More Bizarreness

And the hits just keep on coming . . .

For some unfathomable reason, the kids have taken to raiding my sock drawer and prancing around fighting the forces of evil in "hand stockings." As a result, my socks can often be found in unexpected locations throughout the house (i.e., the dishwasher). Good thing it's flip-flop weather finally.

But it wasn't until our fateful trip to Wal-Mart yesterday that I finally realized just how many issues we have.

Our normal tradition is to walk into stores holding hands, quacking like ducks (Danny's brainchild). What can I say? It works. Normally, Zekers and Kari Bou ride in the blue seats attached to the cart, but yesterday, Rach & Zekers both wanted to walk, and Kari Bou decided it would be more fun to ride in the basket part of the cart. Since I only needed a couple of items, I thought what could it hurt. Ha!

We were looking for hand cookie cutters to go with a foot cookie cutter I already have, when I looked back to see Rachel, her arms full of silk flowers she'd collected a couple of aisles back. She was convinced her life just wouldn't be complete unless we purshased the whole armful of very ugly flowers. You can guess how that scenario ended: Mom extremely frazzled and oldest daughter crying hot tears of righteous indignation.

Also, I became aware of another way potty training affects our lives: Rachel informed me shortly after all this went down that she had to use the bathroom. "Just hold it until we get to the check-out, Sweetie," was my automatic response. About 15 seconds later, Zekers made a similar statement. The sudden panic and accompanying rush of adrenaline was amazing. I grabbed both Zekers and Rachel, slammed them each down into a blue seat, and flew to the restroom at the rear of the store - it's incredible how fast an out-of-shape woman can move while pushing a large cart full of squirming bodies. With Zekers, I've learned that I have, at most, 30 seconds from the time the words "I have to go potty" leave his mouth, to have him positioned in front of a potty, or I'd better have a change of clothes ready (which, unfortunately, happened to be out in the van).

From there it all went south. A sweet old man came panting up to me with a loaf of bread in his hand - Dutch Country 100% whole wheat - which just happens to be the exact kind I always buy. Turns out it was the exact loaf I had just placed into the cart with Kari Bou about 1 minute earlier. Who knows how far that poor man had to run just to return our bread to us. I looked back a few minutes later to see that our package of buns had been thouroughly mutilated and torn to pieces. Soon a container of yogurt and some cheese shared the same fate as the bread. All I can say is, I have a newfound gratitude for kind-hearted older people who always seem to notice these things and run to the rescue.

As soon as I repositioned Karis into a blue seat, where she couldn't do nearly as much damage (I thought), I turned around to see Zekers running in circles with his hands shoved WAY down into his underwear. No matter how many times I told him that was yucky, he seemed to think it great fun. The really gross part was seeing him sucking his fingers later.

Then came the straw that broke the camel's back. Zekers had brought his craft from children's church with him into the store because he and Rachel both thought it was just the coolest thing ever. I honestly have no idea what it was supposed to be - it was made of the cardboard from a toilet paper roll, covered with stickers, with several brightly-colored streamers attached to one end. Huh. Anyway, Karis proceeded to tear off the streamers and throw the rest of the (whatever it was) out of the cart. So by the time we got to the check-out, everyone was crying, myself includedd!

On the way out, the older 2 refused to hold hands, and in fact, nearly ran out in front of a moving vehicle, so I promised each of them a spanking when we got to the van. As I gave them their swats, scenes flashed through my head in vivid detail: national news coverage of the "abusive Wal-Mart mother" spanking her children right there in front of the parking lot cameras. Agh! When I got them strapped in finally, I turned around to see that our cart had rolled halfway down the parking lot - with my purse still in it.

Well, you get the picture. It took us all a while to recover from that trip. The one redeeming element of our excursion was that the Aunt Millie's outlet actually had dinner rolls, so I bought seven packages of them for around $2.00 - the really large whole wheat ones.























But as much work as having three little ones can be, they are just so darn cute, and such a riot, I can't help laughing at their antics. (The first picture on the right is of Zekers "flexing his muscles.") Just look at those little faces - could they be any more adorable?? We ended up spending a fun afternoon outside - which was exactly what we all needed. Zekers finally wore himself out and fell asleep on the floor at the end of LIFE group later in the evening. And I made 2 important decisions: 1) I'm not going to let the "little" things get me down, and 2) The next time I go to Wal-Mart, it's going to be at a time when I can leave the kids home with Danny!

Weekend to Remember

No, I'm not referring to a marriage retreat, but after this weekend, I feel like we need one! It was actually a lot like those breakfast things McDonalds came out with about a year ago: "bizarre but good."

Our noteworthy weekend began on Thursday. I bought Rachel her first pair of scissors on Wednesday, so she could practice cutting shapes. Thursday morning, while I was watching 2 little friends of Karis', I got out Rachel's crayons, markers, paper and scissors, so she would have something to keep her occupied for a while. Well, the first thing she decided to try cutting was, of course, her hair. Proudly holding out a handful of curls, she informed me that her scissors did, in fact, work. Luckily, she hacked away a section in the front, and with such curly hair, the uneven cutting job isn't all that noticable - it just looks like she has some long bangs. When I informed her, however, that it would likely not grow back out until well after her 5th birthday, instead of in 2 days, as she thought, she immediately burst into hysterical tears. I must confess, I didn't try too hard to console her. The more upset she is, I thought, the less likely we are to have a repeat performance!

Just as I finished cleaning up all the hair, I noticed Karis happily munching on a handful of yellow play doh (which I had gotten out for Zekers). I realized it wasn't the only play doh she'd ingested, as that same yellow, and lots of other pretty colors, came gushing out of her mouth, along with some breakfast cereal. Later, Rachel again burst into tears as a fight between her and Zekers resulted in one leg being torn off her "R" pillow. I helpfully suggested that now it could just be her "P" pillow, which only made her cry harder. ("But Mom, there's not even a "P" anywhere in any of my names!" True.) On his way home from work, Danny picked up a Sobe green tea for me, and I definitely felt like I'd earned it. (My favorite is Starbucks tazo green tea, but the nearest one is about 30 minutes' drive from here, so Sobe is the next best thing.)

Friday seemed much more promising. In the morning Rach & I walked to her kindergarten "screening", and I actually came away very encouraged. It turns out a lot is expected of the kids before they enter; I was given a long list of things Rachel needs to know, and tips/activities to help us work with her. The really encouraging thing was that she's already mastered the entire list, and then some (with the exception of writing her last name - I've gotten lazy these past couple of months and haven't worked with her much on that one).

One thing that struck me as rather curious: every teacher I talked with, as well as the one who addressed our little group of parents during the screening, seemed to operate on the basic assumption that kids who haven't attended pre-school don't know anything - not their alphabet, not how to write their name, not their address, not what a word in a book looks like. It kind of struck me as funny. Why on earth wouldn't a child thrive under one-on-one instruction at home, even a pre-school aged child? Anyway, I came away feeling much better about her coming school experience, and feeling good about her readiness to attend.

That evening we dropped the kids off with some friends (our turn for a date night!). Generally, we drop off all three kiddos, then pick Karis up around 8:30, while the other 2 spend the night. The next month, they do the same with their 3 kiddos. We had such a wonderful time - doing nothing! I wasn't feeling great, and Zekers had been in meltdown mode all afternoon, so we opted to just stay in town and use a gift certificate for dinner. We got coffee afterward, and went walking in the park for about an hour - so we could discuss a book I had just read and asked Danny to read before our date night. (Let the record show that I gave him his "homework" about 2 weeks in advance; he started reading at about 1:30 Friday afternoon. To his credit, he did manage to finish over half the book - enough that we could discuss it.) The material contained in this particular book holds the potential to drastically affect our lives, so I wanted to make sure we were on the same page (haha). More about this in a future post.

