, those scrawny, little plants may not look like much now, but they will. There is so much potential for beauty in each one of them. All they need is some time and TLC. I think that's part of what is so satifying about growing a garden from seeds and scrawny plants. I love to watch the transformation (and it takes years, not days or weeks). If God can make a hard and tiny little seed into something wonderful, what can he do with me?
My weight is an area of my life that I cannot seem to balance. I'm either eating 10 grams of fat a day and working out for hours or pounding cookies by the handful. Normal, healthful, non-life consuming eating/excercising patterns escape me most of the time. This is an annoying weakness of mine; an area that I should have it together in, but I don't.
I know this will sound dumb to many of you. But I had a thought. (no that's not the dumb part, keep reading) I'm a thrifty girl. When I buy anything I search for the best price and the best value. I consider quality before making my purchases. Sometimes I don't buy what I want because I cannot afford it, or sometimes I wait to make a purchase until I know I can afford it. I don't consider this a hardship, it's just excercising some wisdom and discipline. Hmm...couldn't these same skills be transfered over to my eating habits? Make wise eating choices, look for calorie bargains, and the best nutritional value. Surely, that cannot be so hard. Maybe it's not an all or nothing proposition, maybe its an issue of balance, and stewardship, discipline.
random tibit:
Today I gardened. I burnt my shoulders, and my muscles are sore, but it was so good. I have a little, somewhat pathetic looking, rock garden with shade flowers.
Don't be decieved, those scrawny, little plants may not look like much now, but they will. There is so much potential for beauty in each one of them. All they need is some time and TLC. I think that's part of what is so satifying about growing a garden from seeds and scrawny plants. I love to watch the transformation (and it takes years, not days or weeks). If God can make a hard and tiny little seed into something wonderful, what can he do with me?
Operation Cupcake Beautification
I had no idea a was so trendy. I thought I was just being practical, but apparently I'm not only practical, but cool. Imagine that!
I thought I'd make cupcakes for Baby's 1st birthday party. It's seemed appropriate and relatively easy. I bought a $6 mix (for all you non-GFers, yes this is the going price - I'm appalled too). It tasted yummy, as it should for that kind of highway robbery. But, sadly, my cupcakes flopped. They were distinctly uncute. (note picture).
I am cheap, and the cupcakes were yummy. So I thought I'd try to redeem my floppy cakes. I went online to do a little research, and lo and behold I discovered that I was cool. Did you know that cupcakes are trendy? Do you have any idea how many blogs are soley devoted to cupcake recipes and decorations. Did you know that little cupcake boutiques are popping up all over the place in trendy and hip neighborhoods. I happened upon trendiness....lucky me.
Anyway, I was inspired by my cyber cupcake research and went about beautifying my unattractive cakes. I used a strategy that women have known about for centuries...if you cannot eliminate the flaw, disguise it, use bold colors and tacky accessories if necessary. I was pleased with my results. (note picture)
Baby liked them too. (note picture)
I thought I'd make cupcakes for Baby's 1st birthday party. It's seemed appropriate and relatively easy. I bought a $6 mix (for all you non-GFers, yes this is the going price - I'm appalled too). It tasted yummy, as it should for that kind of highway robbery. But, sadly, my cupcakes flopped. They were distinctly uncute. (note picture).
I am cheap, and the cupcakes were yummy. So I thought I'd try to redeem my floppy cakes. I went online to do a little research, and lo and behold I discovered that I was cool. Did you know that cupcakes are trendy? Do you have any idea how many blogs are soley devoted to cupcake recipes and decorations. Did you know that little cupcake boutiques are popping up all over the place in trendy and hip neighborhoods. I happened upon trendiness....lucky me.
Anyway, I was inspired by my cyber cupcake research and went about beautifying my unattractive cakes. I used a strategy that women have known about for centuries...if you cannot eliminate the flaw, disguise it, use bold colors and tacky accessories if necessary. I was pleased with my results. (note picture)
Baby liked them too. (note picture)
Friday, May 16, 2008
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Huh?
