Every year on each of my children's birthdays I look through the baby book or scrapbook. Or pile of pictures that are going to become a scrapbook. Or pictures that someday I am going to actually print so I can pile them up and someday scrapbook them. And I am struck by how tiny they are. How much they have grown.
However, this year I was struck by a different thought while looking at pictures of my now ten year-old. I looked from his face, probably for the first time, to the face of the one holding him. The ten year-ago version of me. I noticed how young I looked. I turned back more pages. Yep. Even younger. More pages, same story. The whole way back to the first picture of a new, glowing, excited, exhausted mommy. And this time, instead of writing my sweet baby a letter for their birthday, I wished to reach out to her.
If I could, I would go back and tell her so much. I would tell her to relax. To enjoy. Oh, I know she knows that. I know that she made the most of everyday. She played. Laughed. Grasped each moment as best and as tightly as she could. But there was always more. Fear. Disappointment in herself. A struggle to know she was making the right choices. And there are so many, many choices. Everyday. Every child. Every minute. Sometimes she will feel like she is drowning in a sea of uncertainty.
Mostly, though, I would tell her that she is going to survive, because I know that she will not always feel like it or believe it.
There will be bumps and bruises. I know that she is going to drop her brand new baby at just a few days old from the couch in her exhaustion. She judges herself because she doesn't know how many mothers do that.
She will have to hold down a baby for testing. And a toddler. And a preschooler. And she will cry longer than they will. And she will remember it forever, even when they forget.
There will come a day that she is tired of being pregnant. And there will come a day that she wishes that she still was. And feeling either feeling is fine. And normal. And so are the tears. And one day, they will stop falling as hard. But they will still fall.
She is going to pace for hours overnight. She is going to pray in quite a few hospital rooms. She is going to meet more doctors than she can remember. She is going to stand in a hospital hallway while her heart is rolled away for surgery. More than once. And it will bring her to her knees. Literally. But she will breathe again.
She is going to hold more than one grubby hand while there are x-rays, stitches, staples, concussions, broken bones and close calls. And while it makes her queasy, she will not be sick.
There will be psychologists. Neurologists. Diagnoses. Autism. ADHD. But she will always know that she has the best children in the world.
Her husband will work away. At times far away. But he will be her rock. And she will need him so very much. And he will be there. And she may need to tell him why they fall, but he will dry her tears.
She will try to hold herself together through depression. And she will struggle to use her hand after a stroke. And she will get very angry when she misspeaks or stutters. But she will talk again. And she will use that hand again.
She will homeschool. And it will be fun. And exciting. And scary. And hard. And she will want to quit, but she won't. And it will be rewarding again. And even fun again. She is making the correct choice, but she won't always feel like it.
In that moment, in that snap shot of her young life, she is full of innocence. She does not know what the future holds. She does not know what is in store. And that is a good thing. Because it is overwhelming. At times it is unbearable. But it will make her strong. Stronger than she has ever been. Sometimes she won't even know it, but it is happening, everyday. Even this one.
Friday, September 5, 2014
Thursday, July 31, 2014
Top Ten Reasons...
that I am the biggest meanie weenie ever. According to the children in my house.
10. I will not let Micah walk to Grandma's house. He is almost two. It is several blocks away. She is not home. I am a jerk.
9. I do not agree that a long sleeve shirt would make a person feel cooler than a short sleeve shirt. In the summer. I know nothing about fashion. I may be ruining a young life as we speak.
8. I will not let my children carry around a dying baby bird and try to feed it crunched up worms mixed with spit. They already started collecting the spit. And the worms. And the dying baby bird.
7. Breakfast is not cookies. Or ice cream. Or cake. And we have no cookies. Or cake.
6. I will not let Micah eat a play dough pizza. Or play dough cookies. Or play dough cake. Or even play dough lumpy thing.
5. I make the kids read, play, go outside, and get creative before turning on any electronics. Even in the summer. Even on rainy days. Even when they just charged an iPod.
4. I do not want a pet snake. I will not allow my children to have a pet snake. As a matter of fact, I have placed a hold on any new pets until we have quite a few less pets than we do now. Be that by rehoming, death, or escape. And even then, probably no snake. I just don't want to have to feed it like I do with all the other pets my kids (and husband) have.
3. No one is allowed to have soda for breakfast. I have no soda in the house. We have juice. Water. Milk. Tea. Kool aid. Hot chocolate. Those are all gross. I must not have taste buds. At all.
