The Counting of Blessings

a move

2009-11-25T16:48:00.004-05:00

My second year on blogspot is coming to a close. I've learned so much in so many areas of my life! I do feel the need to create a new web address, and start writing under fictitious names. My kids aren't old enough to give me permission to tell their stories, so for now, I'll write anonymously. Thank you for reading here, and e-mail me if you'd like to keep following. Thank you.

The Counting of Blessings - Tuesday

2009-11-24T23:06:00.003-05:00

- We had a pleasant visit with Aunt Dot and Uncle Bob (Don's mom's sister and her husband), and with Auntie Lorrie, Don's sister. They arrived from PA on Saturday and left after church on Sunday. Before leaving, Uncle Bob told me three times that I had my hands full. LOL

Uncle Bob is a character. He watched Penn State football on Saturday, yelling out a number of times "Go Penn State!" My kids got a kick out of that. When Daddy watches Penn State, he yells out, exasperated, "Would you just go for the touchdown, Joe?" When Joe Paterno doesn't go for the touchdown and they kick a field goal instead, my honey yells out, "Play to win, Joe! What's the matter with you!  Time to retire already!" (Coach Paterno is in his eighties.)

- We paid a car insurance bill last week with no time to spare. It was either pay the bill or have grocery money for another week. Those were our choices.  We paid the insurance bill, since it would be expensive to try and reinstate the policy. Two days later, our church called to ask if we wanted a Thanksgiving basket.  We were blessed that they called, and assumed it would be Thanksgiving fixings. But it was all that AND extra groceries. God's timing is amazing! You really can have faith in what Matthew 6 tells us:

25"Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? 26Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? 27Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life[b]?

28"And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. 29Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. 30If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? 31So do not worry, saying, 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we drink?' or 'What shall we wear?' 32For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. 33But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. 34Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.

- Aunt Dot and Uncle Bob had some legal-size computer paper cluttering their tiny house, so they brought it to my children, along with Christmas presents. My boys have written three cute stories with that paper already! The writing bug has hit them! Who knew that legal-size computer paper was all I needed to get their literary juices flowing? What a blessing!

- Daniel loves therapy! His therapist is gentle, kind and young. She is working at the facility as an intern.  Yesterday the two of us worked with Daniel to write out steps to take over the next two months that will gradually help him face his separation anxiety. The first step was that for half of yesterday's appointment time I sat in a chair outside her office, rather than next to Daniel IN her office. While I sat out there with the door closed, they played Uno to help Daniel relax. He told me later that he felt like crying at first, but he didn't. I'm not sure he was exactly relaxed, but it was a big step nonetheless. During his next appointment I will sit outside the office for the whole appointment, then two weeks later I will leave briefly to get something from the van, and then two weeks after that I will hopefully be able to wait in the waiting room. Baby steps. Just dropping his ADHD med has helped a great deal with his anxiety.

That's all for today. Anna Grace is now awake.

Happy Thanksgiving, Friends!

a cure

2009-11-20T13:02:00.000-05:00

I probably won't have time to come to this space again until Monday, but I wanted to report some progress on dealing with my "rushing around" disease.

Yesterday and today, I have taken one of my children aside every few hours for a cuddle and an ear nuzzling. I've also whispered my forever love into their waiting ears. A few tickles and giggles were shared too.

And you know what? A calm and lightness has descended upon us.

Thank you, Lord, for the diagnosis, and for the cure. My heart swells with gratitude.

to have and to hold

2009-11-18T23:34:00.001-05:00

My heart swells as I look at these. I couldn't be any more grateful that these precious ones call me Mommy. They are little rascals, yes. Active, restless, sometimes overtired, sometimes argumentative. But brilliant too, each in their own ways. Emily Rose loves to call her favorite foods "delectible". Daniel wants me to read out of non-fiction animal science books endlessly. Timothy spent half of his short birthday party last night having Uncle David quiz him on square roots and multiplication. Square roots at six years old?

But when I look at them on the screen right this minute (it's 10:00 p.m.), do you know what I'm mostly feeling? Regret. Regret that I didn't slow down enough to take each of them in my arms today, and love on them and whisper softly to them about how much they mean to me. I did this only with Anna, my nursling. She gets the best of me these days. Our nursing relationship keeps us bonded. Thank the Lord for that!

When you've looked at your sweet children in photos at the end of a long day, isn't that what you most wish you had done? I know a yearning to slow down is universal among moms. And I think most moms feel they fail at slowing down, on most days. For truly, when we slow down, we get behind on something. And being behind raises everyone's stress level. No one wants to dig through large laundry baskets for socks and underwear. Or have lunch without bread. Or take a bath without a fresh towel. Everyone appreciates our diligence, but not our hastiness, or our lack of patience. Even in our haste, we rarely get even halfway through our to-do lists.

It was a busy day--a homeschooling playdate, for which I made cupcakes this morning. Followed by a trip to the bank, to the dollar store, and then home to make more cupcakes for AWANA. I was running all day to meet deadlines. The homeschooling and AWANA events themselves, I didn't attend, due to Anna's naps and some late afternoon fussiness. Daddy gladly stepped in, rather than being left with the job of soothing Anna.

Mostly, today's busyness was brought on by myself, by offering last week to bring birthday cupcakes to the playdate and to AWANA. My children were very excited, and so happy that I did it, but it cost me.

I was not the gentle, quiet-spirited mom I wanted to be. I was not patient with diaper after diaper, changed at the most inconvenient times. Or with Timothy, who wanted me to play his new Pay Day board game, even though it was an hour before AWANA and I still had more baking to do. Or with Daniel, my non-medicated ADHD child, who climbs the walls and buzzes around in his frenzied, highly-strung, me-first way. He is the most helpful, which seems a contradiction, I know. He loves to help in the kitchen and with special projects--a quality which on less busy days I find endearing. But not today. Today, I let it annoy.

I guess I'm most patient with Anna, even though she's into every cupboard and drawer, distributing the contents for me to pick up, in my spare time. She needs to explore so she can learn; I try not to confine her unless absolutely necessary. At eleven months, her exploring hands and her curiosity are her best teachers. Yes, that is an electrical device in her hands. The mixer, to be exact. She was really happy to find that baby in my cupboard.

I have no answers for this conundrum of slowing down, while still meeting everyone's physical needs. I only know that when I look at these photos, I want to hold my babies forever, just as they are right now. Every day with them is perfect...blessed.

Oh, Lord, how I want to convey that to them! For them to know the depths of my love for them. For them to know how much I dearly love having them in my midst.

I fear I'm too imperfect to change. I'm counting on you, Father, to convey it supernaturally. Cover this conundrum with your grace, and help each mother to end her days satisfied. Not only with her kids, but with herself.

glory for the house

2009-11-17T11:59:00.005-05:00

I'm here taking a much needed deep breath.

We are having company for cake and ice cream tonight, for a belated birthday celebration for Timothy. We were sick around his birthday, so I had to keep calling my aunt to postpone. Her husband is one who will back away from you if you even mention that someone is ill, or has been ill. Two kids are still snotting, but oh well. I tried. Life must go on.

As well, my husband's aunt and uncle are coming for an overnight visit this weekend. They've never visited before, and they've never seen our girls.

You know how it goes when you've got to prepare the house for overnight guests. A . huge. exhausting. undertaking. I always run around breathless, cleaning everything in sight, running on empty, as there's no time to eat or drink before the arrival deadline.

Each time I prepare for guests, I beat myself up, wondering what's wrong with me that my house gets this bad, and requires this much turmoil to set right. Don took the older three to the park today, so I could rush around as much as possible, uninterrupted. Of course, my Anna took a short nap. Sigh.

Today it dawned on me that this mess is just my season of life for now. Diapers, meals, snacks, messes, laundry, and schooling, keep me running all day long, every day. There isn't some formula I'm failing to see, or failing to implement. If this were a business we were running, we'd be advised, "Hire some help!" But there is no help coming. Chaos reigns when your kids come close together, and they're all still little. Period. End of story. Especially if there's no close family around (my dad moved back to Vegas in October). My aunts have their own families to worry about.

I have to stop berating myself, and just accept. If it weren't for guests coming periodically, the house would probably look worse. So I need to thank God for these times of turmoil and tension, whilst the house gets back some of its glory. It's glory that only lasts for about five waking hours, but at least during that time, I can walk around and say, "Hey, what a nice house this is!"

We're Protected!

2009-11-16T15:26:00.002-05:00

I took Anna for her second (regular) seasonal flu shot today. Her doctor confirmed that our family probably did have H1N1 back in October. I asked what level of immunity we would be blessed to enjoy, if the virus later mutates into something more deadly. He said we would probably be fully protected, but it would depend on how bad the mutation is.

Your family may well have had this virus too. Here are some symptoms to consider, which didn't end up being the same in all of us, or in all of my sister's family.

1. fever
- some get no fever, some get only a mild fever, some get a high fever.

2. sore throat
- we all got this, and it was painful

3. chills
- not everyone gets chills, but our family did seem to get this to different degrees; my sister doesn't recall any chills

4. dry hacking cough, could be productive cough later
- everyone involved in both families got a bad cough, which lingered a few weeks

5. nausea, diarrhea, vomiting
- Timothy vomited for 24 hours; Daniel once (some diarrhea for him); Emily had diarrhea twice; only my sister's ex-husband vomited in their family; I did have nausea, my husband didn't

6. congestion, runny nose
- a runny nose is more of a cold symptom than a flu symptom, but you can get some drainage halfway through the flu; only Anna and I had some drainage, probably due to our secondary sinus infection.

- everyone in both families did get congestion

7. fatigue, muscle aches
- we all got this to varying degrees; my husband and my sister were only tired for two days; the kids and I were tired and weak for one to two weeks

8. secondary bacterial infection
- While flu is a virus and not helped by antibiotics, your system is less able to fight off bacteria when you're ailing with the flu. This means you could get a secondary bacterial infection and need antibiotics to fight it. Examples of secondary infections are: ear infection, sinus infection, bronchitis, pnemonia
All of these things can also be viral, but if you begin to feel a bit better from the flu, and then get worse, suspect a bacterial infection. Anna and I got sinus infections, my brother-in-law and nephew got pneumonia. You are less likely to get something secondary if you drink plenty of water, get extra sleep, use clean humidifiers, and wash your hands frequently.

9. sudden onset
- Colds come on gradually, and the flu comes on suddenly. Since congestion is common in the heating season in cold climates, it can be difficult to determine if symptoms came on gradually or suddenly. I get congestion from having the heater on, and congestion can give me a headache. Indoor allergies can also cause symptoms that might be confused with a gradual-onset illness.

10. headache
- We all got this to varying degrees. It is hard to determine how bad this symptom might be in young children.

I hope this helps someone! You may not need an H1N1 vaccine if you've had these symptoms in 2009. It's something to consider, although I read that having antibodies to this virus, and then getting a vaccine on top of that, is not dangerous. They aren't doing much testing now, since H1N1 is now so widespread. Most people presenting with flu-like symptoms do have H1N1, rather than the regular seasonal flu.

The Counting of Blessings - Sunday

2009-11-15T11:02:00.003-05:00

- I have a little girl, Emily Rose, who wakes up every day looking for her Momma. When she finds me, she flashes me her sleepy smile, and says, "Hi, Mommy. I luv you", in her still-sleepy voice. And after I've taken her in my arms and cherished the moment, she says "Fank you, Mommy."

- I've been given the opportunity to make Christmas about something other than spending money, wrapping presents, and rushing around town fighting crowds. If we had the money to shop, we would--for what parent does not want to grant at least some of their children's Christmas wishes, or give nice things to relatives? The pressure to shop is pervasive and powerful in our culture, and it takes up all of our extra time. But when children grow up, the memories of laboring with love together at Christmas (on bundles of cookies to give away, on stringing popcorn, on helping the needy) will mean far more than a tree crowded with presents. So thank you, God, for forcing me to make it about togetherness and working toward the goal of blessing others.

- Thank you for four happy, healthy, active children, who force me to lean on you all the day long. I would surely lean on myself, and stumble more with pride, if daily life with them weren't so challenging.

- Thank you for the blessing of online friends, for whom I can pray. It's a privilege to share their burdens, and for them to share mine. For surely, if we only had phones, I would rarely connect with anyone in this season of life.

- Thank you for a husband who loves me unconditionally, who never pressures me, who forgives instantly and keeps no record of wrongs.

- Thank you for a low house payment, and a big yard.

- Thank you for the freedom to write about you, teach about you, and worship you, without fear.

- Thank you that since the job loss in March, we've not had a single delinquent house payment.

- Thank you for Don's school grant, and for the opportunity to work with his head, after so many years of working with his hands. There are blessings to both, but his heart has desired this for a very long time. Thank you for forcing him to put fears aside, so he could take the next step.

Saturday fun

2009-11-14T22:39:00.001-05:00

My advice? If you've just mopped your floor, and the kids are out playing in the backyard, lock all the doors! For if you step away from your door-guarding duty, you know what will happen.

Okay, sister. I'll show you how it's done. To get the maximum-decibel impact, just watch me.

been there done that

2009-11-14T16:43:00.001-05:00

If statistics mean anything, of the thirty readers who frequent this blog, approximately 3 might deal with unemployment in the coming year. I've come across two recent posts written by women who've gone through this in the last decade. I hope their words and wisdom bless you. I had tears in my eyes as I read both posts, and I found myself continuing nodding in agreement. What a blessing that these ladies took the time to recount their experiences.

Thankfulness Thursday - A post by Paula, from Paulas Ponderings

Each Thursday in November I am going to post something I am thankful for in celebration of the Thanksgiving holiday. I would love for you to do the same!

Today I am thankful for the gift of rest in the midst of turmoil.

Up until a few years ago, I worried over everything. My husband told me that if I didn't have something to worry about, I'd make something up. And he was right. I had no peace. I did not know how to truly trust. I could not rest.

And then for some crazy reason about 8 years ago, I decided to make my Scripture goal - "I have learned to be content in whatever situation I find myself in" (my paraphrase). Little did I know at the time that the Lord had that goal for me also.

Shortly after that declaration of my new Scripture goal, my husband was laid off from his job of over 20 years. Stress! Maximum stress! Now 7 1/2 years and much turmoil later, I understand trust. And I know how to go to sleep at night and truly rest. Our struggles are not over. My husband has had to start over in a new career when many are beginning to count down the years to retirement. But we have lost our retirement savings and live day-to-day, not knowing what the next month's commissions are going to be or how the bills will be paid. There is a song that says He gives "just enough light for the step I'm on." That's where we are.
-----------------------

My journal notes in December, 2003:

"I try so hard to lay it at the feet of Jesus, but fear gets the best of me. I live in a constant state of fear these days...Why can't I trust?? Why can't I shake this fear that controls my life?? I'm so tired and weary. It's taking too long...I know deep in my soul that the Lord is there and with us and will carry us through - is carrying us through. But I'm just so tired."
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My journal notes a few months later in August, 2004:

"Thank You, Father, that I am reaching the point of thankfulness to You for Your teaching, for growing me deeper and deeper in Your love. Thank You, Father, for being more concerned with my character than my comfort. Thank You, Father, for taking my control from me. Through this I've learned to hand control over to You. Thank You, Father, for helping me to be content in whatever circumstances I find myself in ~ because You are there in the midst ~ in control. Thank You, Father, for helping me see that I have never had reason to fear, for You have always been my Provider, my Peace, my Comforter, even when I've not been so sure of it. Thank You, Father, because it's finally getting from my head to my heart. This could not have happened without trials to the point of despair, without learning to give up control, without learning to be content no matter the circumstance, without learning, through trials, to rest in You. It's all about You, Lord, it's all about You.

More of You, more of You. I've had it all, but what I need is more of You.

We have lost all monetary crutches, and have gained ~ You! We have no resources left to rely on ~ but we have You! Our assets have been cut in half, and we are left with You! You are truly all we need. Your faithfulness endures forever!"

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How does one rest in the midst of difficult circumstances? I believe it it simply something that must be learned. (Remember my Scripture goal? I have learned to be content...) It is not something that can be conjured up or willed into existence through clenched teeth and fists. Our trials help us grow. I wouldn't trade the past few years for anything. What a wonderful thing to finally be able to trust my Heavenly Father and rest in Him.

(And FYI - I still have my moments! Human!)

I hope this has not been too depressing as a Thanksgiving post! But I know that many are hurting during the holiday seasons each year and pray that the Lord will give His rest to each and every one. I would love to read your Thankfulness posts! Leave a comment and link to your blog if you have one.

Come to Me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Matthew 11:28

The Lord Himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged. Deuteronomy 31:8

"Father I pray for my dear sisters who are fearful and distressed during this Thanksgiving season. Show them Your peace...and teach them Your rest. Amen"

_________________________________________________
This next post comes from Kimberly, author of Adventures in Mothering. I found it in her Frugal Living category.

Paycuts stink, don't they?

Just about ten years ago, when my husband lost his job, and had to take a job with lowered pay, we felt pretty alone in the world, because no one else was going through that (that we knew, anyway). The tool and die industry, once a sure well-paying job not requiring a degree, was now forcing down pay in most of the skilled labor people that weren't working for a unionized shop. Hubby was back to making what he made 5 years earlier, and yet our expenses had gone up. Over the course of those years, he'd take more paycuts, and we'd have to pare it down further. I was not smiling, girls.

Well, I'm no longer alone. Maybe I got to walk through the wilderness to be an encouragement to others now, ten years later. I hope I can be an encouragement. It seems that the biggest "trend" in this job struggling recession thing is paycuts, according to this article. Now, it may seem like, "Well I live on that much money, why can't he?" but let me point something out to you....if you have been earning $100K, and suddenly you get cut down to $34K, that is a much harder adjustment than if you had been earning $34K all along. Trust me on that one...we've been there and done that.

Back when it happened to us, everyone seemed to say "Well, Martin needs to just look for a better job." (oh, sure...good idea...) or use it as an opportunity to remind me that I could get off my lazy behind and find a job too. You know how us stay home moms do nothing all day long but eat bon bons and watch the soaps. With five young children, there was no way for me to get a second job, even if I felt that God wanted us to do that. In prayer, God had made it clear that He was at work and that I was to press on. We both had peace about it.

Even more not-helpful was those money saving articles and books I'd read. Sometimes I'd get frustrated with them, because although it's good to plan, to save, to budget, to do all that is humanly possible for us to do...there comes this point in our lives when we reach the end of ourselves, and no matter how much we cut, we save, we scrimp, we eat rice and beans, and we do all of the other things we're supposed to do...we just can't do enough to stay above water.

Even with our padded emergency fund, our lower-than-pre-approved mortgage, and our savings accounts, as well as our debt paydown plan well underway, absorbing the loss of almost 2/3rds of our income was not an easy thing to do. You can't live on a fraction of your old income for too long even with emergency plans in place.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't cryng out to God, sometimes shaking my fist at Him, angry at His apparent betrayal of us. It was a frustrating time. Still is.

However, God poured out a blessing on us, first by teaching us that His blessings are not always financial. When he provides for us, it doesn't mean that my husband is going to get the pay raise he deserves, and be paid what his skill level demands. Sometimes it means that God gives us the GRACE to live one day at a time, and to gather our manna one day at a time.

By nature I think we are ungrateful. We don't like going out for manna every day. We like His provision to be clearly stated so that our sweet looking budget spreadsheet makes us look like we are being wise stewards, and so that everything fits in there neatly and cleanly. When you have a budget shortfall of a couple hundred a week, you can't really make a budget. It's funny though how, with God, and by faith, a budget that doesn't work on paper can often work in reality, and cause lots of provision to rain down like manna just as we need it.

A friend, sister in Christ, and blog reader from, what often seems like a galaxy far, far away (namely, somewhere in Central Africa) has told me that she finds the whole money management stuff that American and Western Christians obsess over to be really bewildering. On the one hand, she and I would both agree that God calls us to be faithful stewards of what He provides. On the other hand, we have become so fixed on providing for ourselves, managing our finances according to the world's best wisdom or following Bible money-management principles in our own flesh, and leaving our provider God out of our picture.

As I've pointed out in my book on this very topic, Thriving on One Income, God can provide through a paycheck, but He isn't limited to that. Martin's boss may pay him on Thursday, but God provides for us everyday. Lost most of your retirement savings? Yeah, join the club. Us too. Mortgage underwater even after a generous downpayment? Ditto. College savings fund have enough to buy one new textbook at a state university per child? We're there with you. Thankfully God is too. He knows our circumstances, and better than that, He knows our needs...not our wants...not our wishes...not our hopes...but our needs. He often will provide those hopes and wishes and wants too, of course...but He will take care of us.

The best part about times like these...all of the "stuff" that gets in our way of seeing God in the everyday, and all of the things that push what's really important aside fall away, and God is able to really grow us as people, as Christians, and as servants to the king. That's something to smile about.

Birthday post - Timmy at 6!

2009-11-14T00:04:00.001-05:00

Here is Timothy at a homeschooling party, enjoying the lawn toys.

Playing in the leaves. Timothy on right, Daniel on left

Here you see Timothy and his block tower.

A birthday post for Timothy, who turned 6 last week--based on The Important Book, by Margaret Wise Brown. All my kids have birthdays between November and January, so you'll be seeing this pattern three more times in the upcoming weeks.
____________________________________________
The Important Thing about Timothy

The important thing about Timothy is that he loves God.
It's true that he is good with numbers
And that he is Daniel's best friend
And that he loves to sort things
But the important thing about Timothy is that he loves God.

The important thing about Timothy is that he loves to cuddle
It's true that he loves to play games
And that he loves AWANA
And that he's picky about food
But the important thing about Timothy is that he loves to cuddle

The important thing about Timothy is that he dwells on complicated things
It's true that he can be silly
And that he can be stubborn
And that he loves chocolate cake
But the important thing about Timothy is that he dwells on complicated things

The important thing about Timothy is that he loves a good joke
It's true that he loves math and science shows
And that he's not prone to wordiness
And that he loves pools in the summer
But the important thing about Timothy is that he loves a good joke

The important thing about Timothy is that he loves the game Mouse Trap
It's true that he loves Uno
And that he loves all puzzles
And that he has a wonderful baby face
But the important thing about Timothy is that he loves the game Mouse Trap

The important thing about Timothy is that his eyes are sky blue
It's true that he loves pizza
And that he eats a lot of raisins
And that he won't have milk with his cereal
But the important thing about Timothy is that his eyes are sky blue

The important thing about Timothy is that he loved to nurse as a baby and toddler
It's true that he didn't talk until two
And that he knew letter sounds before he uttered a sentence
And that he prefers to teach himself
But the important thing about Timothy is that he loved to nurse as a baby and toddler

The important thing about Timothy is that he just turned 6!
It's true that he loves his alone time like Momma does
And that his love language is physical touch
And that his hugs are tight and long
But the important thing about Timothy is that he just turned 6!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DEAR TIMMY
YOU'LL ALWAYS BE MY CUDDLE BUG
MOMMA LOVES YOU!

far from grace

2009-11-13T00:24:00.002-05:00

I'm constantly thinking about my children's behavior. Are they growing up to be nice? Obedient? Grateful? Are they kind? Helpful? Why do they still complain about toy pick-up, after all these years? Why don't they instantly say thank you?

It goes on and on. I'm afraid it's consistent with my being a highly conscientious person. I do these parenting self-checks to make sure I'm doing my best to prepare them for life.

Awhile back, I learned from the book Different Children, Different Needs, that I am what is called a corrective parent. Turns out that conscientious people not only correct themselves, but they correct their family as well. A lot.

Ugh! Exactly what I don't want to be! Corrective. It even sounds ugly.

The other day I was reading a child-rearing tips blog post. This mother served one of two lunches to her large brood everyday. She said the children didn't complain, nor would she have let them complain.

Excuse me? You mean I shouldn't be making three different breakfasts every morning, to satisfy three different children? And I shouldn't be buying a certain kind of whole wheat tortilla, to satisfy my Timothy? He should just eat what I serve, or go to bed, perhaps?

When I read such child-rearing posts, I always question whether we're strict enough. What's wrong with us? Should we spank every day? Take away more? Why are we working on the same behaviors for so long? Why are they so restless and active, compared to some?

If only we would correct more, they would behave better. Right?

I used to think that. But not now. It's too discouraging to the child. The more we correct, the less they want to conform. Consistency is key, but excessive correction is poison.

And I have a confession to make. I'm not more perfect than they are. Sometimes I have fits. Sometimes I'm not kind, or patient, or loving. Sometimes I rant and rave about the toys.....about the shoes......about the mud........about the water splashed outside the tub......about the jacket not on the hook.....about the cheesestick wrapper left on the floor.

What if I made a tape of myself? Would I want to throw up after hearing just one day? I'm sure I would destroy it as quickly as possible, lest anyone else ever hear it. Dealing with an ADHD child doesn't exactly boost parental mood, let me tell you.

But God is patient with me. He sees me as an individual, because he made me one. He works with me on one or two things at a time. He is sacrificial more than corrective.

I'm ashamed of the behavior I've displayed, especially in the last month during these two illnesses. Being sick depresses me. Not an excuse, just an unfortunate reality.

Tomorrow is a new day. I want to look at my children in a new way. Not as projects. No more of that.

I want to see them as beautiful works in progress. I want to encourage, love, support, and nurture them. I want to laugh with them. I want to be someone they genuinely like. Someone they want to emulate.

I'm sorry, Lord. I repent. Help me to extend grace and mercy to my children, while they work at shedding their childish ways. Help me to parent like you do. Remake me into someone who's humble, gentle and quiet-spirited.

An Angel

2009-11-11T17:33:00.009-05:00

It has been at least eight months since I've gone for a haircut. We can't technically afford it, but when the math ceases to work out and you rely on God for every single morsel, you honestly begin to believe he'll provide.

For instance, we can't afford a whole month of food either, and yet so far we've not gone hungry. Our van, our only vehicle, is twelve years old and has 156,000 miles on it. Buying a new, used van isn't an option, nor is repairing the one we've got, should it break down. I've worried about this over the past year, but now I've come to assume that God has a plan for our transportation needs. He knows Don can't work or get to school without a vehicle, and that we can't get to church without one. He knows our needs, before we pray about them.

Back to my hair. Assessing it this morning, I saw that the last four inches looked very unhealthy. I wanted to cry at the mess staring back at me.

I told my husband, "I've waited at least eight months. Do you think I can go get a quick, cheap haircut?"

My husband, whether good or bad, is beyond thinking we have any control over anything, so he just responded, "Sure."

So off I went on a mini retreat to the local Best Cuts, praying for a seasoned stylist, rather than one just out of school.