We finished out the evening by spending insane amounts of cash at Lowe's for our yard, picking up Karis and heading home. This is the part where you can rest easy, Marfin, because it's nearly impossible to have a "romantic" evening at home when your son goes hysterical and wants to come back home at 10 PM, which is exactly what happened. He continued the hysterical thing at 3 AM, when we finally brought him to bed with us. He woke up again at 6:15 and wasn't about to go back to sleep. Oh well . . . at least Danny & I had a fun evening together, and I completed some scrapbooking pages! Besides, it's almost impossible to be frustrated with your son when he throws himself into your arms and tearfully says, "I just wanted you, Mommy." I do believe, though, that every time Danny and I make plans, God has a good laugh. And we're learning flexibility . . . or something.

Saturday we did yard work, Rachel got stung by a bee, and after she recovered, I took her with me to a bridal shower. (I suppose I should also mention that I dragged Karis to Wal-Mart in the morning because I developed an inescapable craving for cheese danish.) After dinner, we went for a family bike ride and stopped at the park; what a perfect evening to enjoy the outdoors. We have one seat on the back of each bike, and Danny hauls Kari Bou in the trailer - great exercise! I guess I'd better start working out before the baby comes, because next summer I'll be hauling a trailer, too!

Today was a momentous day . . . Zekers not only told the children's church workers he had to go potty and went all by himself, but for the first time in over a week, he actually pooped in his potty and not in his underwear! Yay Zekers! (Hey, what's the joy in life if you can't celebrate the small things?) This afternoon Rach, Zekers and I went with a friend and her kids to see a performing act with a stunt artist/mime and her dog: Pino and Bonzer. They loved it. And Danny loved the 1 1/2 hours of quiet while we were gone; I didn't even bother asking him if he missed us! We grilled hamburgers for dinner, then Danny & the kiddos went to a small park nearby while I cleaned up the wreck that is our house. I was going to join them as soon as I finished, but ended up talking to a neighbor. Oh well.

And to top off the weekend . . . I received the most thoughtful gift - crackers and Easy Cheese! A friend had compassion on me and dropped it off just before dinner, so now I can indulge away, without actually having to admit that I went out and bought the stuff. Although it does contain real cheese, so it has to be good for me, right? I've already had WAY too much fun using the cheese to make shapes and designs on the crackers; I guess it doesn't take a whole lot to amuse me.

So that's the weekend wrap-up: and I have to say that the good moments far outweighed the bizarre ones!

What's That Smell?

The wierdest thing happened this morning . . .

OK, yesterday was the worst day yet since Zekers began using the potty. The first three days were great, but since Sunday evening it's been all downhill. Yesterday we hit rock bottom when he woke up with soaked sheets, and pooped in his underwear twice within 15 minutes. He had several more accidents in the morning, and one at LIFE group in the evening.

Anyway. I put all his dirty clothes together and by the end of the day I had enough to make a load. Even though it involved about 5 pairs of pants and underwear, it was still a pretty small load, so I combined his clothes with some of the girls' and ours and a couple of towels, and got it going right before I went to bed.

So here's the wierd thing: I went downstairs this morning to put everything in the dryer, and I couldn't believe the stench that greeted me when I opened the washing machine. No joke - it smelled awful - definitely like poop. I ran the load again while I was at Bible study this morning, with extra soap and some Oxi Clean. I checked it again when I got home - same stench, although not nearly as strong.

I know I'm not the sharpest knife in the drawer sometimes, but I didn't know what else to do, so I stuck the clothes in the dryer with about 4-5 dryer sheets, thinking the clothes had to be clean, and maybe I just needed to do something to get rid of the stench.

Well, when I went to get the clothes out of the dryer a little while ago, Zekers' clothes smelled pretty good, but Danny has a pair of pants and a shirt that now smell faintly of poop. I'm not sure how to break the news to him. Maybe if I spray them with his cologne no one will notice! Aaaagggghhhh!

The super good news is that Zekers had a dry night and, so far, has stayed dry all day. He even told the girls doing childcare that he had to go - a first for him! And the day got off to a great start with our discussion in Bible study. Praise God for good days! Now, if I can just figure out what to do about that poopy smell.

Yep . . . Only 14 Weeks

I've been scratching my head trying to figure out just how I got THIS much larger in less than one month's time. (The first pic was taken on March 16 at 10 weeks, the second on April 14 at 14 weeks. I wish I could go back in time about 5 years and smack myself around for thinking I was huge when I was this size with Rachel at six months.) Still, when Zekers looked into my eyes several days ago, and said with all the sincerity of a 3-yr-old, "Wow, Mommy, you're BIG," it did make me wonder about the reason I've exploded in the last several weeks.

Then I remembered:

- the trip Danny had to make at 10:30 PM to get me some chips and dip

- the trip Danny had to make at 10:48 PM to get me some mint chocolate chip ice cream

- the trip I had to make at 9:30 PM (when Danny refused to go a 3rd time) to get deli meat for a sandwich

- the items I've purchased that haven't been on the shopping list: green olives (which I wolfed down immediately upon arriving home), green pea soup, assorted sugar wafers, club crackers.

- the juice I've been sucking down (Rachel asked me the other day where all their juice boxes had gone . . . Oops)

- items I've had a sudden need to eat late at night: cooked spinach, hard boiled eggs, corn, more green olives, peanut butter


The one thing I've been craving for weeks, that I absolutely refuse to buy, is cheez whiz. Hey, ya gotta draw the line somewhere.

That's all I have time to write - this is making me hungry.

Thomas Underwear = Chicken Soup for my Soul

What began as a curse has morphed into the most unexpected gift . . .

Today was the first day I set foot outside the house since Sunday; I can't remember the last time we've been homebound for so long, and I do NOT do well with being forced to hang around the house 24/7. The girls got sick on Monday, Zekers caught the bug on Tuesday, and I came down with it on Thursday. Even after the worst of it had passed, none of us were in any shape to do anything but sit around, staring straight ahead with glazed eyes. I was irritated to have to miss weekly events I look forward to; I was frustrated because out of sheer necessity I ended up letting the kids watch at least twice as much TV as usual (How did those Pioneers manage without electronic media?); I had a severe case of the blahs and there was nothing I could do about it.

But here's the amazing thing:

For an entire year I have been stressing about potty training Zekers, and he's made it abundantly clear that he's not even remotely close to being ready. He didn't want to be a "big boy"; he cried every time I tried to tempt him by having him put on his cool Thomas the Train underwear; and he could care less about his friends who peed in the potty, nonchalantly informing them that he preferred doing his business in his diaper. Finally I threw up my hands in despair, and resigned myself to a future of buying diapers for him until he's able to get a job and pay for them himself. (OK, that's not the amazing thing, but just hang on - I'm getting to it!)

A couple of months ago, a good friend let me borrow an ebook she'd downloaded about a 3-day potty training method that was supposed to be fool-proof. So I read it over, thought it actually sounded pretty good, talked about it with Danny, and together we set aside this weekend, beginning on Thursday, for the intensive potty training to take place. (It had to be a weekend with NOTHING else going on, so I could focus solely on Zekers and Danny could take care of everything and everyone else for the three days.)

I can't even believe I'm writing this . . . Zekers has, pretty much all on his own, kept himself dry (with the exception of one accident) since Wednesday morning - the day before I had planned to start potty training him. I honestly have no idea how it happened - but I shouldn't be surprised; it is so in character for him to just, out of the blue, make up his mind to do something like this. We've gone cold turkey - no diapers, no pull-ups, nothing but "big boy underwear" for the past 3 days and nights!

And you know what I think? He needed those consecutive days at home, with no interruptions, to get into the habit of going potty on his own. He began at the start of the week to go in his little potty every so often and just worked his way up to no diapers in a matter of days. . . unbelievable. It was totally worth all of us getting sick! I'm so glad God is willing to mess up my agenda every once in a while - I need the intervention.