2. I toss broken toys. All of them. Even if Dad can do magic, preform surgery, or has enough super glue. They will break again. Kids will cry again. Like a band aid, the quicker the better, just toss it and get it over with. Especially when it is in five or more pieces, is missing a wheel, and only has one handlebar. And used to be a finger bicycle.
1. I will not let the size five and six kids wear size two costumes to go jump on the trampoline. Even if it is the only ninja costumes they can find. No, black pants and black shirts will not work the same. Even though they would cover more skin because they fit.
And that is all just from today. Before lunch. I should have a much larger list by bedtime.
10. I will not let Micah walk to Grandma's house. He is almost two. It is several blocks away. She is not home. I am a jerk.
9. I do not agree that a long sleeve shirt would make a person feel cooler than a short sleeve shirt. In the summer. I know nothing about fashion. I may be ruining a young life as we speak.
8. I will not let my children carry around a dying baby bird and try to feed it crunched up worms mixed with spit. They already started collecting the spit. And the worms. And the dying baby bird.
7. Breakfast is not cookies. Or ice cream. Or cake. And we have no cookies. Or cake.
6. I will not let Micah eat a play dough pizza. Or play dough cookies. Or play dough cake. Or even play dough lumpy thing.
5. I make the kids read, play, go outside, and get creative before turning on any electronics. Even in the summer. Even on rainy days. Even when they just charged an iPod.
4. I do not want a pet snake. I will not allow my children to have a pet snake. As a matter of fact, I have placed a hold on any new pets until we have quite a few less pets than we do now. Be that by rehoming, death, or escape. And even then, probably no snake. I just don't want to have to feed it like I do with all the other pets my kids (and husband) have.
3. No one is allowed to have soda for breakfast. I have no soda in the house. We have juice. Water. Milk. Tea. Kool aid. Hot chocolate. Those are all gross. I must not have taste buds. At all.
2. I toss broken toys. All of them. Even if Dad can do magic, preform surgery, or has enough super glue. They will break again. Kids will cry again. Like a band aid, the quicker the better, just toss it and get it over with. Especially when it is in five or more pieces, is missing a wheel, and only has one handlebar. And used to be a finger bicycle.
1. I will not let the size five and six kids wear size two costumes to go jump on the trampoline. Even if it is the only ninja costumes they can find. No, black pants and black shirts will not work the same. Even though they would cover more skin because they fit.
And that is all just from today. Before lunch. I should have a much larger list by bedtime.
Wednesday, February 12, 2014
Advice
A few days ago I noticed
something on Facebook. At least three of
my friends posted something about their children that was either humorous or as
a way of “venting”. None of those posts
were things that should make the children feel bad, or reflect on the parents
in any way. It was just a fact of life
of parenting. I may not even need to
mention that each post was about a son.
And something that said son did that was amazing. Not a good kind of amazing.
The thing that I noticed was that
on each post someone felt the need to either provide parenting advice or tell
the poster why the behavior was wrong.
And that is common on the internet.
We assume that anyone and everyone is just waiting for us to spout out
our advice as if it were the answer that they have been waiting for so long to
hear. We assume that if we did not post
our thoughts about reducing caffeine, or sugar, or red dye this poor child is
destined to suffer. Or feel the need to
give advice on how to discipline an unruly child. That we have never met. In a situation we have only heard two
sentences about.
I am not saying that any of these
are necessarily bad suggestions. Or that I have never done this. Because I am sure that I totally must
have. And I am glad that the internet
was not all that old when I knew everything.
You know, before having children.
Because I would have looked like a jerk back then on some of the posts
that people exactly like me make today.
I just think that dispensing this kind of
advice over the internet shows that we do not understand the intent of the
person sometimes. There are places
online I go to find out more about parenting.
There are places I go to ask advice on specific situations. I have people in real life to talk to, and
several online friends from around the world that can help me out when I need it.
Other times I am not looking for
advice. These times I am just looking
for a parent-to-parent connection. And
maybe some hope. Or a parent that has
lived through raising children and will throw back their head and life when I
say things that my children have done.
So I feel less alone. Less
insane.
Sometimes, Internet, all I want
are comfort words. No actual
answers. I want to hear things like:
“Yes, cat whiskers grow back.”
“No, that missing eyebrow is
hardly noticeable.”
“No one has ever died from eating
a glow stick.”
“Poison control knows my child
too.”
“Yes, I have laughed at my child
throwing a fit. No regrets.”
“My child has also done
that. And lived.”