I sat for twenty-five minutes waiting for my turn. Relaxing doesn't begin to describe my experience there. As Anna's sleep issues worsen by the week, I have less and less time to unwind. My temper is often short, and I feel like I don't have control over anything. Or at least, control over the things that make up my agenda.

Today, I'm humbly reminded that

only His agenda matters.

Timothy, now six, was also an awful sleeper, leaving me little time during the day or evenings to accomplish anything. But, that kid is unquestionably a bit of a genius, so the all-night/day breastmilk diner just might have a purpose. I'm willing to go through it for another year, just in case. I think. Having at least two kids who practically homeschool themselves could benefit me for years--not to mention them. It just might be part of God's plan for my future sanity.

Anyhow, back to Best Cuts, and my mini retreat. After watching a very kind stylist cut an elderly gentleman's hair, smiling at him numerous times all the while, I thought, what a very gentle, sweet person she must be. She seemed to genuinely enjoy serving others. Not at all like cranky old me, who only wishes in my wildest dreams that I look that kind and gentle, as I serve others.

Finally, the gentleman left, and she cleaned up her area and made a personal-business phone call, prolonging my retreat. As she did these things, I just kept asking God for help. Help with my discouragement, help with my depression regarding aging, help with my motley crew of hyperactive children--lovable though they are, and help loving my over-studied, under-slept, extremely stressed out, cranky husband--lovable though he is.

In the next thirty minutes, as she cut my hair, she was like an angel in my midst. She told me how pretty my hair was (it's not), how healthy it was, and how 43 is not so old (it is). Can you tell my love language is affirming words?

Her oldest child, nearly 20, ventured out on his own, and is working on buying a house--one street away from her. She had him when she was 18, and what a wonderful job she did! You know you've done a good job when they want to live one street away!

I don't know much more of her story. She has a boyfriend and another son, aged fourteen. She is 38, and looks like my twin, only younger.

She was a friend to me, for those thirty minutes. I left encouraged, happier, less burdened, and less alone (somehow). It doesn't make sense, but that's how I felt. And when she gave me her card, I saw that she was the store manager. Thank you, God! LOL I got the best! She gave a great haircut, and she gave me tips on eventually buying a semi-permanent color, over-the-counter, to cover my white hairs.

Thank you God, for the angel of a person you put in my midst. Thank you for the gift of a haircut. Thank you for the lift in my spirits. Thank you for the friend. Thank you for allowing me the time away to be encouraged, so I can, in turn, encourage my children and my husband.

Thank you for always being there. For always providing. Everything.

hello

2009-11-09T17:10:00.000-05:00

I've not felt much like writing lately. The blogosphere is so full of inspirational posts that it's hard to write about discouragement and illness. I almost feel ungrateful when I write such posts. The truth is that I'm very grateful, but I can sometimes also get very discouraged.

My body wasn't done recovering from our other illness (which was probably H1N1--I compared notes with my sister), before this cold virus invaded around here. I am having more difficulty getting well. Still working on gaining weight. The nursing is using up all my calories, so nothing is sticking yet.

I hope you stay well, friends!

Perspective on Parenting

2009-11-05T10:13:00.000-05:00

I just quickly browsed an article detailing that authorities found the baby who was recently reported missing. She was hidden under a bed in the couple's home--doing well, despite having been there for five days. A miracle. Officers and their wives were so relieved that they all cried, upon hearing the good news.

It appears the perpetrators probably murdered another child ten years earlier, and also severely abused a daughter, who was subsequently taken away from them. The child missing for 10 years was never found, and no one was indicted.

Suddenly, allowing my kids too much Trick R Treat candy doesn't seem like bad parenting. Either does having "game day" instead of regular school. And it really wasn't so awful that I skipped their baths last night, having reached my maximum stress level before bath time.

I'm not patting myself on the back or anything. Just thanking God, and realizing that my kids are well loved.

some weeks beg for chocolate

2009-11-04T17:01:00.002-05:00

Top Ten Reasons To Go Out for Chocolate:

1. The kids wake up sick.....again.

2. Baby spills cereal and mashed banana on the dining room floor, and for the next 48 hours it doesn't get cleaned up--but not for lack of trying.

3. You haven't finished a meal in three days, and you're trying to gain weight.

4. Your two-year-old daughter is afraid of monsters, and after a month of crying (daughter and Momma), you move her in with her two brothers. Just when things start to calm down in there, Daylight Savings Time arrives.

5. The thrift store is your only entertainment. The economy is in recession.....a long one. The Edison bill got paid just two days before the shut-off deadline. If only you hadn't purchased those three-dollar pants at the thrift store. But when there's a budget shortfall of several hundred, what's the use?

6. Your baby, cranky because of a runny nose, demands to be swayed and paced for the duration of her naps. When you try to recline on the bed......finally.....she wakes up and starts crying.....again.

7. Your children, knowing there is Trick R Treat candy on top of the fridge, ask you for a piece, for the fourth time in a day. You throw the bag in front of them (not your finest parenting moment) and say, "Go ahead and rot your teeth!"

8. The sun refuses to come out and the color is gone from the trees.

9. School is out of the question, considering baby's fussiness. The best you can do is call it "Game Day" and get out a stack of educational games/puzzles. Later, you ask them to write about their favorite game. When they object, you say, "Then write about your favorite candy." They smile, and ask for another piece, so they can "copy down the correct spelling". You grant this request, with nary a complaint.

10. Over the last 48 hours, you've washed the same load of clothes twice, and fluffed another load 3 times, all because baby wouldn't stay asleep for more than fifteen minutes without Momma's soothing arms (teething and a cold).

But, yes, these are the best years of your life. Hands down. No sarcasm there.

Just don't run out of chocolate.

homeschooling after baby walks

2009-11-02T11:25:00.012-05:00

Wondering how to manage homeschooling after baby learns to walk (or crawl)? Here is our solution. We are blessed to have a family room and a large living room, so we decided to create, in the living room, an inviting and safe place for Anna Grace to play. It is close to the dining room, where most of the schooling takes place. From a certain chair at the dining room table, I can see what Anna is doing, and sing to her or play with her when I don't need to be directly involved with the schooling.

I should add that Anna's love language is physical touch, rather than quality time. This may not work so well for a quality time baby, who is only happy when Momma or Daddy is with her. Emily Rose and Daniel and Don are quality time people, and they rarely desire to be alone. Timothy and Anna take after me more.

The older children play in the family room, which we made into a playroom as soon as we moved to this house. We bought a jean couch, which has proven to be a good buy for a playroom (dark colored, easy to clean).

Anyhow, back to Anna's area. We arranged storage boxes to keep her out of dangerous corners, and out of the rest of the house. Furniture is arranged in a circle, so that there are only two exits--on either side of the couch.

I have always found, as a parent and earlier as a teacher, that toys and books need to be displayed in order to be utilized heavily. Tucking them away in crowded toy boxes doesn't entice kids. Likewise, books crowded into a bookshelf don't get used as often as those put in tubs and arranged around the room.

These storage boxes are the perfect height for Anna to manipulate the displayed toys and books. We change the toys and books every week to keep interest level high.

The floor quickly becomes a mess, over which baby can trip. We often jump in here and rearrange or pick up.

Putting noise-maker or push-button toys up on a couch or chair makes it easier for baby to use them.

This area is behind the couch, and not accessible to baby. I try to arrange books in tubs in every room, to entice Emily Rose and the boys to pick one up frequently. The magazine rack on the right-hand side has nature magazines in it. The bulk of the children's books are in shelves in the playroom, due to lack of space. I've been buying books--lately at thrift stores, earlier through Scholastic--for many years!

I didn't become an avid reader until the fourth grade, when I got hooked on Nancy Drew books. Don't despair if your elementary reader still loves being read to more than reading alone. It just might happen in upper elementary, when a certain chapter book series begins to float his boat. Start reading chapter books when they'll sit for them. This gives them a sampling of what's out there.

growing old gracefully

2009-11-01T22:07:00.001-05:00

Not long ago I was at the thrift store trying on clothes. We don't have any mirrored closet doors, or full length mirrors in our house. There was one once, in the hall, but the kids' shopping cart clobbered it. I've yet to get my husband to buy another and hang it elsewhere.

There are around thirty regular readers of this blog, but I only know a few things about a handful of you. You're a young lot, compared to me. Anything I say about aging will be foreign to you, no doubt, but bare with me as I try coming to terms with this cruelty.

I used to have a 33-23-33 figure, which was too skinny by some accounts. Now, skinnier then I've ever been due to the recent illness, my body measures differently at the waist (25.5), but pretty much the same elsewhere. That said, my current shape doesn't resemble what I lived with for my first 35 years. Each pregnancy, including the miscarriages, changed it, even though the numbers on a tape measure aren't remarkably different.

As I stared at the body I hadn't seen for a long while, I was shocked. Varicose veins rendered my once good-looking legs a total disaster. After this last pregnancy, I even have varicosities high on one of my inner thighs. No stretch marks, but I'd gladly trade them for the bulging, sometimes-painful veins.

The calf-muscle tone I once enjoyed from frequent gym visits is all but gone. Walking is my exercise of choice, but it doesn't build or maintain muscle, unless one can do it daily.

There are sun spots, freckles and wrinkles on my arms and hands. I now have some idea why my 72-year-old aunt never wears short sleeves.

My once perky breasts, full of milk, no longer stand at attention. They sag, and when the milk is gone, they will be a vision of deflated, wrinkled ugliness. It isn't nursing that causes the unsightly sag--it's pregnancy itself.

My behind, once high, now hints that it will eventually become part of my thigh. Perhaps it too sags due to pregnancy, as well as to aging.

My children are absolutely worth every sag, every bulging vein--don't get me wrong. I don't mean to convey that I got a raw deal. My heart is full of gratitude that God gave me motherhood. The gratitude is so deep I can't begin to describe it.

Nevertheless, the image staring back at me was foreign and scary. I knew it was the tip of the iceberg. It will get far, far worse in just a decade.

What does it matter? Why be so vain? If I felt as old as I look, I wouldn't mind nearly so much. But I don't feel any different--I have the same energy and strength. Recently, my aunt told me she felt good all the way up to age 70, at which time she noticed less strength and energy.

As I glance at my young, taut-bodied children, with their beautiful, flawless skin, it feels as though we're somehow transferring our youth to them. That is how it must be, but how will I hide my jealousy from them, when I glance longingly at their curvy waists and smooth skin? And how will I avoid hating my own image in the mirror--wanting to run from it?

Husbands are visual. They can still manage to pour out the complements while we're in our forties, but what about our fifties and sixties? Will they want to turn away too? We can lift weights together perhaps, hoping to make the best of what's left?

All is not lost. During our wrinkled, sagging-skin years, we have our wisdom. It seldom shows up before then. We can think we are wise in our youth, but more years will prove we were wrong. Somehow, I'll need to befriend this scary body, and be thankful for any wisdom that comes my way.

Growing old gracefully, with joy, humor and lack of regret, is high on my to-do list. I haven't a clue how I'll manage it, but I must.

Momma's inner Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle

2009-10-27T22:27:00.000-04:00

Daniel and Timothy adore that Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle. It's their mother, however, who giggles the most at Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle and her clever, endearing, naughty-behavior fixes.

Take the answer-backer cure, for example. Momma Pam found herself quite unable to get through a paragraph of that chapter without frequently erupting in uncontrollable giggling. Her boys, amused at their mother at first, soon became quite annoyed at these delays in the storytelling.

Penelope, a parrot, is Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle's cure for answer-backer children. The premise is that once the child hears how horrid he sounds, he will want to be pleasant and polite again. Penelope is very rude indeed, and repeats every answer-backer thing she's heard the children say.

Here are her favorite answer-backs:

"I'll do it because I want to but not because you tell me to."

"Say are you the boss around here? Are you the boss around here? Are you the boss around here? Who's the boss, anyway?"

"Oh, yeah? Oh yeah? Oh yeah?"

"What am I, a servant? Work! Work! Work! What am I, a servant? Say who's the boss around here?"

"Oh, hurry, hurry, hurry. Hurry yourself!"

Now Momma Pam's boys don't usually sass their parents, but they do their fair share of objecting and arguing. So the morning after reading this chapter, Momma Pam decided to get in touch with her inner Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle.

When the boys objected to the morning directions--"Brush your teeth, make your beds, and then get dressed"--Momma Pam hopped up and down like Penelope, and squawked, "Say who's the boss around here? Who's the boss around here? Who's the boss around here?"

The boys giggled and giggled. And then they happily followed the directions. They thought their Momma was sooo cool. Very cool, indeed.

Until the afternoon, at which time Timothy could no longer take it.

Momma Pam: "After Cyber Chase you need to clear the construction paper, glue sticks, scissors and scraps off the table. We need to set it for dinner."

Boys: "But we can't! We're not done with our creations!"

Momma Pam: "Work! Work! Work! What am I, a servant? Who's the boss around here?"

The boys--or Timothy at least--no longer thought this new game was funny.

Timothy: "That's really starting to annoy me!"

Momma Pam: "Oh, you don't say. Is Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle's cure working, then?"

Timothy: "Yes! I can't take it anymore!"

Now you moms out there be sure and practice your answer-backs in front of the mirror. And don't forget the hopping around part. You never know when you'll need to start channeling Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle.

Solomon, Laughter, and Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle

2009-10-25T11:22:00.006-04:00

There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under heaven:

a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain,
a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.

The above wisdom from Solomon in Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 has been such a help to me over the years. We had been married only sixteen months when we buried our first baby, a boy we named Isaac Abraham. In those months of intense grief following his death, I would look at our wedding pictures and marvel at how happy and innocent we looked (even though we were 33 and 40 at the time). How could we have known the doom that would come upon us, just sixteen months later? As I mourned, I read this passage many times. It reminded me that the doom wouldn't last forever.

And it didn't; God was faithful. We knew joy again, and we knew we were richer for having wept.

After we became engaged, I wanted intimacy with my love so very much. But we waited. It was one of the hardest things I've had to do, but once again, these verses helped. I repeated over and over in my mind that there was "a time to embrace and a time to refrain".

Right now my husband in under intense pressure while he takes these extremely technical computer courses. There is massive reading and sometimes as many as twelve new terms to memorize on just two pages of text. He isn't sleeping much and he's a horrible, stressed-out grouch. The first exam should be taken in two weeks time, so that it's out of the way before they start a new topic--networking.

He can no longer help around here, so every detail of our lives has fallen on me. Cooking relaxes him so he insists on continuing with that for now. Going to the store alone (and blogging) are about the only relaxation activities I can grab, and even they have to be done quickly.

Once again, I've gone to Solomon's book for wisdom on how we might navigate these times.

What stands out at me now? "A time to be silent and a time to speak" and "A time to weep and a time to laugh".

The being silent part is necessary wisdom for me now because my husband is driving me crazy! Enough said there. I don't want to sound like a drippy faucet!

Laughter is an often overlooked tool in families with serious parents. We are guilty of overlooking it, and we simply can't make that mistake right now. I picked up Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle, by Betty MacDonald, for 25 cents during a recent thrift store visit. Last night I began reading this treasure of a book to the children. Oh, how we laughed! It's a must-have read aloud!

Here is an excerpt:

The little girl's name was Mary Lou Robertson and she was eight years old and quite fat, and she was running away from home. She told Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle all this after she had drunk three cups of cambric tea and eaten seven sugar cookies. She said, "I'm running away from home because I hate to wash dishes. All I do is wash dishes. I am just a servant. Dishes! Dishes! Dishes! Wash, dry, put away. That's all I do. My mother doesn't love me at all. She isn't my real mother, anyway. She probably got me out of an orphanage just to wash her dishes." Mary Lou began to cry again, so that the eighth sugar cooky got quite soggy before she finished it.

Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle said, "Isn't she your real mother?"
Mary Lou said, "She says she is but no real mother would make you wash dishes. Wash dishes! Wash dishes!"

"Now that's a funny thing," said Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle. "I mean your hating to wash dishes so much, because you see, I like to wash dishes. In fact I enjoy washing dishes so much that a cause of great sorrow to me is the fact that the only dishes I must wash are for Wag, Lightfoot and me (her dog and cat). Three or four dishes a meal, that is all."

In the next two pages Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle uses fantasy (a beautiful princess and a witch) to transform Mary Lou's hatred of dishes into a profound love of cleaning the whole kitchen, to perfection--dishes included.

I don't really like witches, but that part is a fraction of the whole book. Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle, once very lonely, becomes the best friend of all the area children. They come to play every day after school, and Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle, in a Mary Poppin's kind of way, teaches them the lessons of life--without them having a hint of her motives. It's truly hilarious! My boys were mesmerized, and we all had fits of giggling.

Laughter, like exercise, chocolate and sex, releases those very important mood-elevating endorphins. I've learned that since laughter doesn't roll out of us naturally, I must consciously bring it into the house. Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle is our answer right now!

words of wisdom for a slump

2009-10-24T23:02:00.001-04:00

I managed to get way behind in blog reading. Relaxing and catching up a little, I came across a great post from the Large Family Mothering blog. I have pasted a portion of the post below. Lots of wisdom to be found in these words!

Caveat: I'm not a fan of the Quiverfull Movement, as this blog author is (15 children), but I do enjoy most of her posts, nonetheless. Quiverfull Christians feel that every Christian family should have as many children as God allows. While they are entitled to believe this and band together, I think it's a devisive, distracting movement in the Christian church. Andrea Yates, the mother who killed her five children due to post-partum psychosis, was a member of this movement, although the movement tries to distance itself from Andrea's story. In my mind, Andrea's story is an example of why we mustn't burden Christians with extra-Scriptural rules. Scripture says to be fruitful and multiple, but it doesn't say how many times, or for how long. Regardless of how we personally interpret the word "fruitful", we can't try to define it for another family. It goes both ways, in terms of the passing judgment; large families are judged frequently too.

Anyhow, I glean much from this blog author's hard-fought wisdom, so I overlook the whole Quiverfull matter. Her life hasn't been easy (raised in a broken, non-Christian home), but her heart is on fire for the Lord. She adores her husband and children, and her posts reflect wisdom, humility, and strength. Their family recently emerged out of many months of joblessness.

Here is the excerpt from her post:
____________________________________________
Depression, loneliness, and fear are the weapons the enemy wields. I know from experience just how heavy the burden can be. I understand just what it means to be completely demoralized and hopeless.

I have learned that we need to be like the builders of the wall of Jerusalem; working while ready with weapons.

And our weapons are not worldly, but Heavenly powerful. They are as follows:

The Word of God

Thankfulness

Praise

Prayer

Singing

If we want to fight effectively, we must be in the Word day and night. Only the Word of God can change our old patterns of thinking. It is cleansing and refreshing.

Being thankful keeps us from being darkened in our minds. There is nothing as hateful as being in the presence of someone who sees everything as being half-empty. And be ye thankful is a commandment that we must take seriously; even for bad things, trusting that God will turn them into good, according to Romans 8:28.

Praising and magnifying the Lord is the way we must live. There are too many voices that tell us that God is small, irrelevant or non-existent. When we adore and magnify the Lord, all those other voices are silenced and great courage rises up in our hearts. We are obeying the MOST HIGH! Once praise in practiced, it is like we become energized with a bolt of lightening so that everything we do becomes lighter and we experience true joy.

We must learn to pray, and often. This prayer is the type that your whole life is a communion and conversation with the Holy Spirit. Wonder what to do about a disciplinary problem? Pray. Wonder how to stretch the budget? Pray. Wonder how to keep from blowing your top with your husband? Pray. And pray expectantly—He loves to answer these prayers for us.

Lastly, singing is something that will boost yourself and your whole household. This is something mankind has done from the beginning. When we sing, we engage our whole being, and we cause our minds and emotions to be engaged in agreement to the new spirit God has created within us. I have found scripture songs to be the most effective in giving me strength, direction and courage throughout the day. I have read accounts of saints that were raised by Godly mothers who had this practice of singing, and this is one of their fondest memories.

Father, you know that I am weak, and you know that I cannot do this work without You today. Like King David, help me to encourage myself through Your word and sing songs to You in praise and thanksgiving. May it not only lighten my heart, but the hearts of my husband and children. There is so much heaviness and so many attacks; be our refuge and strong tower today as we bless Your name.
In the name of Your precious Son, Jesus.

Amen
Posted by ladyofvirtue at 5:59 AM

good finds (nutritionally)

2009-10-23T15:19:00.000-04:00

Did you know I have standards? Perfectionists tend to be slaves to these things called standards. Mostly, it's a curse. The average mom of four probably just goes with the flow when all family members, sick and weak, stop picking up after themselves. The house might look like a bombing site, but she just laughs about it, and maybe even takes photos for the Christmas letter.

And then there's me. The perfectionist. My house is never perfect--not even close. But my standards never relax. They stay in place, driving me insane, and keeping me awake at night. When I can get up a few hours before the family, things will improve, but probably not to the extent I'd like.

That said, there is one good thing about my standards. It's my grocery shopping. I check labels. 100% whole wheat bread has to have at least 3 grams of fiber per slice. I check serving sizes, to make sure I'm not being cheated out of my fiber. Three grams of fiber, per slice. Not per two slices.

And tortillas have to have at least four grams of fiber each. Along with the refried beans and the 7% lean ground turkey, they make for a very healthy dinner. The cheese provides the fat that the children need.

Recently, my not-so-beloved Walmart Supercenter stopped carrying the high-fiber (5 grams) multi-grain tortillas that we like. At first, I thought it was their maddening habit of not hiring enough stockers. No matter what time of day I shop, their shelves are missing something I need. But five consecutive trips have confirmed that my favorite tortilla went the way of my favorite whole wheat pizza. Slashed. Replaced.

The replacement is something called Flatout Flatbread. It's made with stone ground 100% whole wheat and includes flax seed. Flax seed is good stuff. Try adding it to your pancakes! Finally, the kicker is that this flatbread has 8 grams of fiber per slice! It's fine in recipes requiring tortillas, and you can even use it to make a personal pizza (it's thicker than a tortilla).

Now I knew it had to pass muster with my terribly persnickety Timothy. It didn't. He took one bite of his burrito that first night and said, "Yuck, this isn't my regular tortilla."

Momma (trying to keep cool): "Yes, that's true Timothy. They don't carry our tortilla anymore. But this happens to be even healthier, and I think it tastes very good."

Timothy: "I only like my regular tortilla!" (He can sound like such a brat at the dinner table!)

Yesterday's trip to Walmart again turned up negative on our regular tortilla. So I bought the Flatout Flatbread again, but this time I also bought pizza cheese and pizza sauce, and a small package of the terrible-for-you pepperonis. They are high in everything that is bad, but if we put only four or five on each pizza, we'll survive. The serving size is about 15 pepperonis, totaling 12 grams of fat. Yuck! But we all lost too much weight recently, so maybe they're okay for this month.

My guess is that tonight Timothy will not complain about the Flatout Flatbread. He loves to make his own dinner!

Not that I'm keeping score with Timothy, but if I were, here is how I think it will go.

Momma = 3 points for the three extra grams of fiber, -1 point for losing the fiber in the refried beans.

Timothy = -3 for having to eat 3 extra grams of fiber, +1 for getting Momma to buy pepperonis

Another great buy for your family:

Baked Barbecue Lays Potato Chips
Nutrition
14 chips = 3 grams fat
Calories = 120

It's best to stick to 3 grams of fat per 100 calories. It's recommended we don't get more than 30% of our total calories from fat. Fat = 9 calories per gram Carbohydrates = 4 calories per gram. I'm not a fan of low-carb diets. They're just bad nutrition IMHO. Follow the food pyramid for good nutrition.

Chip nutrition, cont.
potassium = 230 mg
fiber = 2 grams
calcium = 2%
thiamin = 4%
niacin = 4%
phosphorus = 6%
vitamin C = 4%
riboflavin = 6%
vitamin B6 = 8%
magnesium = 4%

some catching up

2009-10-22T19:06:00.003-04:00

I wanted to report by now that good health has once again returned. However, we are all still coughing and dealing with lower energy levels. Sinus infections don't go away easily, I'm discovering. I've taken to boiling water and putting my head over the pan several times a day, to ensure that the intense pain doesn't return.

The financial stress we've been under (six months without a full-time job), is something I've endured pretty well. Recently though, with the added health stress, my positive outlook has taken a nosedive. The economy just isn't recovering. I find myself praying daily for greater endurance. I know God won't stop providing, but I'm just so weary.

Our neighbor has been out of work since January (specialized work in the auto business). My cousin Rick in CA--who owns a custom landscaping business--can't find any work and may lose his house. He previously did very well financially, meaning he has a hefty house payment. Unfortunately, his set of skills is very specialized; I don't recall him ever doing any other kind of work.

All of us have heard sad stories, I'm sure.

Hardship is a great teacher. We mustn't forget that, even as the recession drags on.

A friend of my husband's called the other day, out of the blue. Don couldn't really get out of telling Jim about the job loss, but he did reassure Jim that we're meeting all our bills. In an act of great kindness, Jim sent a $100.00 check, which arrived a few days later. Our cell phone bill was nearly a month overdue (Don didn't know this). We don't have a land phone, so paying our cell bill was a necessity. We both got teary-eyed over the blessing, but accepting it was hard. Yes, God put it on Jim's heart to do this, and we're grateful. It's just that we would really like to get back to paying our own expenses.

This aspect of hardship is harder on me than on Don. There are givers and takers in the world, and many people in between. Don is in between; I am a heavy giver. Taking feels so unnatural. I can see God wanting me to learn how to receive, but does He have to drag it out this long? Good grief! (And yes, I was telling the truth about the jackets, Dear Reader (who sent me an e-mail). We all have jackets! Bless your heart!)

In another random act of kindness, Don's sister sent a $300 check, to ensure that Don has sufficient funds to take his first computer-certification exam. Someone rear-ended her vehicle recently, and she received a $550 dollar check from the driver's insurance company. She decided to have her son fix her car, enabling her to send some of the insurance money to Don. We had another teary-eyed letter-opening session. God is so faithful. And so are his servants! We are blessed beyond measure, truly; I have no right to be feeling so down.

Yesterday Daniel and I attended his first counseling session. I gave a detailed history, and the therapist made a diagnosis and wrote treatment goals. Daniel has Generalized Anxiety Disorder (runs in my family). He will see his therapist once a week, until the goals have been met.

He is still off his ADHD meds. I'm happy to report that, with the token behavior system we're using, he's been more manageable this week.

On the way home from the appointment, Daniel asked me if Amanda (therapist's name) loved Jesus. I replied, "I don't know if she does or not, but even if she doesn't, she can still teach you strategies for dealing with your fears. She went to college to learn how to help people manage their feelings, and I think she enjoys her job. Once you get to know her, maybe you can tell her about Jesus."