At breakfast this morning M said, "Mom, I'm not much of a carnival; I only like bacon." HMMM? I think she meant carnivore.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABY
Baby loves blueberry pancakes...so she got her special dish for breakfast on her birthday!!! I think she liked it.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
xy chromosomes
I had sisters.
I don't know much about boys - other than I am suposedly qualified to parent them.
Our oldest is 7 going on 17. He's an old soul, and he understands life on a level I wouldn't expect from a kid his age. Right now he's in this weird 7 year old kid meets adolecence stage. He's angry; he's questioning; he's sleeping in late; he's craving independence. If there are any remaining apron strings he wants them cut. For good. Immediately. He could conquer the world if his dumb mom wasn't standing in the way.
So after praying about this teenage behavior coming from a second grader this is what we've come up with. If it's independence and responsibility he craves then that's what he's gonna get.
So I'm letting him cook more.
His peice de resistance is a mayo, ketchup, mustard quesidilla - I cannot tell you how hard it was to keep my mouth shut while I watched him whip up his masterpeice. He's been using the microwave for awhile now, but I'm starting to let him use the stovetop. I go hyperventilate in the bathroom while he makes us old fashioned oats for breakfast.
Also, we've taught him to use the extra cell phone, and extended the boundaries for his bike riding. A three block radius is his domain. And now we've allowed him to go to the park at the end of the street without an adult...if he takes the phone and his buddy across the street.
Lastly, I've just been giving him a list of to-do's at the beginning of the day. He's got to have his chores and school done before he can play with his friends or watch TV. If he doesn't meet his deadline the penalty is stiff. To my astonishment he's done really well and shown a lot of personal discipline.
Since we've allowed him more freedom and flexibility he has been more cooperative, and worked harder. I'm discovering that boys need to be challenged;they need to be pushed to the very edge of what they can do. The need see if they measure up in the world. They do not appreciate their mothers hovering over them. My son wants to be told to "Be a Man" and "suck it up". He wants to conquer. He wants to protect. He wants danger and adventure.
True story. E went to the park to shoot some hoops with Cross-The-Street-Buddy and Next-Block-Over-Dude. They encountertered Foul-Mouthed-Punk-Kid, who knocked E on his butt and cussed out Next-Block-Over-Dude. Next-Block-Over-Dude challenged Foul-Mouthed-Punk-Kid to a bike race. The deal was that if Next-Block-Over-Dude beat Foul-Mouthed-Punk-Kid then, Punk-Kid would leave the other boys alone. Next-Block-Over won and was thus elevated to hero status.
A few minutes later the 3 boys encountered Adolecent-Basketball-Nazis who ran them off the basketball court - claiming it was their turf. Hello this is suburbia, we do not live in the 'hood - there is no "turf".
These are exactly the kind of experiences that make me want to never ever let my children out of my sight.
E was stoked. He thought it was great. Came in gave me a huge hug and rehashed the whole deal in detail. I think he was a bit naive. But he loved the danger of the whole thing. It was real life good guys / bad guys.
My boys will grow up to be men. And I don't want them to be pansies. I want them to be men of faith, and courage and integrity. Eddie and I need to call them to it, and its scary to let my 7 year old be a man. Maybe this is a little bit of my Dangerous Surrender.
I don't know much about boys - other than I am suposedly qualified to parent them.
Our oldest is 7 going on 17. He's an old soul, and he understands life on a level I wouldn't expect from a kid his age. Right now he's in this weird 7 year old kid meets adolecence stage. He's angry; he's questioning; he's sleeping in late; he's craving independence. If there are any remaining apron strings he wants them cut. For good. Immediately. He could conquer the world if his dumb mom wasn't standing in the way.
So after praying about this teenage behavior coming from a second grader this is what we've come up with. If it's independence and responsibility he craves then that's what he's gonna get.
