Caught in the Act

Yesterday I got my first speeding ticket in 14 years.

A friend and I had decided to watch the kids of another friend of ours for the day so she could get some things done around the house. Honestly, I was really looking forward to the day and my spirits soared as I sped (quite literally, it turns out) toward her house. A little too late, I noticed the police cruiser sitting by the side of the road. To my dismay, I noticed the officer was a middle-aged woman: no chance of getting out of this one!

To make matters worse, my license was 2 months expired, as she pointed out when she nailed me both for that and for speeding. I actually have to show up in court in 2 weeks, and she suspended my driving privileges until I got my license renewed - as of that very moment. I had no option but to call Danny, who had to drive the van to pick up the kids, then drive me to get my license renewed (where I had the added bonus of trying to explain to the BMV lady why I was in posession of 2 driver's licenses - long story), then drive me back to get his truck so I could drive everyone back to our house. I felt like I was five.

I guess I was due. I can't cry foul on this one - I got exactly what I deserved. As frustrated as I was yesterday, I now realize that doing something kind for someone doesn't exonerate one from breaking the law in the process. *sigh* It's just that this particular law is so hard for me to abide by sometimes . . . OK, most of the time.

On a brighter note, the day got much better. We had 7 kids in the morning, and 9 in the afternoon, and the day actually went pretty fast. It's a good feeling, after being on the receiving end of so much unexpected kindness, to be able to give back a little.

And here, for those who demand pictures of the craziness, is irrefutable proof . . .


Zekers insisted on wearing his clown wig all morning on Monday, as well as part of a knight costume he got for Christmas. He wouldn't even take them off for lunch. A typical day in the life for him, I suppose.



Kari Bou discovers markers (fortunately, they're the washable kind!)




Another favorite of Kari Bou's is to wear shoes around that are too big for her, and to dig through the trash.




Six of the kids who spent the day yesterday (We tried to get more of them in the pic, but settled for 6 in the end!)

Adventures in Weenie Lake

The past week's activities are too numerous to cram into any less than about 10 posts, so I'll skip right to the weekend, which filled my adventure/entertainment quota for the month!

Friday after lunch we loaded the kiddos into the van and drove to Winona Lake, IN, the town where Danny and I both attended college. . . . eons ago. A student who was very involved in our youth group for several years and then attended Grace had asked Danny to do his wedding, and invited the whole family to come along.

Now, as soon as the munchkins hear the word "hotel" they get absolutely giddy, especially if there's an indoor pool. I get a little lightheaded myself, just thinking about all the extra swimming gear there is to pack and keep track of.

The trip there was uneventful (thank goodness). As soon as we assured Rachel that she really would survive the 3-hour trip without watching a DVD, Danny and I listened to a Mark Driscoll podcast (good content; interesting word choices) and a Piper sermon.

As soon as we got to the ampitheater for the rehearsal, I realized we had a problem. Between Zekers' intensely loud voice, and Karis trying continually to "hug" a little boy in the wedding party and forcing him to run for cover, it became clear that I needed to quickly relocate the kiddos until everything was over. Fortunately, at the bottom of the hill was a sort of moat around a grassy island that could only be accessed by a footbridge. The moat widened into a pond, where there sat a lovely fountain, which fascinated all three kids. So to the island we went, where I spent about 30 minutes freaking out every time one of them went too near the edge (which was about every 10 seconds).

Suddenly, I heard six words that made my blood run cold: "Mommy, I have to go potty."

We were very near the shore of the lake, where, since our graduation from Grace, various art shops and cafes have been built - and it's all very eye-catching and looks loads better than it did 10 years ago. However, with the landscape so altered, I had no idea where to locate a restroom, and at the pace we were able to travel, I knew it would take more than 5 minutes to enter the nearest building. So I did what any reasonable mother would do under the circumstances. With a furtive glance over my shoulder to make sure the coast was clear, I informed Zekers he would have to pee on a tree. Just as I breathed a sigh of relief, upon seeing he was very willing to do this, he asked, "Mommy, can I poop on the tree, too?" Aaaaagggghhhh!

I scooped Kari Bou up into the stroller, and hustled all three kids down the hill and across the street to the nearest shop, where I was informed that NONE of the shops had bathrooms. In fact, the nearest one was at a large restaurant several blocks down. So to the restaurant we ran - as fast as three small children and a pregnant woman in a panic can run. The entire journey took about 10 minutes, and miraculously, Zekers made it all the way, although he did inform me just as we entered the restroom that he was starting to pee a little. He then proceeded to describe everything he produced very loudly and in great detail, causing a fellow-restroom-user to comment, "He's three, isn't he?"

Later that night, at the rehearsal dinner, the kiddos gorged themselves on chocolate pudding, pizza and cake (you'd never have guessed they'd already eaten dinner several hours before), and we tucked them into their "super secret" bed (a fold-out couch next to our bed) by 9:45. Danny & I kept the door cracked, and pulled chairs out into the hallway and read for a couple of hours. It was wonderful.