I watched him in the rear-view mirror as I said this. He just smiled. God will use my Daniel in mighty ways. The poor guy has some handicaps that I wouldn't wish on anyone, but he also has a heart of gold, and a deep love for his Savior.

Last night during prayer time at AWANA class, the teacher asked the children to take turns praying. Daniel prayed that he would do well next week, when he talked to Amanda about his fears. Timothy told God that he loved Him, and that he wanted to love Him forever and ever.

My boys can really rattle my nerves. Pretty often. But last night, their prayers blessed me beyond measure! It was the boldness, the sweetness, and the sincerity. With all this recent stress, I've felt like such a failure as a mother. Their prayers helped me remember that I'm not the one raising my children. God is.

And he is a perfect parent.

Down

2009-10-18T12:05:00.000-04:00

When Momma takes care of four sick kids, night after night, there are consequences--like a weakened immune system. By the time I fell sick, my body was already depleted. Quickly, a sinus infection took root. I tried to handle the pain, but after three days, I made my way to the emergency room, ready to beg for pain relief.

But lo and behold, I didn't have to beg. I must have looked so terrible, the nice doctor actually asked if I wanted something stronger for the pain. With a prescription for an antibiotic and for Darvocet, I made my way to the pharmacy. Thankfully, I only needed the pain drug for about the next twenty-hour hours.

Five days later, I still feel like I'm recovering from a surgery or something. Bacterial infections wipe you out like nothing else. Poor Anna Grace also has a sinus infection, so both of us are a couple of weaklings right now.

Hopefully, regular blogging can resume soon.

Have a nice Sunday! Try to stay well. Run your humidifiers at the first sign of a cold, or all the time during the heating season--even in the adult bedroom. Manage the congestion early! Don't make the same mistake I did!

thankful

2009-10-13T19:49:00.001-04:00

I just finished listening to Daniel read in his second-grade Bob Jones reading book. Some Christian curriculum companies charge a lot of money and merely put Bible verses (in small print) on some of their pages. I think it's rather disingenuous to sell that as Christian curriculum.

Bob Jones University Press does more than that. A good portion of the stories in the reader are Christian stories, like today's Billy Sunday story. It was about a little girl who went to a tent meeting with her father to hear Billy Sunday preach. Her father told her about Billy Sunday's successful baseball career, and about how God had a special plan for Billy Sunday's life. Listening to Billy Sunday that evening, the little girl was prompted to accept Christ as her Savior.

On their way home, her father assured her that God had a special plan for her life, just as He did for Billy Sunday's. Daniel and I both had tears in our eyes by the end of the story. And this isn't the first story that has moved us to tears. My Daniel always looks up at me and smiles when he sees that the story of the day is a Christian story.

I am just so thankful to be homeschooling my children. And thankful we chose Bob Jones for our curriculum! My prayer is that we will always have the freedom to educate our own children, and point them toward their Savior.

Oatmeal = comfort

2009-10-12T16:17:00.000-04:00

By late afternoon yesterday, it seemed we were over the tummy ailment. I decided it was time to bake some cookies. My children, already pretty lean, were now looking way too skinny. Besides, Momma was stressed out and looking for some comfort food. Oatmeal cookies = comfort.

Please forgive any mess you see in the background. My excuse? I was busy loving on the kiddos.

They were too sick for school most of these days (or so they said), but they managed to do the reading and fraction work involved in a batch of cookies.

Emily Rose helps with the measuring, and with ensuring that a royal mess is made--everywhere. She tastes the flour, the sugar, the butter, the salt, and then later, the cookie dough. While she's tasting, she's dancing around as happy as a lark, spreading the ingredients along with her.

She is such a sunny little girl. I kept telling her how sorry I was that she was sick, especially when I would see her in obvious discomfort. She would respond, with her hoarse, sore throat, "I'm not sick, Mommy. I'm happy!" Somehow, the word sick seemed to convey unhappiness to her, as well as discomfort--no doubt due to her brothers' severely decreased activity these last several days. She wants nothing to do with the unhappiness part.

Don, Anna and I have a cold. So I guess we did catch three viruses. Daniel hasn't gotten the mouth sores yet, so he might escape the Hand, Foot and Mouth thing.

I'll always remember the fall I took my children to the doctor for a flu shot--only to leave his office with three viruses. LOL

Oh Boy

2009-10-11T14:28:00.000-04:00

Please say a prayer for us.

The children have Hand, Foot, and Mouth Disease (comes in summer or early fall), evidenced by painful sores in their mouths. Trouble is, they also have had diarrhea and vomiting, persistent productive coughing, and some mild nighttime croup, all of which are not part of Hand, Foot, and Mouth Disease. There is no evidence of a bacterial infection, no ear infection, or any unmanageable breathing problems, so I don't need to take them to the doctor (not yet anyway...they're still sick).

We either have three different viruses (above mentioned, then a cold, and also a stomach bug) or they have the Hand, Foot, and Mouth Disease, along with the swine flu, which causes tummy problems and respiratory problems. It's too early for the regular seasonal flu in this area. Still, all symptoms are mild enough that I don't need to take them in.

The whole thing is really waring on Don and me. We are exhausted, and now we are having trouble with Daniel's behavior. We took him off his ADHD medicine to see if it was causing the extreme anxiety. I had to cancel his therapist appointment and reschedule it for two weeks from now, due to this illness.

Rosey has begun a fear of monsters, worsened by the shadows in her room (nightlight creates the shadows). She's battling insomnia due to the pain of the sores in her mouth, and due to the monster fear.

Things are just really hard right now. Your prayers would be appreciated.

Baby is well so far, but if she gets the mouth sores, it will be hard to nurse. Dehydration is the main risk from Hand, Foot, and Mouth, due to the difficulty in swallowing liquid or food.

Don't you love cold and flu season? For the six months of winter, parenting can be a lot like boot camp.

diversity in one family

2009-10-09T13:15:00.001-04:00

Personalities. It's amazing how varied they can be in the same family.

Timothy: Vomited for over 24 hours with nary a complaint. He suffered in silence--his mood unaffected.

Rosey: Started with a fever in the middle of the night. Smiled at me as I soothed her. This morning, in her big-girl, helpful way, she made a point of telling me, goodnaturedly "I've got my bowl, Mommy." (Mommy requires that everyone walk around with a bowl when vomit is on the horizon.)

Daniel: Started with a fever and one vomiting incident in the middle of the night. I went in to help him, and he offered in a loud voice, "I'm going to die! I can barely move!" After several other demands and grouchy utterances, he came up with, "Will I be able to watch TV like Timmy did? But the couch isn't big enough for both of us! Can I pick the movie?"

I stand in awe of their uniqueness, and sometimes feel overwhelmed while trying to meet their diverse needs. Diversity is beautiful, however. God's design is flawless.

A Hefalump

2009-10-08T18:35:00.001-04:00

Earlier I checked out the Pooh Hefalump movie from the library, to enhance Timothy's stuck-on-the-couch experience. He still hasn't perked up this afternoon, although he seemed to thoroughly enjoy the movie. Pooh never fails to entertain us.

A couple hours later I came into my bedroom to hang up some clothes, and I saw Daniel doing something in here in the dark. He jumped when I came in, and immediately said, "I'm sorry! I got string stuck everywhere!"

Yes, indeed. There was white string all over my bedroom, wrapped around the crib, the computer desk, etc.

Just another mess. When life is crazy and stressful anyway, I tend to underreact to such things. I merely said, "What in the world were you trying to do?"

What was his answer? Can you guess?

"I was trying to trap a hefalump!"

new photos

2009-10-08T12:39:00.002-04:00

I've got the camera working. This first photo is Daniel's beloved salamander.

Here is my Emily, hanging out.

Here is Anna Grace--10 months old today--playing with the big girl toys. She is walking very well--losing that drunken-sailor, new-walker stride.

Here is my Timothy, down for the count. He was sick as a dog yesterday, feverish and listless. He was glad he didn't have to pay any of his token-behavior-system, play-money dollars for any of the TV he watched. TV is free for sickos around here; it's the only way to get them to rest. Today he is throwing up and still feverish. I think we're in for it around here.

I cuddled with Timothy while he watched Charlotte's Web--stroking his face and hair. As much as I could, I spent special time with him all day. Then last night as I was tucking him in, he grabbed my neck to give me another hug. He whispered in his sick-boy, hoarse voice, that he loved me taking care of him. That made me feel like a million bucks! I do love being a nurse to my sweeties.

They all got their regular flu shots last Thursday. He either picked this virus up at church, or in the doctor's office. How catch 22 is that? Go to the doctor's office for a shot to stay well, and then get sick from your well visit. That works for me. NOT!

We wash our hands in the van with gel, and then with soap and water when we get home. I explained numerous times that they probably won't get sick if they keep their hands off their face. Then suddenly, they have an insatiable desire to touch their face. Gotta love kids!

A couple good consignment-shop finds--both warm corduroy fabrics

pride before the fall

2009-10-07T11:57:00.000-04:00

Anna Grace is our only baby who hasn't fallen off our bed. They all rolled sooner than we imagined they would. We were caught off-guard the first time, and just plain stupid when the other two fell.

So of course since Anna hasn't fallen off the bed, we thought we had it going on as parents.

Until this week.

Pride goeth before the fall.

Anna stood up in her high chair Sunday night. I said to Don, "Honey, she is standing up in her high chair now. We have to watch out for it."

Next morning, I forgot what she had done the night before. I gave her Cheerios and then went to quickly hang up some shirts in the boys' closet.

I heard the blood-curdling cry. I ran out there expecting to see blood everywhere.

There she was, sitting on her bottom, on the floor, crying her eyes out. No blood. No head injury.

She fell on her bottom. Yes, her bottom! That's the grace of God at work, surely.

He gave me a second warning. This time I won't mess up again.

Praise you, Jesus!

a privilege

2009-10-06T16:07:00.005-04:00

Notes on my scheduling endeavor:

There is some disagreement among child-development experts as to whether or not schedules are good for kids. Generally, they aren't thought to be beneficial for the preschool set, since young children learn best through spontaneous (or facilitated) play. Ideally, a parent or teacher sets out age-appropriate materials for the preschooler to manipulate, which leads to discovery learning. Routines are more appropriate than schedules for this age group.

I model my homeschooling/home management schedules after the Manager's of Their Homes book, by Steve and Terri Maxwell. A few FlyLady tips and routines are incorporated too. I write it all out in half-hour increments, mostly so that I can adequately address all of my goals. The entire endeavor starts in prayer, and then in listing goals for individuals and for the family. Larger families need this especially.

For example, If I don't create a time slot for reading to my baby and for reciting nursery rhymes to her, these things easily get crowded out by chores. The consequences of leaving these things out are that down the road, she won't have the bond with me that she needs, and she won't have an easy time learning to read.

Starting each homeschool segment in prayer is also very important to me, and if I don't make room for this, it too, would get crowded out.

The children don't look at the schedule and feel confined by it. I look at it frequently at first, as it helps me fall into a routine; once that happens, I can take it down.

Incidentally, there hasn't been a single day in which I was able to do all the things on the schedule. And that doesn't bother me. I see it more as a prayful list of my priorities.

Last evening because of Anna's teething, presumably, she awoke every half-hour after being put down at 8:00 pm. I had to keep nursing or cuddling her back to sleep. Tylenol would have helped, but now they say too much Tylenol in baby's first year puts them at risk for asthma. The pediatrician used to give me a sample of Tylenol after every well-baby visit that included shots. Now he doesn't, due to the new research. I've been trying not to resort to Tylenol unless she can't fall asleep at all, or unless she can't nurse at all.

Anyhow, by the third wake-up, I had only blogged for a half hour, shuffled laundry once, and straightened up the playroom. The interruptions meant that I had to give up and go to bed with her before any sweeping got done, or before I could disinfect the counters or pick up all her toys. Certainly, it was frustrating to wake up to crumbs and Cheerios and toys on the floors. If I let myself, I could even cry about how frustrating teething is!

However, each time I cuddled or nursed her back to sleep, I also got to study her sweet face, with its delicate features and incredibly soft skin. My heart jumped for joy as I saw her little mouth continuing the sucking motions, after she released the breast. All was a reminder that loving and comforting a baby is a privilege--each and every time.

The things on my schedule will wait; they will always be there. Nursing and cuddling her will pass away-- sooner than I can bare.

doggy daycare

2009-10-05T22:32:00.001-04:00

Late this afternoon Daniel and Timothy decided to take two stuffed dogs and put leashes around them (white string). I guess they're desperate for "real" pets? The salamander (as big as my index finger), toad, frog, water snail, and caterpillars don't count, I suppose?

Timothy: "Daniel, if we're going to take care of dogs, then we'll have to have a schedule."

Timothy: (A few minutes later) "Mommy, I need you to make me a chart on this piece of paper. I need to write a schedule that goes from 6 to 9:30. I just want the o'clocks and the thirties."

So Momma, much amused, took a ruler and wrote out one-inch lines for all the :00 (o'clocks) and the :30 (thirties), spanning from 6:00 a.m. to 9:30 p.m., using both sides of a piece of construction paper.

I then dressed the girls for outdoor play and headed to the backyard. Timothy, wanting help with spelling for his schedule, accompanied us and sat at a picnic table, sounding out his words and slaving away on this schedule. I could tell he got this idea from the schedule I have posted in the hallway, which goes from 6 a.m. to 9:30 p.m.

The whole time he worked (about 35 minutes), I marveled at his attention span! He's not six until next month!

Here is his masterpiece. I have half a mind to frame it. Yes, I find it that adorable. You have to imagine his work, painstakingly written in mixed lower and upper-case letters, with some letters backwards. Just adorable. During the afternoon part of the schedule he ran out of ideas, I suspect. He told me that dogs need a lot of playtime and naptime. :)

make bed
dressed
breakfast
walk
play
trick
spin
jump
lunch
nap
snack
tv
play
play
play
nap
play
nap
nap
nap
play
snack
play
play
nap
play
eta (eat)
but (bath)
slep(sleep)

high fives for momma

2009-10-03T16:40:00.000-04:00

I exercised discipline this morning. I know. Shocking.

You see, the house is disheveled. Don has been gone a lot and the multitude of nurse-maid, kid-style interruptions have prevented me from plowing forward on any domestic task. At night, I've been reading AD/HD books, rather than doing chores. Not wise, as it turns out.

I started the morning school-day routine, but the familiar I'm-drowning-in-clutter-and-crumbs stress began to overwhelm me. Last year, when it happened, Don would pack up everyone but the baby and take them to the park for two hours, allowing me to at least sweep, mop, declutter the kitchen counter, and shuffle laundry, uninterrupted--except for mixing in some baby hugs and nursery rhymes.

But homeschooling requires discipline. One can't make a habit of throwing lessons out the window when domestics get behind. Consistency is the key to learning. Plowing forward steadily is a must.

So I took deep breaths, and told myself I had to wait until tomorrow to catch up. (We do Saturday school.) Putting my ever-moving motor into park was excruciating, given the environment. But I did it.

High fives for Momma.

another perspective

2009-10-02T00:53:00.003-04:00

The other book I checked out at the library is entitled The ADD Answer, How To Help Your Child Now, by Dr. Frank Lawlis. I've just read sixty pages of it. It is much different from the other book--featured in yesterday's post--in that it is anti-medication, pro-psychology, and pro whole-child/whole-family care. Much is included regarding the psychological ramifications of labels (ADD/ADHD, etc), including their affect on the whole family. After reading these sixty pages, I'm ready to give up on the medication route, at least for a time. This author presents a very convincing case against medication.

Needless to say, my mind is full, and my spirit is troubled.

It's easy to say that medication should only be used in the worst of cases, when learning is affected, and then only for short periods of time. But inattentiveness isn't the only problem. The impulsivity of AD/HD makes Daniel a danger to himself and to his siblings. For example, I only allow him to be alone with the baby when she's in her playpen. If she is playing in the living room, I allow Daniel around her only if we are there to supervise. This isn't because he is mean or aggressive. Rather, it is because he is too physical, with frenzied, uncontrolled movements. While medicated, his physical movements are more controlled and predictable. I can walk away and not worry about what he might do. And, he receives far less negative feedback while medicated, because we're not having to harp on the multitude of things he needs to stop doing.

Incidentally, Emily Rose received her forehead scar and stitches earlier this year because Daniel was carrying her and impulsively dropped her, even though he had the strength to set her down gently. He never picked her up again after the accident, thank God. I'm relieved that he received this wake up call before something more serious happened.

I think the outcome for AD/HD children depends more on the feedback they receive from their families than anything else--including what their report cards say. We know that for every one negative interaction, they need ten positives to overcome the pervasive feeling of failure. But the tricky part is that it's nearly impossible to come up with that many positives, due to the annoying characteristics they display. Perhaps if the AD/HD child were the only child in the home, meeting their weighty emotional needs would be a relative breeze.

Right now, I feel very human--flawed, powerless, and defeated. I'm not a relaxed or good enough parent to give him what he needs. The anti-medication crowd gives compelling arguments--I'll give them that. When I read their writings, I desperately want to throw out everything in my medicine cupboard. Their modifications and interventions all sound very good on paper, but implementing them consistently in daily life, in moment-to-moment interactions, is another matter altogether.

I hate medication. I just hate it. It scares me that the safety testing for AD/HD drugs has been done on rats and on adult humans. It's a huge gamble to assume they're safe for most children.

Tonight, all I know for certain is one thing--the outcomes for Daniel's life are up to God. The more I try to make them up to me, the greater my disservice to my son.

some help

2009-10-01T14:35:00.000-04:00

Today was Daniel's monthly AD/HD appointment at his pediatrician's office. I brought up the increased anxiety, and the doctor said it was time for Daniel to be seen by a therapist. I was so relieved! This is a long time in coming. This pediatrician in the past several months has had the attitude that while AD/HD rarely travels alone, the related disorders could be diagnosed and treated in later years, when Daniel was mature enough to participate in his own treatment. While I thought it was true that trying to counsel a seven year old would be hard for a therapist, I also felt that at least it would get us started and would ensure that as parents, we were responding to Daniel's anxiety in an appropriate, supportive manner. I don't want to coddle him, or be overly dismissive. I want my son to experience childhood as a time of joy and discovery--not anxiousness.

When I called the clinic to make the appointment, I told the receptionist that it was the pediatrician's opinion that the AD/HD meds were not causing the increased anxiety. She said we would start with a therapist, but later a psychiatrist could get involved, to evaluate and give a second opinion about the medicinal route we had taken.

I feel very positive and suspect that this whole thing will lead to a thorough psychiatric evaluation. Don's nephew has bipolar disorder and two other disorders, and on my side of the family there is agoraphobia (fear of crowds and of leaving the house), and other panic disorders. Certainly, given Daniel's symptoms, a lengthy evaluation is in order.

We'll be seen next Thursday for two hours, and after that the appointments will be one hour each. I'll keep you posted!

token behavior systems

2009-09-30T23:30:00.008-04:00

Last week I checked out Colleen Alexander-Roberts' book, The AD/HD Parenting Handbook, Practical Advice for Parents from Parents, proven techniques for raising hyperactive children without losing your temper (2nd Edition)

The author dealt with moderate to severe AD/HD symptoms and successfully utilized a play-money token behavior system. Her children were also on medication. She writes:

"In our home we used play money. We had a chart with household rules on it. Each rule was worth a specific amount, anywhere from one dollar to twenty. Every time our son followed a rule, he received the agreed amount. The money he earned was placed in an envelope for one week. During the week he had to spend this money. We charged him five dollars an hour to play a video game, two dollars an hour to ride his bike, ten dollars an hour to play games on the computer, three dollars to watch a rented video, and two dollars to watch an hour of television. Every Saturday, he turned in what was left of the money he earned. For every ten dollars in play money he turned in, he received one dollar in cash. He was able to spend this money as he wished or save it for something special he wanted to buy. In this case, once we gave a reward (the play money, for instance), we never took the reward away. Instead, for noncompliance we used time-out, took away a privilege, or assigned an extra household chore. We never took away what he had already been rewarded."

"We used this play-money system very successfully for quite some time. The original household rules were replaced by new house rules two months after we initiated this system; we had achieved the desired effect. However, no reward system works forever, so be ready to substitute another system when needed. Always seek professional help if reward systems do not work with your child."

I started a sticker chart with Daniel and Timothy on our first day of school. The thing is, I hate sticker charts! They do work with my boys, but I eventually get bored of them (or too busy) and drop the ball. Already, yesterday and again today, I forgot to update their stickers.

Today I discussed this new system with them, and they seem quite intrigued. Momma is intrigued for a number of reasons, not the least of which is this system's potential for curbing screen time. So off we went to the dollar store, in search of play money.

Incidentally, I hate the idea of charging play money for a bike ride. That seems counter-productive to me, since exercise is healthy and desired and especially beneficial to AD/HD children. Yeah, charge money for any type of screen time, but not for exercise.

We're jumping in and starting the play-money system tomorrow. They are excited. I am resolved to do everything I can to make it work. For a successful school day, there are two rules I really need them to follow:

1. Follow directions the first time they're given.
2. Clean up without arguing.

There are five rules altogether, but these are the two that really make a difference in our school day. My boys hate clean-up time. I've struggled for all these years with their poor clean-up attitudes. Partly, the difficulty is due to the bin organization system for our playroom. Putting smallish things into the correct bins is a lot more difficult than throwing all the toys into one large toybox.

Anyhow, I'll keep you posted on the wonders of play money.

If you have difficulty getting your child moving in the morning, she suggests that each step of the morning routine be written out for your child, in words or pictures. None of her suggestions are particularly novel, but she has plenty of them, for many different problem areas. The book also includes ideas from many other AD/HD-seasoned parents.

There is also a very good chapter--written by a physician friend of hers--on AD/HD medications (penned in 2006).

glitches

2009-09-29T20:25:00.001-04:00

Oh, how I loved my new sleep schedule! Life was seeming so much like a breeze. Okay, well...not really a breeze--just a relative breeze. But, alas, it's been thwarted by my problematic sleeper, Anna Grace. She is apparently getting a third tooth, although I don't feel anything actually coming through. She's been waking every thirty minutes or so in the early morning, which means I can't leave the bed to get my shower, do devotions, or complete any chores. I am fearful of her crawling off the edge of the bed, looking for Mommy. Transferring her to the crib that time of the morning just wakes her up.

Another glitch is that Daddy either studies late into the night, or works late into the night. Having Anna wake him up frequently after he's just gotten into a deep sleep isn't kind.

I'm very disappointed with these glitches. Now that I've tasted the peace and order that flow from actually completing necessary tasks, uninterrupted, I feel off balance and cranky. I miss that smooth-sailing start.

Anna and I still get up before the older kids by an hour, and that helps some. I can start laundry, feed Anna cereal, straighten up the living room and playroom, or look at a lesson plan or two. But I can't get my shower until Daniel comes out at 7 and can keep Anna company. Moreover, all the children are up by the time my shower is complete, and they all want a piece of me--making it frustrating to try to get dressed to shoes, put on lipstick and mascara, blowdry my bangs, and put scrunching product on my wet permed hair--to be combed out later. I do all this hygiene business while trying to keep the troops quiet so Daddy can stay asleep. Believe me, this scene is anything but relaxing.

There is peace in knowing that I'm getting healthier sleep, that I've kicked my computer-screen addiction, and that I'm getting some special time with Anna, who is pretty independent (as babies go). She loves to walk around and play with her toys in the living room, which gets blocked off to become her own special, large playroom--devoid of choking hazards. She can see me in the dining room doing laundry, so she is content while I work for a bit. I recite nursery rhymes to her while I start the laundry and fix her cereal.

I love nursing babies--including night nursing--and I hate cry-it-out techniques. So for now, I'll settle for some continued, somewhat-controlled chaos. Having a cuddly baby in my bed gives me a unique peace and joy--an irreplaceable gift.

By this time next year, she should be sleeping through the night. And 4 a.m. hot chocolate--enjoyed, not gulped--will be mine.

ADHD/ADD Medications

2009-09-28T16:08:00.000-04:00

If you're dealing with ADD/ADHD, you may want to visit this sight before, or during, your quest for medicinal therapy. The information is very complete and helpful.

change me

2009-09-28T10:42:00.016-04:00

We have a peaceful marriage, as marriages go. When peace does fly out the window, often ADHD is the culprit. Or so it seems.

We took time off of Daniel's medication for awhile, then we tried another type, called Focalin Extended Release. In the lowest available dose, 5 mg, it worked roughly 7 hours per day for a couple of months. Seven hours seems to be the maximum relief available, which gets a child through school, thankfully. Meds rarely make an ADHD child's or adult's behavior and emotions reach a completely normal range. But they can significantly alter outcomes during the most productive part of the day, which is why they're usually worth the effort.

Generalized Anxiety Disorder often accompanies ADD/ADHD, as well as other co-morbid disorders, such as OCD, Oppositional Defiant disorder, Tourette's Syndrome (tics), Conduct Disorder, or a mood disorder (often depression). In fact, sixty-five percent of sufferers have one or more co-morbid disorders, making it difficult to find a medication for the ADHD that doesn't aggravate a co-morbid disorder. Resorting to two medications is not uncommon, although obviously we'd never want to go there. We never wanted to resort to any medication, period.

If you're reading this and feeling judgmental about the use of meds, stop. Unless you've tried to rear an ADD/ADHD child, you have no right to form any judgement.

Anyhow, I think we're at a point in which the Focalin ER is aggravating the anxiety, making symptoms of anxiety as troublesome as the ADHD. Making a long story short, these issues are robbing us of marital peace right now, or so it seems.

Twice I have typed "or so it seems". Why, you ask, would I add that? The reason is that whenever I feel like it would be best if my beloved packed up and disappeared, it is never the ADHD, or money-management woes, or lack of communication, or any other popular hot-button marriage issue. Instead, it is my heart. My heart.

Most of all, right now, I'm thankful. I've been exposed to enough good teaching, backed up by enough Scripture, to know that when the Enemy tries to tell me I've married the wrong person, I know immediately that it's a false, evil conclusion.

Once we're married, discontent with our significant-other is never a matter of the wrong person. It's a matter of the heart. Our heart.

We have only to say, "God, change me."

As a post script, I want to say that if you're in a physically-abusive marriage, the best thing to do is leave. Don't date or marry or stray during the separation period. Just let the Lord restore the abusing spouse. Yes, it will take time. After the Lord has had his way with the abuser, it will be a glorious marriage, and all the glory will go to the Father.

And yet still, the leaving spouse needs to ask the Lord for a heart change; it will take a major heart change to allow the abused person to forgive and forget. Without this forgiveness, reconciliation would be short-lived, at best.

falling asleep are you?