So I'm letting him cook more.
His peice de resistance is a mayo, ketchup, mustard quesidilla - I cannot tell you how hard it was to keep my mouth shut while I watched him whip up his masterpeice. He's been using the microwave for awhile now, but I'm starting to let him use the stovetop. I go hyperventilate in the bathroom while he makes us old fashioned oats for breakfast.
Also, we've taught him to use the extra cell phone, and extended the boundaries for his bike riding. A three block radius is his domain. And now we've allowed him to go to the park at the end of the street without an adult...if he takes the phone and his buddy across the street.
Lastly, I've just been giving him a list of to-do's at the beginning of the day. He's got to have his chores and school done before he can play with his friends or watch TV. If he doesn't meet his deadline the penalty is stiff. To my astonishment he's done really well and shown a lot of personal discipline.
Since we've allowed him more freedom and flexibility he has been more cooperative, and worked harder. I'm discovering that boys need to be challenged;they need to be pushed to the very edge of what they can do. The need see if they measure up in the world. They do not appreciate their mothers hovering over them. My son wants to be told to "Be a Man" and "suck it up". He wants to conquer. He wants to protect. He wants danger and adventure.
True story. E went to the park to shoot some hoops with Cross-The-Street-Buddy and Next-Block-Over-Dude. They encountertered Foul-Mouthed-Punk-Kid, who knocked E on his butt and cussed out Next-Block-Over-Dude. Next-Block-Over-Dude challenged Foul-Mouthed-Punk-Kid to a bike race. The deal was that if Next-Block-Over-Dude beat Foul-Mouthed-Punk-Kid then, Punk-Kid would leave the other boys alone. Next-Block-Over won and was thus elevated to hero status.
A few minutes later the 3 boys encountered Adolecent-Basketball-Nazis who ran them off the basketball court - claiming it was their turf. Hello this is suburbia, we do not live in the 'hood - there is no "turf".
These are exactly the kind of experiences that make me want to never ever let my children out of my sight.
E was stoked. He thought it was great. Came in gave me a huge hug and rehashed the whole deal in detail. I think he was a bit naive. But he loved the danger of the whole thing. It was real life good guys / bad guys.
My boys will grow up to be men. And I don't want them to be pansies. I want them to be men of faith, and courage and integrity. Eddie and I need to call them to it, and its scary to let my 7 year old be a man. Maybe this is a little bit of my Dangerous Surrender.
Monday, May 12, 2008
The Long Defeat
Ever since I read "Angels of a Lower Flight" I've been curious about Haiti. I ran across the blog of a family living in rural Haiti running a mission. The woman is a good writer and takes great photography, but that isn't what intrigued me. What got me was their ordinariness. They were just people. They adopted from Haiti and Haiti wouldn't let go. Now they are serving the poor in their children's homeland. They're not super spiritual, and she doesn't wear a denim jumper. They have no degrees in theology, or training in international relations.
They just went. God called. They went.
So how is it you go from being a suburban white family in the Twin Cities, to adoptiong black kids from the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere? They are a family of 9 now, and they decided to uproot and move to Haiti. They just sold their house. They're commited.
One of this woman's posts was about "The Long Defeat". She admits that NGOs and missionaries have long been in Haiti. They have made little headway in the face of poverty, corruption, and spiritual darkness. It appears to be a losing game. But she says she's in it for the duration, the long defeat.
There is an old hymn that says, "though He slay me yet will I follow..." The words are archaic, but the poetry remains. There is something about this Jesus that walking with Him worth whatever price.
My friend, Cheryl, is in China right now. She is there adopting a 4 year old little girl with significant special needs. It's been a scary journey for their family, and the work is really only beginning. Cheryl said that she has found comfort in the Bible story about 3 buddies who would not bow to the king.