The next morning we went for a swim (very cold and boring story), had breakfast in bed (ate cereal bars, juice and bananas sitting on our bed), and headed to the wedding. We had a couple of hours to kill beforehand, so we walked along the lake and watched part of a "sailboat regatta," which we decided was probably wealthy-speak for "sailboat show"; then we stopped at a coffe shop where I had THE perfect iced caramel cappucino. No joke. It was heaven in a plastic cup.

The fact that the wedding was at 3:00 posed a bit of a problem. I knew the kids, having had a late night and eventful day, would be nearly impossible without naps. They were already getting tired and grumpy. So we came up with the best plan we could think of: at around 2:00, Danny took Rach with him to the wedding, and I drove the other 2 around in the van until they fell asleep, cringing inwardly the entire time over all the gas I was wasting. 20 miles later, they fell asleep, and slept until about 4:00. I parked the van in some shade, and spent a wonderful hour just sitting in the van, praying and thinking, while my angels slept. Wow - how often does a gift like that come along!??

On the way home, we had another adventure. About 30 minutes from home, while driving through absolutely nothing but farmland, Zekers once again had to go potty. After five minutes of desperately looking for somewhere - anywhere - to stop and coming up empty, we ended up pulling into the drive of a farmhouse, hoping that maybe a complete stranger would have mercy on us. By this time Zekers was crying and grabbing his crotch. Fortunately, a super-nice older couple lived there, and were home, and said we could use their bathroom. So I marched Rachel, in her Ariel nightgown, and Zekers in his Batman PJ's in to use the facilities. Of course Rachel, in her loudest voice, made the observation, "Mom, these people are really old!" before I could shush her. Thank goodness for people nice enough to extend hospitality to a family they've never met!

We made it home by 9:30, put the kiddos to bed, and the rest is history. Fun times . . .

Surprised

About a year ago, my mom called to tell me about a writing contest given by a popular magazine - she had this crazy idea I might want to enter. The winning essay would be published on the magazine's blog. (Now, if the top award had been, say, a $1,000 shopping spree to a scrapbooking store, or a month's worth of catered meals, I may have been a bit more motivated!) I didn't end up writing anything for the contest, since it ended in 3 days, but I've thought about the topic ever since and found it quite intriguing. Contestants were to write 500 words or less on "what surprised you most about motherhood". Hmm . . . surprising how hard it is to narrow it down to one thing!


The fact is, there was very little about motherhood that I wasn't surprised by. . .

. . . how little sleep a person can survive on

. . . that three kids who came from the same parents can have such incredibly different personalities

. . . how many things in life really don't matter

. . . the amount of time I spend in the kitchen

. . . how addictive garage sales and thrift stores can be

. . . how many things I said my kids would never do, that they inevitably ended up doing (going out in public with dirty faces; running in the church building; crying loudly at Wal-Mart; whining; watching more than 7.5 minutes of TV per day; eating anything other than tofu and lentils, etc.)

. . . how quickly their moods can change

. . . how quickly my mood can change

. . . the amount of time I spend laughing out loud at their antics

. . . how much I love driving a mini-van

. . . how someone so sweet can create such a stench

. . . that Rach and Zekers remember so much about their Bible story every week at church

. . . the volume of noise generated by someone so small

. . . that after hearing the same CD 57 times, it is actually possible to tune it out completely

. . . the things that are overheard once and repeated - both good and not-so-good!

. . . how many conversations we have weekly about body parts - public and private (both the conversations and the body parts!)

. . . that something as simple as forgetting a ragged old blanket can turn the world upside-down

. . . how closely our kids watch everything we do and try to emulate it

. . . how hard, and how wonderful, it is to be so needed

. . . the number of strollers, big wheels, bikes, wagons and sports paraphernalia that can fit into one garage

. . . the amount of excitement generated by the word "park"

. . . that I now see nothing unusual about eating dinner with 20 stuffed animals & Barbies sitting on the table

. . . how forgiving children are

. . . how much fun it is to snuggle

. . . how much reading I can do without losing my voice

. . . the importance of "everyday moments"

. . . that on mother's day, the only thing I really care about is being with my husband and my kids - not having a break from them (I'll take a raincheck on the break, though!)

. . . the intangible rewards that are part of each day

. . . the terrifying responsibility that regularly drives me to my knees


Not as much an essay as a collection of thoughts, I guess. And I'm sure there are dozens I've left out - and many more surprises coming as the kids get older!

Random Gratitude

At this moment, I find myself thanking God for . . .

. . . Wednesday morning Bible study. The book we're going through is good, but not nearly as much of a blessing as our weekly discussions - which usually involve hard questions, lots of laughter, and delving into the Scripture for answers!

. . . warm sunny days.

. . . feeling like myself again, after about 2 months of fatigue/nausea and over 2 weeks of crazy allergies. It's the most wonderful thing to be able to smell my shampoo in the morning, to taste food, to not feel like my entire face is red and swollen, and to face the day with confidence and optimism. I'm also looking forward to being able to sit through an entire church service without any embarrassing coughing / nose-blowing episodes, and not having to lip-sync, due to losing my voice, the next time I'm on worship team!