2009-09-26T09:43:00.001-04:00

Timothy, my kindergärtner, is bright enough that we are using Daniel's second-grade curriculum to teach him alongside his second-grade brother. It makes things much easier, and Timothy loves the math, English, spelling, and reading curriculum. But second-grade science? Not so much.

Overheard at the teaching table this morning, while Daddy taught about fossils:

Timothy: "You're making me fall asleep!"

Plan B for Timothy's science coming soon.

Why Saturday school? Daddy works all night long on Wednesday night, arriving home at 6:30 a.m. on Thursday morning. I have to keep the kids quiet while he sleeps, so we decided to take Thursdays off. When he wakes up between 12:00 p.m. to 1:00 p.m., I then go out and run our errands.

lifestyle choices & grief

2009-09-25T10:33:00.001-04:00

We received the devastating news that the credentialed teacher who reviewed Daniel's school portfolio died this last weekend. She was 61 years old, and battled inoperable stomach cancer for two months before her death. Hospitalized for the past two weeks, she requested to go home and live out her days with her husband and her 21 year-old son. Not expecting death so soon, she was even planning her art class lessons, to be taught on Monday.

When we met with her on August 10, she did seem depressed and defeated. She must have gotten the death-sentence diagnosis a week or so before our meeting. I noticed her depression, but didn't mention it, thinking that maybe she was just tired. We had attended two of her art events earlier in the year, so I remembered her to be a very positive and loving person, as my entire homeschooling group would attest to.

I feel for her husband and young son! The whole thing made me realize that as parents, we owe it to our children to take good care of ourselves. Our good health honors God, and works out to be a gift to our children. Healthy parents make good parents, capable and loving grandparents, and easy-to-care-for aging parents.

Let's do our exercise, our veggie, fruit, lean meat and whole-grain eating, our water drinking, and our healthy sleeping, for the glory of God and for our precious children. Some diseases--cancer included--do stay at bay longer when we make good lifestyle choices. Yes, God is ultimately in control, but that doesn't mean we don't have any control over our health.

We have only to look into the grieving eyes of young children left behind to convince us that our lifestyle choices matter.

humbled by the error of my ways

2009-09-24T13:09:00.000-04:00

Overheard in my dining room this morning:

Timothy (coming in from outdoor play, and looking carefully around the dining room): "Who's coming over?"

Momma: "No one. Why?"

Timothy (taking off his shoes): "Then why is the house so clean?"

I am humbled by this, knowing that for four years, my house has been disheveled--except when guests were expected. Now that my new sleep schedule has commenced, I am able to keep up nicely. I'm ashamed to admit that in the past I used my children as an excuse. Yes, they keep me busy, but I still could have been a decent homemaker, loving them abundantly and consistently all the while.

I'm sorry Lord. From now on, my best only.

Other tidbit: My Anna Grace (9 months) is walking everywhere! Camera seems broken. Hoping new batteries will do the trick, but I doubt it. The batteries are fairly new.

turning over a new leaf

2009-09-23T09:33:00.002-04:00

I've been a full-time stay-at-home mom for four years now. Through those years, I've struggled. But no more. No more, my friends. For I've learned the secret to success at this gig. Get up three hours before your family awakens.

Yes. I did it. Twice. The difference is immeasurable. I've slept 9:00 p.m. to 4:00 a.m.--leaving everything but the dinner dishes for the morning. Being able to accomplish things, uninterrupted, has made me a new woman. No more irritation spewing from my good-intentioned mommy self. Although on the first day the baby woke twice during my early-morning tryst, it still worked. I nursed her back to sleep and left her in the bed with Daddy.

The first day of school was Monday and despite my glorious schedule, everything went horribly--partly because Daniel has been mildly sick and in a horrendous mood. But we've had smooth sailing since my new sleeping schedule commenced. Of course I have little to no computer time, but I'll adjust. And no, I no longer know what's going on in the world, but I'll put news gathering into the schedule somewhere. If Glenn Beck plans a revolution, I need to know how to participate. Mostly because I recently read about a homeschooled girl who was forced to attend public school in the aftermath of a messy divorce. Her father thought she needed it (inter-faith parents who disagreed), and the New Hampshire court decided that her strict Christian faith needed to be balanced by learning about other views. She was doing well academically and socially as a homeschooler, and she liked being homeschooled. If such a thing can be forced in America, I'm ready for a revolution. We need it. What happened to the Constitution?

The case is expected to go to higher courts, and you can bet I'll be watching it closely. God gave US these children. We will raise them. No way am I releasing them to a stranger bus driver at 8:30 in the morning, not to see them again until 4:00 p.m. That is insane. They may as well be sent off to a boarding school.

Miss I-Hate-Contests

2009-09-19T20:39:00.000-04:00

Do you like contests? I never have. I suppose my dislike is more laziness than anything else. Fill out an extra form? No thanks. I'm too busy. When a blogger posts something about a contest, I pass that post right by. That's just me.

At the library last week we placed our sixty items on the counter. The librarian--in love with us because we boost their circulation numbers--told me about their drawing for back-to-school supplies. All we had to do was put our name and phone number on one little piece of paper for every five items checked out. The boys were with me and there was no way out of it. Miss No Fun--aka Momma--dutifully prepared the little papers so the boys could fold them and place them in the contest jar. Understanding probability well enough to surmise that we just might win, they couldn't get it out of their minds, at least for a few days. Then they forgot.

Fast forward one week. I get a call from the nice librarian. Seems they drew out our name.

Guess who jumped the highest? Miss I-Hate-Contests did! See, I've never won anything before. How 'bout that? Cool, huh?

grace for tired mommas

2009-09-18T15:17:00.009-04:00

I never intended this blog to be about my lack of sleep. But since my Ever-So-Sweet Anna hasn't mastered the art yet, I guess it's still the topic of the day.

The girl is like an alarm clock. Yes indeedy. She knows when the clock will read 10:30 p.m., 12:35 a.m., 2:35 a.m., 4:35 a.m., and finally, 6:35 a.m.--which lately has been the point at which breastmilk no longer does the trick. She's up for the day...or at least for a couple of hours.

Did I mention I go to bed between 12:30 a.m. and 2:00 a.m.?

Let's just say Momma hasn't been exactly......hmm, well....spewing words of adoring praise toward her charges lately. I'm sounding more like a drippy faucet, oft times spewing nagging corrections. I'm ashamed to admit it.

So when the following conversation occurred a few days ago, I was blown away...by the grace of God.

The Scene--driving to AWANA and talking about our recent hike:

Momma: "Do you remember the last time we were on that trail? Momma was hugely pregnant and hot, carrying Anna Grace in the womb still. Now today I carried her in my arms! What a blessing that is!"

Daniel: "Daddy doesn't think babies are a blessing. That's for sure!" (laughing) "Do you think we'll have more?"

Momma: (Wondering how one tells a seven-year-old about vasectomies....a procedure I still don't agree had to happen.) "Well, I don't know for sure, but I think God might consider me to be too old. And Daddy too."

Daniel: "But if we did have more, wouldn't you be happy? Aren't babies always a blessing?" (I've said that many times...he's regurgitating.)

Momma: "Oh, yes. I would be happy. And Daddy loves his children very much, Daniel. He just has a hard time with the crying and the waking. You feel loved by Daddy, don't you?"

Daniel: (laughing) "Well.....most of the time."

Momma: Insanely curious as to what he would say, I tried this: "Do you feel loved by me?"

Daniel: (laughing) "Oh, yeah! Every single minute and second I do!"

Okay, you Mommas. Remember this. We aren't perfect. God still has chiseling to do on us. But our deeply-felt love for our children? He makes sure that comes through. Loudly. Grace abounds for tired, stressed-out Mommas.

Hallelujah.

And I know. Don't say it. I need to go to bed earlier.

blessings

2009-09-17T01:00:00.004-04:00

Time to count some blessings:

1. Another awesome homeschooling playdate today. Weather was again perfect for hiking--at a new park this time. The children all waded in a lovely stream, looked for wildlife and thoroughly enjoyed each other's fellowship. A new child, Elizabeth, age 7 (and her dad) joined us. Elizabeth is another tomboy--a child after my Daniel's heart, much like Faith, the four-year-old who joins us every time. Only Elizabeth is Daniel's same age and she's more verbal and outgoing. Possibly the perfect friend for him. She collects as many creatures as Daniel and loves nature with the same intensity.

Her dad owns a toy shop; please say a quick prayer for him. Business is poor right now, due to the economy. He is struggling to stay open and had to recently apply for a credit card to get his car transmission fixed. Ouch. We can so relate to his struggles right now. God brought our two families together right now for a purpose, perhaps? Absolutely, I think. We can lend a listening ear, help take Elizabeth to activities, and have her over for playdates. It's a divorce situation, and dad is trying to homeschool her while continuing to run the business. She doesn't get as much social interaction as dad would like to provide.

2. I've mentioned that my husband probably has ADHD or ADD? He loses things frequently and needs help getting out the door with glasses, keys and wallet in hand. His inattentiveness means that he leaves knives within the kids' reach, forgets to lock the door at night, leaves the kids outside too long without supervision, leaves our two-year-old on the potty and forgets her....etc. He helps a lot, but I always have to be paying attention. I have to do a lot of checking. ADHD/ADD sufferers (kids AND adults) are commonly deemed lazy and irresponsible, by unknowing outsiders. Yes, an adult should know to put wallet/keys/glasses in the same place every time. It shouldn't be an issue before every outing, but it is. It's easy for me to get extremely irritated at all the ways this brain disorder makes my husband seem childlike. But God doesn't allow that. Don's dad couldn't take it (didn't understand it) and the two of them had a horrible relationship. God doesn't want that unhealthy pattern repeated between Don and me. So he gave me a son who struggles in related areas (less inattentive but more impulsive). Thus, I have an understanding of my husband's struggles. Most of the time I see these two not as the rest of the world sees them, but as God sees them. I can look for the glasses or keys for the millionth time and hand them over with a smile, knowing that my husband is doing his best. I look at him and I don't see lazy or irresponsible. I see unique, godly qualities. It's a privilege to extend grace toward my husband. It's a blessing that he extends it to me, everyday. My marriage is a blessing--such a rock in these troubled times.

3. I helped in AWANA at church the last two weeks. Timothy is in my class this year (Sparks K-2), along with Daniel. It's the first time I've seen Timothy in a classroom situation. He's a very good boy! I wanted to scoop him up tonight and squeeze the stuffing out of him--I was so proud! Daniel has his wiggle, tapping, and voice-volume issues, and needs to remember not to sit next to someone he'll talk to, but he is mostly good as well. They enjoy the lessons and activities, which are very well thought out.

Tonight the main teacher held up a piece of paper with a magnet behind it and a paper clip in front of it. The paper clip was being moved around by the magnet. The lesson was that we can't see God--like the paper clip can't see the magnet--but we can still be (must be) subject to his lead. Such visual demonstrations are valuable for kids like Timothy, who need to see, see, see to comprehend. AWANA is a blessing!

4. Another blessing that's come out of this bad economy has to do with my increased ability to extend grace toward strangers. Before, I was quicker to judge things I just didn't understand. The school I taught in for nine years comes to mind a lot now. It was a low-income area, with 90% of the student body receiving free lunch/breakfast. The teachers--me included--had a tendency to look down on the parents for failing to do any homework with their students, come to conferences, remember needed items, get rid of lice quickly, etc. We were easily irritated by what seemed to be blatant irresponsibility. Many of them didn't even work, or they were among the working poor (working part-time or full-time for a low wage).

Now that we are doing creative math with our checking account--juggling two part-time job paydays with partial unemployment disbursements--to get the mortgage and utilities paid and keep the meals coming, my eyes have been opened to how hard daily life is for the economically disadvantaged. Routine things take a lot longer to accomplish. You can't mail a bill because you don't have money for stamps...or you need groceries but you can only get a few things, until payday. You live on a day-to-day basis, spending more time shopping, bill paying, checkbook watching, etc. Nothing is simple or routine. There is a steady stream of financial issues, partially because you can't afford to do things well, or ahead of time, like fix that car properly, deal with that roof issue, buy clothes that last, buy resume paper, have enough gas to get to the interview, etc. I could go on and on.

We have God to lift us up and give us hope, but those families I worked with as a teacher didn't. Reading to their kids once a day was the last thing on their minds. They were just trying to survive. They couldn't get rid of lice quickly because buying the lice-removal equipment and having the quarters for all the extra loads of laundry was just too much of a burden. (No, my kids don't have lice...just an example.)

I'm deeply, deeply ashamed for every minute I spent judging them. No, I was never rude or even short with them; I behaved professionally. But my heart wasn't soft. There was no there-but-for-the-grace-of-God-go-I sentiments. They should be trying harder, I thought. We all thought it, at that school. Shame on us! We had no idea! They were in a state of constant stress, with no hope of improvement. It wasn't temporary hardship due to a bad economy--it was a way of life. Some of them had never known anything different.

Passing judgement is folly. Always.

terrible, horrible, no-good, very-bad sleeping

2009-09-15T09:39:00.001-04:00

Good morning! I have only checked my e-mail three times these last few days. Victory!

The master schedule I've been writing--designed to put us on the road to sanity and learning--is nearly done. My Anna Grace, 9 months-old, sweet as honey, and a blessing beyond words, is a terrible, horrible, no-good, VERY-BAD SLEEPER--to borrow some words from Alexander. My only time to work on the schedule is after the children are in bed at night. Her Royal Sweetness wakes up so frequently--night and day--that the planning and revising is a very. slow. process.

Just now, I put her down for what should have been a 90-minute nap. As I hear her cries and look at the clock, I see it was only a 35-minute nap. While it's very hard not to get emotionally pent up about this (given that I'm sleep deprived), I will simply get her up and let it go.

Because I have no choice. God, allow Her Royal Sweetness to sleep! Please! Pretty please, even.

No sarcasm in the "Royal Sweetness" part....she really does have the best temperament ever. Remind me when she is three that I once said this, will you?

obsessions

2009-09-13T12:46:00.006-04:00

The Holy Spirit really got to me yesterday, and then again this morning. I'm afraid it's related to helping Timothy self regulate his computer and TV screen time. I can't teach him with any integrity if I don't first start regulating my own problem with the screen.

TV isn't a problem for me; I only watch Fox News as I do my late-night kitchen cleaning. That's it. And it isn't blogging or reading blogs that trips me up.

IT'S E-MAIL! I check my e-mail more times than I can count. It has become a nervous habit, probably mostly associated with checking for comments after blog posts. It's so nice when people comment, ya know?

However, this checking obsession takes my focus off of very important pursuits; namely, properly loving my family--with the "love" being a verb.

As with any temptation, God always provides a way out. I have disabled any new commenting on this blog. If you need to contact me, my e-mail address is listed in the "about me" section. Setting the blog up this way makes it far less likely that I'll check my e-mail multiple times. Composing an e-mail is a lot more work than adding a comment to a post, so I know people probably won't bother, unless it's important.

I feel so silly having to do this, but I don't think the Holy Spirit is giving me an option. Thanks for all the help you've sent through comments...and the love. Both have meant a lot to me!

So, I hope we're still friends. Okay? I like to comment on your blogs, so I'll still do that. And Liz, please start that blog!

a telling breakfast

2009-09-12T13:20:00.006-04:00

At the breakfast table:

Momma: "Timothy, since you're almost six now, I think you need to try milk with your cereal, as well as other new foods. It is easier and faster to eat cereal with milk, and it tastes better. We're starting school on Monday and breakfast needs to go faster."

Timothy (in aggravated, whiny voice): "But I don't like milk!" (He only drinks the Nestle Quick kind of chocolate milk.)

Momma: "I know you get scared about trying new foods. When you're scared, ask Jesus for help with bravery. And I will start praying more about your diet. You are missing too many fruits and vegetables. They help you live with less pain and less suffering."

Timothy: (Whining) "But I don't like Jesus anymore. And I don't like doing that Bible study anymore. I stopped listening. Jesus makes me feel like I always have to work. I want to play all day!" (No, I didn't make this stuff up. This kid is wrestling with God. What a telling statement his last one is (in bold). We all want our own way, don't we?)

Momma: "I see a lot of evidence that you love Jesus. And I see evidence every day that Jesus is working in your heart. What about when you dance with Mommy, to the Jesus songs on the radio? That makes you so very happy!"

Timothy: "But I can't see Jesus."

Momma: "Faith is believing in things we cannot see. God puts faith in our hearts. You don't have to try to believe. God will do the work."

Timothy: "But I don't believe in ANYTHING I can't see!" (Man, he's precocious, I'm saying to myself.)

Momma: "It's true that we don't see Jesus. But we see evidence that he is here. When Daniel aggravates you and makes you so very mad, you are patient with him and you always forgive him quickly. That is God--the Holy Spirit--working in your heart. On our own, we don't forgive people easily; sometimes we don't forgive and forget at all."

(He was still listening intently, so I kept going.) "And when a caterpillar turns into a beautiful butterfly, you can see Jesus through that. Something as wonderful as that doesn't happen by accident. The world is too beautiful and too perfect to be an accident."

"The comfort Jesus provides us is another bit of evidence that he exists. We can only comfort ourselves in ways that don't last--like with a new toy, a piece of chocolate cake, a cold drink, or a blanket. Jesus comforts us in our hearts and minds, and it lasts--if we don't get distracted from him. And he provides for our needs."

An aside: If you're wondering why some people starve to death, I think the answer is that God put enough food on the earth--he continues to do so--but we fail to share it. We don't do our part. It's a mystery why God allows us to continue to turn our backs on the hungry of the world. Governmental corruption in starving countries certainly contributes--the logistics are complicated. We can't put a military presence in every corrupt country. But we can send more food via missionaries, via planes, etc. More can be done, even though some of the food will end up in corrupt hands. Just feeding hungry people makes it more likely that they'll rise up against the corruption--on their own. We can even contribute more to the starving in our own country--via food banks, soup kitchens, etc. I submit to you that we are too comfortable. Sometimes, being comfortable is wrong, but only insofar as it blinds us to another's hunger--whether that hunger be physical or spiritual.

Just being somewhat uncomfortable for the past several months has opened my eyes greatly. I welcome more discomfort. I don't want blindness. I suspect God is growing me into a missionary.

Timothy: "But I want to see him."

My preaching ended there. Timothy is a mathematician. A scientist. He might always struggle with belief. There's no doubt in my mind that he loves Jesus; the last six months have brought too much evidence. Just the fact that he is uncomfortable--from the workings of the holy spirit, no doubt--is strong evidence. Spiritual growth is never comfortable.

The most important task now is to make sure the Gospel of grace is getting through.

scavenger hunts

2009-09-11T15:50:00.005-04:00

Sometimes kids need to be bored so that imaginations come alive. With the TV as an option, they too easily skip the search for an activity and just turn on the tube. But if we limit the viewing to one or two valuable shows or videos--that supplement their curriculum--they will still have a lot of hours to fill. Imaginations then have to be engaged.

I don't mean to preach. It's mostly to myself if I am preaching. Often if I'm behind on chores, I fail to keep a close eye on their viewing minutes. Daniel and Emily Rose are auditory learners who tend to self-regulate their viewing. Timothy, however, is a strong visual learner who needs daily monitoring of TV/computer time. If we don't train him to self-regulate now, he'll suffer later when he has to manage his own time.

Bringing up what the Bible says about laziness seems to penetrate their hearts more than anything else. In fact, I need to post relevant Scriptures in the playroom.

Sometimes they need a little help inventing a pastime. Scavenger hunts or homemade Playdoh are great jump starters. I started a scavenger hunt this morning involving simple tally marks. Since then the boys have done five more of their own, that they've given to each other. Scavenger hunts are neat because all the senses are utilized, increasing a child's appreciation of what God has provided for our entertainment.

Some ideas we've used:

-3 dandelions gone to seed
-2 yellow dandelions
-2 flying vultures
-3 worms
-1 caterpillar
-1 squirrel
-3 pieces of bark
-4 twigs
-1 soft nature find
-1 rough nature find
-1 heavy nature find
-1 wet nature find
- four bird feeders
- 2 chirping birds
- 2 flying sparrows
-1 crunchy leaf
-1 fall-colored leaf
-4 ants
-1 daddy long leg
-1 bird nest
-2 spiders

looking up

2009-09-11T10:45:00.005-04:00

Mommy and Daddy were lost in very earthly, worried thoughts this morning. God used our children to snap us out of it.

Emily picked up a small, old Bible off the end table. She held it up and asked, "Old?" "Yes", I replied, thinking that Daddy must have told her which Bibles she could handle.

Emily opened it up, turned to a random page, and pointed at some words, saying, "God loves me."

Daddy talked about going out for a prayer walk. Then he looked at the clock and realized that he'd probably better get his shower. He needed to leave for school at 12 noon today. Talking to himself, he said, "I don't know what I should do. I guess prayer is more important."

Daniel, hearing this, and wanting to go with Daddy on the prayer walk, said, "Yes, there's nothing more important than prayer. Not in the whole world. Ever."

So there you have it. A good kick in the pants via our 2 and 7 year-olds. God loves us. And there's nothing more important than prayer. Any questions?

No, Lord. I think that just about covers it. Thank you.

The day is looking up.

Hope - Julie Lessman

2009-09-10T16:18:00.001-04:00

Our fridge, purchased at a used applicance place for $200 four years ago, quit working yesterday. My father came to the rescue, purchasing us a new, bottom of the line 20.9 cubic-feet fridge made by Whirlpool. The manufacturer estimates it will last two to ten years. It happens to be the exact same model we bought used, which never made it to ten years for us, or for the original owners--not even combined. I think I'd better start praying over this fridge.

I'm discouraged about my dad having to help us out. Consequently, I don't have anything good to say today. But I found the post pasted below on The Seekers blog. I thought it might perk you up nicely today. It's about hope. Stay with it--it's a good story no matter where you're at in your life.

_______________________________________________

Author - Julie Lessman

“Are you okay?” Someone shook me hard. I lay there, unable to speak, eyes welded closed.

“Are you okay” the voice came again, louder this time, more insistent. No answer. I felt the press of fingers to my pulse followed by a quick sweep of my mouth, clearing all obstructions. With a pinch of my nose, someone began to breathe life into me while a gentle hand compressed against my chest, finger on my heart …

Okay, just for the record—I did not choke on a piece of chicken at an American Christian Fiction Writers (ACFW) Conference or ever have to be resuscitated in any way. Uh … that is … at least not physically. But emotionally and spiritually? Yep, I was a goner. Cried enough tears that I thought the housekeeping staff would think I was heisting their Kleenex. But something amazing happened to me at the very first ACFW conference I ever attended—I received CPR in a very unlikely manner, and I gotta tell ya, folks—it saved my life. So I thought since we are less than a week out from this year’s ACFW conference in Denver, it might behoove me to share about this life-saving experience I received when the Holy Spirit administered a heavy dose of truly miraculous CPR—Cry, Pray, Repent.

Oh, how I wish, wish WISH someone had told me what I’m about to tell you before I went to my very first writers conference in Houston, Texas in 2003. It was the American Christian Fiction Writers Conference, only back then, it was ACRW, American Christian Romance Writers. I went by myself without knowing a soul, which is a hard thing to do, as so many of you are aware. Up until that point, I had done everything I could to put me on the path to publication—took fiction-writing courses at the community college, attended small writing seminars and local RWA chapter meetings, queried publishers until I was blue in the face, and entered contests until I was in hock over binder clips.

I knew in my gut that the time had come for me to venture far from home and interface with other writers of my ilk. I mean how difficult could this be? Although by nature I am a recluse of sorts, I have the misfortune of having an outgoing personality, so the word “shy” just isn’t part of my vocabulary. So I smiled and mixed and mingled until my teeth ached and made a lot of acquaintances, but no real “friend” that I felt I could connect with. Everything felt surface to me, and it seemed like everybody I spoke to was either published, had an agent, a contract in the works or fulls being considered.

That night I cried on the phone to my husband, and I’m talking major sobbing! I told him I felt lonely and jealous and like publication would never happen for me. He comforted me and prayed with me and told me everything would all right.

But it wasn’t. The next day I would attend a seminar, then go up to my room and cry, clean my face and go back down to smile some more. That went on all day as the loneliness and jealousy seemed to grow, and that night my poor husband got another earful of long-distance weeping. God love him, he prayed for me and encouraged me and told me to put my hope in God. Yeah, right, I thought to myself at the time, and how is that going to change these waterworks? That night I cried myself to sleep, rivers of tears seeping into my pillow.

What happened next is nothing short of supernatural. The next morning, even before my eyelids peeled open, my brain was pelted with hope scriptures in rapid-fire succession:

Now may the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that you will abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. - Romans 15:12-14

And hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out within our hearts through the Holy Spirit who was given to us. - Romans 5:4-6

No one whose hope is in you will ever be put to shame. - Psalm 25:2-4

Find rest, O my soul, in God alone; my hope comes from him. - Psalm 62:4-6

But I will hope continually, and will yet praise thee more and more. - Psalm 71:13-15

Now, first of all, I wasn’t aware that I even knew that many hope scriptures. In fact, they shocked me so much, that my eyes popped open and I lunged for the Gideon Bible inside the nightstand drawer. I flipped it open to the first few pages where they list scriptures by subject and scanned the list for “Hope.” It wasn’t there, so I settled on the scripture for “Fear.” There were only two, mind you, and I quickly paged to the first one: Hebrews 13:5.

Let your conversation be without covetousness; and be content with such things as ye have: for he hath said, I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.

Come again? What does fear or lack of hope have to do with covetousness and ingratitude? Give me a break, the Gideons have TONS of scriptures to choose from and they choose this???? I blinked several times … and then the Holy Spirit nailed my butt to the wall.

I had spent the last two days of this expensive conference doing NOTHING but coveting other writers’ success and complaining that it would never happen for me. My husband had forked over $800 bucks (airfare, hotel room, conference fee) so I could fly to Houston and instead of being grateful, I was utterly lonely and jealous. Talk about a one-two punch! I fell to my knees and sobbed again, only this time my tears were tears of repentance. I told God I was sorry for being such a brat, and I prayed for every woman that I had been jealous of, that God would bless the socks off of them. I asked Him to change my attitude and give me hope and help me not to be lonely the rest of the conference.

For the umpteenth time that weekend, I cleaned up my face, put on my name badge and squared my shoulders to go downstairs. The elevator opened, and I flashed a smile to the couple in the back and turned to face the door. The woman gently tapped me on the shoulder and said, “You’re from St. Louis? I live in Illinois, just twenty minutes across the river.”

