BIWAM

I sometimes visit a blog called Mompetition. Its about the competition (whether intentional or otherwise) between moms. Right now there's a series called Before I Was a Mom (BIWAM). And its got me thinking...

BIWAM I never thought I'd lose my temper. Or yell. Yeah right.
My kids would be on a strict schedule, eat nothing but healthy food, never watch tv, play games with flash cards and be math geniuses by the age of three. Ok, slight exaggeration. By five, at the LATEST.

But really, before I was a mom I did not have ANY idea of the thrill of seeing a baby's first smiles. "Did you see that?? Did he smile AT us or was it just a random thing? HE'S SMILING AT US!!" Or this morning, when I rushed into the bedroom to announce to (sleeping) David, "He rolled over! He did it! Yaay!!" You'd think he was running a marathon by the way I cheered him on to attempt a repeat performance.

Before I was a mom I had NO CLUE about the pride I would feel at hearing my son read the Bible to me. Or at hearing him try to teach his sister her letters and numbers. I had no idea how the silliest combination of dress up clothes would be combined to create the most beautiful little girl in the world. I'd never heard a sweeter song than the one my daughter sings to comfort her brother, or the one she makes up to describe her love for Jesus.

Way back, a lifetime ago, before I was a mom, I had no idea what I was missing.

Lunch Box Note

Today I sent a note in Archer's lunch box.
I was surprised to see it returned to me when he came home.
I love that kid, he made my day.

Fish Sticks and Chicken Nuggets

Not too long ago I went through a phase of trying to cook healthy meals. Big, complicated, healthy things with all the food groups appropriately balanced and lots of herbs and spices and lots of preparation required. Then I got pregnant. And everything made me sick. Enter: Regular Food.

Now I cook stuff that my family will actually eat. (Surprise, my family didn't LIKE my big complicated healthy food that took hours to prepare.) And while I always said that I'd NEVER be a mom who would make different things for each kid at every meal because they can learn to like what I make, I now make different things for each kid. Because, really, if you're making fish sticks and one kid doesn't like them, its really not any more effort to put some chicken nuggets on the pan next to the fish sticks and put them both in the oven. And if one kid doesn't like one veggie and the other kid doesn't like the other, well I want them to eat vegetables. So I make two kinds. Maybe one day someone will accidentally eat the vegetable they thought they didn't like and realize they like it. Or maybe that's just wishful thinking.

Super Spy Secret Spot (S4)

There is in our home a Secret Spot. Its where the Super Spies hide. And sometimes the puppies, depending on which game is being played at the moment. We'll call this location S4. I am amazed at the endurance of my children, to sit quietly in the dark discussing the rules, parameters, history and future of the game. They do this without fighting and even sometimes without the lights. Of course they have their flashlights, so that helps add fun to the game. S4 is their current favorite place to play. And as long as they're not fighting, making a huge mess or wrecking anything, I'll just let it go. Till I need the space back for something else, like Elijah when he's napping. Or maybe for my clothes. Did I mention that S4 is located inside my closet? Oh yeah, and Elijah sleeps in our closet sometimes. Hey, its a big closet!

Mama's Best Friend

Today my best friend is this dear laundry stain treater. We have many bottles. We keep them throughout the house to attack the stains at the moment they occur. Mama's other best friend is dark colored clothes. They reduce the need for Mama's first best friend, the laundry stain treater.

Just Another Day

Yesterday when we got home from church I stayed outside to enjoy the warm weather and scrape ice off the driveway. (Hey, 30° felt like a heat wave after all the arctic weather we've had!) After I'd been out for awhile, David stuck his head out the door and shouted, "Amy! Help!" So of course I went in and casually started taking my shoes off. No baby crying, that's kinda nice. But what? Archer crying? It didn't really sound like a hurt cry, but I thought I heard David say the word "hospital" while he was talking to Arch in the other room. Oh, I thought, I wonder if we have the cash to pay the emergency room co-pay, or if they'll bill us? I'm sure David will take Archer in, since it wouldn't make sense for all of us to trek over there just to sit around. I hope there's no blood on the carpet. Oh yeah, also I hope Archer's not hurt TOO badly. (Notice how I'm not even worked up about this? How I'm just sort of thinking through how the rest of the day's plans will go? Is this really what its come to? Too many trips to the ER to get overly excited about it, I guess.)