In other news: Karis has begun sleeping in a toddler bed! This happened shortly after I disciplined Rachel several times for getting Karis out of her crib, and then realized that Karis had actually been climbing out on her own. Just one of many things Rachel will end up having to forgive me for before she leaves home, I'm sure.

Opposing Quotes

I've been giving the topic below some serious thought in recent weeks, and I came upon 2 different perspectives, which I thought I'd put out there for anyone who cares to read them. The first is our natural, human reaction - I must confess, I've felt this way before; the second I found to be quite insightful and thought-provoking.


Quote #1

Think about some of the women you meet at church. They're trying to live up to some model of fimininity. What do they "teach" you about being a woman? What are they saying to us through their lives? Like we said, you'd have to conclude that a godly woman is . . . tired. And guilty. We're all living in the shadow of that infamous icon, the "Proverbs 31 Woman", whose life is so busy I wonder, when does she have time for friendships, for taking walks, or reading good books? Her light never goes out at night? When does she have sex? Somehow she has sanctified the shame most women live under, biblical proof that yet again we don't measure up. Is that supposed to be godly - that sense that you're a failure as a woman?

- from Captivating by John & Stasi Eldredge (p. 6)



Quote #2

The word “tired” comes to mind as I read this chapter. You’re familiar with the passage—on and on and on about all the things this woman does. She gets up early in the morning; she stays up late at night; she just burns the candle at both ends, and she is so busy. You can read this passage and just feel tired. If you weren’t before you read it, you are after you read it!

Another word that comes to mind is the word “overwhelmed.” How does she do it all—and with no technology in her day and age such as we have today? It’s easy to feel defeated or to feel like a failure. It’s easy to look at this standard—this picture of a woman of virtue—and feel, “This is impossible!” Then the next thought is, “I guess I’d just better give up. I can never be this kind of woman” . . . So we have feelings of comparison, feelings of guilt. . .

Now, I want to make two statements that I’m going to repeat probably many times throughout this series because I want this to get into the fiber of your thinking. Here are the two statements. First of all, no woman can be like the woman that we read about in Proverbs 31. . . Anything we do try to do on our own in our striving and efforts is not pleasing or acceptable to God. The only way we can ever please God is through the righteousness of Christ, through His excellence. He’s the only One who has ever measured up to God’s standard of holiness.

But here’s another statement that sounds like the opposite, and it’s just as true. Any woman who is a child of God can be like this woman. . . because Jesus lives in us, and He’s the One who fulfills the righteousness of God. So as we’re filled with the Holy Spirit, you and I can be a virtuous and excellent woman.

You see, the most outstanding thing about this woman as I read this passage . . . is not all the things she can do . . . it’s her heart. It’s her priorities. It’s her values.

- from the radio series The Counter-Cultural Woman by Nancy Leigh DeMoss (2.14.07)

Night Visitors

All of us in the Wright household are pretty much walking around like zombies, due to the unannounced visit last night of our 2 friends, Up and Chuck. They spent several hours with Kari Bou and then moved on to Rachel. Thankfully, they only stayed the night, taking their leave early this morning.

Actually, there's lots to be thankful for:

1. I have no digital pix to share with you from this experience.
2. Zekers was never affected by the visit.
3. Both girls are feeling better today, although Kari Bou is now spending quality time with another friend, Squirt.
4. Rachel happened to be sleeping in the bottom bunk last night, not the top!
5. Danny was home this time, and carried most of the clean-up, allowing me to simply give baths and dress and snuggle shivering sweethearts.
6. In the midst of everything, Zekers has been using his little potty with increasing frequency, and has managed to keep his diaper dry so far today!! ("Official" potty training begins Thursday)

And now - I get to indulge in something I've been wanting to do since Sunday morning . . . take a nap!!

Incomprehensible

Resurrection Sunday was hard. There's no other way to say it. I know it's a celebration of Christ's triumph over death and the grave, and that is cause for great rejoicing! But the fact is, you can't dwell on Christ's resurrection without being affected by the reality of the cross, and the truth about the cross is . . . unthinkable. For one thing, I can't bear to think of Christ enduring His own Father's wrath in such a cruel way - for people who, left to themselves, do nothing but sin continuously - for me. For another thing, there is no logical explanation! It's mind-bending. It's gut-wrenching. It's overwhelming. And yet . . . it's unspeakably beautiful.

I wanted to share the words of a song that's been haunting me all week, if I may:

How deep the Father's love for us, how vast beyond all measure
That He should give His only Son to make a wretch His treasure
How great the pain of searing loss; the Father turns His face away
As wounds which mare the chosen One bring many sons to glory

Behold the man upon a cross, my sin upon His shoulders
Ashamed, I hear my mocking voice call out among the scoffers
It was my sin that held him there until it was accomplished
His dying breath has brought me life; I know that it it finished

I will not boast in anything - no gifts, no power, no wisdom
But I will boast in Jesus Christ - His death and resurrection
Why should I gain from His reward? I cannont give an answer
But this I know with all my heart: His wounds have paid my ransom


"He made Him who knew no sin to be sin on our behalf, so that we might become the righteousness of God in Him" (2 Cor. 5:21).

Even though David wasn't speaking of the cross specifically when he uttered these words (but he was speaking of God's omniscience), I can't help but echo them now: "Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is too high, I cannot attain to it" (Ps. 139:6).

That's all.

The Grossest French Kiss I've Ever Witnessed

I received a "kiss" similar to this one (from a black lab) while in high school. Blech!

The Neglected Middle Child Has Another Birthday Party

All reports are in . . . after Saturday, Zekers has officially consumed enough cake and ice cream to last him until his next birthday.

For party #2, at Grandpa & Grandma Miller's house, we did an Elmo theme. The cake came together without a hitch, and both Zekers and cousin Esther (who turns 2 this week) got to blow out a candle. It was much different than the Thomas cake - all I did was make the cake and four different colors of frosting, and followed the outlines. Ya gotta love Wilton pans! And the beautiful thing: this is the third time I've used the pan (Elmo has been the main attraction for Rachel's and Zekers' 2nd birthdays), plus a couple of friends have borrowed it, so I can finally stop losing sleep over the amount I spent on it.


Highlights of the evening included: overcoming his fear of baby Lucas, eating about 6.3 deviled eggs, reading books with Grandpa, seeing Ohio State win (a highlight for Mommy and Daddy!), wolfing down Elmo's nose (he called dibs on it before I even made the cake; and Rachel called dibs on an eyeball), and, of course, opening presents.




Before we left, all four cousins took a bath together in Grandma & Grandpa's tub - what a hoot. They all combed each other's hair and played with little plastic boats and sucked on washcloths and looked completely adorable.

One last thing: I would be remiss if I failed to mention the gift God gave Danny & me for Zekers' birthday . . .

Exactly one year ago, pretty much on his 2nd birthday, our sweet, sunshiny little boy turned into a completely different person. He's been grumpy, whiny, tempermental, and beyond stubborn, often consumed by fits of temper that last nearly an hour. I will never again shake my head at parents of children who behave this way in public, because the truth is, we've tried EVERYTHING we can think of with him - from compassion and encouragement to strict discipline - and nothing has worked. He cries and throws temper tantrums at church, refuses to go near people he's always loved, and makes rude comments to Danny and me (such as "Get out of my bed, Mommy" and "Go back to work, Daddy.")

But these past 2 weeks, since he's turned 3, it's as if some cloud that's been hanging over him all year has suddenly dissipated, and we have our little boy back again! He smiles and laughs, he acts like a total clown, he's cooperative and even helpful. I have no idea what brought about this change, but I'll take it! It's like there was some kind of "crabby spell" baked into last year's Elmo cake, and he had to eat another cake to reverse the effects.

