Ahhhhhhh!

"I wunna wash my face, Mommy. I wunna wash my face," said Lucy. What kind of mom is going to argue with that? "No you can't wash your face, my child."

"Ok, Lucy. Go wash your face." She left the room, and it kept her occupied. But at some point I thought she was being too quiet. I peeked into the bathroom and there she was dipping toilet paper into the toilet and then rubbing the water all over her face! "Ahhhhhhhhh!" I yelled. I'm not a germ freak, but I really don't like toilets. Especially when toilets come into contact with mouths. I threw her in the bathtub. That's the only way I knew how to decontaminate her face. Graham wanted to hop in with her.

A few minutes later, "Ahhhhhh!" I yelled. Of course they would try making the bathtub a wave pool. That's what all kids do. Just turn the bathtub into a water park? For some reason my kids think the slope in the tub is a water slide  Not cool. So not cool. The bathroom floor was sopping wet. This is what kids do on that nanny TV show, right? I mean, I don't even know the name of the show because there's no need to watch it because my kids aren't that bad, right? Real kids...my kids don't do that, right? What was I to do?

"Get out and go to your rooms!" I quickly dried them off and sent them to their rooms. I was in the middle of an important phone call, and that seemed like the easiest fix. They were out of control, but I could control them once I sent them to their rooms. Logical? Of course so!

"Ahhhhhhh!" While I'm wrapping up my conversation, I see little naked bottoms running from one room to the other jumping on the beds. Yes, it was one of those days. One of those days that doesn't seem very real and yet so real at the same time. One of those days when you think, "How am I ever going to take care of 3 kids?"  But somehow, someway God just gives you the grace to get through it even though you might be an eligible contestant for a parenting show. We all have moments like this. Hmm...at least I think we do.

My Little Super Hero

"Why does Batman wear a cape?" I could tell from the start that this conversation was getting serious. I didn't let the topic of Batman fool me. I was talking to my son which is a lot like talking to myself. There is no simple answer. "Ummm. Because it's part of his costume," I replied. "You mean Batman is pretend?" I stammered and thought and stammered and thought some more. "But he's a SUPER HERO!" Graham exclaimed.

I found myself in a discussion with my 3 year old that I wasn't sure how to handle. I mean, of course I didn't want to lie to him. But I also saw him looking at me with eyes that seemed to say, "Mom, please, please, please, don't tell me Batman isn't real. I just don't think my heart can take it." So I didn't lie, and I didn't tell him the truth either. I avoided the truth which might be the same as lying. I started to tell him about Batman being pretend, and then I ended with the "it's complicated" statement that I use when I just don't think either of us are ready for a conversation. Because Batman is a complicated conversation...trust me.

Needless to say, super heroes have been on the brain. In the mornings I ask him what he dreamt about. "Super heroes!" is always his reply. It's like something happened to him overnight, and he became obsessed. I know diddly squat about super heroes, but I'm falling in love with them myself. I've never seen G light up the way he does when he talks about Spider Man, Batman, Iron Man and Captain America. And if you ask him why he loves super heroes so much, he replies, "Because they SAVE people!" Why wouldn't you like someone who SAVES people?

I had the rare opportunity to spend the last few days just with G alone. We went to the movies, played in the rain, painted pottery, got ice cream, drank hot chocolate, and of course went to super hero night at Chick-fil-a. I've loved my time with him. I've never had a day alone with him since Lucy has been born, and it was so special to me. Most of the time I spent hanging out with Spider Man or Captain America, but I also got some quality time with G himself. It was priceless, and I'm thankful for every day I have with my own, personal super hero.

Gospel Whispers

And I'm finally sharing a post much of which I wrote months ago. Please forgive me. Life's been crazy.



Well there's been a lot of hard playing around here lately. Digging in rocks. Swimming in the baby pool. Playing in the sprinkler. Eating snow cones. We've summerfied our house. We even made a trip to Target to get new sidewalk chalk, bubbles, and large paper for finger painting. I guess it's my summer survival kit.

There's been lots of baseball playing. Graham loves him some sports. He wants to spend the afternoon either playing football or baseball. Thakfully, there's also been a lot of helmet wearing too. Lucy loves walking around the house and yard with Graham's Batman bicycle helmet. She just so happened to be wearing it as he wacked her head (by accident) when he was playing baseball. Disaster adverted all because of her obsession with that helmet.