If you're "churcified" you know that I'm talking about Shadrack, Meshack, and Abednago (who knows how their names are really spelled, but bear with me.) The story goes that the king (Darius, I think) decided to build this huge statue of himself and required all the citizens to bow down and pay homage to him as a god. Rack, Shack, and Benny refused; Darius was furious. He ordered a gigantic oven to be stoked to blazing hot and then ordered the 3 guys to be tossed in.
"Oh King," said Rack, Shack and Benny, "our God is able to save us from the flames, but we want you to know that even if he does not, we won't bow to your statue."
So the guys get tossed in, and a miracle happens. The king and his royal dudes look into the fire and see not three guys, but four, walking around amidst the flames. Darius, call out Rack, Shack and Benny from the fire, and amazingly they don't even smell smoky. Darius is put to shame, and decides to honor the one true God.
Cheryl's take away: God shows up when you choose to walk into the flames.
Cheryl and Tim, The Hatian missionaries, Susie Krabacher, Kay Warren, and others have leapt with abandon into the risky business of caring for people. They are walking into the fire; the are in it for the long defeat. And, I am sure, they will encounter God in ways that people who never leap do.
I have another aquaintence, who has basically bagged his faith. He admits there's probably a god, but it's not YHWY, the God of the Bible. He has done his intellectual homework, and has a solid defense, I'm sure. But the deal, as far as I see it, is that you will defend what you believe. If I truly believed that human beings were grown by pink aliens to inhabit the planet earth I bet I could come up with some semi-plausible evidence to defend my position. Faith isn't an intellectual pursuit. It's walking into the fire, and encountering God on a personal level.
That's when you know God is real.
They just went. God called. They went.
So how is it you go from being a suburban white family in the Twin Cities, to adoptiong black kids from the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere? They are a family of 9 now, and they decided to uproot and move to Haiti. They just sold their house. They're commited.
One of this woman's posts was about "The Long Defeat". She admits that NGOs and missionaries have long been in Haiti. They have made little headway in the face of poverty, corruption, and spiritual darkness. It appears to be a losing game. But she says she's in it for the duration, the long defeat.
There is an old hymn that says, "though He slay me yet will I follow..." The words are archaic, but the poetry remains. There is something about this Jesus that walking with Him worth whatever price.
My friend, Cheryl, is in China right now. She is there adopting a 4 year old little girl with significant special needs. It's been a scary journey for their family, and the work is really only beginning. Cheryl said that she has found comfort in the Bible story about 3 buddies who would not bow to the king.
If you're "churcified" you know that I'm talking about Shadrack, Meshack, and Abednago (who knows how their names are really spelled, but bear with me.) The story goes that the king (Darius, I think) decided to build this huge statue of himself and required all the citizens to bow down and pay homage to him as a god. Rack, Shack, and Benny refused; Darius was furious. He ordered a gigantic oven to be stoked to blazing hot and then ordered the 3 guys to be tossed in.
"Oh King," said Rack, Shack and Benny, "our God is able to save us from the flames, but we want you to know that even if he does not, we won't bow to your statue."
So the guys get tossed in, and a miracle happens. The king and his royal dudes look into the fire and see not three guys, but four, walking around amidst the flames. Darius, call out Rack, Shack and Benny from the fire, and amazingly they don't even smell smoky. Darius is put to shame, and decides to honor the one true God.
Cheryl's take away: God shows up when you choose to walk into the flames.
Cheryl and Tim, The Hatian missionaries, Susie Krabacher, Kay Warren, and others have leapt with abandon into the risky business of caring for people. They are walking into the fire; the are in it for the long defeat. And, I am sure, they will encounter God in ways that people who never leap do.
I have another aquaintence, who has basically bagged his faith. He admits there's probably a god, but it's not YHWY, the God of the Bible. He has done his intellectual homework, and has a solid defense, I'm sure. But the deal, as far as I see it, is that you will defend what you believe. If I truly believed that human beings were grown by pink aliens to inhabit the planet earth I bet I could come up with some semi-plausible evidence to defend my position. Faith isn't an intellectual pursuit. It's walking into the fire, and encountering God on a personal level.