Also, the most unexpected gift Zekers received: this book, from what we used to think was a fine, upstanding family in our church . . . I just pray he doesn't request the action figure.

The Best Medicine

Today, I'm thanking God for the gift of laughter.

I can't complain about the first 12 weeks of this pregnancy - overall, the baby's taken it easy on me! But the past 6 days, fatigue has hit me like a frieght train. So basically, it's been a very long week and I've been very short on patience.

Today, however, has been a total gift from God. All day long, the kiddos have just been a joy - and a total riot! I started laughing at breakfast and I guess that set the tone for the rest of the day. It was all because of things like . . .



. . . Zekers sitting at the breakfast table saying "What's up, Dog?" between bites of oatmeal

. . . Karis, noting that Zekers was getting laughs, repeating "Up, Dog" and looking very pleased with herself

. . . Going downstairs to investigate some banging sounds and finding Zekers and Karis happily playing in the dryer

. . . Rachel donning her princess nightgown and some clashing leggings at around 2 in the afternoon, and thinking she's the queen of fashion

. . . Zekers donning a fireman's hat and cowboy vest and trotting off to save "Princess Sweet Charms" (Where does he come up with this stuff?)

. . . Karis, so proud of herself because she discovered Rachel's play makeup and smeared it all over her face

. . . Trying to practice guitar and Zekers begging me to play his favorite song, There She Goes Again

. . . Rachel & Zekers pretending they just got married, and Rachel telling me that the only problem with her new husband was "He's just too bossy." (Ironic, considering the source)

. . . Zekers figuring out he can sneak in "bad words" by saying he doesn't want to say them. ("Mommy, I don't wanna say 'Shut up'"; "Mommy, it's bad to say 'Crap'"; "I don't like it when I say 'butt'".)

. . . All three munchkins sitting in laundry baskets watching Cinderella (I stopped asking "Why" a long time ago)

. . . Rachel making me go into the bathroom to count her poops (8) so she could brag about how many she produced

. . . Zekers making up words and phrases all day long, and, when questioned as to their meaning, replying (every time), "It means that you click something."

. . . Karis yelling "Bye-bye, Dada!" out the front door as Danny left for his class tonight. She has a special smile just for her daddy, and it melts my heart to see it.


Several months ago, after listening to a John Piper sermon from a Together for the Gospel conference that Danny attended, I decided to change my response when the kids (or anyone) thank me for doing something for them - which they're pretty good at remembering to do. I realized today that they really are listening, as I began to change the fourth poopy diaper for the day and muttered under my breath, "Why am I even bothering with this? It'll just be dirty again in 20 minutes." Zekers immediately replied, "Because it's your pleasure, Mommy."

So, in spite of some occasional fighting, whining and scattering piles of clean laundry throughout the house, it's been a good day. Laughter certainly can be therapeudic.

How to be a Lazy Cheat

The other day, I was playing a game with the kids. I asked them what they saw on the ceiling and then when they looked up, I tickled their necks. Well, when I got to Rachel and asked, "Hey, what do you see up there?", she looked up and immediately replied, "the ceiling fan and spiderwebs."

I looked up (which I obviously rarely do) and saw that, sadly, it was true - there were a few stray cobwebs caught between the lights on the fan. So for the next 15 minutes I went around the entire house getting rid of cobwebs and praying fervently that the friends & family that have come and gone through our house the past several months haven't noticed my lack of passion for cleaning.

I've got to be honest: the past couple of months (OK, years), I haven't had much extra energy for staying on top of housecleaning like I want to. I just keep thinking that it's much more important for me to expend energy on playing outside with the kids and making time for friends than dusting the living room.

But that's where I have a problem. I do need to keep things somewhat presentable, because quite a few people seem to come into our house during the week, both expected guests and pop-ins.

Since I thouroughly enjoy having company, but hate it when they see my messy house, I've had to come up with a solution I can live with. So I've come up with these simple guidelines, which, when adhered to, give the illusion of cleanliness, and for the time being, that's good enough for me!

1. Make the beds. This one little thing immediately makes everything seem more orderly.

2. Clean the floors. This does not mean mopping/scrubbing!! I spot clean the linoleum and hardwood, and pick up all noticeable lint from the living room floor when I'm expecting guests. (I don't always vacuum!) When the floors are clean, the whole house seems clean.

3. Become good friends with disinfectant wipes. A quick swipe of the sink and toilet leave the bathroom looking good and smelling fresh. I've used both Lysol and Clorox wipes and really like both. They are also good for spot cleaning just about any surface: floor, cabinets, countertops, a child's face, you name it.

4. Consolidate toys. By this, I mean that when I see someone approaching, or have just a few minutes before someone comes over, I gather all the toys from the living room, kitchen and dining room, etc., and throw them into one of the kids' rooms! It's much easier for me to deal with ONE messy room, than six, even if that one room is impossible to walk through. And guests have no idea of the disaster that lurks behind closed doors.

So you see, it's all about creating a satisfying illusion. (Please do not make any spiritual analogies out of this one - it only applies to cleaning!)

Of course, every once in a while, there's nothing for it but to buckle down and really give the house a good cleaning, but most of the time you can "cheat" your way through quite effectively.

And after a conversation with some friends tonight, I concluded that no one really notices those darn cobwebs anyway.

Some Interesting Observations Regarding Gender

Last night we did part of a "date swap" with some friends - something we have been doing for a couple of years now. One month, they watch our kiddos for 4-5 hours on a Friday night and the next we watch theirs. Erin and I both got to thinking, though, that it might be nice to have a whole night and part of the next morning free . . . so we just started doing overnight swaps! Last night it was our turn to chaperone the pajama party.

Doing an overnight thing with five kids under five can be a little scary at first, but it's worked out even better than we'd hoped. The boys sleep in the bunk beds, and the girls get to "camp out" in the basement. Kari Bou is a little left out, but she doesn't seem to mind too much.

Just watching the munchkins really got me chuckling. I couldn't help noticing how differently the girls and boys acted in certain situations. I took pictures of them while they were watching Monsters, Inc., because the way they sat together just seemed so typical . . . the girls all snuggly, practically sitting on top of each other, and the boys sitting a good 2 feet apart.












Then there was snack time this morning. They all decided to get goofy with crackers and wanted me to take a few snapshots. The girls, of course, wanted their picture together and were all smiles. The boys, on the other hand, each wanted their own picture and and wanted it to look ultra serious (which only made it look goofier). It's just so interesting to see these differences at such a young age. Not that the girls never play with trucks, and not that the boys don't occasionally enjoy walking around the house in pink princess shoes, but there are some definite differences in the way they're wired!


And where was Kari Bou all this time? Poor Kari Bou . . . she can't seem to avoid catastrophe for five minutes in a row. She managed to not only bruise an entire side of her face while at Burger King the other day, but last night she fell over the back of a rocker onto her face, got 2 fat lips and a bloody nose. So much for trying to fit in with the big kids. But her injuries did make her super snuggly, and I'll take that any day!

Time to Party

I can't believe my baby boy will be turning 3 in less than one week! We are actually celebrating the occasion with TWO parties - one at Grandma & Grandpa Wright's, which was this past weekend, and one next weekend with cousin Esther at Grandma & Grandpa Miller's. Does it get any better than that??

It worked out perfectly. I was all set to do an Elmo theme for Zekers and Esther, since they both love the little red fuzzy guy. Well, about 2 weeks ago, Zekers decided that he just HAD to have a Thomas party. Nothing else would do - he's absolutely crazy about Thomas & friends. So, now he gets to have both! Normally I would have made him choose one, but I figured with 2 parties, why not do 2 different themes?





