Easter Story Cookies March 22, 2008

Oh, and here’s our Easter Story Cookie RecipeDLTK’s Bible Activities for Kids
Easter Story Cookies

My neighbor gave me this recipe, but I found it by searcing, too.

EASTER STORY COOKIES 

To be made the evening before Easter

	1cup whole pecans
	1tsp vinegar
	3 egg whites
	pinch salt
	1 cup sugar
	zipper baggie
	wooden spoon
	tape
	Bible

Preheat oven to 300 degrees (this is important, don’t wait till you’re half done with the recipe!)Place pecans in zipper baggie and let children beat them with the wooden spoon to break into small pieces.  Explain that after Jesus was arrested, He was Beaten by the Roman soldiers.  Read John 19:1-3.

Let each child smell the vinegar.  Put 1tsp vinegar into mixing bowl.  Explain that when Jesus was thirsty on the cross, He was given vinegar to drink.  Read John 19:28-30.

Add egg whites to vinegar.  Eggs represent life.  Explain that Jesus gave His life to give us life.  Read John 10:10-11.

Sprinkle a little salt into each child’s hand.  Let them taste it and brush the rest into the bowl.  Explain that this represents the salty tears shed by Jesus’ followers, and the bitterness of our own sin.  Read Luke 23:27.

So far, the ingredients are not very appetizing.  Add 1 cup sugar.

Explain that the sweetest part of the story is that Jesus died because He loves us.  He wants us to know and belong to Him.  Read Psalm 34:8 and John 3:16.

Beat with a mixer on high speed for 12 to 15 minutes until stiff peaks are formed.  Explain that the color white represents the purity in God’s eyes of those whose sins have been cleansed by Jesus.  Read Isaiah 1:18 and John 3:1-3.

Fold in broken nuts.  Drop by teaspoons onto wax paper covered cookie sheet.  Explain that each mound represents the rocky tomb where Jesus’ body was laid.  Read Matthew 27:57-60.

 Put the cookie sheet in the oven, close the door and turn the oven OFF.  Give each child a piece of tape and seal the oven door.  Explain that Jesus’ tomb was sealed.  Read Matthew 27:65-66.

GO TO BED!  Explain that they may feel sad to leave the cookies in the oven overnight.  Jesus’ followers were in despair when the tomb was sealed.  Read John 16:20 and 22.

On Easter morning, open the oven and give everyone a cookie.  Notice the cracked surface and take a bite.  The cookies are hollow!  On the first Easter, Jesus’ followers were amazed to find the tomb open and empty.  Read Matthew 28:1-9.
 Copied from here

No Easter Bunny ‘Round hare… March 22, 2008

Nope.  Just like Santa, the big fluffy guy is seriously a distraction from the meaning of the holiday. Which is the death of Christ.  I don’t post a lot about my spiritual beliefs here, but I’m sure they are evident.   I believe Easter is the most important day of the year. The remembrance of the death of Christ is much more important than his birth, because his death is what gives us freedom. 

To find out where he came from, read this.  

 Easter Bunny

On Thursday night we had 3 couples over for dinner, prayer and communion.  The idea being that ‘The Last Supper’ (the Thursday before Easter) was Christ with his friends sharing a simple meal of wine and bread and then he didn’t eat again until he rose on Sunday.  So that was the last thing we ate.  I did have one cup of coffee with milk yesterday and I made some apple/orange juice this morning and had about 6 ounces. 
Ironically, I had to make 2 huge batches of muffins and a batch of chocolate overload cookies yesterday, all while not eating.  It wasn’t really that bad.  And today I have to make 2 cakes to take to dinner tomorrow, and we are making Easter Story Cookies with the kids.
I’ve always had a hard time fasting because I’m hypoglycemic.  It really hasn’t been a problem this time and I’m actually enjoying the experience of reading the bible and meditating at mealtimes instead of eating.  Part of me actually wants to start fasting on a more regular basis because it’s so calming.  Haven’t really felt hungry yet, but I may by tonight.

  We’ve read the stages from Palm Sunday to the cross to the kids and Selah keeps begging us to go ahead and read the end, even though she knows what happens. It’s precious.  We will read the resurrection tomorrow morning and have a ‘celebration’ over breakfast.   Tonight Travis and I will watch ‘The Passion of The Christ’ after the kids go to bed.  Tomorrow we will have lunch with my family and dinner with his. 

So, that’s our Easter process. What’s yours?