I turned around and will NEVER forget the look of kindness and warmth in that woman’s eyes—like an angel sent from God. She was an ACFW author named Diana Brandmeyer (who, by the way, has a GREAT new book coming out with Barbour next January entitled Hearts on the Road, so check it out on her website at http://brandmeyer.homestead.com/). Anyway, she invited me to sit with her and her husband for breakfast. Trust me, conference food had never tasted so good!

Later that day, there was a contest for book giveaways. You simply had to write about someone who had positively affected you at the conference so far, and if the ACFW Master of Ceremonies (Brandilyn, of course!) picked your comments out of the hat, the person you wrote about won a free book. My eyes smarted with tears as I dashed a quick note about the kind woman in the elevator “whose eyes radiated love and warmth—Diana Brandmeyer.”

If you can believe it, out of over 350 women and like 2 men (grin), Brandilyn picked a handful of notes to read, and one of them was the note I had written about Diana, which referred to her “eyes full of love and warmth.” My heart jumped with excitement … until Brandilyn read my name instead of Diana’s. My heart froze when I realized I must have written my name down by mistake, thus winning a book for myself instead of Diana. Brandilyn called me up, and I was too embarrassed to tell her the truth, so I intended to return the book after the function was over. Imagine my shock when a few moments later, Brandilyn read another note about a woman “whose eyes radiated love and warmth,” only this one was the note I had written about Diana! Yes, you guessed it—two women who broke the yoke of loneliness off of each other in an elevator wrote almost exactly the same thing about the other. Go ahead, tell me that’s not a God thing!

That conference turned out to be a pivotal time in my career, not only because of the amazing friendship/critique partnership that Diana and I still share today, or even the very encouraging paid critique I received from author Tracey Bateman later on that day, but because of the invaluable lessons that the Holy Spirit taught me from the pages of a hotel-room Gideon Bible.

Yes, contests, writing classes and writers’ conferences are all important tools in traveling the road to publication. But the most important tools needed are spiritual—to keep your heart clean of jealousy by praying for those who incite it, to praise and thank God wherever you are in your journey instead of complaining, and to renew your mind with hopes scriptures instead of despair. Because the bottom line is, “hope never fails” … and neither does He.

So, I would love to hear your own conference CPR stories—I know you all have them (uh, especially Mary Connealy and Melanie Dickerson!), and there are a lot of first-time conference attendees that could use the encouragement. And for everyone that leaves a comment, I’ll toss your name in the hat for a chance to win a signed copy of your choice of one of the three books in The Daughters of Boston series. Good luck … and take a deep breath!

a life story

2009-09-08T17:30:00.007-04:00

I'm still working on this life story piece, but here is an updated version. A few more details were given to me by my sister-in-law, during her recent visit.

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Don's mom was outside chatting with her neighbors and snapping beans one summer night, many years ago. The neighbor's teenager had just obtained a used motorcycle. Half jokingly, he offered her a ride. Don's mother, a fun-loving, relaxed woman, accepted the invitation. Putting her beans on the stove first, she joined him for a quick ride down their rural Delaware road.

Several hours later, Don, age 16, and his sister, Lorrie, age 13, went to the morgue.....to identify their mother's body--her head having been crushed by a semi-truck.

I can't imagine all the ways my husband had to grew up, on that fateful summer night.

There are so many questions I have about my husband's childhood. What was he like as a boy? Did he catch insects for hours, in the woods behind their home? Did he come running up to his mother, salamander in hand, with the same passion I see in my own son? I think yes. He was known to ice skate on frozen ponds in the woods, alone, after dark. Was he a daring lad?

Don's was a much different upbringing than mine. His parents were Christians. After high school, Janet, his mother, obtained a Bible College degree and worked as a missionary in the Appalachian mountains, until she became ill and couldn't return.

At the age of 29, Janet married Luther. Their first child, a daughter afflicted with Down Syndrome, died of pneumonia at 8 months old. Shortly thereafter they had Don, and three years later, they had his sister, Lorrie.

Luther's upbringing was markedly different from Janet's stable one. His mother, mentally-challenged, was reportedly raped; she gave birth to Luther nine months later. There was never a father in his home, although his uncle made appearances to help care for Luther and his sister.

Luther's sister was also mentally challenged. Although not Down Syndrome, the exact nature of the impairment isn't known. Similarly, nothing is known about Luther's mother's mental impairment.

Luther resided with his mother and sister until his teenage years. At that time he left home of his own accord and lived as a foster son to a farming family. He helped with the farm work and attended the local high school alongside the farmer's children.

Stern and reserved, yet stable, the farmer and his wife provided Luther with the only normalcy he had ever known. Luther has managed to outlive all the farmer's children. They did maintain contact with him for many decades, however. While not their equal, he was part of their family.

Luther's mother was hurt by his leaving home, and I don't believe there was much contact after his departure. Don and I learned from one of the farmer's children, with whom we've visited twice, (he died two years ago) that Luther's sister spent her adult years in a mental institution. It 's not known if she's still living.

As a married man Luther worked in a paper factory. His first love was car mechanics, but he switched jobs due to his wife's dislike of his dirty appearance. Usually in a bad mood due to severe allergy symptoms (paper allergy, ironically), he came home from work and went directly to the garage, where he tinkered with old engines and appliances.

Luther was always impatient and short-tempered with his son, who did not share his dad's talent or interest in working with his hands. Deemed lazy by his father, Don suffered frequent spankings.

Luther was a very controlling, stern husband, as well. Extremely frugal, he went on grocery shopping trips with Don's mother to prevent her from spending extra money. She couldn't even buy tea. There is currently a considerable sum of money in Luther's bank account, so his frugality paid off for him, at least in his golden years. Still, he would rather eat baked beans than waste his money on real dinners. I guess I have to highly recommend baked beans; at 86, Luther's only health problems are arthritis and gout.

Luther's marriage suffered for obvious reasons, although Don and Lorrie both note that their mother adhered to Biblical submission. Janet certainly had ideas of her own, as did her own mother and her three sisters. Janet's mother was known for her independence, in fact--much to Luther's distaste. He disliked visiting his wife's family, who resided within a couple hours of the Pennsylvania home Don enjoyed until his late elementary years. They then moved to rural Delaware, resulting in Janet's being isolated from her family.

There is evidence that Janet was traditionally minded in her own right. Lorrie remembers asking her mother once why Don wasn't made to clean his room; Lorrie was routinely asked to do so. Janet's answer? Lorrie needed to learn to clean; Don did not.

While Don's mother was very happy with her children, she was an unhappy wife. She had no freedom--not even a driver's license. According to Don's sister, Janet had been contemplating divorce in the months before her death. She was probably conflicted, however, since Luther had never committed adultery. The divorce wouldn't have been Biblical, and I daresay if Janet had planned a divorce, she probably also planned on never remarrying. Her unhappiness was not shared with Don; only Lorrie knew of their mother's discontent. Don's memories are of a happy and fun-loving woman.

After Janet died, their father was angry. Following the funeral, he could only shout, "Now who will do the cooking and the cleaning?!"

While personally devastated, Don and his sister were very happy for their mother. Home with Jesus, she could drink tea to her heart's content. She was free.

We have surmised that, due to his unfortunate upbringing, Don's dad suffered (and still does) from attachment disorder. He knew nothing about love, which explains his bizarre reaction to his wife's tragic death.

Don went away to a Bible College in Iowa two years after his mother's passing. Never again did he reside with his father. And Lorrie, his sister, became a pregnant teen two years after her mother's passing. Her father helped care for her baby while she finished high school. She then married the baby's father and left home, only to divorce twenty years later, after a very unhappy marriage. At 47 she is still single, but she is at peace. Her husband committed adultery multiple times during the marriage, so it's no wonder that Lorrie is content as a single woman. She never had more than the one child, who is now 30. Lorrie currently manages a small health club in PA.

Luther never remarried. Intermittently, he has made efforts toward a relationship with Don and Lorrie. However when there are visits, he is harsh and critical after the first day or so. Despite this, brother and sister have no ill feelings toward their father. You won't detect any anger now--only peace. They know to expect little from him, emotionally or otherwise.

Luther has resided in Florida for many years. Don took the boys to see him in early 2008, after Luther had a hip replacement and was recovering. Lorrie accompanied them and the visit went poorly, presumably because Luther didn't have undivided attention. We haven't heard from him in 18 months; he won't answer his phone. The neighbors on one side, with whom Don has intermittent phone contact, tell us that Luther is physically fine, but emotionally reclusive--not desiring any contact from us, or from other neighbors.

In Luther I see a very juvenile man who wants his own way, much like a small child. Without sufficient love, he failed to grow emotionally, and has remained stunted. I think he was jealous of his wife's love for her children, and also jealous of Don and Lorrie's close sibling relationship. He resented his wife for seeming to forget their first baby, after becoming pregnant with Don. Luther grieved over their baby daughter's death much longer than Janet, or so it seemed to him. He felt like an outsider in his own home, I presume. It seems to me that the love he desperately craved, very much eluded him.

During one of the two times I've seen Luther, I heard him tell Don, "I have learned to be content--no matter my circumstances." Only God could have facilitated that contentment in Luther's otherwise tragic life.

Luther is a man of faith, dedicated to God. He took his family to Baptist churches and raised his children in the faith. His born-again faith began in his late teens or early twenties. While the farmer and his wife were church-goers, they didn't have any saving faith to model for Luther; there was only the consistency of non-evangelical, Lutheran church attendance. How the Gospel penetrated Luther's heart is unknown. Of course it was divine, but the source of any earthly influence is unknown. There is much, in fact, that Don and Lorrie don't know about Luther's life.

One would think that Don would be poorly equipped for parenting, given the daily, unloving paternal example. And one would think he would be poorly equipped for marriage, for the same reason.

But the thing is, Don is a better husband and father than any man I know. The Lord wanted it to be so. The Lord poured into Don, what Luther couldn't. And Janet, Don's mother, must have been an amazing woman. Her love covered over a multitude of sins.

I wish so much to have known her. My heart is full of gratitude for her selfless mothering! And I wish so much that my children could have her in their midst, so that she could take them for walks in the woods--the same way she did frequently with Don and Lorrie, when they were little.

Luther is not likely to live much longer. My prayer is that Jesus would pour love into him, in Luther's last days, so that Luther would be compelled to pick up the phone and call Don. And say, for the first time, "I love you, Son. I'm proud of you."

Please join me in prayer for Luther.

As an aspiring writer, I am driven by a love for the written word, and by timeless depictions of the human condition. I don't know if I have any fiction in me, but if I ever start a novel, I will surely begin here. There is so much in this story.

free writing critiques

2009-09-07T11:42:00.006-04:00

Terry Tiffany (from the blog "Terry Tiffany Inspirational Writer") wrote the paragraphs below, and sent them to the "So You Want To Be Published" blog, for a free critique from a published writer.

I wasn't going to write any blog posts until Thursday, but this post on Tiffany's blog excited me! I wanted to share it. The caliber of writing shown below is what I aspire to, someday, when I'm done with diapers and pouring drinks and sweeping up Cheerios. It will lend purpose to my empty-nest years. All I can do now is write, write, write. And read more fiction to study the craft.

The critiquing author emphasizes that good writing will show the reader the scene, not tell. That, and "good beefy verbs", are something to which I'll aspire. And I must use fewer commas!

Who knew one could get a free writing education via blogs! Exciting!
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Lizzy Batron’s sandal-clad foot played with the accelerator like a teenager with a new license. Faster. She tightened her grip on the steering wheel and stomped the pedal. Lizzy catapulted past the scene of her three-year old crime as though Satan himself chased her.

Maybe he did.

The Chevy pick-up fishtailed through the curves, ramming her shoulder against the door. One hundred yards later, when she could breathe again, she wriggled her fingers, feeling hot blood course through them.

Still alive. As always.

Only then did her foot ease up on the gas.

Ten minutes later, she parked her truck alongside the grassy lane of Abington Cemetery. Her T-shirt caught on the rusty doorframe as she slid from the cab. Dang. She flinched when she caught sight of the jagged tear—an exact match to the one in her heart.

She kicked the door shut.

Ornate benches and faded Memorial Day flags directed her path until she came upon her husband’s familiar headstone. Lizzy studied his grassy mound, sprinkled with red peonies her mother-in-law had planted earlier that spring. Then she glanced back down the slight incline. “You always said you wanted the best view, Tom. Guess you got your wish.”

______________________________________________
A published writer made comments about Terri's writing. See below.

Lizzy Batron’s sandal-clad foot played with the accelerator like a teenager with a new license.(Very nice) Faster. She tightened her grip on the steering wheel and stomped the pedal. Lizzy catapulted past the scene of her three-year old crime as though Satan himself chased her. (great word pictures).

Maybe he did. (Nice use of a paragraph break. Gives good impact.)

The Chevy pick-up fishtailed through the curves, ramming her shoulder against the door. One hundred yards later, when she could breathe again, she wriggled her fingers, feeling hot blood course through them.

Still alive. As always.

Only then did her foot ease up on the gas.

Ten minutes later, she parked her truck alongside the grassy lane of Abington Cemetery. Her T-shirt caught on the rusty doorframe as she slid from the cab. Dang. She flinched when she caught sight of the jagged tear—an exact match to the one in her heart. (Stunning. Great paragraph. Good imagery.)

She kicked the door shut. (Great, shows her emotion.)

Ornate benches and faded Memorial Day flags directed her path until she came upon her husband’s familiar headstone.Really nice visual writing here. I can see it. Lizzy studied his grassy mound, sprinkled with red peonies her mother-in-law had (When you say "earlier that spring," you don't need the "had" since the reader now knows it happened in the past.) planted earlier that spring. Then she glanced back down the slight incline. “You always said you wanted the best view, Tom. Guess you got your wish.”

Published writer's additional comments:
This is well written with BEEFY BEAUTIFUL VERBS! Yes, I'm shouting!!! Hooray for great verbs!!!!

This is beautifully written. It's visual. Deep. It's showing, not telling. You can see the desperation of the protagonist, and a strong hint of conflict. Study this one, folks. I'm not one to dole out compliments.

editing

2009-09-06T12:11:00.001-04:00

I have such a problem composing smooth sentences. Too many commas! Editing after a piece is in a published form is so much easier for me. Errors and awkward sentences catch my eye quickly that way. Who knew that editing potentially takes longer than the actual composing?

Anyhow, instead of writing anything new in the next few days, I'm going to concentrate on editing the life story piece.

My sister-in-law, Lorrie, arrived from PA yesterday. I cleaned house for two days, setting aside the writing of my fall school schedule.

There's so much to do! I'll be back here Thursday.

Oh, and I'm hoping to fit in another hike as well. Early fall weather is here! Yippee! My favorite season...that is, until spring comes, then spring is my favorite season. I'm fickle that way.

a personal struggle

2009-09-03T14:31:00.000-04:00

I'm trying to find more ways to save money. No surprise there, I'm sure. As I've admitted before, this has never been my strong point. Not having been raised in a Christian home, my only teaching on this matter has come via the Bible and through sermons, these last twelve years. Yeah, I learn slowly. Twelve years should have been sufficient. By now, I should know about as much as a depression-era housewife.

There are challenges; I am a generous person, and that characteristic gets in the way of frugality. On the flip side of every strength, one will always find a weakness. I know the Lord well enough to surmise that we will be on the poor side until God can trust us with more resources. How embarrassing to admit it, but that is what I truly believe. Of course, there are other lessons we are learning--humility, compassion, appreciation, simple pleasures.

I am not suffering discontent due to our circumstances. Rather, it is kind of an invigorating challenge--even fun sometimes.

Lately, the writing has been on the wall regarding our inability to afford disposable diapers. However, Anna is so wiggly during changes, it's a challenge just to properly affix the velcro tapes. I would surely stick her, if I had to use diaper pins. So, I have taken to rinsing her in the sink, and then disinfecting it, rather than using commercial diaper wipes. That savings is helping. I will soon buy cloth diapers and pins for Emily, who stays still nicely for changes.

In another effort to make ends meet, I have put together two storage boxes of nice clothes to take to a consignment shop, in hopes of acquiring what we need for fall and winter in the way of clothing. Last time I was at this shop, I saw a woman hand some of her own items over, only to trade them for additional ones, rather than exchanging money.

I'm about to leave on my errand, and I'm covering it in prayer. Emily needs 3T sleepers right away, as our nights are getting cooler. Her sleepers, and several pairs of jeans and a winter coat for my rugged Daniel, are the minimum requirements we have. Luckily, the children's sweaters, found at thrift shops last year, still fit and look nice for church.

If you haven't tried the thrift store/consignment route, I highly recommend it!

Here goes!

best hike ever

2009-09-02T20:40:00.000-04:00

Oh! I'm giddy today. We went on another awesome homeschooling playdate, this time to a beautiful park with a lake trail. Three families hiked it together, and we all had such a wonderful time taking in the fellowship, and the delightful scenes of nature. How pleasant. How perfect. Lord, you're awesome.

Daniel caught his first salamander. His face all lit up, and his body doing a happy dance, he rushed over to me, exclaiming,"I caught a salamander! I've been waiting my whole life! Jesus blessed me so much! It's my luckiest day ever! I can't believe it!"

The salamander was the subject of several afternoon Internet searches. We now know to feed it cut up, live worms. Oh, gee. How lovely.

That yucky part aside, let me just say that I've never loved my Daniel more than I did at that moment. That boy loves life. His passion is contagious. Yes, his ADHD makes him hard to handle, but it also makes him rich. To possess a burning passion, to go after something with such unmatched determination....that is precious. He is a mere seven years old, and he already knows what he is about. His purpose is set--the study and enjoyment of nature. In a few weeks, fall leaves will stir up this same passion, on this same lake trail. I know my Daniel. We will check out leaf books from the library, peruse every park within an hour's drive, and my house will once again be taken over by fall leaves. That's my boy! Live, my Daniel. Live. And continue to thank God. Continue to worship him, through his creations.

There's more on the playdate, but time is short tonight.

The weather, by the way? Fully sunny, 74 degrees, no mosquitoes, no humidity, with a light, delightful breeze. It was the best hike ever.

Harvest Photos

2009-09-01T21:55:00.000-04:00

Here is my sweet Emily Rose, in her "buteful" dress--found at a thrift store.

Timothy is giving sister a congratulatory hug. She gave up her binky the day before this was taken.

We tried to capture the children's excitement about their successful gardening venture! This year, the Lord must have spoken to the bees about doing their part. LOL We had a better yield. I love that gardening--something really so simple--can put such delight into their little souls. It was a holiday-like feel, as we gathered the harvest together and took these photos.

As I look at these, I am filled to the brim with joy at having the privilege of parenting with my honey. He's not always patient. His face contorts in aggravation frequently, but his involvement is steadfast--his commitment unwavering. He puts his time and energy into these precious children, like no man I've ever met. Thank you, God, for all of them. And thank you for the blessing of a yard.

May you abundantly bless, compensating richly, the children who must be raised with no yard to call their own.

inspiration

2009-08-31T13:48:00.002-04:00

I just read the most inspiring post. Yes, blogging and blog reading is a time suck, with which I maintain a love/hate relationship. But when the needs of my four children--especially my teething baby--deplete me before the clock strikes 12 noon, it helps enormously to come into my bedroom to fetch something, and to steal a few minutes to read a Christian post. Especially when the Lord manages to post just the right blog, at just the right time. Sometimes the fit and timing are SO perfect, there's no question that the Lord is responsible.

Before I share the post I just read, let me elaborate on why I'm in an overwhelmed state. Now's the time to roll your eyes. Yes, I'll wait.

It stems from a few issues. I am still trying to read through the introductory pages of my second-grade teachers' editions. It is slow going, although I've progressed enough to know that I chose very good resources for Daniel (Bob Jones University Press).

In addition, I am constantly thinking about the schedule I'll write. It has to fit with Don's school and study needs, with the girls' naps, with meals, with extra-curricular activities, and with laundry and meal cleanup. Exercise has to be worked into it, as well as grocery runs, appointments, etc. In short, the task is an all-consuming one.

Complicating everything is Anna's teething. She must have a lower tolerance for pain than the others. She is sleeping about as well as a newborn, and her discomfort seems to be stretching out to nearly three months worth of upheaval. The crazy sleep schedule is causing my migraines to worsen, which makes it harder to keep up.

Furthermore, I decided upon learning that it would go down to 40 degrees last night, that I'd better have Don get the fall/winter storage boxes out of the shed so that I can get our clothes washed and sorted for giving away, or for hanging up in closets. The house is littered with piles of clothes, which is normal for us when the seasons change; we have inadequate closet space. This time I'm trying to be more thorough and give away more, so I can reduce closet clutter. We always wear far less than I hang up.

So considerable chaos reigns right now. It would help enormously if I would start getting up before the family to shower, unload the dishwasher, start a load of clothes, and put oatmeal on the stove. My exhaustion always prevents that from happening, in addition to the fact that setting an alarm in our bedroom, which we share with Anna, would wake her up and require Don to care for her while I shower. She is a Momma's girl to the core, so being alone with Daddy makes her cry, which causes the others to wake prematurely. Anna loves having Daddy around, so long as Momma is close by. Perhaps because he isn't her milking cow? I wonder.

When things are this disorganized, we Mommas need only to remember what our mission is. Most decidedly, it is not writing the perfect schedule, having perfectly stocked closets, or rising in the morning at a time we deem unselfish. All those things help, sure. But keeping our eyes fixed on Him, and on what He would have us do as mothers, is the main thing. He would not overwhelm us. He would not require more than we can give. He would not drive us into migraine territory. It is our stubbornness, in wanting our own way, that leads to these problems.

As this blog author writes, He must increase, and we must decrease. That is the answer. And I thank the Lord for having me read it at this moment. This God-inspired blog author brilliantly spills it all out, for us hungry Mommas to drink up.

Emily's mountain

2009-08-30T09:58:00.005-04:00

Emily Rose has been busy of late. She is climbing a steep, rugged mountain, of sorts. You see, since the age of 6 months old, she has fallen asleep with the help of her security blanket, AND her binky. Confined to her crib only, the pacifier was never a cause for worry. Middle-of-the-night wakings never resulted in us having to get up and find the binky, which would inevitably end up on the floor. I surmised that she used it on average a total of thirty minutes per day, between her nap and bedtime.

Lately, I noticed she was asking for it when she got hurt, and when we had to speak to her with a firm tone. Experts recommend that pacifiers only be used for sleeping, and that they be given up by three-years-old. I decided she needed to give it up now; for the first time the addiction was getting out of control.

A few hours before a recent nap, I mentioned that her binky was lost. Further, I informed her that because binkies were actually for babies, it was time for her to say goodbye to her binky. She was, after all, a big girl now. My sweet Emily Rose always agrees that, yes, she is a big girl. I ended with, "So is that okay with you, Rose? Can you say goodbye to your binky now?"

"No, Mommy. I need my binky." She then went on with her play. I reminded her again, about thirty-minutes later, that she was going to take her nap without her binky. She didn't respond, but just kept on playing.

Fast forward to naptime. I went through the naptime routine, then stuck around to aid in the transition a bit. She tossed and turned, crying over and over, "My binky, my binky!" Eventually, she even tossed a soft doll at me, in frustration.

But the whole affair lasted only forty minutes. We prayed together for help from Jesus, many times. I stayed for the first twenty, and she toughed out another twenty minutes, before falling asleep on her own. Everyone in the family did happy dances for her, after this hard-fought nap. Except Daddy. He is too cool for happy dances, you know.

I was thrilled, I tell you. My fear was that giving up the binky would mean no more naps. But God knows my needs right now.

Four consecutive times she has successfully fallen asleep without her binky. After two times, we made her a goodbye-binky cake. After the fourth time, we celebrated with ice cream cones. And each time, there were more happy dances, in which the boys and Anna were eager to participate. During these happy dances, Emily would jump up, with her hands in the air, and proclaim, "Imma BIG girl now!" This is a familiar little dance. My sweet girl does it after every successful potty trip, and after she dresses herself or puts on her shoes. It will surely be one of my most powerful memories, as I look back on my early years with this blessing of a daughter. I still have to pinch myself over the fact that I actually HAVE daughters.

I am very proud of my sweet Emily Rose. That steep, jagged mountain has been met with strength and grace. The difficulty of her task was never lost on me.

Bittersweet it is, for Momma. Her security blanket--Emily's, not mine :)--no longer holds the same place in her heart, in the absence of her binky. They worked together these many months to comfort her little soul; rubbing on the satin tag of her blanket somehow isn't the same now. And when I check on her, I no longer see that precious blanket tucked near her face. Oh, how that hurts!

Daniel's special bunny was not given up until last year, at age six. And here my Emily Rose is going to give up her blanket, I fear, at age 2.5. Timothy's security was always just the breast, which he enjoyed as a sleep aid before bed and nap, for 2.5 years. He used it as a sleep aid in the middle of the night for a full two years. I don't know quite how I survived that, but it is a very distant memory now. The cruelty my Momma heart must endure! I don't care for distant memories, thank you very much. As much as a clean, orderly house and garden are alluring, my impending empty nest is not.

My rugged mountain is taking steps like these, to let my children go--coaxing them toward adulthood. I think Momma is having the harder time. She's asking for strength and grace too.

A Great Blogger

2009-08-29T22:30:00.003-04:00

I wasn't getting any updates on the Amy's Humble Musings blog during the last month, but I've discovered that she has been writing. She is one of the best bloggers I've come across. Like me, you probably don't really have time for blog reading. I steal time to read a paragraph here, a paragraph there. When you can steal some time, read her August posts. She is incredibly funny.

We made it!

2009-08-29T10:21:00.002-04:00

Yeah, we made it to the fair! What a blast!

That money my mom sent? It ended up going to medical bills, so we were praying and thinking about how we would pay for our annual, non-negotiable fair visit--the one that the children talk about and look forward to ALL year. Short of robbing a bank, we were committed to going.

You'll never guess how it all went down....my husband's aluminum cans! Yes, that nasty, ant-drawing habit of his, which has driven me nuts for ten years. He collects them on our family walks, at his workplace, and here at home when he indulges in Mt. Dew. When we lived in California, aluminum-can proceeds paid for his annual trips to see UCLA football games. Here in Ohio, very little money comes from a year of collecting. Nevertheless, he took them in this week, hoping to obtain enough money for entrance fees and a few fair rides, and the non-negotiable funnel cakes.

Incidentally, I don't understand why Northeastern Ohio doesn't put strawberries on their funnel cakes! Plain powered sugar doesn't provide the same mouth-watering, much-anticipated treat.....but oh well. Ohio does have abundant frogs and insects for my Daniel, so I'll forgive them for their funnel-cake ignorance.