The trick was coming up with a Thomas cake that someone as non-artistic as I am could make, without spending a small fortune on a special pan. My goal was simply that Zekers would recognize that it was Thomas! I ended up Googling an image of Thomas, printing it off, getting an enlargement made at a local print shop, and using it as a template. I baked 2 9x13" cakes, laid the "pattern" on top and cut out around it, then just kind of tried to copy the image using frosting and a couple of girl scout cookies. Danny was nice enough to take the kids for the morning to I could work uninterrupted - and I needed every minute of that time - it took me just about 3 hours, not including baking time! But it was worth it. Zekers' face lit up the moment he laid eyes on the cake, and that was enough reward for me.
























Highlights of the day included: a dog towel, complete with long ears and a tail; a new stuffed rhino whom he promptly named "Chunky"; a Spiderman sleeping bag (How he can be such a big fan without ever having seen any Spiderman shows is beyond me!); a Thomas train that goes, stops and turns at the toot of a whistle; and a teeter-totter from cousins Quinn and Ian. Oh yes, and the cake and ice cream.



I couldn't resist taking a picture of Zekers' backside at one point, because he always looks like this from the rear. The poor little guy has no hips, and his pants are constantly pulling his diaper down and showing a very large portion of backside. It cracks me up.

On the way home, I believe our little birthday boy was completely partied out. This is pretty much how he spent the ride home - rhino firmly positioned under one arm and fully outfitted in all his cowboy gear. Oh, yeah - he decided to go with the dual theme of "Thomas the train" and "Cowboy", donning a vest, boots and hat over his train shirt. What can I say? He's an aclectic little guy!

From Deliriously Excited to Extremely Bummed in Less Than 60 Seconds

For months - well, maybe more like years! - Rachel has been chomping at the bit to attend kindergarten, that magical land of RECESS and INDEPENDENCE and BIG KIDS. Not to mention the thrill of riding in the legendary BIG YELLOW SCHOOL BUS. I believe she's been drooling over the whole thing since she turned 3. She'll turn 5 at the end of August, a month before the cutoff. Normally, I wouldn't even think twice about holding back a child with a late August birthday, but Rachel couldn't be more ready, and I firmly believe that with these things you have to operate on a case-by-case basis.

So this morning, I took her to our local elementary school to register for next fall. I gave the secretary the required papers - proof both of her updated immunizations and of her existence. I filled out some forms while Rachel practiced writing her name on a scrap piece of paper - she doesn't always cooperate when it comes to taking instruction from me, and I figured this was a great opportunity to reiterate that "if you can't write your name, they probably won't let you in." (I'm so mean) Actually, she's got that down and can write a lot of the alphabet, but the practice is good for her.

What I've been having a hard time with since our return home was the part where I asked about screening. She was given a screening date and time, and being the overacheiving, hyper-paranoid parent whose first child is about to enter school, I asked what, specifically, Rach needs to know/be able to do to enter. I couldn't believe the answer: NOTHING. Say what?? Yep - as long as I want Rachel to attend kindergarten, attend kindergarten she will, regardless of how unprepared or immature a professional educator judges her to be. The "screening" is simply for classroom placement - they want to evenly distribute kids of all abilities. They can "recommend" holding a child back, but it's ultimately up to the parents.

At this point I'm thinking, I should feel relieved right now. Why, then, does this bother me so much? I guess I've just talked to too many people from different school systems about these screenings - kids normally, it seems, are expected to have mastered certain physical and cognitive milestones before even being considered for kindergarten. I mean, come on, even the twin boys on Everybody Loves Raymond went through it - and one was held back!

On the one hand, I'm a little outraged, because I've been working with Rachel all winter on things I thought she needed to know for this "screening" process. On the other hand, I'm more than a little worried. I was unprepared for such low standards.

My mind immediately skips ahead several steps. If they'll accept Rach no matter what, will they advance her to the next grade level that easily - regardless of her mastery of the previous grade level's material? Are the expectations that low? How can we expect our children to take their school work - and the development of their minds - seriously, when kids are being pushed through who obviously don't give a rip? But now I'm just borrowing trouble . . .

I know, it's only kindergarten. And I hope our kids will enjoy learning for learning's sake - knowlege can be its own reward, after all. I pray they will do everything as to the Lord and not for man, whether it be school-related or not. It is infinitely more important that we teach her biblical values, and invest in her academically here at home, than that she receive good instruction at school.

I hope I'm not being ridiculous and anal, but I am beginning to understand why people opt to send their children to Christian school or to homeshcool them!

Welcome, Lucas!

A little over a month ago, my sister & bro-in-law, Hannah and Kenneth, had a little boy and the kiddos met their newest cousin - Lucas Eugene Ross! He is irresistably cute and such a little bundle - he has the pudgiest little cheeks that you just can't help kissing. This post is WAY overdue, but I keep forgetting to take my camera and had to wait until I got some pix through email. In the first picture he is being held by big sister Esther, who turns 2 next month.

All 3 munchkins reacted very differently to their small cousin. Rachel spent at least 30 minutes holding him at the hospital; the only time I've seen her sit so quietly! She is a born nurturer and would rather hold a baby than do just about anything else (besides eat dessert and watch TV).

Zekers saw him for the first time several days later, back at the house. I had no idea what to make of his reaction: he actually started crying and grabbed on to my legs, refusing to go anywhere near the baby. I'm not kidding - he was totally freaked out. I have never seen him so scared! By the end of the evening, he had worked up the courage to LOOK at Lucas, but definitely wasn't ready to touch him yet! It wasn't until last week that he finally agreed to hold his cousin for a few minutes.

True to form, Kari Bou had probably the goofiest reaction. She sat on the couch and held Lucas, with an expression on her face that said, "OK, I'll hold him, but I am NOT going to like it." And after about 30 seconds, she practically pushed him off her lap, deciding she'd had quite enough.

At this point we have about 30 weeks to figure out how to keep her from destroying her new baby brother or sister when he/she arrives in the fall. She loves being the baby way too much to give it up gracefully.

Expressions of Poo Bou

One of our little Bou's favorites is reading from her book Baby Faces. A couple of weeks ago, when I happened to mention something to a friend about being surprised, she looked at me, gasped and opened wide her mouth and her eyes. I started dying laughing when I realized she was trying to look surprised! It hit me that I had been inadvertently making the faces listed in her book as we looked through them each time. She now has a litany of facial expressions she can pull out when she feels like it; however, she doesn't always demonstrate these on command, so the other night at dinner, when she was in a particularly silly mood, I took the rare opportunity to get some snapshots to pass on.

In order, the faces are: 1.surprised 2.skeptical 3.sad 4.crying 5.happy 6. laughing

(OK, #2 was supposed to be "concerned" but there's just no getting away from the obvious display of skepticism.)


surprised
skeptical
sad
crying
happy
laughing

NOT funny

. . . so I'm giving the kids a bath tonight and Rachel says, "Mom, I'm so strong, I bet I could lift you."

"Well, you're welcome to try," I reply. "But as the baby inside me grows, I'm going to keep getting heavier and heavier until he or she is born."

She looks me straight in the eye and says, "Well, if you get much heavier, only God will be able to lift you."

Percy

One more thing to be thankful for . . .

I was sitting on the couch one rare afternoon last week, while all three kiddos were napping, pouring out all my worries to God. I try to do this as often as possible because a)it prevents me from freaking out as much as I would otherwise and b)He says to do it (Phil. 4:6, I Pet. 5:7). On this particular day I had transportation worries.

Pretty much since the day I found out I was pregnant with Zekers, I have been praying for God to send us a minivan. After spending time looking at some, we concluded that the only way we would ever own one was for God to just bring a miraculous deal our way. So I prayed and waited in expectation. I was just SURE God would answer this prayer with a resounding "Yes!" After all, doesn't having a 2nd child necessitate owning a fully loaded, brand new minivan?