Do You Believe We Have The Right? March 8, 2008

Got this from a friend. If you believe we should have a right to homeschool, please go and sign!  You don’t have to WANT to homeschool to believe that we have the right!
———————

This is really outrageous. I feel for the homeschooling families in California. If you go to the HSLDA site http://www.hslda.org you can sign the petition to depublish the recent case in California. This is all explained on the HSLDA site – spouses can sign separately.

Dear Fellow Homeschooler,

Many of you have already heard about the recent ruling in CA requiring all home school families to have a state teaching certificate in order to continue homeschooling. This virtually outlaws homeschooling in that state. It could also set a precedent for other states to follow if we do not act. Dr. Dobson addressed this issue in his daily broadcast yesterday. I have enclosed the link so you may listen as he talks with several experts on the repercussions of this case.

There is something we can do about this! We can sign a petition put out by HSLDA to stop this decision from becoming law in CA. You will be helping your fellow homeschoolers in CA and eventually all homeschoolers in America. To sign the petition simply go to the HSLDA website. The link to the petition is currently on their home page.

Please stand together with us to fight this terrible offense. Feel free to forward this email to all of your home school friends to get the word out and take action.

Sincerely,

Audrey Britt
President, Home Front Educators

Of Mice and Media March 8, 2008

I distinctly remember a conversation that Travis and I had with another couple when we were preggers with our first, Selah.  Somehow we had gotten on the subject of children’s media and they were incredulous at our intention of keeping it bare bones in our house. 

Them: Well, aren’t you going to let them watch the Simpsons? (insert look of amazement)

US: Ummm.. Heck no.

Them: There’s nothing wrong with the Simpsons. It’s hilarious!  Our kids are gonna love the Simpsons! Don’t tell me your going to be one of those ‘Disney is Evil.’ families!  (I almost stepped aside to look in the mirror to be sure that I hadn’t actually grown two heads)

Us:  Well, the thing of it is…

Yes, the thing of it is… what is the thing of it.  Simpsons.  Yes, it’s funny.  Seriously clever and entertaining. But honestly?  Mom’s a wimp and off in lala land.  Dad’s a lazy bum that certainly isn’t the best example for his kids.  Bart, totally undisciplined and disrespectful.  Lisa, unchallenged and unvalidated.  Maggie…whatever.  Dude, go for it. Watch the Simpsons.  I’ll watch it now and then and laugh.  But I’m not going to let a 3 year old that is just learning how to be respectful and interact with others watch that.   It plants seeds that I don’t want and I have enough weeding and pruning to do on my sweet little guys.  I’m not up for adding that into my workload.  You go for it.  That discussion was about 5 1/2 years ago.  As far as I can see, the other couple’s kids are pretty great.  I’ve never asked if they actually let them watch the Simpsons.  It’s just not that big of a deal to me.  When they get older?  Maybe. Doubt it, but maybe.

Now Disney. That’s just downright evil from the pit of hell. Oh, I so crack myself up sometimes.  There was a huge ‘boycott Disney’ movement when I was growing up.  Maybe it’s still around?  Surprisingly enough my parents didn’t get too active in it. They’d already cut out so many things that they had Disney covered long before the boycott started.  I never say scooby doo until after I was married.  I still don’t think I’ve ever really seen the Smurfs.  My father still swears that smurf means ‘little demon’ in Swedish or something.  We seriously weren’t allowed to watch just about anything.  Except the Cosby Show, Little House on The Prairie, Mash, Night Rider and McGyver.  The last three because my father loved them and his short lived stance against the media for kids wasn’t as strong as his desire to watch HIS favorite shows.  No TiVo back then.

Ok, back to Disney. I don’t hate The Mouse, but I don’t let my kids watch Disney, I think.  I say I think because it’s more about individual movies.  These movies are made by some seriously talented people and I enjoy them.  But children see things so differently. They see a movie one timeand they’re consumed with the desire to BE the princess or the hero. They long for the romance that they don’t understand and aren’t ready for.  They see the villains and monsters and their little hearts haven’t yet learned to distinguish between reality and fantasy.  Think about Sleeping Beauty or The Little Mermaid.  The witches are terrifying! Not just because their witches and witches are eeeevvviillll.   They morph into these huge monsters with sounds and flashes and …terror!  It’s the picture that I don’t want to be putting into their little minds.  Their innocence is only intact as long as I protect it.  And at this point we prefer to limit their exposure to things that are a little more on the realistic side of fantasy. None of them seems scared by our oppressive parenting so far.