. . . three bright, energetic munchkins who make sure our days are never short on laughter. The snapshots below give a glimpse into some of the craziness.

We've taken to calling Zekers "Mr. Random" because of just such moments as these. Today he insisted on wearing one of Rachel's winter hats to to the table. A couple of mornings ago, he climbed into bed with us and began head-butting Danny's chest for no apparent reason. You already know about his longing to wear tights. And every night he has the same "dream": Spiderman kills a scary monster in his closet by shooting it in the stomach with his web, and Spider Girl is chasing a baby pig. After lunch today, I was explaining to him why God doesn't always give us what we want. With a furrowed brow he answered, "Mommy, God needs to obey me!" I could go on . . . but enough for now!


We've begun calling Kari Bou "Little Babble Cakes" because she's always "talking" but it's anybody's guess what she's saying! She repeats everything we say very clearly, though, and has been saying more discernable words on her own. This is one of her famous poses - often repeated because it makes Rach and Zekers laugh, and she lives for laughter. (I do wonder, sometimes, if she's had one too many head injuries!) She also loves to kiss my stomach while I'm reading to her, and say "Kiss Baby." Which is probably why my stomach is usually glistening from snot and/or slobber.











Then there's Rachel. It may be hard to tell from this picture, but as I was taking it, she was debating me. I can't even remember about what. She has an answer for everything, and I'm afraid that by the time she's ten, she'll easily outsmart me! It cracks me up that in almost every picture, her mouth is open - usually because she's just got to get in one more comment, or because she's arguing. Both Danny and I have had some great conversations with her recently, though - much deeper than I ever thought we'd get with a 4-yr-old. She's also at that age where every "injury" gets brought up in children's church as a prayer request (even one that's several weeks old and no longer visible to the naked eye)!

. . . .I'm also thankful for the occasional day when the kiddos all take long naps!

Ya Gotta Laugh

Rachel: Look at my pretty tights.

Zekers: Mommy, I wanna wear tights.

Me: Sorry, Budders, you don't have any tights.

Zekers: But I really wanna wear tights!

Me: Well, you're never wearing them unless you're in a play that involves the words "Robin Hood."

Zekers: Why not?

Me: Because boys who wear tights are boys with scary issues.

Zekers: (matter-of-factly) But I have scary issues!!

Me: Well . . . you've got a point.

kepela

I take a deep breath before plunging headlong into what may be one of the most potentially explosive topics concerning Christian families today. The post title - kepela - seemed fitting in that it means "standing on opposite sides of the river". (OK, so it's an expression in Ku, a fictional language from the fictional African country of Matobo, created for the movie The Interpreter. Whatever. It works for me!)

Anyway.

I "happened" to read the following 2 quotes within several days of each other at the beginning of April, and have been wrestling with this issue ever since. In a few days (God willing, of course!), I hope to post some of my own thoughts regarding the book containing the 2nd quote. The reason it's taken me so long to write on this topic is that I honestly don't know what I think about all of it. I was pretty much leaning in one direction, and then the last 3 days happened, leaving my neat little theories in total disarray (I won't bore you with details). All I know at this point is that I am commiting the matter to serious prayer, and would welcome any thoughts pertaining to this topic.

Well, here goes . . .


Quote #1

"'Once I understood how much work it takes to have a career and raise a child at the same time, I pretty much decided one was all I could handle.' Correia says being a one-child family allows her the right balance. "It gives me the joy of being a mother, but it's not too overwhelming to the point where I don't have time for myself . . . We have to be a 2-income family. Having another child is financially just not an option for us,' she says."

"'If finances and circumstances ever allow, we might have another child,' (Laura Miller) says."

"Many onlies will ask . . . for a little brother or sister, or wonder aloud why they're stuck being an only child. . . Respond with something like 'We've decided that our family size is just right . . . ' With an older child you can point out that many of the advantages he enjoys as an only - his own, specially-decorated bedroom, for instance . . . may be things he wouldn't have with a brother or sister." (emphasis mine)

- from the article "Should You Have Another Child?" Parenting, February 2007


Quote #2

"The more children we have, the less things we can have. Maybe a shorter vacation, maybe no vacation, perhaps non-designer clothes, perhaps less snazzy cars - whoever heard of a nine-passenger Corvette?

"Our culture has more incentive to chase after material things than any preceding it . . . Prompted by 25 billion dollars a year of mass advertising, we tend to fall into the habit of giving ourselves more things rather than more children. As an acid test of the truth of this statement . . . ask ten people this question: 'If you could have one million dollars or one more child, which would you choose?' (p. 27)

"It is true that you cannot care for a dozen children. You in yourself cannot even care for one adequately. . . but with His help, i.e., the counsel of His Word, our ability is multiplied. We might say that He who provides the progeny also supplies the ability (p. 84).

"Will we exercise faith or not? Will we trust God to give us the perfect number of kids at the perfect spacing?" (p. 65)

- from A Full Quiver by Rick & Jan Hess

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?