God answered my prayer, alright - by showing us that our current car had ample room for 2 munchkins. Then we discovered Karis was on the way.

Once again, I prayed for a minivan, thinking "How can God refuse us NOW?" His answer? A great little Ford Explorer with over 150,000 miles on it. Wouldn't you know, the backseat had exactly enough room for 3 carseats - no more, no less. With my tendency to worry, the mileage issue was a faith-stretching experience for me, but "Dora" has never let us down in the 2 years since we've made her acquaintance.

Now, with our fourth coming in the fall, I was tempted to pray once again that God would provide that doggone minivan (although Rachel tried to convince me we could just put the new baby's carseat in the trunk and surround it with groceries to keep it balanced.)

But that afternoon, sitting on the couch, I had to make a critical decision. Would I finally stop asking God for what I thought we needed and just trust Him to provide what He knew was best? For days, I had felt Him asking me "Are you willing to trust me in this, too?" And I finally decided to leave it with Him. I told Him I was through asking for a specific mode of transportation, and would be grateful for whatever He decided to provide. I fully expected He would bring a 30-yr-old beat-up station wagon with no air conditioning and a weird smell, that just happened to fit 4 carseats, sometime around October 10th. But I told Him I would be grateful for whatever He provided, whenever He provided it, because He's already given us WAY more than we deserve. It was a long-overdue moment of surrender.

This is no exaggeration: my prayer was interrupted by my phone ringing. It was Danny, calling to tell me that one of his dad's friends was getting ready to trade in his 2002 GMC Safari and would sell it to us for the trade-in value, which turned out to be about half of the actual value of the van, and within our price range. What's more, the van had just over 55,000 miles on it. And for a little extra fun, it actually has a DVD player!

Several days later, we bought the van. We wanted to pray about it first, rather than just rush into buying it, but every time I tried, it was like God was saying, "Duh! What are you waiting for?!"

I gotta tell ya, "Percy", named by Zekers after a green train, is the most beautiful thing I've ever laid eyes on. I'm not kidding. It's a breeze to get the kids in and out, and I feel like I'm driving around sitting in a living room. Every time I get behind the steering wheel, lines from Field of Dreams dance through my head: "Is this heaven?" "No, it's Percy."

God is good. He's good no matter what, even if He would have given us a six-person bicycle (do those even exist??). But I think that when I forget to trust Him, I will be reminded of His incredible provision every time I open the garage door and see Percy.

Frozen Corn and Servanthood

It's funny how "little" things can be such a big deal . . .

A friend and I are doing a babysitting swap - one week she has my kids for a morning, and the next week I have her 2 youngest, who are both 18 months like Kari Bou. This morning it was my turn to watch her kids.

The morning went great, but lunchtime, no matter what, can get a little chaotic, and was especially so today since I had promised Rach & Zekers we would have cheese & chicken quesadillas, which require some cooking and chopping.

While I was getting everything ready the kiddos had decided to make a "path" through the kitchen and around the perimeter of the dining room, using pretty much every towel and dish cloth we own, as well as most of the placemats. (If you ever eat dinner at our house, consider this fair warning; I tired long ago of washing every cloth item that hits the floor. I figure Kari Bou spends enough time licking the floor to keep it somewhat clean anyway.)

I turned around to see that Zekers had managed to open the freezer door (our fridge and freezer are side-by-side), and Kari Bou, who misses no opportunity to wreak havoc, had made a beeline for the shelf where I keep the frozen veggies. Last week I had opened a package of corn so I could use a little in some soup, and (will I never learn?) had just folded the edge of the bag under instead of fastening it securely.

You can guess what happened. Before I could do anything, she had dumped the entire bag of corn all over the kitchen floor, and stood there with an impish "now what are you gonna do about it" look on her face. There was nothing for it but to get down on my hands and knees and begin scooping up handfuls of corn into a bowl, since it was too much to sweep up at first.

Next thing I know, Rach is beside me, scooping up corn with both hands. We're talking about the child who stalls and tries every tactic in the book to avoid cleaning up her own messes, let alone here sister's! "Sweetie!" I excaimed, not sure where this new attitude was coming from. "Thank you for helping to clean up all this corn. That's really great!"

"Well, I'm just being a servant," came the reply. I stopped and looked at her, almost beyond words. "Where did you learn about being a servant?"

"When we went to Mr. & Mrs. Reifsnider's church the Sunday School teacher told us we need to be servants." I asked her if she could think of anyone in the Bible who was a servant. "Jesus," she answered. Enough said. (By the way, we went to the Reifsniders' church about 2 months ago!)

It is fascinating to me how random Bible stories and Bible verses Rach has learned suddenly find application at completely unexplainable moments. And her attitude was just so sweet and sincere. It actually made me glad Kari Bou had dumped all the corn, allowing me to catch this glimplse of my oldest daughter trying to be a little more like Christ (although I'm not sure she fully understands the concept.)

Rachel also informed me that for the rest of the day, whenever I tell her she can't do something, she's just going to respond with "OK." I guess if one miracle can happen, why not 2?

Youngest No Longer

Kari Bou has about 7 months to adjust to the fact that although she will always be our third child, she will never again be our youngest child. As of October 11, 2007, we will be a family of six.

I write this with a strange mix of emotions. Yesterday we received a year-end letter from some friends in Columbus who just lost a baby at 17 weeks gestation - the third time this has happened to them in the past 2 1/2 years. I think of other close friends who have experienced miscarriages, the loss of a child, the inability to conceive. And I feel completely undeserving of this incredible gift God has lavished upon us. The thought that He's chosen to bless us in such a huge way four times is just unconscionable to me.

We couldn't be more excited or more grateful for the life of this unborn child, who right now pretty much looks like a little peanut with blobs for arms and legs. And the munchkins?

Rachel is excited but has no concept of the time involved. Yesterday she thought the baby was going to come out at the dr's office. She wants another sister, of course.

Zekers, in spite of limited understanding, seems to be happy about the idea, often stating loudly his request for a "brudder."

As for Kari Bou, she has no idea what's coming, and it's probably a good thing . . .

You know the bossiness is out of control when . . .

RACHEL: Mom, can we watch a movie? (This request made at least a dozen times a day.)

ME: I tell you what - If you clean up all of your Polly Pocket things, I'll let you watch a short one.

RACHEL: Yea!! (jumping up and down and heading toward the living room)

ME: Not so fast! Remember it's Zekers' turn to pick the movie this time.

RACHEL: OK, Mom!

ME: Where are you going?

RACHEL: To tell Zekers which movie he wants to watch!

Three Items of Interest

Yesterday:

1. Zekers pulled his elbow out of joint Tuesday night but luckily our pediatritian was able to snap it pretty easily back into place, and showed me how to do the "procedure" in case of future incident.

2. To get to the pediatritian, I drove through the thickest, heaviest fog I've ever seen - but we made it OK, and the frosted tree branches we drove past on the way there were just beautiful.

3. The kids & I stumbled onto a killer sale at JCPenney and I ended up buying over $1,000 worth of stuff for $97. (Who says the hunter-gatherer instinct is unique to men?)

And here, just for the fun of it, is one of my favorite poses of the three munchkins.

Thankful

It shouldn't come as any great surprise to me - the realization that God not only cares about what goes on in the nitty-gritty of my day, but is right there with me in the midst of it. It amazes me every time, though, when He chooses to gently and lovingly remind me of His immanence and the fact that He knows what's going on, not only in my living room, but in my heart.

This morning I nearly had what Carolyn Mahaney describes as a "mommy meltdown." The house was trashed from top to bottom, and we're having small group here tonight. I hadn't even thought about a snack for it. I was trying to do some work on the computer for nursery (which I'd already put off much longer than I should), and make some phone calls for an upcoming church-related event I'm helping to plan.