And that, Internet, is why I post
on Facebook about the time my son ate three Adrenaline Rush packets which
caused him to bounce around our house like a ping pong ball and then crash for
hours. Not to hear that I am negligent
by hiding them on the top shelf of the pantry behind other boxes without ever
thinking he could climb up there and get them while I was in the bathroom. Or how harmful it is for my child to jump
onto a trampoline from the garage roof. Or how I should have assumed that he would
stick dice, or an Orbee, or a napkin, or a piece of cheese, or Kool Aid powder
up his nose. Because I know all that. And Have learned to never go to the bathroom. Now. I
just want to know that I am not alone.
And that he will survive to adulthood.
And that I will too. And that
sometimes, it is completely alright to laugh at your child.
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
Today was a win.
Today was one of those days that a homeschool mom wishes for. No, there was no house cleaning fairy that slipped in and magically turned the house into a spotless wonder. The food did not magically jump into the crock pot. The kids did not refrain from fighting all day. Or even most of it. They did not remember to clean up after themselves. Actually, school work is still on the table. There are Legos on the floor. Squinkies and Zinkies are too. And some cracker crumbs. I did not wash the supper dishes. There was an argument before breakfast. None of those seemingly magical things occurred here today, but what did occur was just as awesome.
Two huge awesome things, actually. On the same day. Isaac has been struggling to read for years. We tried a traditional approach. We tried creative approaches. We wrote words in sand or shaving cream. We played word games. We fished for words from our word wall. We used flash cards, rewards, incentives, whatever we could. We tried it all. Twice. Nothing made it click. Until today. He picked up his reader and read a story. No crying, no hesitation, no sounding out words even. It clicked. He did it. There were even new words. Then he turned the page and did it again. Oh, I cannot say there were no tears, because I could not help myself. He finished flawlessly reading his story, turned those big brown eyes to me and I could see his pride. Satisfaction of a job well done. The labor was difficult, but the instant those big, brown, joyous eyes locked onto my tear-filled ones was worth every second.
I have no idea why it was today. There was nothing special. Nothing different. Nothing new. We did the same thing for the thousandth time. It just clicked, and like a rusty flood gate opening for the first time the result was a deluge. It was one of those moments that takes my breath away, where the ah-ha look in their eyes overshadows any difficulties getting there. But the day was not over yet. I got another of those moments!
Faith has had difficulties at school for, well, always. We have succeeded with some, and not quite yet with others. Something we have been working on is correctly forming letters and numbers. She has quite a high rate of backwards or malformed letters and numbers. If she is directly copying something it looks great. Left to form them on her own and it is hard to read at best. One thing that we noticed, actually that Angel noticed, is that she writes numbers correctly in the units and hundreds place consistently, but the tens place is always backwards. Even in number with the same digits. She would add things like 32 + 23 and have a backwards 5 and a normal 5. I have been marking her answers as right but making her practice forming the number correctly. I have written over the backwards ones in red. We have used sand, pudding, chalk, finger paint and a variety of other media to practice. Same results- backwards numbers in the tens place. Ever single time. Despite me pointing it out she never noticed it before. It was like she could not see the backwards numbers. She would lament that they all looked the same to her.
Today she was practicing before a test. She wrote the multiplication facts on the dining room mirror for several sets of numbers from memory. Then she stepped back and looked at the mirror. She moved closer, nose almost touching the mirror. She stepped back again. She turned around and said, "Hey, does anybody notice something wrong here?" I looked up to check her facts. They were correct. She said, "No, I mean all these numbers. I think they are backwards!" She erased them and wrote them correctly. On her test not one number was written backwards. For the first time ever.
A second ah-ha moment. Only a few minutes after the first. Two of our toughest problems. In one day. Years of blood, sweat, and tears came before. Literally. With an Aspie who has ADD and another ADHD one there were literal blood, sweat and tears. For long stretches at a time it would occur daily. On my part. On their parts.
But today, today was a good day. Today was a win. We never gave up. We never quit. And finally, after so much struggle, there was the fruit of our labor. And it was sweet. I know that tomorrow we may be back to struggles, maybe even the same struggles. That is the way life is. That is the way homeschooling is. That is the way life with special needs students is. But days like today, moments like these, the looks of pride, of wonder, of understanding, they stay with you. Those are the moments I hide in my heart. The moments I cherish and ponder. The moments that I take out on days that are not good. On the days where we have head banging, scratching and biting oneself. On the days where the tears are not the good kind.