That's when you know God is real.
Mother's Night
Mother's Day was perfect, and then the puking began. 10:30 PM I heard an unmistakable sound coming from the kids' bathroom. M was SICK. She vommited hourly from 10:30 - 5:30. We went through 3 sets of sheets, and 3 jammies. We took a midnight bath and did laundry at 1 AM. To say that I did not sleep well would be an understatement. It actually seemed like a fitting end to Mother's Day...you gotta expect that being a mom will require some sleepless nights, and vomit clean-up duty.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Mothers' Day
Today was perfectly delightful.
-I woke up to breakfast in bed (hot coffee, a shrimp omlette, fruit salad and the plate was even garnished with cilantro). Yum.
-I stayed in bed until 10 AM - I probably haven't done that since college.
-We took the kids to the Orchards and had the kids "Build a Bear" for Abby for her birthday. The bear is actually a stuffed puppy - it's so soft and Abby loves it. The kids are quite proud of themselves.
-I sat on the front porch enjoying my flower bed and chatting with my amazing husband.
-We grilled these amazing burgers (with goat cheese) for dinner. We also grilled asparagus and munched on potato chips. Hubby bought some GF beer. I haven't had a beer in years; it was delicious. I sqeezed half a lime in mine - just the way I like it.
-Hubby put up the hammock in the back yard and I watched the Aspen leaves dance in the wind while my sweet husband got the kids in bed.
Today was a sweet.
On the other side of the world tonight two of my friends are waiting to meet their little girls. They are in China, and today is the day that all that paperwork will pay off. Two little girls who didn't have mommies have mommies today.
Last year on Mother's Day Baby was born, and two days later she came home.
Mother's Day is a good thing....
-I woke up to breakfast in bed (hot coffee, a shrimp omlette, fruit salad and the plate was even garnished with cilantro). Yum.
-I stayed in bed until 10 AM - I probably haven't done that since college.
-We took the kids to the Orchards and had the kids "Build a Bear" for Abby for her birthday. The bear is actually a stuffed puppy - it's so soft and Abby loves it. The kids are quite proud of themselves.
-I sat on the front porch enjoying my flower bed and chatting with my amazing husband.
-We grilled these amazing burgers (with goat cheese) for dinner. We also grilled asparagus and munched on potato chips. Hubby bought some GF beer. I haven't had a beer in years; it was delicious. I sqeezed half a lime in mine - just the way I like it.
-Hubby put up the hammock in the back yard and I watched the Aspen leaves dance in the wind while my sweet husband got the kids in bed.
Today was a sweet.
On the other side of the world tonight two of my friends are waiting to meet their little girls. They are in China, and today is the day that all that paperwork will pay off. Two little girls who didn't have mommies have mommies today.
Last year on Mother's Day Baby was born, and two days later she came home.
Mother's Day is a good thing....
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Lessons Learned
-If you know you have a sinus infection don't wait 2 weeks before getting on anti-biotics, unless you are a glutton for punishment and you actually enjoy headaches.
-Babiess don't sleep in late even if they are up past their bedtime. You need to be prepared to get up at 6 even if you have a headache.
-It's handy to have a squirmy, noisy 1 year old when attending a long drawn out school performance. People don't even think you're being rude when you leave at intermission right after your son performed. (My dad used to bring computer magazines to our piano recitlals, much to my Mom's chagrin, but Dad I get it, and I'm with you.)
-There is a cute little coffee shop/juice bar by Westminster Promanade.
-Orange and Purple look good together in a flowerbed; they look less good on a 6 year old trying to make a fashion statement.
-Babiess don't sleep in late even if they are up past their bedtime. You need to be prepared to get up at 6 even if you have a headache.
-It's handy to have a squirmy, noisy 1 year old when attending a long drawn out school performance. People don't even think you're being rude when you leave at intermission right after your son performed. (My dad used to bring computer magazines to our piano recitlals, much to my Mom's chagrin, but Dad I get it, and I'm with you.)