 But I’m also very big on giving our children choices. Because, whether we as parents like it or not, they always have a choice. And “because I said so” can be a slippery slope of uneducation that I don’t want my kids to slide down.  So, I spend a lot of time explaining their choices.

Last week Selah saw a copy of Sleeping Beauty and was just begging to see it.  The child was batting her eyelashes with a sweet little tilt to her head. She looked up at me with those big brown eyes…. “Please let me see it, Momma.”  So I sat down with her in my lap for a talk. 

Me: Why do you want to watch this movie, Love?

Selah: Because I want to watch the Princess and see the castle! It looks beautiful.

Me: She is beautiful, but this movie is a little bit scary. There is a mean witch in this movie that wants to kill Sleeping Beauty. She’s mean and hateful. She throws fire and turns into a dragon and destroys things especially trying to kill the prince that is coming to save the princess. It gets really loud and confusing with lots of fire and the big dragon. I’m worried that if you watch this you will have those pictures in your head and your heart, and they will make you afraid when you think of them. They will give you bad dreams in the night when you could have had good dreams without those pictures in your head.

Selah: Oh…. stares off with her brow creased in concern.

Me: Selah, Do you still want to watch the movie?

Selah: No thanks, Momma. I’m going to go play with my dollhouse. Maybe I can watch it when I’m 10. And off she gallops to sweet playtime adventure.

Now, had she said yes I would have talked to Travis and we may have sat down and watched it with her, asking her how it made her feel at intense intervals to see how she fared. I have no doubt that she would have asked to turn it off at some point.

So, the TV is hardly ever on around here, but I don’t go around saying the TV is sinful.  I do love that instead of begging for, well, I don’t know any shows really… my 5 and 3 year old will sit side by side for an hour at the dining room table doing puzzles.   They haven’t seen a lot of the popular movies and didn’t understand most of the costumes on Halloween that kids wore pertaining to their favorite characters.  My kiddos begged to dress up as Dorothy and The Tin Man because that’s what we were reading at the time.  See, they get some fantasy. But, I still wouldn’t let them watch the ‘Wizard of Oz’ for quite awhile.

I have found that the Pixar movies are generally pretty good.  See, I’m not totally off my rocker.  They don’t have the romantic themes and, while fantastic, they’re more realistic?  The kids were just allowed to watch Toy Story at a friend’s house.  My son immediately decided he is Buzz Lightyear.  I have to say that it confirmed my conviction a bit. If they are at a stage where they are going to take on the personalities of what they watch, I’d better get some good stuff into that DVD player for them to copy!

Anyway, I’m now rambling for no reason. I’m sure you get my point.  I’d love to see some suggestions for good movies for kids to grow on.  The current favorites are Charlotte’s Web, Mary Poppins, Sound of Music and Evan Almighty, followed by any Veggie Tales they can get their hands on.   Think about it for a second and post a comment letting me know what movies you want your kids to act like? 

Oh… Just to Pee in Private Again! March 5, 2008

I patiently hold it as I nudge Lucas through the door.  Right as I have him safely cleared Jacob rushes past me and vaults up the step-stool screaming “I need to wash my hands.  Dare Durrtee, Momma.”  Ok.  Patience.  Breath.  Just a minute.  Quickly, I scrub in to join the handwashing procedure, hoping that assisting will shorten the time.  Before he turns the faucet off, his favorite part of course, I have the towel in hand and I’m drying him off (head to toe) frantically.  Right. He’s out the door.  I’m alone.  I may now sit and do what I need to do in peace.  At least I think.  In comes Selah who proudly makes my business public with her ‘defecation proclamation’.  Oh the shame.  This is worse than when she would fake puke into public toilets when I was pregnant with Jacob.  That’s what they were for, right?

 It’s not often that mom’s get privacy.  A few stolen moments in the bathroom.  A trip to the mailbox or, if you’re lucky, the grocery store.  A brief reprieve at naptime.  It doesn’t add up to much time to, well, be.  On one hand, I find it frustrating to hear a list of things we deserve as moms.  A list that sounds like a ‘To Do’s’ for the pampered princess who feels entitled to whatever she wants.  On the other hand I’m apt to ignore the needs of my body and psyche for regeneration, pushing myself to the edge of sanity and back again several times each day.  I know no rest.

So, like everything else,  I find the need to examine my ‘momstincts’. Where’s the happy medium between selfish entitlement and grinding ourselves to nothing.  Where do I fall on the scale between two extremes? 