Grandpa came with us and paid for the entrance fee ($8) before we could stop him. He then, not knowing anything about Don's aluminum-can money, bought the children two funnel cakes to share. Now my Dad--though very generous--has no money sense. Unchecked, he would spend his own grocery money on others' perceived needs. We managed to keep him in check after this and Don paid for the fair rides, and for some fried chicken. I would never in a million years make fried chicken at home--too unhealthy. Not that funnel cakes are healthy either, but this is the fair, for goodness sakes! Time to eat and be merry!

What was your favorite thing about the fair?

Daddy - FOOD! (We get the same answer for virtually every food-involved event! LOL)
Daniel - Farm animals
Emily Rose - Grandpa
Timothy - The rides!
Grandpa - Being generous (My answer for him)
Momma - Walking around while holding my sweet, sleeping Anna Grace.
Anna Grace - New things to see! (My answer for her)

able to comfort

2009-08-28T09:42:00.003-04:00

Would you rather be comfortable, or able to comfort? How, exactly, does one learn to comfort? Is it natural for some, and therefore, done at will? I honestly don't think so. I submit to you that you have to be uncomfortable, for a season, in order to comfort. So, knowing that, which would you choose--to be comfortable, or able to comfort?

My father called one day recently and asked how I was doing. "I'm blessed. Thank you for asking." He laughed and said, "Yeah. Blessed with problems!"

A few days ago there was nothing in the freezer to prepare for dinner. No money would come in for several days. So I took out my WIC coupons, which are from the Department of Agriculture. Designed for pregnant or breastfeeding mothers and for children under five-years-old, the program (not an entitlement) provides supplemental milk, cheese, eggs, cereal, and juice. My guess is that many a family use these coupons to obtain egg and cheese omelet fixings for a few dinners, while waiting for payday to arrive.

I'm grateful for the help. And I now know the shame of putting food coupons on the checkout stand while everyone stares--at me, at my clothes, purse, and shoes--wondering if I am truly poor. They are either disgusted, neutral, or compassionate.

I am uncomfortable, for a season. And now, I am equipped to comfort. I will forever be the compassionate one at the checkout stand, ready with a smile.

Yes, Dad. My problems are a blessing.

It's all good

2009-08-26T14:09:00.007-04:00

That lull in the action I spoke of a few days ago? Short-lived. Anna Grace had a day and a half off from teething. My beloved baby is back to biting her crib rail, her knuckles, her toys, and the breast that nourishes her. Still, playtime is unaffected; she continues to practice her standing-up balancing act. She even took one step forward, before falling. I watched her face for frustration. None; there was only excitement displayed on her beautiful, porcelain face. She simply got back up and tried again, and again, and again. I stand amazed at her physical capabilities! Now if she would only babble more! My children all favored physical feats over language development. Is it that hyper-active gene pool?

Sleep is once again hard for Anna to come by. Momma's day is taken up with getting her to sleep, or helping her go back to sleep. In between, there is a load of laundry done, a sandwich made, a drink poured, a hug given, a dance danced, or a spilled drink wiped up. It's all good..all rich. Yes, I have resorted to Tylenol for the teething--for her not me. LOL It helps some.

And the homeschool planning? Exactly two hours have been painstakingly carved out for this endeavor. Anna's teething situation has prevented me from having additional blocks of time, thus far. And yet, I am relaxed. When called by God to do something, failure isn't possible, so long as we follow His lead.

My task later today is to use the computer to design a homeschooling prayer journal. That must be first priority, lest my teaching load start to overwhelm. For not only must I formally teach the boys, but Emily Rose needs extra storytime, more singing, and color, number, shape, and phonics work. Anna Grace needs vocabulary, singing and rhyme time. Homeschooling literally starts at the birth of each child, and continues until they pack up their clunkers for college.

Incidentally, I never drank in college, nor did I run with anyone who drank. And yet these binge-drinking news stories have me petrified about sending my kids to college! How does one send them off, with such danger lurking? Daniel is careful...even timid and anxious; about him, I need not be concerned. It's Timothy and Rose I'll worry about.

Anyhow, the future is already being prayed about. It pays sometimes to be a worrier. Every friendship, every courtship, every spouse, every marriage...even the purity and fertility of each child--I've got it all covered. My nervousness is good for something after all.

Now back to that journal I'll design tonight; it will guide me through daily prayer for the learning needs of each child. With such a tool, their minds will definitely get filled this year--not from me, but from Him, through me.

Anna Grace had another toe prick for her iron level yesterday. After 3.5 weeks of iron-food treatment, her level went from 8.9 to 9.5--despite her six-day virus. It is common for illnesses to temporarily lower hemoglobin levels. A chart I consulted indicated that for a nine-month-old baby, a hemoglobin level of less than 10 is considered anemic. Anna will be nine months in two weeks. She is gaining ground anyway, and will be tested again in October.

Song of Hope - God of Heaven Come Down

2009-08-23T18:00:00.004-04:00

Timothy and I were making enchiladas just now. One of my favorite Christian songs came on the radio so we abandoned our task to dance and sing and lift our hands. I find there's no greater joy than singing to Jesus with my children. Even Anna Grace got involved and "boogied" with joy.

Praising God with my children fills me with such deep gratitude. They don't have a perfect Momma, but they have a perfect Savior, and a Momma who loves Him. That makes them rich.

Thank you, dear Lord, for yanking me out of the darkness. Thank you that my children know you!

Go here for a video of this song.

Robbie Seay Band - Song Of Hope Lyrics

All things bright and beautiful You are
All things wise and wonderful You are
In my darkest night, You brighten up the skies
A song will rise

I will sing a song of hope
Sing along
God of heaven come down
Heaven come down
Just to know that You are near is enough
God of heaven come down, heaven come down

All things new
I can start again
Creator, God
Calling me Your friend
Sing praise, my soul
To the Maker of the skies
A song will rise

I will sing a song of hope
Sing along
God of heaven come down
Heaven come down
Just to know You and be loved is enough
God of heaven come down, heaven come down

Hallelujah, sing
Hallelujah, sing
Hallelujah, sing

a lull in the action

2009-08-23T09:24:00.005-04:00

Dare I say it? I think there is a lull in the action for the first time in awhile. God has answered that prayer.

Anna is sleeping well (no..not through the night yet), eating, and...wait for it...rash free!!!

Emily Rose is sleeping wonderfully at night and taking good naps!

No one else has gotten Anna's virus; we must all have immunity to this one.

Don is doing well in computer-tech school and really enjoys it! Yahoo! He may have found his niche. My dad gave us a 4 yr. old computer that Don can take apart and use as a learning aide.

My brother, who also suffers from ADD, has done wonderfully in the computer field without any degree; he has certifications only. My hunch is that the profession fits well with the handicaps and strengths inherent in the ADHD brain. Most importantly, their hyperfocus ability helps them keep up with sometimes-boring, highly-detailed, perpetually-changing technology. Okay, the sometimes-boring comment is a matter of opinion; computer technology IS boring to me. Just fix the thing, I say. Don't make me sit down and suffer through the specifics.

I do believe things are calm enough for me to begin planning a fall lesson schedule for the boys, as well as a simple one for Emily.

I'll be absent from this space for several days, as I devote my "free" time to planning.

Have a blessed week! Eat your produce, grains and be merry!

backwards domestics

2009-08-22T14:25:00.002-04:00

Footnotes: Past Deadline: Monkey See, Monkey Do

Click on the above post for a really funny treat! Stephanie's writing is technically perfect, and always so engaging and funny! She writes a weekly humor column in her local newspaper.

My husband usually puts Emily's clothes on backwards (and sometimes the baby's diapers). He tries really hard to determine which way is the front. Tags are his main hint, but girl's clothes don't always have tags, and sometimes the tags are in the front.

What funny, backwards thing does your husband do domestically?

Five a day

2009-08-22T12:12:00.002-04:00

There she is, standing and clapping for herself! My goodness! This child looks just like me! That's my smile.

If you're wondering when a picture will be taken of my living room without laundry baskets in the background....well, don't hold your breath. At least I'm keeping up with the washing!

Super Walmart is carrying a new brand of frozen fruit. This is sooo delicious! Highly recommend it on a hot summer day. Just leave out at room temperature and keep checking it for the perfect eating temperature.

Make sure you're getting your five a day by preparing a quick, easy graph you can affix to the fridge, detailing daily produce consumption. Seeing what you're consuming everyday will help you make that extra effort to get enough servings. A graph for whole-grain foods is helpful too. Believe me, it REALLY helps to do this, even if for a month or so.

better day

2009-08-21T17:31:00.003-04:00

Hey Jess, thanks for throwing your prayers my way. I actually had a much better day. Both of Anna's rashes (yeast and the viral/fever rash) are nearly gone. She nursed pretty well today, although she still won't take more than a few bites of solids. I fear we are going backwards with the iron levels. Clearly, I have to let go of that stressful issue. I've given it my all, and I'm ready to surrender it.

My floors are clean, and Anna took her naps without any help from me. Due to her nearly constant playtime practice sessions, Anna can stand up unsupported for five seconds now. We keep clapping and getting excited over this, so she began clapping her hands back at us, flashing us a million-dollar smile as a bonus.

Yes, I'm sad she doesn't want to stay a baby. She's racing her way out of babyhood, literally. But how can I be anything but happy for her? She works so hard! She's so focused and determined, without showing any sign of frustration. They're good qualities, which I'll praise and clap and jump up about, even as my heart aches for earlier times.

Daniel walked at 9.5 months, and it looks like Anna may match or beat him. I think that boy better start training. Lil Sis is going to give him a run for his money!

Oh, No. Yet Another

2009-08-19T13:55:00.006-04:00

About 90 minutes after I applied the Oil of Oregano, Anna broke out in a body rash. I panicked, thinking she was allergic and would go into shock. Not likely, I know. But there was still that feeling of "Oh, no! What have I done?"

Since learning of her anemia, I've been so nervous about her health! In a saner moment, I remembered that babies younger than 12 months tend to get rashes with their fevers and viruses--something that happens less often in the older baby.

I called the doctor to see if she should be seen, but he was only having office hours until noon today, and my family was gone with the van. He suspects the rash is related to the virus. No, I don't usually call my doctor this often. Rarely, in fact.

He said it is unlikely that a resistance would have been built up against the anti-fungal cream, by the way.

I'll take her into the office tomorrow if the body rash doesn't clear. If it's an allergic reaction, I want to learn to identify it as such. All trace of fever is gone, and her face, shoulders and trunk are the main rashy areas. It's probably a non-specific viral illness, which are common in summer.

Sorry. Another boring post to read. I figure each sentence I construct--no matter how boring the topic--leads me one step closer to writing for a part-time living someday.

Someday in the very distant future.

Now this is a post worth reading, found below. Joy, the author, is wise beyond her years. She grew up in a solid Christian home, and it shows. I had trouble linking this, as I downloaded a new browser (Chrome), which I'm not used to yet. Here is the cut and paste of her post:

August 19, 2009
Coming to the hard stops of soul care...
I have a dear friend who has gently been watching over me from a distance.

Yesterday, she asked me how I was doing- really doing. Not the "I'm fine, just great!" question. More like the "how are you and God these days?" question. Followed hard upon with the next question- "are you taking care of yourself?"

In my dear friend's mind, the two are quite intertwined. One can't be answered without the other, because to her, taking care of oneself naturally means that one is meeting with God too. Me? I tend the separate out the two by default- as if one could exist without the other, like somehow one could technically be okay without the God-flow in our lives. And there, I err. And I know it too, that I cannot survive, cannot breathe in the space of my days without the sustaining force of my Lord, and yet- and yet...I starve more often than not. I hold myself back from the provision He has so graciously given me, mine for the taking if I would only stop. And listen. And pray.

Sometimes when my friend asks these hard questions, I shrink within. I know she expects an honest answer, and the honesty is sometimes too appalling. Her gentle touches seem to wound, but they are the best kind- the type that excise the infection from a gash and set it to proper healing. But yesterday, I bloomed with the joy that I could answer positively to both questions. Yes, God and I were meeting. He was there, and I was attendant. And yes, I was taking care of myself, as best as I can possibly could with a brand new babe. She probed a bit further, just to be sure, as she knows I have struggled with postpartum depression in the past. And as we talked, I mentioned that it bothered me that it took me until my fifth child, my miracle baby, to finally learn the art of self care. Of soul care. Was it not important with the other four children? Was not my need for sustenance important all the other days that I have walked this journey? I am not sure why. I am still puzzling over this.

As our conversation drew to a close, I was thinking about why this time was different, why I could honestly answer my friend, without one shred of guilt, that yes, I was caring for myself in both the physical and the spiritual sense.

Sustenance.

I tend to try to do too many things at once. Just one more task, one more minute, one more, one more, one more. Until am I exhausted, drawn out, and unable to function. This is my biggest danger when a new baby is in the house, and I knew it. Saw it for the trap it was, and had been prayerfully considering it all summer long. It wasn't until I read Katherine's post, No NAK , that something clicked in my mind. Here's a small snippet of what she said:

NAK is online slang for "nursing at keyboard." I've made this mistake in the past. I won't do it again. The amount of time I spend nursing my newborn is tremendous. If I used every nursing session as a chance to check email, Facebook or Google Reader I would be on the computer for most of the day and night. Nursing is a special time to bond with one's baby, building the foundation for a lifelong relationship. I can't bond and build anything if I'm balancing a nursing baby on an elbow and knee and staring at a screen.

Now, Katherine's post was talking about time spent online in general, and this was just a small part of the whole article. But she goes on from this paragraph to say that she has set up her space near her rocking chair as place for prayer. (She's Orthodox.) I think that's what clicked together in my mind as I read this over a month ago now, before Josiah was born. I feel like I've definitely come to a place of balance with my online time, and I don't feel the least bit guilty about my current usage. My thoughts tend to reflect Katherine's in practically all points. But on the other hand, I am horrible about regular prayer times. It is one of those things that constantly discourages me about myself, because as I've said, it's akin to starving!

I resolved at that point that nursing and prayer time, as much as I was able, were to be definitively linked after Josiah was born. I had also decided, in tandem, that no longer would I try to do forty things at once while nursing (you'd be amazed what you can do with a sling or a moby and a willing baby). I would sit down, I would put my feet up, I would have something to drink nearby, and I would stop. The only thing I would 'allow' myself was the chance to read, but even then, only in the early evening hours.

For the last three weeks, that is exactly what I have been doing. Every two and a half, three hours, I stop. I rest. I pray. I marvel at the miracle of Josiah.

And wouldn't you know, I am in a much better head space, emotionally, physically, mentally, spiritually?

Sustenance.

Ann Voskamp has been doing a series on spiritual disciplines, and this month's focus has been on prayer. Today she wrote an article called prayer: why we struggle (and how not to). Please click over and read the whole thing, the whole series. It is very good. But here is what caught my eye:

"I never notice it when I just pray after reading Scripture, early or late, when we pray before and after meals. Prayer's short, convenient. It's only when I began to follow the way of Jesus and the early church in fixed hour prayer, feeding my soul at certain fixed times like I eat at certain fixed times, and I was confronted with this consistent struggle to cease working and kneel in prayer, that I realized the true ugliness of my lack of prayer.

It's a startling, wrenching thing to discover that it's not time, or busyness, or pressing concerns that prevent one from prayer. The extent of prayer in one's life is a direct function of whether something else has been set up as more important than God. "

My nursing/prayer times immediately came to mind. It has been very hard for me to come to these hard stops and well, stop. To meet God. It has been a constant struggle actually, to just be still. But even in these short three weeks, I realize how much the better I am for it. And I am shamed by that realization, that statement, that something else has been set up as more important than God. And I question, with Ann, as to why I let my soul starve when the answer is so very simple. Yet I cannot help but see the sort of humor my Lord has, as he has brought me to sustenance through the very act of sustaining- of nursing! As I am nourishing Josiah, through God's grace, the Lord is nourishing me. It makes me smile to think upon it, this gentle irony. Oh that I would learn! His ways are always better.

Isaiah 66:11-13

11 For you will nurse and be satisfied
at her comforting breasts;
you will drink deeply
and delight in her overflowing abundance."
12 For this is what the LORD says:
"I will extend peace to her like a river,
and the wealth of nations like a flooding stream;
you will nurse and be carried on her arm
and dandled on her knees.

13 As a mother comforts her child,
so will I comfort you;
and you will be comforted over Jerusalem."

Posted by Joy at 01:55:03 PM in Listening, Momma musings

yet another

2009-08-19T10:31:00.004-04:00

You've probably been thinking lately that if this woman writes one more blog post about yeast, or about menstrual cycles and nursing, or about nipple blisters, than I will most decidedly QUIT reading. Well..........here goes.

I had that rash nearly healed, I tell you. Miss Vinegar Butt was nearly ready to say goodbye to her vinegar rinses, when her beloved Daddy lost the tube of anti-fungal cream. We looked for two days. Nowhere. Instead of calling for another prescription, I thought since it was nearly healed we could get away with an over-the-counter anti-fungal. Well, no. It got worse. So on the third day I asked Don to run to the pediatrician's office and ask for another prescription. My fear was that since we had quit using the first cream before the rash was completely gone, the yeast would likely develop a resistance, making it prudent to use something different this time. Somehow that didn't get conveyed to the secretaries, who just brought out a prescription for the same stuff. $35 later, my fear seems to have been warranted. No response from the yeast colony to this cream.

I am continuing with it for a few more days, however, before embarrassing ourselves one more time and going back for more help. I've added apple-cider vinegar instead of white vinegar, and now also Oil of Oregano, which has been used forever for yeast. I also bought the super expensive Huggies Overnights in size four, which is a size too big. When I can, I am letting Anna fall asleep on my bed, and staying with her so I can keep her diaper open.

Anna is still teething, although the three-day fever is gone. There were no other symptoms so I assume it was the teething. These babies do go through so much their first year! Heavens!

Despite the jaw pain, she is still having fun during playtime, having added a new skill to her gym time--standing up without support. She squats down, then slowly rises up, while trying to keep her balance. It lasts for a few seconds only, but she really enjoys the challenge and practices a lot.

The family went to the much-anticipated playdate without me. I am heartbroken, but I have to focus on getting rid of this rash and helping Anna take reasonable naps during this bout of teething. Walking through the hot and sticky woods, and playing outside in this horrible humidity would have surely made the rash worse.

I do miss my other children! And they do feel neglected! May God's grace take over!

Outings

2009-08-17T14:06:00.004-04:00

Peaches didn't do well in Ohio this year. However, in our county, they did better. We went to this nearby peach and apple farm, which features a yearly, gorgeous community garden. So much feast for the eye. Lots of insects to catch too. You can't tell here, but this garden is huge.

Enjoyed blueberry picking at this spot. July was unusually cool. August is sweltering.

A nice view at the peach and apple farm. They also grow some sweet corn, but not our favorite. Our favorite spot for sweet corn is four minutes from our home. Best corn you'll ever sink your teeth into! You always smile after biting--it's such a delight!

More of the community garden. And my insect-loving Daniel.

Daniel snapped this the other day. It features my dad's 27-year-old wife, a bit of my dad, and Timothy. Yeah, she's young. Yeah, he's 70. What's a daughter to do? I can only go with the flow.

I'm off to make some applesauce with the kiddos. Looks like my teething-torn baby has finally fallen asleep. Her first nap was only 20 minutes--hoping for a normal one this time.

out of my own heart

2009-08-17T09:53:00.002-04:00

I really loved this post on parenting. Every bit is straight out of my own heart.

My Anna Grace and her bout of teething is kicking my behind good. She's running a temperature and struggling to nurse and waking us up every hour or so. Zombie city around here. I really needed this post this morning. What a great blog!

Canadian Healthcare

2009-08-16T10:15:00.006-04:00

I recently asked two Canadian bloggers to give us details about the Canadian health care system, which is known to provide universal coverage. I thought it might help us sort through the partisan "facts" we're being given about reforming health care here in America. You will find the Canadian responses below. Thank you so much, ladies, for taking the time to do this!

Don and I are concerned about the tax burden coming our way from a health-care overhaul. We agree that we need a system that covers everyone, but coupled with the higher energy bills forced on us by Cap and Trade, higher taxes will undoubtedly force me--and other stay-at-home moms--into the workforce. Moreover, we might be forced to obtain cheap, low-quality daycare. Our gas and electric together already run between $280 and $325/month. While not having health care is a huge worry, not being able to raise my own children is an even bigger burden--it's a heartbreaker actually.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Authored by Sandi, from the A Mother's Musings blog.

This is such a hot and difficult topic. For the record I am an American who's been living in Canada for 11 years.

There are pros and cons to both systems. Health Care in Canada is NOT free as others seem to think. The taxes are high IMO and we pay a monthly fee, yet when we couldn't pay it was free. The crazy thing about that though is they base your coverage off your last year's income. So if you made 100,000 last year....your med coverage is based on that when you are unemployed the next year. Doesn't make too much sense.

In Canada you do wait for things. If you have a heart attack they deal with it but several other non life-threatening yet painful surgeries are cancelled to do so. I remember with one of the babies I lost at 12 weeks, I spent 5 hours in the hospital waiting for the DNC, with IV all hooked up ready to go. I was sent home because of some emergency and was told they had no idea when I could get in again to have it done. They said my only option was meds to force it. My baby had been gone for 4 weeks and even with that risk I was sent home. It does feel like at times you have to be dying to get attention. Waiting for a hip replacement for 18 months is a real quality of life issue.

But I also have a friend whose husband was diagnosed with cancer and he was taken care of right away. You wait for MRI's, which shouldn't wait. The waiting list to get a child evaluated for ADHD, Austism, etc. is up to 2 years where I live. We went private and fortunately have great extended medical through my husband's work. If you don't have extended or money ....you wait.

When government runs everything with a heavy hand, that spells trouble to me.

My personal experience in Canada--no tomatoes please--is that this health care system has created an entitlement mentality. People go to emerg for silly things because it won't cost them extra money. Doctor's offices become revolving doors instead of a place to get "needed" care. It is almost impossible where I live to get a family doctor; they aren't taking patients.

Yet, the socialist way is that all are equal and shouldn't go without care due to lack of money. Which is a great idea and I agree, but how to do that practically is the dilemma.

Yet again, there is a quality of life issue that comes up. When my son was pre-natally diagnosed with T-18, they wrote him off and told me they WOULD NOT medically help him when he was born. They can legally do that on the grounds that he wouldn't have a full life anyway. They even suggested I starve him if he did live through labor. Let's just say they got an earful.

I did have four births and 2 miscarriages without paying a dime above our monthly fee and taxes so it "feels" like it's free, but nothing is ...is it!

Not sure if this helps.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Authored by Steph, from the Footnotes blog.

First off, no system is perfect. Sandi is right - there are pros and cons to both. I also agree that, technically, our health care is not free. We do pay higher taxes in Canada. My parents traveled in the States last summer and were amazed by how inexpensive it was to eat in a restaurant. Once you pile on the taxes here, it can get costly. I also agree with Sandi's entitlement comment. This is something that annoys me - I hate people going to emerge for hangnails. I consider very carefully before I go to the doctor because I know the system is sometimes stretched.

I think what astounds me the most about the American reaction is that it sounds to me (and forgive me if I am wrong or oversimplifying) that what is being proposed would simply guarantee coverage for people who don't have insurance. I think many politicians are opting for partisan politics and scare-mongering rather than trying to find ways to make this work, which is typical of democracy. I was amazed to learn that millions and millions of Americans don't have health insurance. The idea that there are people in the U.S. who opt not to go to the doctor for something truly serious because they will have to pay for it is so foreign to me - and I think that is an unfortunate thing for a developed nation.

Yes, our taxes are higher. Yes, our system is overburdened. Yes, we have a shortage of doctors in some communities (they can make more money in the States so that's where many of them go). Yes, sometimes wait times are longer. But these are all things that an injection of cash can fix, and up until the economic recession, government surpluses helped. Wait times vary depending on the community, but if it's an emergency you're dealt with. My mom has had two knee replacements. She had to wait several months, but didn't pay a dime. My dad has had heart surgery (quadruple bypass) and colon surgery (cancer) and was treated in a reasonable timeframe and didn't pay a dime. I have had two babies and two miscarriages. I had good care and didn't pay a dime.

I am a Canadian and have lived in the same community for most of my life. I was fortunate to have the same doctor for about 30 years before he left his practice, and was lucky enough to find another doctor in my town even though there is a doctor shortage. My experiences with our health care system have, so far, been good. Not everyone has positive experiences and, yes, there can be glitches, but the comfort of knowing that if I am sick I don't have to think about seeking help - I wouldn't trade that.

I think governments - yours and mine - need to put people first more often. I would rather see my tax dollars go to health care and the environment than to many other "priorities" that have been deemed in Canada. Maybe both of our governments need to think about redirecting cash spent on other initiatives. After all, healthy people can achieve great things.

I don't know if that helps...no tomatoes here, I hope! :)

Teeth and Playdates

2009-08-15T09:59:00.013-04:00

Good Saturday morning to you.

My sweet Anna Grace birthed her first tooth this week. The other day Emily Rose came to me, holding up her finger.

Emily: "The baby bit me, Mommy."

Momma: "Did she get you with her gums? She doesn't actually have teeth yet." (I had checked that morning--nothing)

Emily: "No, Mommy. Baby bit me."

I told her I was sorry and that Anna didn't mean to hurt her. I still didn't think it was an actual bite, but I wasn't going to argue with a two-year-old.

Later that evening Grandpa and his wife came over for a barbecue. While holding the baby, my Dad said, laughing: "She's got some pretty sharp teeth."

Momma: "I checked this morning and didn't feel anything. Are you sure it was a tooth?"

Grandpa: "She's got teeth now."

Lo and behold, Anna had birthed her first tooth, after 2.5 months of hard labor.

Momma: "Yippee! Maybe she'll sleep tonight!"

Wishful thinking.

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In other news, we went on another park playdate with the homeschoolers. It wasn't naptime for Anna, and since she cries when alone with Daddy, he elected to come with us rather than watch Anna by himself. It would have been impossible to manage the four of them on my own at a large park, so once again I was thanking the Lord for the help.

In some ways I know we would be on a tighter routine without him home, but the extra hands help with the nearly constant diaper changes, potty trips, laundry, and meal-making. Some days this is ALL we manage to get done. People who see our yard (weeds,toys) probably think we're lazy. With two adults home it should be neater, they surmise; I know my Dad thinks that. However, my husband never rests. Helping to care for the children, going to his part-time jobs, looking for full-time jobs, and doing his computer-tech schoolwork, makes for more than a full day. Without the experience of having four children close together, no one can fathom how busy we are.