-There is a cute little coffee shop/juice bar by Westminster Promanade.
-Orange and Purple look good together in a flowerbed; they look less good on a 6 year old trying to make a fashion statement.
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Springtime
I love spring.
It's this time of year that my kids' jeans start looking like high-waters, and get holes in the knees. It's this time of year when I go to buy my kids sandals and discover that their toes have been crammed up against the ends of their tennis shoes for weeks. They're growing like proverbial weeds. I sit on the couch reading with my daughter, who in Septemeber just knew her letter sounds, and I am reminded how the seasons fly by.
Several years ago my mom, dad, sisters and I leased a plot in a community garden. By August we had zuchinni coming out our ears. And I was utterly amazed to see that the seeds we planted in May actually grew. I was dumbstruck that 1 little seed could produce countless summer squash. It's miraculous. My previous experience with aquiring produce had been limited to the outside isles of the supermarket; this was uncharted territory. But I was hooked. Now I've got a flower bed and a vegetable garden of my own. And I am still amazed that planting seeds works.
So welcome to our spring...
Saturday, May 3, 2008
Centerfold
I gotta stop reading this stuff.
Seriously - It's gonna cost me everything.
Everything.
2 more book reports for the brave of heart.
1st: Velvet Elvis by Rob Bell. Good stuff. I felt myself wanting to say, "You go.." and "Preach it Brother!" every other page or so. Bell articulates many of my gripes with right wing conservative Christians in a compelling, artfully crafted way. If James Dobson is your hero don't bother reading this one, you'll just get your panties in a wad. But if your looking for a well written, thought provoking book this one is a must read.
But as good as Velvet Elvis was, it is the story of a Playboy Centerfold that challenged me most. Susie Scott Krabacher wrote an autobiography that I found riveting. I read the whole thing in one day...and I have a gigantic pile of unfolded laundry to prove it. It's called "Angels of a Lower Flight".
In the first half of the book Krabacher tells the story of her abusive childhood and her "rise" to fame as a Playboy Centerfold. It's interesting, and it sets the foundation for the second half of the book. But it is the second half that won't let me go, the second half that I fear will cost me everything.
By Divine Coincidence Susie watched a fund raising infomercial about Sewer Children in Mongolia, which oddly enough, led her to Haiti. And it's in Haiti that Susie found her healing.
To say that Haiti is poverty stricken is an understatement. To call it, "Hell on Earth" is not overstating the situation. Susie says that she has come to understand that that there are more demons inhabiting the island than people. It is a darkly oppressed, desperately poor place.
Squalor.
And this is the place that brought healing.
Susie and her husband, Joe, began a non-profit organization to rescue the children of Haiti. They began orphanages, and feeding homes, and partnered with the government to care for little ones left to die in the abandoned children's ward of a public hospital. The stories are astounding and heart wrentching. You must read the book.
On the last pages of her book Krabacher speaks of the suffering she has endured on behalf of the some 3,400 Haitian Children in her care. She says, "Why would anyone ask to enter into suffering? I want that kind of life, crazy as it sounds. What we suffer for another is truly the mark of love...I understand more of that now. How easy it is to seek fulfillment within the sphere of people and things that can be seen. But our souls are never satisfied with this.
...Here is my Peace:
There is a Love that is joy and beauty. So many of my friends, so many of my children, have found this Love. Their story is for eternity and has only just begun. "
Several years ago I was looking through an old hymnal. There was a trend I hadn't noticed before. The last stanza of nearly every hymn focused on Heaven. Perhaps it's just a literary tradition. Perhaps, not. Have we lost something? Are we so comfortable and so focused on making our lives comfortable here and now we have lost sight of eternity? This is Act I. There is more to come.