Well, you know how kids can be the moment they see that you're on the phone! They've been feeling pretty cooped-up the last couple of weeks, what with all the snow, and spent most of the morning in what I call "the vicious trio": Whining, Crying and Fighting. All of this while I'm trying to talk on the phone, of course, which is ringing off the hook. And every time I try to walk anywhere I'm tripping over toys (and Karis), sending the older 2 to their rooms and giving them spankings in between calls.

Then Rachel comes to me and says, "Mom, come get Kari Bou!" I stumble into the dining room, where Rachel had been creating colorful designs with thick "project paint", which I set up for her earlier so I wouldn't feel as guilty about being on the phone. There is Karis, happily sitting on the table, covered in green, blue, red and yellow paint - rubbing it into her hair and licking it off her fingers (luckily, the label says "non-toxic"). I glanced at the clock. 9:08 AM.

And the morning raged on. I broke up fights, dished out discipline (often with a less-than-godly attitude), changed poopy diapers, wiped snotty noses, removed and stain-treated 5 shirts and 2 pairs of pants, cleaned up innumerable messes, extracted about 7 items from Kari Bou's mouth, and entertained the thought that maybe our small group wouldn't mind meeting outside tonight - the temperatures are a little warmer this week! I spent most of the morning feeling like the Proverbs 32 woman, who is the evil twin and essentially the polar opposite of the Proverbs 31 woman.

Utterly defeated, I sat down in the middle of the living room and just watched the kids tear each other apart as I slowly began picking up puzzle pieces, like a patient in a mental health facility. (I may have even drooled a little.) And that's when God sent an angel to my house.

In the midst of the craziness, the doorbell rang. Out of the blue, a dear friend stopped by on the way to pick up her own daughter from kindergarten, and offered to take Rachel home for the afternoon. She also insisted on making food for small group tonight. (She didn't have to do a whole lot of persuading!)

As soon as she left, I burst into tears. I thought, God sent her to my doorstep just when I needed her. In that moment, I felt His presence so strongly. I know that He is "an ever-present help in trouble" but it's an extra-special gift to be able to almost tangibly feel it sometimes. I often have this totally incorrect picture of Him sitting there frowning because I'm not doing things right, telling me to just suck it up, telling me all the ways I'm falling short of His standards. I have a hard time seeing Him as a loving dad, who cares enough to help me shoulder the load. It's my fault - I'm always trying to do things in my own strength.

God has continued to remind me of His presence all afternoon! Nancy Leigh DeMoss is doing a radio series, which is transcribed online, focused on . . . yep - the Proverbs 31 woman. I read it every day. Well, today's message centered around verse 13, which talks about how a godly woman works hard to keep up her home, and how that, as mothers, is our #1 calling - managing our homes and taking care of our families. Wow - did I need to hear (see) that! I guess it was just a confirmation when I most needed one, that I am investing myself in something worthwhile, you know? Even on days like today. She shared as an example a friend of hers who gave up a promising career to stay at home with her three children, ages 4, 3, and 1!

And then I read Joshua 10, which our life group will discuss tonight. It's about Joshua and the Israelites defeating all these huge cities and their kings because God fought for them! This is a little morbid, but Joshua has the military chiefs place their feet on the necks of five kings who they defeated, and says to them, "Do not fear or be dismayed. Be strong and courageous, for thus the Lord will do to all your enemies with whom you fight." Then he strings them all up.

I'm not fighting kings and kingdoms, but I fight battles every day, in this house and in my mind - and it is an indescribable comfort to know that God isn't just standing there telling me what I'm doing wrong (although He does have a way of lovingly bringing to my attention areas that need some work!); He's fighting for me! And I guess what really melts me is the awareness that all these kindnesses are so totally undeserved. All I can do is shout out "God is good!" and fall down at His feet in worship.

It goes without saying that I'm thankful for God's grace (but I'll say it anyway!) I'm thankful for the friends God has placed in my life. I'm grateful for a husband who works hard to provide for our family, going far beyond the call of duty in so many ways. And I'm grateful that I have the privilege of staying home with our children and investing in them day in and day out, because I know with absolute certainty that there is no higher calling for those to whom God has granted the privilege of motherhood. Even on a day like today . . . especially on a day like today.

Till We Have (Happy) Faces

I knew he could do it!!

Last Friday we trekked over to JC Penney and witnessed a miracle. The photographer actually got great shots of Zekers (he'll be 3 at the end of March), Kari Bou (she'll be 18 months at the end of February) and all three of the kids (just for the fun of it) in less than 20 minutes. And they all looked happy!

So about Zekers' super-cute pose: at first, I was absolutely thrilled. But LATER as I looked through pictures on my digital camera - 10 of which were me trying to get Zekers to look even a little bit happy - I grew increasingly indignant. I'm posting these 2 pictures so you can see just how different the response is when the photographer tells Zekers to smile, as opposed to when his own mother (who went through 6 hours of labor to bring him into the world) makes the same request.



I want to know this photographer's secret. How is it that a complete stranger can instantly inspire such sweet smiles in my son, while I get shots like this one?

Maybe I need to invest in a carpeted wooden platform with curtains behind it. Or maybe I should just forget ever pursuing a career in photography! haha. Or we could go with Danny's theory: that Zekers is simply showing his displeasure at the fact that his hair looks "girly" because of the curls Mommy hasn't had the heart to cut off. Deep down, though, I know the secret: he's always been a sucker for pretty girls who tell him how adorable he is!

Man vs. Vegetable

A battle rages daily in our house. On one side, it's a battle for supremacy, and on the other - a battle for survival.

Nearly one year ago, I received a beautiful red shamrock plant for my birthday, which I immediately and proudly displayed by the largest window in the house, where it would be sure to get plenty of direct sunlight.

Life was good for the little plant - until Kari Bou began walking, that is. Since the day she took her first tentative steps (sometime back in June), she has had but one goal: search for and destroy shamrock! This mission has taken on various forms, including dumping the plant on the floor; tearing off and eating its leaves; body slamming it on any available surface; and pounding it repeatedly with a book.

Unbelievably, this little shamrock has fought back in its own way, refusing to go quietly into the night. With each new abuse, its stems develop new dents and its leaves look a little more bedraggled. But for every stem torn away, a new one always manages to grow. Once, when I was sure the poor plant was done for because every one of its stems appeared to be broken beyond repair, all three stems miraculously resurrected themselves! By now there are supposed to be at least 20 stems with leaves, all growing straight up and out. But, though stunted and bent, our little plant bravely holds its own.

So the battle rages on . . . baby vs. shamrock. Who will be the ultimate victor? To be honest, I fear for the plant, as Kari Bou has recently been compared to an "armor-plated rhino", and I can't say I disagree with the assessment. But, if it has survived this long, maybe it will hang in there at least until my next birthday . . . .

Highly Recommended

Several weeks ago, I finished reading a book I classify as a must read for anyone who has children or is anticipating children anytime in the near future. The book - Shepherding a Child's Heart by Tedd Tripp - is different than any other I've read on child-raising. Tripp lays out principles that go far beyond the behavior modification techniques found in most other literature, instructing parents instead to deal with the heart attitudes that drive behavior.

Drawing upon passages from God's Word, Tripp explains that effective communication and the rod go hand in hand; the rod becomes an catalyst to allow communication to take place - encouragement, correction, rebuke, entreaty, instruction, warning, teaching, prayer. I've got to be honest - I'd never thought to pray with my children after correcting them!

The author also encourages readers to re-examine the goals they've set for their children, citing Psalm 73:25: "Whom have I in heaven but You? And being with You I desire nothing on earth." He exhorts parents to make sure the content of everyday life fits this theme. And what should our ultimate goal be in parenting? To train our children to behave in a way that honors God - and to take them daily to the cross of Christ.