When evaluating how you're "doing" in your life, always remember to avoid comparing yourself to others. Everyone has a different set of blessings and a different set of challenges. And no one is truly privy to the baggage we might have from our upbringing. Indeed, even when the baggage is old news and completely forgiven, it still affects our skill set as adults. Such baggage is part of the human condition; imperfect parents make for imperfect kids.

Now back to that play date I began writing about. It was awesome! Just two other ladies were there this time. One was the original organizer of the event, Dawn, and a new mom, Kim. Both have rather soft-spoken, gentle personalities--much like mine. My writing isn't always gentle, I know. But if you were to meet me, you would only see soft-spokenness, mixed with an openness and joy and a bit of nervousness. It's a funny thing how writing brings out different aspects of our personality.

It was so nice to feel completely at ease with these ladies! The whole time I was thanking the Lord for the experience, even though I was cognizant that one of the ladies was probably nearly half my age, and the other around thirty. Don thinks I could be way off, but oh well. The point is I'm old. No way around that.

Dawn, the young Michigan-transplant mom who organized it, has two daughters, ages 2 and 4.5. Her husband was transferred here for a year to work in a General Motors plant. They are half expecting a layoff soon though. If not, they'll go back to Michigan to resume work in his other plant, presumably--in a year.

The other mom, an unschooler (meaning the entire curriculum is interest-driven only) has three children--ages around 7, 4, and 1. She suspects that her four-year-old son needs more structure than unschooling provides. He's a live wire, it seems. I can share some tips on dealing with live wires, if she ever asks. LOL

My boys made fast friends with Faith, Dawn's older daughter; she's a tomboy who loves insects. Don took these three out into a field, looking for butterflies. As the Lord would have it, he caught a praying mantis for Faith, who had brought her net and insect container to the park. Faith and her Mom were thrilled! Daniel and Daddy proceeded to find three small insects for it to eat.

Later, the three kids found a tiny toad at the base of a tree. We all admired his cuteness, as though he were a newborn baby just home from the hospital. Homeschoolers are a bit weird, as people go. I find that we are amazingly similar in some subtle ways. For example, the outdoor classroom--or any classroom away from home--holds a special place in our hearts. Stumbling upon learning is a thrill up our spines!

Daniel was initially sad that Daddy hadn't caught HIM a mantis, but it was a good lesson in putting others above one's self. Daniel had already had the experience of caring for a praying mantis AND its egg sac, in 2008. We'll find another this year, I'm sure.

The ladies and I enjoyed each other's children, and shared ideas on what educational field trips were available in our area of Ohio. And the new mom invited us to her mini-farm next Wednesday for a lunch play date. She has 30 apples trees in her orchard, and a ton of blackberry bushes in the woods behind her home. We'll be picking blackberries! We're all as excited as a group of kindergartners taking their first field trip! LOL

Dear Lord, you are good! What a blessing!

As an aside, if you are praying for a close relative, and have been for awhile--sometimes losing faith--this is for you.

praising chocolate

2009-08-13T08:13:00.002-04:00

THIS ARTICLE SINGS THE PRAISES OF CHOCOLATE! READ ON AND ENJOY! LOVE THOSE ANTIOXIDANTS!

Chocolate 'cuts death rate' in heart attack survivors

AFP/File – Heart attack survivors who eat chocolate two or more times per week cut their risk of dying from heart … by Marlowe Hood Marlowe Hood – 1 hr 5 mins ago
PARIS (AFP) – Heart attack survivors who eat chocolate two or more times per week cut their risk of dying from heart disease about threefold compared to those who never touch the stuff, scientists have reported.

Smaller quantities confer less protection, but are still better than none, according to the study, which appears in the September issue of the Journal of Internal Medicine.

Earlier research had established a strong link between cocoa-based confections and lowered blood pressure or improvement in blood flow.

It had also shown that chocolate cuts the rate of heart-related mortality in healthy older men, along with post-menopausal women.

But the new study, led by Imre Janszky of the Karolinska Institute in Stockholm, is the first to demonstrate that consuming chocolate can help ward off the grim reaper if one has suffered acute myocardial infarction -- otherwise known as a heart attack.

"It was specific to chocolate -- we found no benefit to sweets in general," said Kenneth Mukamal, a researcher at Beth Israel Deaconess Medical Center in Boston and a co-author of the study.

"It seems that antioxidants in cocoa are a likely candidate" for explaining the live-saving properties, he told AFP in an exchange of e-mails.

Antioxidants are compounds that protect against so-called free radicals, molecules which accumulate in the body over time that can damage cells and are thought to play a role in heart disease, cancer and the aging process.

In the study, Janszky and colleagues tracked 1,169 non-diabetic men and women, 45-to-70 years old, in Stockholm County during the early 1990s from the time they were hospitalised with their first-ever heart attack.

The participants were queried before leaving hospital on their food consumption habits over the previous year, including how much chocolate they ate on a regular basis.

They underwent a health examination three months after discharge, and were monitored for eight years after that. The incidence of fatal heart attacks correlated inversely with the amount of chocolate consumed.

"Our findings support increasing evidence that chocolate is a rich source of beneficial bioactive compounds," the researchers concluded.

The results held true for men and women, and across all the age groups included in the study.

Other factors that might have affected the outcome -- alcohol consumption, obesity, smoking -- were also taken into account.

So should we all be loading up on cocoa-rich sweets?

"To be frank, I'm pretty cautious about chocolate because we're working on weight problems with so many individuals," said Mukamal, who is also a practising physician.

"However, I do encourage those who are looking for healthier desserts to consider chocolate in small quantities," he said.

"For individuals with no weight issues who have been able to eat chocolate in moderation and remain slim, I do not limit it," he added.

The researchers caution that clinical trials are needed to back up the findings of their study.

In the meantime, however, a bit of chocolate may not be amiss, they suggest.

friendly advice

2009-08-12T12:34:00.005-04:00

Once again I find myself getting valuable information from the Internet, rather than from my pediatrician, who is nevertheless nice and almost always nonjudgmental and unassuming. I've had condescending doctors and they definitely aren't for me. When I'm done nursing most of my disagreements with this doctor will have passed away. In the meantime, I'll research new doctors.

Yeast is the research subject for today. A call into the doctor's office yesterday revealed that the expected cure doesn't come from anti-fungal creams (for diaper rash) until 2-4 weeks. I was told once again to be sure and let baby go without a diaper on, even if it's just in the crib during naps.

I didn't say so, but that appalled me even more this time, because yeast is contagious and can spread. She will reach down there and scratch, followed by putting her hands in her mouth because her gums hurt mightily--leading possibly to thrush. Thrush is a horrible thing to get rid of in the nursing couple. It can invade Momma's milk ducts and lead to excruciating, deep shooting pain between nursings. Baby feels pain as well when she nurses. Many nursing couples have to quit nursing due to the difficulty involved in completely getting rid of the infection. I've only read about this but have never experienced it, thank God.

Anna gave me a nipple blister due to her shallow latch caused by teething pain. No tooth yet--anywhere! I'm desperately pursuing her so she'll keep up with milk production. And I'm putting every effort into getting rid of the diaper rash and keeping her hands away from the area. Having open-skin cuts or blisters make it far more likely that yeast will invade, so I'm being diligent about keeping any yeast away from my nipples (as well as from her mouth). Oh, how I don't want a run in with thrush!

Here are some great tips I found online, which you or a friend might need someday. It is working wonders with Anna's rash--I think it should be gone in a few more days.

-Rinse baby with equal parts water and vinegar at each diaper change. Yeast don't like the acid in vinegar.

-Apply anti-fungal cream nearly every diaper change, rather than just twice a day as instructed. Yeast grow back in 90 minutes, so twice a day isn't enough.

-Wash all linens in hot water and put vinegar into the wash. Just hot water and soap probably aren't enough to kill the yeast.

-Rinse bathmats with bleach or with vinegar, to prevent spreading.

-Cut down on any sugar in the older baby's diet (yeast like sugar-laden diets).

For more information on all things breastfeeding related, I like this Canadian doctor's advice (Dr. Jack Newman), found here.

Help Canada! Need Answers!

2009-08-12T08:59:00.005-04:00

America is becoming increasingly angry about governmental overspending and rising deficits, which put our children and grandchildren at risk of excessive taxes and a lower quality of life. The last six months have been a whirlwind of hasty bills and partisan politics.

Currently, the anger is reaching alarming levels as Senators hold town-hall meetings to discuss health-care reform and a possible governmental take over of our health care system. Most of the fear comes from the unknown. Will the astronomical costs of trying to cover so many people lead to rationing and to "death panels", as Sarah Palin's Facebook comments hint at? Will older folks or the disabled--who have a cancer diagnosis or other fatal disease--just be given morphine at the end, with no expensive attempt to prolong their lives? Will their productivity in society be part of the equation?

Too little specifics are actually out there to know for sure. Those that say yes site the health-care systems in Britain and Canada as evidence. I have two Canadian readers--Steph and Sandi--who I hope can shed some light on how it actually works in Canada. My guess is that you're happy with your well-care coverage. But have you--or your family or friends--had experiences with more alarming diagnoses? Please share your thoughts. I'll put them into a guest post if you don't mind. My guess--which may be way off--is that one of you leans to the left in politics and the other leans to the right; between your two perspectives we can probably get some valuable answers concerning our debate here in America. Thank you!

P.S. I know you're both busy so answer only if/when you have the time.

Here is my e-mail: 44us@sbcglobal.net

The Graduate

2009-08-10T20:48:00.004-04:00

My precious Daniel graduated from first grade today! Congratulations, Doodlebug! I'm so proud of you!

The portfolio review went very well. The teacher who served us--a former elementary teacher and homeschool mom--was very gentle and kind. Daniel was very shy and barely said a word, but I think he liked her and I know he was pleased with how it went. We had met her briefly earlier this year at some homeschooling art events she sponsored. Her son is already in college and is a champion ice skater. He earned his Bachelor's Degree last year--at age twenty! Now in graduate school, he is still into competitive skating. I suspect his mom has these side jobs to help pay for the skating, which is a very expensive venture. She earns $30 for every homeschooling review she does, which makes me wish I had an Ohio credential! $30/hour ain't bad!

Anyhow, she thought Daniel accomplished a lot. And she said we had more social studies and science samples than she ever sees! Yeah for Daddy! Those are his subjects!

It surprised her that my husband was involved. She thinks it's typical for husbands to be against the home-teaching process, to varying degrees. A mom she met with last week was in tears during her meeting; her husband wants the kids in school next year, and every year thereafter. As soon as I heard that I felt horrible for the mom, and then I praised the Lord for my husband! Some things in my life are very hard, but my husband is really a bright spot--as is each child of course. There are plenty of things Don does that drive me nuts--the least of which are socks taken off and thrown wherever, and trashing the kitchen and floor when he cooks--but I am fortunate that we have the same vision for the children. That is priceless! I know that a Dad's leadership in Bible study, prayer, AND learning go even further than a Mom's does. Statistics prove it, although I'm too tired to find the articles again and link them. Sorry. Momma's one tired girl!

After two months of teething behavior, I think my Anna is finally going to be sporting a tooth soon. Lately she sticks her finger in her mouth during nursing--ouch for Momma! It breaks the suction enough to provide her some pain relief, while still allowing some milk to get through. Another clue is that she is waking about every 60-90 minutes at night. Talk about undereye circles! I've been burning the oil trying to get the portfolio in tip top shape this week, and her wake ups on top of that have given life that boot-camp feel.

Parenting--the only boot camp you'll ever love!

Now you'll have to excuse me. If I don't stop and get ready for bed right now, I'll fall asleep right here and slump into the keyboard--which would surely wake my big girl, who turned eight months last Sunday! Seems like just yesterday I was drowning you in my newborn-nursing sob stories. Eight months old just doesn't seem possible!

Thank you, Liz, for the diaper-rash cream tip!

More research

2009-08-09T13:45:00.003-04:00

I found a very helpful pro-breastfeeding article on the breastfed baby and iron. My belief in the properties of breastmilk is so strong that I just wasn't satisfied with the previous information. This article indicates that the method I'm using to combat Anna's anemia could actually be making things worse. It is better to use high-iron foods to increase her hemoglobin, rather than iron-enriched foods (such as cereal). Additionally, liquid-iron supplementation is particularly problematic because more of it is available to the new bacteria present in the baby's gut (solid food changes baby's intestines--giving them a bacterial presence that breastmilk alone prohibits.) The bacteria utilize the freely-available iron, making less available for absorption into baby's body. Since the bacteria also diminishes the absorption properties of breastmilk, baby might actually be getting less iron than before.

The article includes a link about a mother whose baby tested at 9.1 when she was 7 months, 1 week old. Anna tested at 8.9 at 7 months, 12 days old. The baby in the article was given a small portion of high-iron foods and plenty of breastmilk--but no supplementation--and the hemoglobin went to a normal level in five weeks.

Here is the main article.

Like the author of the article, I do believe that breastmilk is a perfect food for a baby's entire first year, and possibly beyond. Anna was at high risk because of her birth weight being below 6.5 pounds, and because her growth rate has been rapid. Both of these factors caused a depletion of iron stores (present at birth) at a faster rate than they would deplete in the average baby. Anna was 5 pounds, 9 ounces at birth, and now at 8 months, she is 16 pounds, 10 ounces. She was 15 pounds at 6 months.

Timothy, born at the same birth weight, also grew rapidly, but he apparently did fine and has no developmental issues--leading me to believe his iron level probably wasn't an issue. He ate some solids starting at 9 months, but it wasn't until 18 months that his interest picked up and he began to eat three very small solid meals.

If your baby had a normal birth weight and the growth rate has been normal (doubled birth weight around 5-6 months, and tripled it around 1 year) then your baby's iron level is probably fine and you needn't rush the solids. When you do start solids, try using naturally iron-rich foods over iron-ENRICHED.

I've found that conventional advice for solids is mainly for the formula-fed baby. Some doctors aren't interested in digging deeper into the innate properties of breastmilk. Nevertheless, it is probably beneficial to have an iron test around nine months, just in case. The skin prick was barely noticed by Anna. And keep in mind that the iron level in a breastfed baby is particularly vulnerable when solids first start, if the solids chosen are iron-enriched, and especially if they are not served with vitamin C.

That awful smell

2009-08-09T11:32:00.005-04:00

This morning Anna Grace gave me a strange look during one of her numerous diaper changes. This one was a stinky. I guess we're still not used to that around here. Her face said it all: "What on earth is that awful smell, Momma?! It couldn't have come out of me, surely? Get it away!"

My sentiment exactly. I'm mourning the loss of neutral-smelling breastmilk poops.

And that yeast rash, after nearly 36 hours of treatment, is still not going away--or even looking like it will soon. It IS less raised, but still as red, and the spots seem to be running more together. Is this normal? The Internet says it should clear in about 3 days. Is that only for the Mommas smart enough to recognize it for what it is--and get into the doctor quick like? Did I just let it go too long and create a monster of a rash? We're using a size 4 diaper for now, which is plenty loose. And she is crawling around in just a shirt and diaper--allowing for plenty of air. I'm drying her skin well after rinsing her. Anyone have experience with this?

Thank you for the great tip left on the previous post, Terri! I'm excited about trying that method.

final exams

2009-08-08T13:08:00.004-04:00

Daniel's first-grade portfolio review is on Monday afternoon. A credentialed teacher will look at all his work and sign a statement indicating he is working at his ability level. I then send that signed statement to our school district late this month, with a list of the curriculum I'll use and the subjects I'll cover in 2009-10.

We're in the throes of final exams, much to Daniel's annoyance. No, they're not required. I just like the concept of final exams. In terms of writing a report card, they have more value than chapter or unit tests for the home-taught student. Chapter and unit tests are valuable mainly in deciding when to move on to new concepts. If they don't still know the tested concepts at the end of year, did they really learn them--or were they just covered? Final exams require comprehensive review that helps a student make cognitive connections that may have been missed earlier. The learning is then solidified, leading to mastery.

While his grades will be mostly B's, his attitude pretty much always stinks. I'll be giving him a U for unacceptable in attitude (he tantrums). It isn't the work; he enjoys learning and he genuinely likes the curriculum. It's sitting still instead of being outside that he hates, or sitting still when his siblings aren't. However, if his siblings are working nearby, they distract him.

Even with medication he struggles mightily to pay attention. When I look at the body of work he's accomplished this year, I see the grace of God staring back at me. It isn't Don's or my effort, or even Daniel's effort. It's grace. My dear son struggles to pay attention to even a simple, five-minute explanation--no matter the method. His eyes wander horribly. I was reading recently that ability to pay attention improves for the ADD/ADHD sufferer when eye therapy is used. Training the eyes to stay focused is most of the battle. Interesting, no?

Anyhow, much needed rest will happen after Monday. We'll take a couple weeks off, then start second grade. They are actually excited about starting their new curriculum!

Daniel really needs the steady routine of year-round school to help him control himself. Routine is everything. He normally finishes in a few hours, spaced over the morning and early afternoon. Plenty of mental rest is built in, and the frequent physical exertion he needs is easy to facilitate--except during the snow months. We won't go there. Suffice it to say that I am praying for gym-membership money.

Timothy will be schooled consistently this year too--his official kindergarten year--although I don't have to do anything formal with the school district. Kindergarten isn't actually compulsory; age six by a summer cutoff date starts compulsory education. He isn't six until November.

Iron deficiency in older children

2009-08-07T12:28:00.003-04:00

Iron deficiency can also be a problem with toddlers and older children, especially those drinking too much milk. Too much milk reduces absorption of iron. Also, diets low in vitamin C put a child at risk. Here is an article with information to help prevent iron deficiency.

Timothy was the same birth weight as Anna (5 pounds, 9 ounces). He was not interested in solids until 9 months, and even then, he loved his breastmilk most of all. He was never tested for anemia, but did possibly have it, given that his birth weight put him at risk, as well as his lack of supplementation. However, that child knew his letters and sounds and numbers to 20 before uttering his first sentence. I didn't teach him--only read books and provided learning videos when he wanted them. Now he can add numbers in his head better and faster than I can, and he reads like a second grader (at 5.5 years old). I AM worried sick about this iron thing, but I keep thinking of Timothy and how he beat the odds. I am praying!

Article about iron

2009-08-07T12:02:00.002-04:00

This article discusses nursing and formula-fed babies and iron issues. Worth reading.

Iron again

2009-08-07T10:51:00.002-04:00

Hi Jess,

Thank you!

Anna's hemoglobin was 8.9. I am mixing vitamin C fortified apple juice with the cereal because without vitamin C the iron in the cereal doesn't absorb well. Between the cereal and the Poly vi Sol w/iron liquid vitamin (also with C), she is getting more than 100% of her daily value of iron.

She is an extremely active baby. There was never any sign of lethargy--just consistent high activity. And there was no notable fussiness after her colicky days ended at 4.75 months. Her fingers are in her mouth frequently, so she is working on teeth for sure, but that doesn't affect playtime. She isn't pale and her finger nails look great. I read all the symptoms and she's never shown any sign of them.

Since it takes a couple of months for the iron to store up again, I am going to ask for a skin prick at her nine-month check up (around Sept 8). He'll have to send me to the lab for it and they would use the right technique. If the number isn't higher, than I'll ask for the blood draw, which will tell other important things about her blood--such as what her stores are, rather than just the hemoglobin level. If the dietary iron doesn't have an effect, then there is something more serious going on (allergy,absorption problems, blood disease, etc.)

Thank you for asking your Dad and getting back to me! I really appreciate your friendship!

Happy Diapering!

2009-08-06T17:05:00.008-04:00

The other day I gave unsolicited information about breastfed babies and stored/dietary iron issues. Another day, another issue. Just call me Momma Doc. Let's talk diaper rashes, shall we? When baby starts solids, that first stinky stool might irritate her adorable bottom. Apply Desitin as usual and wait for its widely-praised magic.

Only what if the magic doesn't happen this time--for the first time ever? And what if the rash looks different than usual--like in, bumps that are like lesions, instead of the usual red, irritated look? Call the doctor, you say?

I did that, two weeks ago. He said that yes, some diaper rashes can have bumps. Further, he suggested applying Crisco and corn starch, as well as letting baby go without a diaper--when it's convenient.

Yes, I agree. What useful advice. Who would have thunk it? Crisco, and letting baby poop and pee all over the carpet--so that she can ultimately put her hands in it and eat it. And of course spread it around everywhere. Brilliant advice! I should have gone to medical school! Surely I can come up with advice like that--if of course I tried really hard.

After getting off the phone with my beloved Doc (seriously, he IS nice), I told Don I had to make a Walmart run for a truckload of Desitin and larger, more absorbent diapers for Anna.

About $35 dollars and two weeks later, the rash is STILL there. Early on, I even tried an anti-yeast cream for a couple diaper changes. Didn't seem to change anything.

I admitted defeat today, after changing Anna about every 75 minutes (every five hours at night) for two weeks--including rinsing her in the sink instead of using wipes. This has been a stressful process, to say the least. There were times I felt if I had to change ONE more diaper, and fight with my baby to keep the truckload of Desitin off of her clothes, my clothes, and the surrounding area one more time, I was going to become seriously unglued--as in major primal-screaming, hissy-fit unglued. Oh. Yeah. I actually DID that once, didn't I?

The doctor said to bring her in if it didn't clear in four days. I was stubborn and busy and waited too long, obviously.

The bottom line (get it? bottom) is that she has a yeast infection. Her skin was irritated by the new type of stool, and then yeast invaded the irritated skin.

My rash advice:

- If the rash doesn't bother baby, it's probably yeast.

- If Desitin doesn't do its usual magic, it's probably yeast.

- Use only one type of diaper wipe--avoid changing brands, as that irritates skin.

- Don't admit to the doctor that you laughed behind his back and wrote a sarcastic blog post about his advice.

- Don't admit to the doctor that you just bought stock in the Desitin company.

- When told to bring in baby if the rash doesn't clear in four days, LISTEN--it's probably yeast, and you need a prescription!

Happy diapering!

a life motto

2009-08-04T22:42:00.004-04:00

I don't have the spare minutes, or even the right words, to describe how hard things are right now. I'm wrestling with God in a big, stubborn way. Why? Why? Why? This is SO hard God! It has gone on SO many months! Can we just go one whole year without a crisis? How 'bout half a year then? I. need. rest.

Then I read this post and I was humbly reminded that life is hard for everyone. And besides that, no one has been diagnosed with cancer around here. My husband and I keep telling one another that.

However, the newest worry is that Anna Grace is mildly to moderately anemic (but no symptoms), which is unusual for a 7-month-old exclusively-breastfed baby. Believe me, I've researched this the past two days. She has started on rice cereal and Poly Vi Sol w/iron vitamin drops.

The hemoglobin test done (at the WIC office) was a toe prick, which isn't as accurate as a CBC blood test (from the vein). If the person administering the test squeezes the toe, more plasma comes through, which would give a lower, potentially-inaccurate hemoglobin number. My doctor doesn't see a need to do anything further until Anna gets a vein blood test at 12 months.

I, on the other hand, want to do at least another toe prick test in one month to see if the number has risen. If it hasn't, something could be going on--like leukemia (worst-case scenario), or intestinal bleeding from allergy (unlikely for breastfed infant). Why wait until December for further answers? I'm thinking of changing doctors over this. My pediatrician is young, with fewer experiences under his belt. Yes, I'm an excessive worrier--especially when it comes to my children's health.

BTW, my iron level is fine, but even if it wasn't, Anna would still get easily-absorbed iron from my breastmilk. Dietary supplementation is often necessary after seven months, but for anemia to have already started is very unusual. Her birth weight--two ounces above the official low-birth-weight cut off--is one explanation, but usually only premature or VERY small babies deplete iron stores before six months.

Her levels are not bad enough to cause brain damage or anything, thank God. She tested at 8.9 (under 10.5 is considered anemic). I read on several sites that 12 is average, 11 is the minimum desired, and below 10.5 is anemia.

Today my doctor said 10 is considered normal. That conflict in information bothers me. Nothing in my three hours of research--including standard tables of levels--supported a level of 10 as being normal.

Anyhow, back to my first paragraph about things being hard; the only life motto that makes any sense at all is this:

Sit down! Shut up! Look up! Enjoy the ride!

On a lighter note, we picked blueberries today, and I'm checking u-pick farms for red raspberry picking dates. Infuse life with the simple things--that's how to enjoy the ride.

Berries always make me smile.

farther-reaching

2009-08-01T22:42:00.003-04:00

Anna Grace slept a little longer this morning. Sleeping alongside me, she woke at 5:20 a.m. I nursed her, hoping she would drift off again, as in days of old. But no. Instead, she used my head to pull up on. Getting the message, I put her in her crib, thinking she would try some cruising steps. But guess what? She laid down and fell asleep! My heart sang! I laid my exhausted head down and actually SMILED myself to sleep.

She woke again at 6:45 a.m., after which I nursed her again, hoping for the same magic. But no, she wanted to play. 6:45 is respectable for a baby, so we went out to the living room.

Come naptime, it was more of the same hyperactive business--pulling up in the crib, cruising--anything but lying down. I gave it twenty minutes, then held her down gently in my bed, waiting for her will to weaken. Lying next to me, in the spoon position I forced her into, she finally relaxed and drifted off. I watched the clock, thinking after twenty minutes I would try transferring her to her crib. The house, as you can imagine after three days of fighting Anna for naps, was beyond disheveled. The list of has-to-be-dones was long.

But instead of attending to the list, I allowed myself to be charmed by her smell, her oh-so-soft skin, her even breathing. I came to my senses, and counted myself blessed to have such a babe in my arms for an hour, while Daddy read his computer textbook outside, and the other children enjoyed water play.

The house is still disheveled, but God answered yesterday's prayer. Today I made the most of my time with these precious children. Even if I had successfully transferred Anna to her crib and used the time to tidy up a bit, the tidiness wouldn't have lasted till evening.

But the memory of my sweet sleeping babe--my last babe--spooned against me on a pleasant summer day? THAT is a keeper. The prayers uttered about her future, spoken in my mind whilst she lay in my protective arms, will impact her far more than a slightly tidier house ever will.

Lord, help me utilize more of these farther-reaching parenting opportunities. And.....a house fairy would be nice too. Just sayin'.

gym time, and empty nests

2009-07-31T22:12:00.003-04:00

Anna is consumed by her new pulling-up skills, and by her even-newer cruising skills. She deems them SO worthy of her time, in fact, that she's decided sleep is vastly overrated.

Anna Grace: "I haven't got time for SLEEP anymore, Mommy. I don't exactly know when the Infant Olympics start, but by golly, I want to be ready. You won't stand in my way now--will you, Mommy? You go ahead and sleep, Mommy, if you can, while I rise at 5:00 a.m. and happily squeal my way through a good ninety minutes of gym time. Don't you and Daddy pay me any mind. I can manage this on my own. I'll give you a holler when morning gym time is over."