Personally, I think we've done a pretty crappy sales pitch on Heaven. If we all have to wear white robes, and it's just one big endless church service I cannot think of one 7 year old boy who would pick Heaven over Hell. Who would? Okay, that's my little rabbit trail (read "Heaven" by Randy Alcorn for more on this.)
But the point is both Susie Krabacher, and Kay Warren decided to surrender their lives to Christ on behalf of others. Both of these women say that they wouldn't trade their choice for anything; that their experiences has been rich and purposeful. It has also been pain-filled. They have suffered on behalf of others, they have deliberately walked into pain and their lives have been the better for it. So counter-intuitive. Especially, so in my suburban culture.
The Bible says I must lose my life to find it. And if this is true it will cost me everything.
Seriously - It's gonna cost me everything.
Everything.
2 more book reports for the brave of heart.
1st: Velvet Elvis by Rob Bell. Good stuff. I felt myself wanting to say, "You go.." and "Preach it Brother!" every other page or so. Bell articulates many of my gripes with right wing conservative Christians in a compelling, artfully crafted way. If James Dobson is your hero don't bother reading this one, you'll just get your panties in a wad. But if your looking for a well written, thought provoking book this one is a must read.
But as good as Velvet Elvis was, it is the story of a Playboy Centerfold that challenged me most. Susie Scott Krabacher wrote an autobiography that I found riveting. I read the whole thing in one day...and I have a gigantic pile of unfolded laundry to prove it. It's called "Angels of a Lower Flight".
In the first half of the book Krabacher tells the story of her abusive childhood and her "rise" to fame as a Playboy Centerfold. It's interesting, and it sets the foundation for the second half of the book. But it is the second half that won't let me go, the second half that I fear will cost me everything.
By Divine Coincidence Susie watched a fund raising infomercial about Sewer Children in Mongolia, which oddly enough, led her to Haiti. And it's in Haiti that Susie found her healing.
To say that Haiti is poverty stricken is an understatement. To call it, "Hell on Earth" is not overstating the situation. Susie says that she has come to understand that that there are more demons inhabiting the island than people. It is a darkly oppressed, desperately poor place.
Squalor.
And this is the place that brought healing.
Susie and her husband, Joe, began a non-profit organization to rescue the children of Haiti. They began orphanages, and feeding homes, and partnered with the government to care for little ones left to die in the abandoned children's ward of a public hospital. The stories are astounding and heart wrentching. You must read the book.
On the last pages of her book Krabacher speaks of the suffering she has endured on behalf of the some 3,400 Haitian Children in her care. She says, "Why would anyone ask to enter into suffering? I want that kind of life, crazy as it sounds. What we suffer for another is truly the mark of love...I understand more of that now. How easy it is to seek fulfillment within the sphere of people and things that can be seen. But our souls are never satisfied with this.
...Here is my Peace:
There is a Love that is joy and beauty. So many of my friends, so many of my children, have found this Love. Their story is for eternity and has only just begun. "
Several years ago I was looking through an old hymnal. There was a trend I hadn't noticed before. The last stanza of nearly every hymn focused on Heaven. Perhaps it's just a literary tradition. Perhaps, not. Have we lost something? Are we so comfortable and so focused on making our lives comfortable here and now we have lost sight of eternity? This is Act I. There is more to come.
Personally, I think we've done a pretty crappy sales pitch on Heaven. If we all have to wear white robes, and it's just one big endless church service I cannot think of one 7 year old boy who would pick Heaven over Hell. Who would? Okay, that's my little rabbit trail (read "Heaven" by Randy Alcorn for more on this.)
But the point is both Susie Krabacher, and Kay Warren decided to surrender their lives to Christ on behalf of others. Both of these women say that they wouldn't trade their choice for anything; that their experiences has been rich and purposeful. It has also been pain-filled. They have suffered on behalf of others, they have deliberately walked into pain and their lives have been the better for it. So counter-intuitive. Especially, so in my suburban culture.
The Bible says I must lose my life to find it. And if this is true it will cost me everything.
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