 Now, I can find justification for just about anything I decide I ‘feel’ at the moment.  Can’t you?  When I have a pity party I find the friend that will always poor baby me.  When I’m pissed, validation of my angst is only a call away.  When I need that little ‘Oh, don’t worry. You DESERVE it.’ another friend can be found at the click of a mouse.  Basically what I’m saying is that we can find support for whatever we want to.  But is that the right thing? 

I think this one comes down to self awareness.  I know the difference between condemnation and conviction.   Condemnation is shaming.  It’s unjust pressure and fear.  Conviction is what comes when the truth hurts.  When enlightenment is knocking at the door to push us into deeper knowledge of truth.  Conviction is the reminder that you’re potential is so much greater than what you just did. 

So, which is it?  Do I feel condemnation for harboring thoughts of time alone?  Is the reality that the thoughts are healthy and I should be working towards carving out a few moments to exhale?  Or is it a conviction that I really have the time and I’m using it unwisely and complaining too much.  That if I had more patience with my kids and kept the house clean on a more regular basis I wouldn’t feel the urge to escape from it.

 These are the things I’ve pondered today.  A day when I haven’t been to the bathroom once alone.  And I’ve picked up toys with my kids over and over, yet didn’t play with them as much as I could have because the phone stole my attention.  I avoided the dishes because I’m just sick of  standing at that sink.

So the answer to THE question?  Is my heart condemned or convicted?  The honest truth is that the questions are the same but the answer changes daily.  Hourly, even.  And today it’s a little bit of both.  So I’m releasing the condemnation. It’s useless and shaming.  The conviction?  I think we’ll play more tomorrow.  I need it as much as they do.

Down. Not a Place To Be On A Beautiful Day. March 1, 2008

So, I’m in a funk.  A little depressed.  I’ve no where to go.  It’s absolutely gorgeous outside.  We went and played tag with the kids at the park and I couldn’t stop closing my eyes to breath deep.  I love the promise of spring.

The boys are sleeping in their room. Selah is napping on my bed.  Poor Travis is exhausted and sawing logs on the couch.  Me?  I could seriously use a nap.  I’ve hardly slept all week.  I’m sitting in a corner because there is nowhere else to go in this itty bitty house of ours. I’d love to sleep, but I’m being girlie and depressed.  Emotions have been churning this week.  I’ve decided maybe it’s time to think through them, so here I go.

I have a problem with confrontation. Not that I don’t like it.  I actually enjoy it.  I love a good debate on just about anything from diapers to presidential candidates.  I love it when someone actually talks to me about something that I did wrong, rather than hold a grudge or tell everyone else.  I call my home a ‘no-gossip zone’.  I try not to say things that I would not say directly to someone.  It just happens to be that I will be direct about things others wouldn’t dream of.  So, well…I can be a bit of a shock.

My problem isn’t actual confrontation. It’s the fear and pain of NO confrontation.  Of no resolution.  The tension of not being open.  Several months ago on my personal blog I posted some frustration I was working through from the effects of a very unhealthy, toxic friendship. Writing it out is how I deal, so that’s what I did.  Someone got on and commented as ‘anonymous’ and completely misjudged the post or chose to see it differently.  Now, I had no problem with them not agreeing, and I can take criticism. But how the heck do you respond like that to someone and be so cowardly to do it without naming yourself?  I just don’t get that.  My guess is that there is a good chance that it was, in fact, written by the person I was venting about. Sounds like something she would do, along with writing a song about her victimization.

Several months ago I disagreed with a friend on something that was a pretty big deal. It was a painful thing to do.  She refused to talk to me about it, only communicating by email.  I could not compromise on what I knew was clear truth.  I’ve done it before and I won’t go there.  It was  one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, and something I never ever wanted to do without talking face to face, and a hug of  ‘I love you but I can’t go there’ . Ultimately, our very special friendship of 11 years (in which I never remember ONE fight) was over in just 3 or 4 emails.  She chose to un-invite me to her wedding and never speak to me again.  I can’t even tell you how much it hurt.   She emailed me this week to tell me that she was thinking of us and praying for Jacob.  My heart is raw all over again. 

I sent the list of links that I posted her (on the Jimmy Hemmel Show) to some friends, and rather than clicking on a few of the moms from church I sent it to the whole group.  It was a VERY stupid thing to do.  Yes, I think it was very funny, and most of the moms in the group did, too.  But one didn’t, maybe more. One mom emailed Lisa to complain (the co-owner of the group with me).  I immediately recognised that is was a stupid, stupid thing to do.  Just to save a few clicks of the mouse, is all.  I apologised on the group.  Several of my friends defended me.   I love them for it, but I didn’t want to perpetuate the problem.  Yet the offended emailed another mom to defend her stance again.  Why the heck wouldn’t someone just be forthcoming and respond to the whole group, or email ME since I’m the one who posted something inappropriate?  I just don’t get that.