There's also been a lot of fighting around here. One kid takes something away. The other kid yanks it back. Lots of screaming. Even some hitting. There's been lots of frustrations. Lucy has been dragging Graham's Humpty Dumpty around the house and saying, "My baby. My baby." To which Graham replies "Lucy, NO! That is not a baby! It's Humpty Dumpty!" Who would have thought that calling Humpty Dumpty a baby was a crime? Apparently it is. It's one of those absurd laws that our state has had for years.




And because of all the fighting, there's been lots of I'm sorrys around here and lots and lots of hugs. Now that Lucy is talking a lot more, she goes up to Graham and says, "sorry," while giving him a huge hug. And then inevitably this bear hug results in a wrestling move (because that's only natural, right?), and one of the kids gets hurt during the process of apologizing. So we go through the day stacking I'm sorrys on top of I'm sorrys because we hurt each other in the midst of our apologies. And to be completely honest, G and LP aren't the only ones having to say "I'm sorry." I get my fair share of I'm sorrys in too because of course I'm not always calm, cool, and collective during chaos or even during moments of peace.

There's been lots of sweet moments. Reading books together. Graham and Lucy playing peacefully in the backyard and laughing so hard at one another even though neither knows what is so funny. There's been some sharing. There's been some helping one another. There's been Graham trying to teach the Westminster Catechism to LP and also instructing her on how to mow the lawn. And there's been some gospel sharing. There is nothing much sweeter than hearing my husband whisper the gospel to Graham every Sunday as communion is being served. These moments put a smile on my face. These moments give me delight...delight that is deep.



So that's what's been going on around here. Nothing perfect. Nothing extraordinary. Just two kiddos trying to figure out who they are and Jeff and I trying to figure out the best way to love them, nurture them, discipline them, and teach them about Jesus. It's just real, ordinary life. But, I hope one day those gospel whispers stir up something extraordinary in the hearts of my kids.

He Did Nuffin' Wrong

Today, yes three days before Easter, it dawned on me that we haven't talked that much about Easter around our house. During Christmas it seemed like we spent a whole month talking about what Christmas really was. But not for Easter.

So, today I asked Graham what Easter was about. He first said, "it's about celebrating Easter!" So good of him to define it with the word Easter. "No...tell me what Easter is really all about." He quickly said, "about God being alive." You got it G. It's about Jesus (who is God) being alive.

We talked about Jesus dying on the cross, and then Graham said, "He didn't do nuffin' wrong. And he still had to die." Yep. He did absolutely nuffin' wrong. And he's the one who had to die. That's what makes grace so amazing, so sweet. We have a Savior that loves us so much. He came to this earth, did nuffin' wrong, died for us, and then didn't stay in that tomb. He rose from the dead and is seated at the right hand of the Father. That is what Easter is about.

I told Graham that Jesus loved us so much that he died for us. Then Graham said, "He loves you even when ya'll yell at me." Why did you have to bring up my sin...again? But, yes, my sweet Graham. He loves Daddy and I even when we yell at you. I pray that one day G really grasps what he told me today. I pray that one day he will be able to say with full understanding that he is a sinner. And normally I get so frustrated when he makes excuses with the word "but." However, one day, I pray he can proudly say, "I mess up all the time. I'm a huge sinner....but Jesus." The only excuse I don't mind hearing is, "but Jesus...but Jesus died for me. But Jesus has given me faith. But Jesus paid it all." I'm waiting for the day to hear those words come out of his heart and not just his mouth. I do things wrong all day long, but Jesus, sweet Jesus? No, he did nuffin' wrong. Not one trace of evil is in him. Praise be to God!

An Excavator?

So, Graham has been 3 for two months, but the pictures have been stuck on a camera. Graham had a fun excavator birthday party. If you had asked me what an excavator was three years ago, I would have tried to change the subject while secretly researching "what is an excavator?" on my iphone (Oh wait, I still had my 1980's phone then). But today, I can proudly point out a tractor, excavator, bulldozer, and front loader. And contrary to my former belief, they are not all the same.

You see, that's what happens when you have a boy. You learn about heavy machinery, and you too get excited when you spot one in a field. Your heart beats a little faster when you notice that it has tracks and not wheels. It's just something that happens when you have a boy. Since Graham "digs" excavators, I had to let go of my tendency to do a sweet little baby party and give him a big boy one!(To be honest it is hard to only find excavators so it was more of a construction party). Jeff's mom made the cake and let Graham decorate it with heavy machinery. Graham had a blast with that.