Mommy: "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

That's me, primal screaming after three days of 5:00 a.m. risings, and naps that don't occur unless I hold a crying, frustrated, overtired, 7.5-month-old gym fanatic down long enough for her to realize she is exhausted. Then, because she is SO exhausted, I am forced to hold her for her entire nap, without moving a muscle, because otherwise her jumpy, overtired body wakes up over the slightest sound or movement.

A month ago we achieved a very good nap routine that was working for me, finally. I would nurse her, kiss her, put her in her crib, and within ten minutes, she was out.

Yes, I know. This too shall pass. Trouble is, every time something passes, some other trying thing is right on its heels. Constant. That's what life is like when your hyper-active children outnumber your couch-potato children. My ratio is three to one. This life is blessed, charmed, yes. But constant most of all.

Around dinnertime my nerves were so shot, and my ADHD son so intent on doing me in, that I looked at my poor husband and said, "I'm leaving now. Trust me, it's necessary."

At first, I got in the van by myself. Anna was asleep--finally. Don would only have the three of them. Then I thought better of this, and went back in and grabbed Emily Rose, who is as hyper as can be and could make Daddy crazy without help. I figured I could handle her in her carseat, even in my agitated, overly-fatigued state. Thank God for carseats!

The two of us got McDonald's chocolate chip cookies to calm our (my) nerves, and then we drove all around the farmlands surrounding our housing track.

On our sanity-saving trip we saw a beautiful doe, about 20 grazing horses, a blue heron, two lakes, acres and acres of corn and alfalfa, and many beautiful, well-tended flower gardens--all within a thirty-minute time frame. It was just what I needed. Scenes of nature speak such volumes to me. They remind me that God has a plan--that nothing is accidental. There is order, beauty, perfection--so unlike my parenting, or my home, where new problems keep throwing my efforts--and my nerves--asunder.

I don't quite know why God blessed a nervous-leaning mother with so many hyper-active children. Makes more sense for a very relaxed mother to have such a brood--doesn't it?

It's not misbehavior I'm talking about, exactly. It's high-volume exuberance. A penchant for movement, rather than tabletop activities, or quiet-like pursuits. A penchant for speed, rather than leisure. A penchant for over-excitability, rather than for calm.

I can only trust that He knows what I need--what my children need. It need not make sense to me.

My husband is not perfect, but for all intents and purposes, to me, he's a saint. Just the saint I need. Is he out of full-time work because God knew I needed help with these full-of-life children, in this season? We are basically on our own here. There's no reliable "village" on which to lean. My father and my aunts have their own problems--their own pursuits.

It is what it is. And my personality is what it is. I didn't choose nervousness--it was chosen for me. I am fearfully and wonderfully made, as are my exuberant children.

God, help me learn to celebrate exuberance--rather than run from it. Twenty years from now, I'll be 63 years old, and I'll long for the noise and chaos of my "youth". I know this; I can see the very day, in my mind's eye. The first day of my empty nest. My Anna will be 20 years old.

Don't let me look back with regret, Lord, for what I DIDN'T do, to make the most of every day with these precious children. Take the reins back from ME--the stubborn one--when I so foolishly grab them. Order our days, our hours. And bless us with your Mercy and your Grace, Lord, as always.

Amen.

Horrific Psychosis Case

2009-07-30T12:30:00.014-04:00

I'm pretty convinced that my waves of depression--which have lessened--are merely the result of Anna's erratic nighttime nursing patterns, rather than post-partum depression or perimenopause. How soon a woman's menstrual cycle will resume depends, in part, on the nighttime nursing pattern. If there are nursings between midnight and 5:00 a.m., the cycle is delayed longer. Anna often nurses a few times during these hours, but one or two times she has skipped these feedings. That confused my body, which probably started a hormone shift to bring on my cycle. Now she's sleeping horribly, and nursing very frequently, so my hormones have shifted again--delaying my cycle longer, which is fine with me. Of all my children, her nighttime nursing is the most erratic. I'm still watching the moods closely, but as I said, I'm pretty convinced there's no real problem.

One of the Christian homeschooling moms I met at the park suffered post-partum depression with all five of her children. She now has a 3-month-old baby and this time she started taking the meds a week before she went into labor. I'm happy to report that she is doing well.

With the first two pregnancies she had trouble really being heard and taken seriously by her doctor. He told her that she would be fine and that it was important to continue breastfeeding her baby, and that going on depression medication would prevent her from doing that. Tragically, she became suicidal and went to another doctor after having her second child. He told her (rightly so) that the breastfeeding was not important in her case, as her depression absolutely needed to be treated. He allowed her to let go of her guilt and get the care she desperately needed.

It angered me to hear that her first doctor dismissed her symptoms and put guilt on her about the breastfeeding. And now that this horrific post-partum psychosis case is in the news, I find myself angry and frustrated that this poor women was not better cared for. She tried to let the people around her know that she was in trouble, but no one took her seriously enough. A week before the killing she left her boyfriend to live with her sister and parents--telling him that she was schizophrenic, which was consistent with her mental history. She was not taking her medication, which I suspect was due to her being a nursing mother.

Hours before the killing she told her sister that she was hearing voices. She was hysterical and kept giving her sister the baby. When the mother calmed down, the sister gave her back the 10-week-old baby, and then apparently went to bed. I hate to say it, but that sounds selfish to me--or completely ignorant. The sister didn't want to stay up all night with a new infant perhaps? She wanted her troublesome sister to deal with her own problems? I don't know and certainly shouldn't judge, but I feel this very ill mother tried to ask for help. The killing occurred early in the morning and resulted from her being alone with the baby. Exhaustion surely made her symptoms worse, with the middle-of-the-night exhaustion probably being especially draining.

I feel horrible for the baby and the mother, for the woman's family, and for all the law enforcement and medical staff who had contact with this woman in the weeks before this killing. They probably all wish they had done more--known more. All were apparently ignorant either of this woman's mental history, OR of the fact that mentally-ill women have a 50% higher chance of developing post-partum psychosis, which involves feelings of wanting to harm one's baby.

The boyfriend says this woman should get the death penalty for killing his son. He says she seemed like a loving mother--holding and breastfeeding and doing nice things for the baby. According to him the mother was treated for post-partum depression in a hospital setting a few weeks before, but she seemed fine to him. I feel angry at him for vilifying this mother, who so obviously was not fine at all--in the same way that Andrea Yates was not fine.

My husband and I argued about this case, as we did the Andrea Yates case. He doesn't understand why I feel these women are not guilty by reason of insanity. Understandably, he thinks such horrific crimes should be punished. Being a woman and knowing how powerful hormones are, I think I can see this differently--in a way I don't think a man could ever understand. For my part I think society needs to be better educated about the risks of mentally-ill women having children. If they choose to start families they should never be alone with their babies the first year or two--especially if even mild depression has set in. Additionally, someone needs to ensure that they take their medication, even if that means no breastfeeding.

I noticed that my pediatrician asked how I was feeling in the days after Anna's birth. I read that this is something new that pediatricians are trained to do. Doctors need to do more than ask though--the questions need to be specific about the woman's mental history, and the signs and symptoms of post-partum depression and psychosis need to be reviewed.

What is your take on this issue? Do you think these women should be held criminally accountable?

Just the thing

2009-07-28T14:57:00.004-04:00

Something really good happened yesterday. And it was NOT Don's dentist appointment. No, not that dreaded event. Due to a bicycle fall, his front top teeth were crowned when he was a teen and the crowns finally wore out. He lost one of his front teeth last week--necessitating a $1300 partial procedure, for which we've had to obtain a loan. Doing so--especially now--made us both sick to our stomachs. However, job hunting without one's front teeth didn't seem like a viable option. Thank God our credit was good enough to qualify; I guess that's a blessing? Hard to find the blessing in this, really.

And the good thing was NOT the boys' decision to let their fireflies go the other night--all over their bedroom. No, it wasn't that ill-conceived event. Daddy and Daniel are STILL trying to catch the twenty or so fireflies that have taken over our home.

Now for that really good thing. Emily, the boys, and I went on a homeschooling park playdate. The playground equipment was new and simply awesome, so the kids stayed engaged and I was able to connect with some very nice mothers. They are all relatively new to Ohio. Having a baby and being a slave to naps has kept me isolated these seven months. I really needed these connections. We will meet again in two weeks--a. really. good. thing.

Thanks Lord, for knowing what I need, and for providing it in so timely a way. Can I just say:

My God is an awesome God!
He reigns from Heaven above,
With wisdom, power and love,
My God is an awesome God!

Pray for Baby

2009-07-27T16:11:00.002-04:00

Baby Stellan, from the "my charming kids" blog, is in dire need of prayer. His heart is giving out.

Anna Banana's Antics

2009-07-27T14:56:00.005-04:00

Anna Grace is sometimes affectionately called "Anna Banana". As I write Anna Banana is pulling up in her crib, and has now rested her chin on top of the rail. Her big, toothless smile says, "I'm just SO proud of myself! Look how long I can stand! Can you even BELIEVE it!"

She started pulling up in her crib about ten days ago. It was touch and go the first two days, with her frequently getting herself into trouble. We would hear her wailing on the baby monitor, when she was supposed to be napping. It was a distinctive wail, with definite, get-in-here-quick desperation. She had pulled up, but panicked because she couldn't get down. Or she was up, but her feet were too far away from the side, creating a leaning-forward angle that crushed her sweet little nose into the rail.

Today in the living room she pulled up using a laundry basket that was strategically placed to block her way out of the living room. She ended up head first in the basket with her legs up in the air, while trying to reach for a sock. She loves socks!. LOL Daniel laughed as he shouted, "Hurry! Anna fell in the basket!" Again, Anna's desperate cries were enough to let me know I'd better run--not walk--to her rescue.

And earlier today, she was getting a bit fussy while Daniel was reading me this oh-so-fascinating book about bugs--assassin bugs, and other interesting types. (We're still doing school.) It was quite fun if you're seven and you regularly hyperfocus on insects. For mom, though? Not so fun. Hearing about the insides of insects turning to soup as a result of a poisonous bite--to be sucked out by the assailant--IS my idea of fascinating, but NOT my idea of fun. But hey, I can pretend to love just about any book--as long as it fosters a child's love for reading. Whatever strikes his literary fancy!

While he read, I gave Anna a magazine that was still wrapped in the rain-protecting plastic cover. She thought that a fascinating toy, and spent fifteen minutes playing with it--allowing Daniel to finish his book. Successfully, she pulled a small strip of plastic off of it and then played with that for another five minutes. She rubbed it across her face, and was fascinated that it tickled her. She then rubbed it on her arm, and got the same affect. Discovering also that it could be pulled and stretched, she was mesmerized. When you're 7.5 months, nearly EVERYTHING is a toy--as long as Momma is close by to supervise.

I love watching their minds work! Now THAT'S fascinating!

2009-07-26T16:44:00.002-04:00

My Dear Emily Rose,

Today you did the sweetest thing. If there were a meter measuring my love for you moment by moment, it would have shot through the roof at this. You were on the floor with the baby and Mommy, playing. Anna Grace started fussing, so you went over to her, tried to get her on your lap, and proceeded to lift up your dress and "nurse her". You smiled up at me, as though to say, "It's okay, Mommy. I'm taking care of her."

Then, a little later, when Mommy was on the couch nursing Anna, Anna kept getting on and off the breast repeatedly. She was interested in the swaying trees outside the window; it was a windy day. You wanted to help Mommy so you kept turning Anna's head back to the breast. Surprisingly, she didn't seem to mind the interference.

Two-year-olds don't come more active than you, My Love! And they also don't come any sweeter.

All My Love,
Mommy

An Exchange

2009-07-26T11:45:00.005-04:00

You know your math-loving five-year-old is under the influence of the Holy Spirit when you have this exchange:

Mommy: "Timmy, we're going to a church event. Time to get changed."

Timothy: "What time do we have to be there?"

Mommy: "Four o'clock."

Timothy: "But we can't!" That's what time Cyberchase is on!"

Timothy: Ten seconds later - "Oh, but Jesus is more important than the TV. I know that."

We make parenting mistakes frequently--especially in the area of saying too much around the kids about our stressers. Learning to control the tongue is the hardest thing most of us have to deal with, at least in the area of self-control. It's so nice to be reminded that God's grace is always there--making the best of our imperfect parenting efforts.

I guess these guys will turn out fine after all.

hello again

2009-07-23T17:08:00.003-04:00

Been busy lately. Started a couple blog posts, but could never finish them. Still fighting some depression. Not really understanding what is happening with that. Without insurance, I don't dare go to the OB-GYN to find some answers. There is more depression and anxiety than mood swings, so perimenopause can't be the whole story.

I'll get around to a real post as soon as I can.

When You're Two

2009-07-18T07:16:00.005-04:00

Friends, I am going insane trying to figure out my two-year-old these days! Last night I went to bed at 11:30 p.m. I promptly fell asleep nursing Anna. Don was at work, and the other three children were asleep in their beds. Or so I thought.

Around 12:45 a.m., Emily Rose wakes me while crawling into my bed. Doesn't say a word--just climbs in and starts fiddling with her security blanket. She was looking for the blanket's satin tag, which she likes to stroke to help her fall asleep.

I decided it was best to say nothing for the time being, so that I could get the baby into her crib without Emily waking her.

Don arrived home soon after this, and he carried Emily back to bed. I then put the baby into her crib and went in to see what was up with Emily. She hadn't previously been a night waker...or at least when she had a crib, we saw no evidence that she was waking to this extent at night. I hadn't locked her door before I went to bed; I planned to be up before her the next morning. Little did I know that her house wandering would include middle-of-the-night escapades.

Don and I discovered--after giving her a lecture and tucking her in--that she had been to the playroom, and had gotten herself a sucker, which she had taken a couple of licks from and then left on the queen bed in her room...sticking to the comforter.

While in the kitchen, she'd tried to put a straw into a juice box, but failed...spilled juice was a clue. Part of me wanted to smile, as I looked at the evidence of her grown-up escapade. I walked all around the house, wandering what surprises I would find. Nothing else looked suspect..this time. Too bad she hadn't thought to put in a load of laundry for me. LOL

I still don't like the thought of locking her door. What if she might have to vomit in the middle of the night (no, she isn't sick, but these things often come on at night), or have some other need for which she would want me? It just seems so risky to lock a child in a room while Mommy and Daddy sleep. We have air filters running in all the bedrooms, so the house isn't silent. The filters drown out some noise, making it hard to hear subtle sounds. But the filters sure help when there is a family history of hay fever, indoor allergy, and eczema.

I've learned that when young children wake in the middle of the night, they often assume it's morning--hence, the getting up and walking around. What's strange to me is that this very independent young lady is the same young lady who has developed a second-stage fear of the church nursery. She wants her Momma. She doesn't want to be left behind when I go to the store, or to the bank, or anywhere--unless there is outdoor water play on the agenda and Daddy is willing to supervise. Otherwise, she likes Momma around. And when I come home from these short errands, she runs into my arms, all smiles, and says, "Mommy! Mommy's home!" Her face displays sheer joy! Oh, how it melts every inch of me!

Is this how growing up is? They have powerful urges to sample a bit of the big leagues, and then they want to run back to Momma's arms?

There's a LOT going on in that little girl's head right now. I'm recording it all here for her benefit. Maybe she'll have a little girl someday who is just like her. My heart wants to cheer her ingenuity--her independence, but my head wants to do everything possible to keep her safe. I just don't think that includes a locked door.

Photos

2009-07-17T15:30:00.003-04:00

Anna didn't sleep through the night last night. But I did exercise self-discipline and go to bed around 11:30 p.m. I awoke with Anna at 7:15 and went to the living room to enjoy her before anyone else woke up.

The boys, very tired from VBS, slept until 8:00. Are they getting to an age where they can finally sleep in? Just maybe.

Emily awoke at 7:30 so I was again up before her, averting any safety problems. She loves the outdoors so much I fear she'll use her dresser to climb out the window in the morning. So far, God is keeping her safe by waking me first. He seems to have this figured out.

After our tenth anniversary lunch date we went to a family birthday party. I asked my aunt to take this photo of us to mark this special day. Anna is wiggling out of my arms as usual. What a blessing to have those memories of rocking my colicky baby for five months. She sure doesn't want to be held much now. Thank the Lord for colic! My honey is much better looking than shown--bad picture.

Timothy at the church picnic.

Daniel and Timothy at cousin Elena's (she's in center with the curls) 10th birthday party. She is my second cousin.

Anna made a friend at the church picnic.

Emily Rose and cousin Danny. Danny is my cousin's daughter's son. Does that make him Emily's third cousin? Not sure how that works. She looks as though she's feeling so in love! LOL

Daniel took this and wanted me to include it. See Anna's tired face? Her second nap is two hours late in the photo. I stay at home most of the time so that she can enjoy good naps, but one has to remind a baby occasionally that there's life outside their house and yard. She slept on a bed at their house for all of twenty minutes. She's picky like the pea-in-the-mattress fairy tale princess.

My little genius!

Record your answers!

2009-07-16T10:00:00.005-04:00

Something rather miraculous happened last night! And the whole thing made me realize that I need to start recording answers to prayer. Seeing the answers down on paper to reflect on would be so encouraging! I'm willing to bet that many more prayers than I realize DO get "yes" answers.

I have NOT prayed about Anna Grace sleeping through the night. While most formula babies and babies who have cried it out do sleep through the night by six months, it is unusual for a nursing baby to do so. A low percentage of American babies are still nursing after six months, and consequently, any statistic about sleeping through the night the first year is skewed and not really applicable to nursing families. The possibility that Anna might do this just didn't occur to me.

Now, when Emily Rose began to wander the house in the mornings a few days ago, I did lament and whine to my God.

Pam: "Why, oh why can't SOMETHING be easy!!?? How in the world am I going to keep these children safe?? There are so many variables to safety when you have four young children, God! Anna is now sitting, meaning that she sometimes falls into pieces of furniture, which makes her rather mad, and hurt! More than ever, I have to watch her every move. I can't remove the furniture--that's for sure, God. Between the four of them, I'm going out of my mind regarding safety!"

Only after this stellar whining performance did I humble myself to pray about the issue. Unwise order of priorities, I know.

This morning, I awoke to Anna's cries from her crib at 5:37 a.m. I went to get her (crib is in our room), and was confused about why she was in her crib. Then I looked at the clock, and realized that I had put her in the crib at 8:00 p.m. the night before. And then I forced myself to go to bed at 11:30, knowing that I HAD to start doing something about my lack of sleep. Well, as I picked her up, I realized that she had never woken up and nursed in bed with me--the whole night! She actually slept from 8:00 p.m. to 5:37 a.m., and I never heard a peep--even with Don getting back from work and slipping into bed after 3:00 a.m.! He was real pleased (NOT) when in my excitement, I woke him up and said, "Honey, Anna slept through the night!" He opened his eyes briefly to say that the night wasn't over yet.

Now the part about the prayer. Anna felt well rested and would not go back to sleep, even after she nursed and filled her tummy. At 6:20 I took her out to the living room, which means I was up for the day and fully awake when Emily Rose woke up!! God was answering my prayer about keeping Emily safe in the morning, by having Anna sleep through the night! I slept six hours straight, which hasn't occurred in a very long time. (Three hours straight is a good night.) I feel great today, and it was nice to be so alert and happy while I cared for my children this morning.

She may not sleep through the night again for a long time. But today, God encouraged me. He IS listening! And I SHOULD record his answers to my prayers. Currently I'm reading a book about spiritual reformation and it TOO has encouraged me to record not only prayer requests, but also the ANSWERS. Very elementary concept, leading to very powerful results.

Hey Liz, thank you for your comments. I actually do have a stellar diet (high in fiber, low in fat)and looking like the food pyramid. Any health problems for me stem from lack of sleep. Since I am a night person living in an early-morning culture, I've never gotten adequate sleep. It is a matter of self-discipline, and now I MUST do something about it. I will check out the websites you gave, and get the Primrose Oil. I probably won't use any hormone replacement, as my mom had breast cancer (minor lump in early stage) in her mid-sixties, partly from being given hormones when she started perimenopause at 45 years old.

Never dull around here!

2009-07-15T07:54:00.002-04:00

As of late, Emily Rose had been getting out of bed around 6:30 a.m. or 7:00 a.m. and coming directly into our bedroom for quiet morning cuddles. A beautiful thing. That changed two mornings ago. You remember the face cream she was after...and the cheesestick? Well, we planned to lock her door the next night, to avoid another potentially dangerous situation the following morning. Safety gates are useless; she gets over them or pushes them down quite easily.

But perimenopause puts one into foggy brain, just as pregnancy does. So I forgot to lock the door, and besides, I wasn't really comfortable with that solution because how would she get out in case of a fire? And setting our alarm for fifteen minutes before we expected her up wasn't feasible either; we can't get to bed before midnight (chores you know), and after midnight our sleep is interrupted often by Anna. Every minute of sleep counts.

But the fact that she got into the fish oil capsules yesterday morning really drove it home that this could be a matter of life and death. Luckily, they apparently taste horrible--when chewed! Yes, the evidence I found was that she chewed it up, and then must have swallowed the oil, and afterwards put the shell into a paper towel. Nice and neat, see? She could have left the shell sticking to the furniture. I hounded her for fifteen minutes about how many she had sampled, and finally came to the conclusion that it was only one. Stressful way to start the day, don't you think? Never a dull moment, I tell you. And yes, I have now cleared all surfaces of anything remotely dangerous. I'm a slow learner.

So yesterday, I bought the safety doorknob attachment...you know, the thing that is supposed to prevent children from turning door knobs? Well, suffice it to say that the score is now Emily = 2, Parents = 0. Yeah, she's a problem solver, gosh darnit. Problem solving is a wonderful thing when math and science come along in the schooling years....but at two? It's dangerous!

Anna Grace takes after big sister. We don't have any sound/music systems in our house. We could never afford anything except for a boom box. So yesterday I set it up in the living room so I could listen to our Christian station while I sorted and folded socks. The cord was well above Anna's crawling or reaching height...or so I thought. I left the room briefly to distribute socks into bedrooms. When I returned, there was no music playing, and the cord was in Anna's mouth. How she solved the problem of the cord being well above her head and reach, I'll never know. The only reasonable solution is that she pulled up onto a box in the area and had just enough arm strength to get to the cord and fall back down. That girl is not only a problem solver, but a very, very strong girl! She amazes me. Yesterday she mastered not only sitting up tall with a straight back, but also getting into this position from the floor. At seven and a quarter months Anna, you are quite the athletic type!

The newest thing you are working on is standing up. You use your arm strength to get yourself into a touch-your-toes standing-stretch position. I can tell you want to straighten up from there and stand, but you don't yet have the balance or stomach muscles to make it happen. But you try numerous times a day.

In other news, Daddy forgot Emily Rose last night at the church nursery. He was helping in Vacation Bible School and went to the boys' classroom to pick them up and then proceeded to drive home without Emily. This happened after he had just gone in there to check on her before getting the boys. She has been crying again in the nursery, for the last three weeks, after having stopped it about three months ago. We are baffled and stressed about it.

Last Sunday she had a rash on her upper chest, due to irritation from sunscreen. She has the most sensitive skin and almost always has some dermatitis--even though we are careful about not using anything scented and we always buy sensitive-skin products. Anyhow, she was crying on the church worker's lap and got overheated. This fact, along with the rash, made the worker think Emily was sick. She isolated Emily from the rest of the kids and had someone go and get Don from the sanctuary. He was baffled and felt her forehead, which the worker said was "burning up". It wasn't by this time, and Don told the worker that Emily definitely wasn't sick. He didn't mention her nearly constant eczema, as I would have done. The worker then agreed that she didn't seem hot. She asked Emily if she wanted to stay, and of course Emily said no. Don brought her home to me, since I stayed home with the baby that morning, and then he drove back to church. Emily is so active she would never stay put in the sanctuary.

Don took her to the nursery last night while he helped with VBS, so that Emily could "get back in the saddle" and try to get over her fear of the nursery. There is a very kind elderly blind gentleman who works the nursery with his wife during special events like Awana and VBS. Emily loves him, and spent time in his lap hugging him. That helped her fears and crying tremendously, thank the Lord. He isn't in there on Sundays, unfortunately.

Anyhow, back to Emily being forgotten. Daddy came to the door with the boys and I didn't see Emily in her carseat in the van. I said, "WHERE'S EMILY?!!" Don gave me a mildly alarmed look, and just said, "I'll go back and get her!" It's an eight-minute drive, and I was hoping no one was too inconvenienced by the shocking fact that, yes, we forgot our beloved daughter!

Meanwhile, I gave the boys a quick snack and hustled them into their pajamas and supervised the washing up and toothbrushing. They had returned home around 8:50 p.m., and it was now pushing 9:15. Did I mention I hate VBS with as much passion as my children love it? Yes, children get saved by the millions across the country due to VBS. That's a fabulous thing. But by Tuesday night, my children are so excited that they just can't fall asleep...until about 10:00 - 10:30!...leaving us to deal with the behavior issues that ultimately result. Grueling!

Last year we settled on an every other night schedule for VBS, knowing they would miss some fun. This year, Timothy is 5.5 years old, so we thought he could handle it better. But no, he was so excited he didn't fall asleep until 10:15 p.m. last night. Most churches now do it at night, due to all the dual-career families. That irritates me, but I know it's just one hellish week among many other normal weeks. Not really a big deal, and I'm ashamed for being so irritated.

After all, Timothy accepted the Lord during Monday night's VBS, so what in the world am I complaining about? He previously did have a relationship with the Lord, but he's never raised his hand before to a formal altar call. That public acknowledgement is important, and helps prep them for baptism and sharing their testimony when they feel brave enough. Daniel has been a Christian for quite awhile, but still doesn't feel like he's ready for the dunking. We told him he could wait until he feels ready, but that the Lord is always very pleased when we get baptized.

Anyhow, back again to the fact that our beloved daughter was forgotten about.

Daniel: "How COULD Daddy forget Emily? How could he do that!"

Mom: "I don't know." (Then I tried to change the subject.) "Did you have ever so much fun tonight?"

Daniel: "Emily must be crying her eyes out! I can't believe Daddy did that!"

Mom: "Well, didn't you and Timothy forget her as well? You didn't say anything to Daddy on the way home, did you?"

Daniel: "But I'm not the adult! Adults should NEVER forget their kids!"

And there you have it, Blogworld! Daniel is ready to fire us. And he's not even a teenager yet. God help us!

BTW: Emily was not the least traumatized by being forgotten. She seemed pretty unaware, actually.