So, in thinking about it, the problem is that I didn’t feel like I could defend myself appropriate. I feel like my heart is misunderstood and has been judged.  How do you talk to someone who posts as ‘anonymous’ and is then gone?  How do you show someone how much you really DO care and aren’t just trying to judge and ruin them, when they refuse to see you face to face?  And how to I go to church tomorrow, knowing that one woman out of 50 in the email group things I’m some trashy monster of a mom that posts lewd things to church groups, when they chose to tell others they were offended but not tell me?

We as women feel so challenged to our core if someone doesn’t ‘like’ us?  Driven to please everyone.  Always feeling misunderstood, too much yet not enough all at once. Too lazy but too busy…   I think it’s at the core of every woman’s soul to be seen as whole, yet none of us feel whole.   We feel like if we can portray the image then maybe we have a fighting chance at actually experiencing the peace of wholeness.  So we fight to look the way we want to be seen, just hoping it will come true.  And our daughters see it.  And they learn it. And it goes on.

I am an island.  I live in a neighborhood where I know several families.  Knew them before I moved here.  They’re all a block or two away.  Yet I am alone.  I have no one to call when I feel like this.  Because everyone assumes that I’m so busy. Or that I have it all together.  Why do women do this to ourselves?  We work so hard to look like we have it together that in never occurs to anyone that we may need a call, or a knock on the door when our man is out of town.  Islands, all of us.

 Ironically, we celebrated 4 years of owning this house this week.  It’s taken me a good part of that 4 years to stop being angry at not being included, and to understand that we just have to make other friends.  Now, I’m not saying that these are bad people. Not at all. They’re precious and lovely.  Or that I sit around and dwell on this, pitying myself for 4 years straight.  It just comes up once in awhile when I’m lonely.  And I think we all do it.  The funny thing is that I just read a neighbor mama’s blog.  She’s one of the fun ones.  All happy all of the time, endless slew of friends to hang out with.  I love her.  She’s fun.  To my utter amazement, she feels like I do!  How can that be? Wow.

So, here’s my challenge.  Go call a friend. Someone you’ve been thinking about this week, but haven’t talked to. The woman that looks like she has it all together? She doesn’t. She needs to know that you think about her every now and them.  She needs a hug.  Don’t be an island.

Countdown To Bedtime, Unexpected Gifts February 28, 2008

It’s seven o’clock.  I’ve got a raging headache and an hour until bedtime.  The kids are on the  floor in front of me playing with a mound of jumbo sized LEGOs that their Popi had as a child.  If only Selah would stop slowly scraping the  aircraft carrier she has constructed across the ocean of my hardwood floors…

The LEGOs were an unexpected gift.  They came in a beaten-up pathetic box, wrapped in cute paper with a bow.  My mother-in-law gave them to us, or back to Travis I suppose, at our baby shower when we were expecting Selah.  I remember wondering why she didn’t save them for a first birthday or something.  Why give them when they can’t be used for so long? At times the LEGOS are the bane of my existence.  They liter my floors and get stuck under my couch constantly putting me on the defense for my perpetually bare feet.  All worth it for the joy they bring.  I wouldn’t give up that treasure for anything.  Although, I’m quite relieved to say the aircraft carrier has been reconstructed into a skyscraper.  Luckily, an immobile project.

It’s crazy how sometimes the things that bless us are the things we didn’t ever want in the first place.  I was not the happiest woman when I found out I was pregnant with Lucas.  I mean, there was no doubt that we wanted more children, but that soon?  I was actually too embarrassed to tell people for a few weeks. I couldn’t do it and look happy about it.  I’m an open book and everyone would know.  After those first few weeks I was fine and looked forward to the sweet little one. But I was saddened all over again when I found out that my dream of having a little ‘Lucienne Gaylene’ would not be coming true.  The sonogram very clearly showed it. 

So when Selah was 3 1/2 and Jacob was 18 months, little Lucas Gaelen was born.  Even the plan of a homebirth was a failure.  C-section again.  But that’s where the disappointment ended.  He’s amazing. He’s the most joyful little man ever.  Our family needed him, and we needed him when he came.  It’s hard to even remember why I ever felt the way I did.  I prefer to say he was ‘unscheduled’.  I never ever would call him unplanned. 