Imagine my surprise when I finally got my shoes off and walked into the living room to see an Archer that was NOT at ALL hurt. Well, the crying didn't really sound like a "hurt" cry anyway. He'd broken the lamp. He was more upset than we were, after all, nobody was hurt. And it was an accident. (Or so he said.) After about an hour of clean up (the glass was EVERYWHERE, embedded in the carpet and furniture) we had pancakes and all was well. Just another day in paradise. The end.

Elijah: 3 Months (and a week)

We got a little behind with the pictures this time around but better late than never. Or something. He's getting closer to sitting up on his own. He smiles so much. And I think he's getting grumpier. Well, he's awake more so that means he wants me to hold him more and when I don't then he's grumpy. I call him Growly Bear. He actually reaches for things now and of course it all goes straight to his mouth, whenever he manages to actually grab on. And he's drooling constantly. Always. His face and hands are wet. Always. And that sums up Month Three!

Oh yeah, did I mention his gorgeous smile?

Where the Wild Things Are

I watched this movie with the expectation that it would be a cute kids' story. Its based on a children's book, after all. How serious could it be? This movie was so physical. So emotional. So serious and silly and real. It reminded me of the strong emotions that kids we all have, how they we don't always have the tools to face those emotions and how overwhelming their our feelings can be. It was so simple, at times. I'm ANGRY! I'll destroy things! I'll stomp and hit and roar and run away! And so complicated. You have other friends. What about me? You hurt me and you're not listening, what about my feelings? I felt overwhelmed and sad and triumphant watching Max's story. I was reminded to be silly more. To run and chase and roar. So the kids and I played "Wild Rumpus," taken straight from the movie.

The king stood up on the tallest landmark and shouted, "Let the wild rumpus start!" Then we chased around and roared and howled. And laughed and laughed and laughed! I need to do that A LOT more often. A. LOT. Let's all run and roar and howl more often. Its FUN!

Just get a hose...

Remember this scene from the movie Mr. Mom?

That's been my morning. Except my gloves are pink. Enough said.

Gormet What?

Archer brought a box to me and asked if I'd like to try a gormet pea. They looked like rabbit droppings. I told him they looked like chocolate and then ate one. For pretend. He said the peas are covered in chocolate, that's what makes them gormet. Gotta love play dough!

Super Spy

Archer and Shelly just finished up a serious discussion on "a research paper about mazes." (Seriously, that's a direct quote. How does a four year old come up with that?)

Now they're playing Super Spy. I remember playing a version of this when we were kids and I remember being SO STEALTHY that Mom and Dad NEVER heard or saw us. I mean, they never turned to look at us, or talk to us, so they must not have heard me sitting behind the chair, or seen me running into the room and hiding in the corner. Right? We even kept spy journals where we reported on what our parents were doing at that exact moment. Like, Dad's watching golf on t.v. Mom's typing a letter. Exciting stuff, right? Now, as the mom who is being spied on, I have to very carefully AVOID accidentally looking in their direction when they're running around so I don't ruin their game. I get it now. They were just ignoring us. We thought we were so sneaky...

Let's Make a Deal

E has a little cough and some serious nasal congestion. He sounds like a Snuffleufagus. Or what I imagine a Snuffleufagus would sound like. S has a serious cough. And A, well we already know what he has. Fever. Vomit. Yuck. Stay away from us and we'll stay away from you.

Now if I could just keep the kids away from each other to avoid spreading each other's sickness back and forth.

Peace and Quiet and...