Days like today linger. Days like today allow hope to fester. They allow us to hold onto the idea of success when it seems so far away. They are gifts from God, miracles that show us to keep fighting the good fight. Testaments to hard work, prayer, and God's mercy and grace. And as I head off to sleep tonight, our success still fresh in my mind and heart, I will rest well. And that rest is the kind much needed during this battle. A rest filled with joy, with hope, with anticipation, with the promise of another win on the horizon.
Two huge awesome things, actually. On the same day. Isaac has been struggling to read for years. We tried a traditional approach. We tried creative approaches. We wrote words in sand or shaving cream. We played word games. We fished for words from our word wall. We used flash cards, rewards, incentives, whatever we could. We tried it all. Twice. Nothing made it click. Until today. He picked up his reader and read a story. No crying, no hesitation, no sounding out words even. It clicked. He did it. There were even new words. Then he turned the page and did it again. Oh, I cannot say there were no tears, because I could not help myself. He finished flawlessly reading his story, turned those big brown eyes to me and I could see his pride. Satisfaction of a job well done. The labor was difficult, but the instant those big, brown, joyous eyes locked onto my tear-filled ones was worth every second.
I have no idea why it was today. There was nothing special. Nothing different. Nothing new. We did the same thing for the thousandth time. It just clicked, and like a rusty flood gate opening for the first time the result was a deluge. It was one of those moments that takes my breath away, where the ah-ha look in their eyes overshadows any difficulties getting there. But the day was not over yet. I got another of those moments!
Faith has had difficulties at school for, well, always. We have succeeded with some, and not quite yet with others. Something we have been working on is correctly forming letters and numbers. She has quite a high rate of backwards or malformed letters and numbers. If she is directly copying something it looks great. Left to form them on her own and it is hard to read at best. One thing that we noticed, actually that Angel noticed, is that she writes numbers correctly in the units and hundreds place consistently, but the tens place is always backwards. Even in number with the same digits. She would add things like 32 + 23 and have a backwards 5 and a normal 5. I have been marking her answers as right but making her practice forming the number correctly. I have written over the backwards ones in red. We have used sand, pudding, chalk, finger paint and a variety of other media to practice. Same results- backwards numbers in the tens place. Ever single time. Despite me pointing it out she never noticed it before. It was like she could not see the backwards numbers. She would lament that they all looked the same to her.
Today she was practicing before a test. She wrote the multiplication facts on the dining room mirror for several sets of numbers from memory. Then she stepped back and looked at the mirror. She moved closer, nose almost touching the mirror. She stepped back again. She turned around and said, "Hey, does anybody notice something wrong here?" I looked up to check her facts. They were correct. She said, "No, I mean all these numbers. I think they are backwards!" She erased them and wrote them correctly. On her test not one number was written backwards. For the first time ever.
A second ah-ha moment. Only a few minutes after the first. Two of our toughest problems. In one day. Years of blood, sweat, and tears came before. Literally. With an Aspie who has ADD and another ADHD one there were literal blood, sweat and tears. For long stretches at a time it would occur daily. On my part. On their parts.
But today, today was a good day. Today was a win. We never gave up. We never quit. And finally, after so much struggle, there was the fruit of our labor. And it was sweet. I know that tomorrow we may be back to struggles, maybe even the same struggles. That is the way life is. That is the way homeschooling is. That is the way life with special needs students is. But days like today, moments like these, the looks of pride, of wonder, of understanding, they stay with you. Those are the moments I hide in my heart. The moments I cherish and ponder. The moments that I take out on days that are not good. On the days where we have head banging, scratching and biting oneself. On the days where the tears are not the good kind.
Days like today linger. Days like today allow hope to fester. They allow us to hold onto the idea of success when it seems so far away. They are gifts from God, miracles that show us to keep fighting the good fight. Testaments to hard work, prayer, and God's mercy and grace. And as I head off to sleep tonight, our success still fresh in my mind and heart, I will rest well. And that rest is the kind much needed during this battle. A rest filled with joy, with hope, with anticipation, with the promise of another win on the horizon.
Monday, December 31, 2012
A Year End Review
Every year I take a look back at all that the year brought and share a few highlights. Sometimes I focus on just the good, sometimes I focus on the most memorable, and other times I focus on the things that I have pictures of on Facebook. That is my life in a nutshell. Sometimes good, sometimes simply memorable, and other times I can't remember it all unless I am reminded. On Facebook. This year i will try to do a little of each.
We started the year with a family party that lasted until 6 AM. For most of us. Like me, and the big kids. January also brought snow, and David's third birthday. We had many days off in the first half of the school year and tried to buckle down and get things done in the second half. But I had extreme morning sickness often, so it was hard.