Blessings come whether we expect them or not and I’m so glad the planning wasn’t up to me!  It’s so easy for us to get frustrated when things don’t go the way we planned, but the circumstances of our lives make us who we are. I wouldn’t change any of mine.

Ok, said little man is now terrorizing the LEGO village.  Off to save the natives.

Unweaned….really February 25, 2008

When I was pregnant with Selah, first munchkin of our tribe, I remember an old friend of my mother’s visiting for the summer.  Now this woman is one of the most outspoken, opinionated bold mommas you could ever happen upon.  Basically an older, slightly crunchier version of me.  At the time I was floating in the pool, gorgeous prego belly exposed to the sun.  Complete bliss.  She was interrogating me on my plans for how I would parent.  Would I have a home-birth, would I go back to work… and the inevitable… would I breastfeed? 

For me there was no question.  There’s no doubt that it’s the best thing for my baby.  I personally couldn’t imagine messing with bottles in the middle of the night when I can just break out the boob.  The idea of ‘running out’ of formula sounded like a pain in the butt.  No way, I’m way too lazy for that. Not to mention the fact that I’m seriously too  cheap to pay for formula when breast-milk is free.  I’m not judging anyone who chose differently.  For me it was never even a question. 

So, clearly the answer was an immediate yes.  Then the next question was “How long will you breastfeed?”  That one hadn’t really come to mind yet.  I thought about it for a second.  I have vague memories of this woman being the epitome of mother earth mixed with the whole “hear me roar” thing.  Super power mom.  I know she nursed her babies longer than I probably would.  So I asked how long she did.  She had 6 children (I think that’s right) but she said that the one she nursed longest she had to wean eventually because the dentist said his teeth were getting cavities.  I looked at her in shock…

Me: Well how old was he?

 Supermom: I think he was in first grade.

Me:  Are you kidding me? (insert dumbfounded look of shock)

Supermom: Well, How long do YOU think you should breastfeed? ( justifiably defensive at my rudeness)

Me: Well I hope I stop before her teeth rot out! (paddling off to the deep end with brain reeling)

Now I think of this exchange often.  First of all, I’m still embarrassed at my rudeness.   (K and L, please don’t stop reading, I love your mom!)  Sometimes I think I should carry around a shoehorn for how often I put my foot in my mouth.  Yes, it was a bit extreme but  was it really that bad to have extended breastfeeding?

I’m ashamed to admit that I nursed Selah to 9 months and then weaned out of laziness.  Not saying that  9 months is ‘too short’.  I just know in my heart that it was for me that I weaned her.  Even at 9 months I would often have unexpected leakage issues.  I was working part time and forced to pump in the car.  It was embarrassing.  One night a single guy at church pointed at my shirt and said “Um,  you’re ahhh, ummm..”.  When I looked down and saw the left side of my shirt drenched I knew then and there that I was done with it.  Selah was an independent baby and didn’t seem to care.  She’s not scared, although I wonder if the finger sucking issue is connected.  I’m not getting down on myself.  I just know that now I would do it differently.  I have to be honest and say that my judgement on Supermom caused me to overreact and fear being seen as an ‘over exuberant’ nurser. I didn’t understand it. 

  With Jacob we went to 15 months, mainly because of his huge list of food allergies.  It was quite convenient to always have something for him, ummm… ‘on hand’, so to speak.   So when, at 8 months, I found out Lucas was on the way I kept it up as long as I could.  At six months into my pregnancy the cramps I was having during breastfeeding started to worry my OB (having had both Selah and Jake on the early side, with preterm issues).  So we weaned and he never looked back.  Ironic is the hindsight.  Maybe if I had kept up the breastfeeding I wouldn’t have been pregnant for 42 weeks that time! Who knew…

So here I am.  Lucas.  Last month we got down to nursing once every couple of days.  I got irritated with the inconsistency, and the fact that my nips were starting to be tender.  I decided he was done.  And he didn’t protest much either.  I was a bit shocked that we went all the way to 18 months without even thinking about it being any different.  I thought about Supermom.   I could see it.  Just keep going and don’t worry about it.  Somehow doesn’t seem like a big deal now. 

Well, that was last month.  We went about 4 weeks without nursing and suddenly I’m faced with the fact that my child actually has become UNweaned.  Last week he got a cold and out of the blue he was begging to nurse.  No big deal.  It was probably soothing.  I know my body will still make milk for months.  So, nurse we did.  And it really isn’t a big deal. 