Around 2:30 today I received a phone call: "Archer complained that his tummy is upset and he has a temperature of 100.2. He needs to go home." So I immediately packed up the other two, brought Archer home and put him to sleep on the couch. He slept for a couple hours and then said he'd eat some soup if I made it. Once it was ready he said he couldn't eat it. Oh well. Back to sleep. I enjoyed the unusual level of quiet, no running and yelling and rough housing. I felt a little guilty for enjoying the peace when it was at my sick son's expense. But mostly I just enjoyed it.

A couple hours later when I made a grilled cheese sandwich for Shelly, Archer said he'd eat one too. He came to the table. I asked him if he could eat it, he said, "I don't know," and immediately threw up on the table. Guess he won't eat it. And the price to pay for the peace and quiet is cleaning up the puke. There's always the trade off. Always.

Shelly's news report: Archer has a big cavity and it looked like somebody chewed his tooth.

Randomly Shelly says today, "Santa's not real. You know that Mom, right? That's what Archer said."
Does Eli have ANY chance of experiencing the magic of Santa?

Taking Refuge

Have you ever felt invincible? Admit it, we all have. "That won't happen to me. We'll be fine." This week reminded me how often the Lord is watching out for us and protecting us from harm. How fragile our lives really are.

First, the furnace died. In the middle of a huge snow storm. Great, I thought. We'll be bundling up in our winter coats and hats to stay warm inside our house tonight. But no! It was just a blocked vent, once David went out and cleared the snow drift away from the house the furnace fired right up and kept us toasty warm all night long (with a few more trips out to clear away the snow again). It wasn't until I heard later about the possibility of carbon monoxide poisoning that I realized what a blessing our finicky furnace had been. If it had continued to run with the blocked vents... Well, needless to say I was thanking God for a warm house and for a furnace that wouldn't run with blocked vents.

Today, a puddle of water under my kitchen sink. Great, why always another problem? When I discovered it was leaking out of the disposal and running down the electrical cord I was just happy to see the water hadn't reached the outlet. Who knows what bigger problems that would have caused. Thank you again, Lord, for protecting our home.

And finally, this afternoon Shelly and I went to the store. The roads were still covered in snow and its amazing that we made it there and back without any accidents. But what happened in the parking lot at the store opened my eyes even further to God's protection that surrounds us at every moment. The little girl who ALWAYS holds my hand in the parking lot today decided to run ahead without me. A car showing up from an unexpected direction and speeding WAY too fast through the parking lot. "SHELLY!!!" I screamed in terror and she stopped and the car stopped and she was fine. I was terrified. In that moment I thought of all the possible outcomes and just as quickly realized that it was only by God's faithful protection that tragedy was not reality today.

But let all who take refuge in you be glad;
let them ever sing for joy.
Spread your protection over them,
that those who love your name may rejoice in you.
~Psalm 5:11

Forgetful

There's a hormone that is released in a mother's body immediately following the birth of her baby that helps her to forget the pain. This is scientific, or so I've heard. This is also one of God's wonderful gifts to women, because forgetting the pain is about the best thing that could happen in that moment, that and getting to lay eyes on that precious gift for the first time.
So how about later? Is there something that causes us to forget the messes, sleeplessness, hair-pulling-out frustration about whatever latest trouble? I pondered this as I cleaned up Eli today after a mess that leaked out of his diaper and down to his ankles. "I don't remember it being this messy with Shelly and Archer," I thought to myself. And maybe that's just it - it probably was just as messy. But God's gift of forgetting all the gory details has spared me from dreading Eli's future. Dreading the diapers, the spit-up, the sleeplessness, the endless amount of crying (he doesn't even cry that much, but even a little can feel like a lot, did that make sense?). As I write this he has cried himself to sleep. I really don't like letting him cry, if he wants me to hold him I want to do that for him, I hate hearing any of my kids unhappy. But if I know he's not hungry and he's clean and dry then sometimes a mom just needs a break. So I set him down next to me in his high chair and just as I turned around to praise him for being quiet I started to hear little snoring sounds.