I've read many books that present the philosophy without much methodology. Tripp, refreshingly, offers several chapters on helpful ways to implement the concepts he presents in the first half of the book - from toddlers up through teenagers. A very eye-opening 211 pages!

The second book, which I finished just yesterday, is called The Treasure Principle, authored by Randy Alcorn, a pastor in Oregon. The central message is on giving, which didn't sound at all appealing to me at first. Truth be told, I really had no desire to be convicted on this topic, and only read the book at the continual urging of my dear sweet husband (and because it's short and an easy read!)

I wasn't convicted in the way I thought I would be. Alcorn doesn't guilt the reader into giving, nor does he in any way insinuate that those who don't give 90% of their income are in any way less "spiritual" than those who do. Instead he lays out the principle from Matt. 6, which he calls "The Treasure Principle" (Go figure!), and it is this: You can't take it with you, but you can send it on ahead of you. Simple but profound.

I've been familiar with Matt. 6:18 most of my life, I think, but never let its message penetrate my heart to the point of realizing that every resource I devote to furthering the kingdom here on earth, every sacrifice I make in this life, stores up future reward - treasure that will last FOREVER! No matter how great a fortue we amass on earth, it is so fleeting, so temporary and brings no lasting happiness.

The book has really caused me to search my own heart - and to begin at least praying for God's guidance as to how I can increase my faith by sacrificial giving. It's incredibly difficult for me to hold our finances with an open hand, but Alcorn speaks truth when he says that we do not own the resources God has entrusted to us. They are His, and we are but managers. I pray that I am a faithful one!

Ahhhhhhhh . . . .

I've just had the most wonderful day. . .

This morning started off with playgroup at our house - the first of many (I hope!). I wasn't quite sure what to expect, what with several inches of freshly-fallen snow on the ground and school closed for the 3rd day in a row. But we ended up having 6 moms and 11 children in spite of (maybe because of) the weather. I think we were all feeling a bit cooped up. The time spent with other moms, for me, was like wrapping chilled hands around a steaming cup of coffee (which a few of us literally did!). I thouroughly enjoyed the entire morning, including the fact that all the munchkins played so well together. At one point, there were at least 8 little ones sitting at our dining room table quietly eating their snack. Imagine! Of course, the quiet lasted for about 1.5 minutes, but it's so great knowing your kids are having fun.

This afternoon Zekers got a haircut. Danny was nice enough to meet with someone at our house, instead of at the church, so Karis could nap while I took the other 2 to the salon. Our little guy's hair has become quite the bush lately, and was long overdue for a shearing. Still, it's always a little sad for me to see his curls cut off. But he sat so still and acted like such a little man and was so darn cute afterward! He was a little anxious about the whole process at first, and wanted me to hold him, but I asked him if it would be ok for me to just hold his hand, and he agreed. So we sat there the whole time, holding hands. It is just the coolest thing in the world when your child looks at you with this total trust - all is right with the world now that you're holding my hand, Mommy - and adoration. I can't somehow put it into words.

Later in the afternoon Rach, Zekers and I played in the snow. I pulled them on the sled, they made snow angels and left footprints on every square inch of the yard, and we rediscovered the joy of sucking on icicles (until Rachel pulled one off the dumpster). They even took a "trip" down the sidewalk to the end of the block, "spent the night in a hotel" and then headed back. As they stumbled around and laughed gleefully and threw snow I couldn't help laughing, too, because they were just these short little people who think they're so grown up. And I know that all too soon they will be.

Rachel said to me afterward, "Mom, I'm not the same Rachel. I'm a new Rachel." When I asked her what was different about her, she replied, "It's like the old Rachel was flushed down the toilet and died and now a new Rachel is here." Not an atypical conversation to have when you're around Rach.

We came inside and drank hot chocolate - they got to put in their own marshmallows, which was a real highlight. We had dinner and watched "God Made Families" all snuggled up on the couch, a Wednesday night tradition. Rachel even got to join us since Cubbies was cancelled tonight.

And since Rach & Zekers haven't had a nap in a few days, but have had a lot of late nights and very early mornings, they were ready for bed at 7:30 - unheard of! - and I actually have time to post before watching the first Lost that's aired since November. Really, do days come any better than this??

A Rose By Any Other Name

It occured to me the other day that my kids may have a few issues, most of them revolving around animals.

First of all, a meal at our house which doesn't include a host of critters sitting on the table "watching" Rach & Zekers eat is an extreme rarity. Rachel loves to pile her Polly Pockets and various stuffed animals onto the centerpiece and all around it, insisting that they all find a "comfortable spot." Zekers, on the other hand, drags to the table an armload of little animals from his Little People farm, all of which must be lined up perfectly in front of his place setting with their eyes fixed on him. If just one is cockeyed - well, forget any food entering his mouth until the creature has been properly aligned.

OK, so probably a lot of kids go through this stage of wanting all their "friends" to accompany them to the dinner table. But even odder are the names these poor animals and dolls are forced to live with. Last summer, Rachel received a couple of fashion Barbie dolls from a freind of the family, and promptly named them "Hermie" and "Webster." The previous summer, she proudly named 2 favorite baby dolls "Shrum Shrum" and "Kir Kir". Zekers has 2 favorite cows from his farm; the brown one is named "Snowflake" and the white one is "Pickle Boy." (I am not making any of this up, I promise!) He also has 2 jousting horses; the red one is "Thunder" - a respectable horse name - but the blue one he simply named "Girl." Last but not least, his little blue stuffed elephant sports the name "Cook Elephant." And we are not allowed to refer to them simply as "your blue elephant" or "the white cow". No, it has to be "Zekers, please pick up Cook Elephant," or "I don't think Pickle Boy really likes drinking out of the toilet."

Probably scariest of all, they have named their bunk beds, although Danny and I must take much of the blame for this one. They both like to sleep on the top bunk, so we have them trade off every couple of months. To ease our son's pain at having to transition to the lame bottom bed several weeks ago, we encouraged them to name the beds, thinking this would help. So what names did they come up with? The top bed is now proudly referred to as "Squirt", and the bottom as "Crusty." It actually didn't help all that much to name them, and I now have the added bonus of realizing the names are pretty appropriate. Ew.

I only hope they grow out of this animals-on-the-table, and weird-names phase before they start dating, or they'll find themselves going on a LOT of first dates.

Snowy Day

Yea! We came back from our Virginia trip to several inches of snow - finally! Rach and Zekers have been begging to build a snowman, so I took them out the other day to play in the snow and make "Frosty." We picked out a carrot for his nose, a scarf to wrap around his neck, and 2 prunes for eyes (a gag gift from Danny's 30th birthday party which we still, for some reason, have in the pantry. At least now they're serving some purpose, I guess!)

Unfortunately, our attempts yeilded some pretty lame snowballs, due to the very cold temps, so we contented ourselves with producing a "snow apple" - Rachel's idea - pretty much just a ball of snow with a small stick at the top, which they gleefully ate (the snow, not the stick!), and then claimed it made them too full to eat lunch.






I just had to include this picture of Kari Bou in her "new" snowsuit; the first time we went out, she wasn't at all sure what she thought of it, and definitely wasn't too fond of the scarf, but she did much better the next day, and even posed nicely for the camera.












Zekers wouldn't hold still long enough for me to get a decent shot of him . . . he was way too busy running, yelling, and diving headlong into the snow.











For Rachel it was a dream come true. All winter long she has looked forward to making snow angels and finally she got her wish, although she wasn't too thrilled about her wet behind when she came back inside.

I had to laugh when I realized the total amount of time spent outside was almost equal to the total amount of time spent getting us all ready to go outside! But it was worth the effort, just to see them all having so much fun.