He’s back to nursing just in the morning when he wakes up.  I never offer to, but he’s asking every morning.  To be honest, I just don’t see the point in denying it.  I look at Selah who is in kindergarten, and Jacob at three.  Nope, I love me some Supermom but I still don’t think I can do that.  On the other hand, what’s the big deal? 

I think the only issue I would have is if breastfeeding is for your identity.  Trying to prove something.  Or some neediness on the part of Mom.  I don’t think that was why Supermom did it.  I think it just kinda worked for her and wasn’t a big deal. 

On the other hand, I have seen a mom make it a big deal.  Following her 4 year old around at the park offering to nurse at every turn ‘just in case she wanted it’.  I mean, if the child still feels a need for it, let them ask.  If mom feels a need for it….where does that put you?  Do you need that to be important? Is it your soapbox, your identity?   That kinda doesn’t sit so well with me…

As it stands, my unexpectedly un-weaned 19 month old is welcome to keep nursing for now.  With homeschooling, working from home and general mom and wife duties, he may just see it as his best opportunity for some peace with mom. Why would I deny that?  And I have to say, it’s the only time I get a glimpse of him as a baby anymore, rather than the toddler in constant motion.  So nurse we will. Till….whenever….

I think Supermom would be proud. 

When Patience Wears Thin February 20, 2008

It’s amazing how this perfect little being comes into your life.  Ten finger. Ten toes.  Eyes that steal your heart and lips that breath the most alluring sweetness. They’re enchanting.  We live for them.  Yet they try every bit of patience we have within us.

Sometimes it’s direct defiance.  In the past it’s been easy to say that Selah and Jacob are inherently good on their own.  It’s humbling when people assume that our parenting has formed these perfect little people.  Well, they’re still young to be sure.  Plenty of time to shock us.  And, they just are well behaved for the most part.  Yet still.  They have their ways of testing the limits.

 At 19 months, Lucas pushes me more than Selah or Jacob ever have.  He’s the one who’s going to test all of my parenting.  Now, I’ve never read any books on how to ‘deal with a strong willed child’.  I don’t really feel like it’s prudent to label my child as such.  Not that I judge anyone else for it.  I just don’t like defining anyone with such few words.  Are we not all, as individuals, much more complex?  Trust me, I think about it. I just try to avoid it.

I have my own way of discipline. No books really.  My instinct has always told me to diffuse the anger. To hold both of the child’s hands gently yet firmly to calm them.  To make and hold eye contact, and using a quiet low voice, say things like “This is not ok.  Acting like this is not appropriate because….Etc.  It is my job to teach you to be respectful. I cannot let you act like this. If you want to tell me something then be calm and talk in a normal voice.”  Now I tend to just keep talking in a soothing voice until the child calms.  I’ll often even ‘help them breath’ by telling them to copy me and breathing deeply while maintaining eye contact.  It seems to work.  I will notsay things like, “It’s ok. Poor baby…”  I do NOT offer bribes.  I do make it clear that if they don’t choose to calm they will have to have some time in bed or time out to calm on their own.  With most children it works wonders as they begin to listen and calm down.   And yet what they are hearing is not affirming their actions, and it’s not escalating into a full blown power struggle.

 Last Tuesday I’m convinced that I heard no less than 3 hours total of intermittent screaming of “No! No! No!”.  Sometimes I wonder how he even breaths!  Lucas gets completely hysterical, major meltdown. Eyes bulging out and veins popping in his little head. His cheeks flushed, his tiny fists clenched while snot and tears mingle together to cover every bit of his face turning him into a child I’m not quite sure I know.    And YES, my 19 month old was being defiant.  He was screaming no because he was not getting what he wanted. Namely, to open the oven, the knife drawer and the refrigerator.  He was not injured, hungry or in a dirty diaper.  He was PISSED.  

After several minutes or talking to him, he went to the crib to be alone.  Several times.   We went around in circles in this disastrous waltz of defiance. It burned up all my reserves or patience and by the end of the day I was ready to stick my head in the oven.  When time came to buckle them all in to the car, I breathed a sigh of relief.  Only 5 minutes and Travis would be in the car.  I wouldn’t be so out numbered.  And can you believe how brilliant a toddler can be?  I had no more than backed the car out of the drive way to go down the hill and he starts squealing “Popi! Choo Choo!”  Now, if that child is smart enough to know that the only reason we EVER turn that way out of the driveway is to go pick up his father… certainly he understands enough when I’m talking to him.