We also filled a kiddie pool with pea gravel so he could do a little excavating of his own. It was a fun, manly birthday for our sweet 3 year old.

Don't Judge Me

A few weeks ago, the whole family was at Target, and Jeff watched the kids as I looked at some clothes. They were doing some remodeling, so there was a huge open space that the kids took advantage of. Graham and Lucy were running around, tackling each other, and laughing hysterically. They were a little loud, but they were cute.

Finally one young woman said, "It so nice to see a family with two kids who aren't about to kill each other. They are so cute. My son looks a lot like your son, and I'm expecting my second." I replied with something like, "Oh thank, you. They're pretty fun." And then I went on my way with my head held a little higher. She thought my family was cute and sweet. Brownie points for me!

Just imagine if the very next day, I happened to be at a book store during story time. And just try to picture my one year old throwing tantrums and my 3 year old refusing to share (This is all hypothetical of course). And then imagine me saying, "Graham, if you don't share, we are going to leave." And then picture me actually following through with this threat and my 3 year old screaming hysterically as I drug him and his sister out of the store. It was embarrassing. I had never had an experience quite that intense as far as tantrums go. And of course I wondered what the other parents thought of me and both of my kids. Brownie points deducted.

So don't judge me and my family if you see us being all cute and sweet to each other. If you run into me at the grocery store and see me telling my kids about every fruit and vegetable and what letter it starts with and what country it comes from, please don't judge me. I'm not always like that. And if you see me out at a restaurant and my kids are throwing food on the floor, screaming at the top of their lungs, and you see me scolding them or maybe ignoring them...don't judge me. I'm not always like that either.

You see, sometimes I look like I'm the good mom and I'm always attentive and always teaching and always gently rebuking my kids when they mess up. And sometimes I'm the bad mom telling my kids they can have a cookie after they're good at the grocery store and then stuffing one in their mouth at the beginning of the trip just to keep them from crying. In any given day, hour, or even minute I might do something that the world thinks as good and something that the world thinks as bad. And sometimes I'm confused about what really is the good mom thing to do and what really is the bad mom thing to do. And when I feel so overwhelmed, that I might not survive the little years, I rest on Jesus and trust that through my good mom moments and through my bad mom moments, He reigns supreme. Nothing...absolutely nothing can thwart his plans for me and my kids. To think otherwise would be giving myself or someone else too much credit. If you do feel the need to judge, may I direct you to my Savior who is perfect, blameless, and abounding in steadfast love. If I'm going to be judged, I'd like to be judged in light of my Jesus on whom all my hope is fixed. My bad mom days and even my good mom days are covered by his grace and his grace alone.

To the Moon And Back

I'm not sure when I'll stop getting sentimental and nostalgic over birthdays. It hasn't happened yet. It's a sweet day for me, and I hope my kids feel its special for them too. Like a video, I play the events in my head that led up to Graham's birth. It was a rough day. But being removed from that day by three years, I can say it was a beautiful day. I remember the hard things about the weeks that led up to Graham's birth, but I also remember seeing my first child for the first time, and nothing can put a damper on that.

This year was fun because Graham was definitely aware that it was his birthday. Jeff and I blew up balloons and threw them all over Graham's room last night. I also taped streamers to his doorway. When he woke up this morning, I heard him crying for me.
"What's wrong Graham?"
"The balloons don't have strings! What happened to the strings? The ones at Chick-fil-A have strings!"

He was seriously crying over the balloons. Not exactly the response I was looking for. I guess the boy likes balloons with helium!

Then, I made him some pancakes with sprinkles and M&M's on top. He blew out the candles in his pancakes, and then ate the M&M's. That was all he had for breakfast...M&M's. We went to Bible Study, the park for lunch, and Graham's favorite restaurant for dinner. We had lots of phone calls, texts, Skype conversations, snail mail, and Jib Jab e-cards. And then I curled up with Graham on the couch and read him On The Night You Were Born. After the story, we flipped threw a photo book from his first year of life and talked about the day he entered the world.

So it was a normal day, and it was a special day all at the same time. Sometimes parents think their kids hung the moon, and for just a moment please allow me to think that too. He's a full of life, fun-loving, imaginative, tenderhearted, hot dog eating, football loving, sweet big brother and son. And I love him to the moon and back.