Of course, everything was joy and roses once Popi was in the car.  I wonder if he believes me when I say we had a tough day because some alter-egos in the form of angels take over their bodies when we get him in the evening.  I can’t blame him for wondering what what I mean by a “tough day”.   This night was no exception. 

So you can imagine why I felt the slightest bit justified the next morning when Popi made the acquaintance of ‘Lucas the Terrible’ over breakfast, and was compelled to put him in his  crib after a long bout of ‘No’s’.  After about 5 minutes in the crib the screaming from the bedroom stopped, so we headed in for the ‘follow up’ to talk to him.  Travis went in first and said “Can I hold you now?”.  That little stinker yelled “no!” and ran to the other side of the crib where I stood.  So, I offered my arms and got the same response.  Then he actually ran to the back of the crib against the wall.  Literally he turned his back to us, trying to peek out of the corner of his eye to see what our response would be.  I’m not sure what he was imagining.   We simply said.  “Lucas, it’s your choice to have a bad attitude, but that means you’re choosing to stay alone.” And there we left him for a few more minutes… and that’s how that day went, too.

So now afew days later,  the two step with the ’tude has slowed to a waltz.  I haven’t seen “The Terrible” rear it’s head in a few days.  It’s interesting how they can all be so different, yet they all know how to find that last bit of patience you have and stomp all over it…best way to teach us to have more, right?

Voting For Myself February 4, 2008

 I love that we live in a country where we have the opportunity of choice.  While the candidate we vote for may not be the one who wins, we get the chance to make our mark and ultimately the voice of the majority does win out.   And if that’s not who I vote for I’m ok with that.  Because it’s about ‘We the People’ not just my personal opinions.

  Growing up in the church every election year was wrought with spiritual battle.  Because if whoever was more Christian didn’t win we were doomed, or if they did win  then all of the spiritual warfare worked and the Lord had mercy again!  Gotta take the country back for Christ!  As a child it was terrifying and confusing.  I always thought we were doomed for destruction.  I remember hiding in fear on election nights when the final announcements were given.  Not so good.

Now, I absolutely believe that God has a plan, and that spiritual warfare happens.  Prayers work. They do! But a few months ago Travis made a valid point to me that changed my whole opinion on voting.   He noted that this country was always founded on some separation of Church and State.  Now I don’t agree with how that has been misinterpreted over the last several years, but ultimately God made us to choosehim.  We don’t want the government dictating that!  So he made the mind-blowing suggestion that our voting should not be done based on morals at all.  My morals and beliefs are not their problem.  Their job is to care for the physical and economic safety of the country.  Voting should be done based on economics. 

Wow.  I never thought of that but it just rang true to me.  The government is spending all of this time being our conscience for us and it’s not their job. All of these moral issues, while I have very strong opinions on them, are not the point.  I’m still rolling this around in my mind.  It’s a new concept to me.  I’ll continue pondering that.

I live in Georgia and tomorrow I will get the opportunity to vote in the primaries.   I always wondered why people said they were registered as a Democrat or Republican.  I assumed they checked some box somewhere which I wouldn’t have checked  (I’m closest to libertarian and often vote for some of each).  I just read that Georgia doesn’t have people register with a party so I guess that’s why I never got asked?   Oh well.  I always wanted to have somewhere to select NEITHER! I guess my box won’t be their tomorrow, either.  Oh well.  I’ll just be sure to wear orange or some nonpartisan color…

For the first time there is a real possibility that we may have the opportunity to vote for a woman.  I don’t know who I’m voting for yet at all.  What concerns me though is how often I hear women saying that they are voting for Hillary because she is a woman.  Not because of her voting record, or her goals for the White House.  Not because they truly believe she is the best  candidate.  No.  Because she has a vagina.

Now, if women have done their research and believe she is the best bet for out country, fine. Go vote please!!  I’m not talking about those women. They’re making an educated choice. Yay! But to vote based on having the right reproductive equipment?   Are you kidding me?  Will you really do no more research than that?  Disappointing. I have no problem with a woman being president.  I’m not worried about her PMS putting the country in danger every 28 days.  Voting on the fear of her genitalia is just as ignorant, I’m sure.  I just don’t get the narrow mindedness of it all.  We can’t see past our personal soapboxes to vote on real issues.

So, tomorrow I will go vote and all of this was running through my head.   I thought I’d let it out before I’m off to bed.