February rolled around, and we were still trying to push through school. We had a a nice visit from Uncle Dave, however I spend some of it in the hospital. More morning sickness. But the rest of the time was movies, games, the Science Center, and Chick Fil A.
March was another long month of morning sickness and school work. My school work, school work with the kids, and observation hours. We started up our homeschool co-op classes again, and the CLP play held auditions and began practices. We did community service, and lots of it! The days were getting much nicer as we prepared to have our Easter cantata and celebrate Easter.
April brought Easter, Honk Jr., a cantata, Remembering Adam show, and more co-op classes. April for us is always a time of performing! Andy had a few shows, too. My morning sickness was easing up and I was headed into a nice spring and beginning of summer without any problems other than being busy and tired.
May started with Honk Jr at CLP, the end of co-op, shows for Andy, and yet another behavior specialist for Faith. We had a huge yard sale and took a trip to the Creation Museum. We also got to catch a movie at Sarah and Anna's outside. School was finishing up for the kids and we were scrambling to complete things before the end of the month.
June was a fun month, and quite busy! Andy had shows, we finished school, and took a few mini vacations. First up, though, was a fun family day at my dad's power plant learning more about what he does and what the plant does to generate power. Contrary to my high school belief, he is not a spy. Or is that what he wants us to think?? We got to see Tony in Cats, we did community service, and we celebrated Father's Day early because Andy and Isaac went to Sandbox Camp. We had our year end evaluations. That was only half the month! After Sandbox Camp we took the kids camping for 11 days! We also got to see a Curve game. During camp my nice trouble free time of pregnancy wrapped up and I was taken by ambulance to the ER with heat exhaustion and the beginnings of my high blood pressure problems.
We came home from camp on July first only to turn around and take the girls back to Pony and Swim Camp. The boys and I had some fun while hey were gone. The week after picking the girls up my blood pressure became enough of a problem that I was on bed rest. for most of the month. Missing birthday parties, VBS, and summer. I did sneak to Spirit Fest, and one day of VBS to ward off the unending, mind numbing boredom of bed rest. And the messy house that I could do nothing about. We spend some time doing school early to keep the kids occupied, and Angel became the head chef of the Raehl household. I had an overnight hospital stay, and we did not get to have a birthday party for Faith.
August brought more hospital trips, and I finally had enough bed rest. We had a birthday party for Faith the first weekend, and on our anniversary we had our sweet Micah! I was finally feeling better, and got an awesome gift, my sweet son! The SC Raehl family came to meet Micah, and I began to dig our house out from under about five weeks of bed rest. We enjoyed the rest of summer with a trip to Lakemont, a family reunion, and began to look towards the new school year.
September came so fast! We celebrated the month's birthdays, including a trip to Slinky for Isaac's birthday. I began the kids school in full force, and my observation hours, too. We had a few field trips, and Andy had several shows. the girls began taking baton lessons. We were still trying to catch up from my bed rest.
October was just as busy with baton, co-op, classes at IUP, choir in preparation for Christmas, and youth group meetings. I had more observation hours, and the countdown to my student teaching is on! Angel had her birthday party and then we went bowling.
November rolled around with more of the same activities, plus Thanksgiving! And of course, Black Friday! Although my crew was thinned a bit this year we had a blast, as usual. Angel really enjoyed her second year, and I still had to call Josh for directions.
December brought snow, Christmas, and the end of this looong year. It is the first time that we have reached our halfway point before Christmas, so we celebrate by taking a long school break to prepare for Christmas. We made tons of cookies, wrapped presents, decorate, and then ended up in the hospital with Angel and a severe stomach virus. But it is the end of the year, we are beginning to feel better, and soon 2013 will bring more surprises, more joy, and more laughter. We are ready, bring it on 2013!!
We started the year with a family party that lasted until 6 AM. For most of us. Like me, and the big kids. January also brought snow, and David's third birthday. We had many days off in the first half of the school year and tried to buckle down and get things done in the second half. But I had extreme morning sickness often, so it was hard.
February rolled around, and we were still trying to push through school. We had a a nice visit from Uncle Dave, however I spend some of it in the hospital. More morning sickness. But the rest of the time was movies, games, the Science Center, and Chick Fil A.
March was another long month of morning sickness and school work. My school work, school work with the kids, and observation hours. We started up our homeschool co-op classes again, and the CLP play held auditions and began practices. We did community service, and lots of it! The days were getting much nicer as we prepared to have our Easter cantata and celebrate Easter.
April brought Easter, Honk Jr., a cantata, Remembering Adam show, and more co-op classes. April for us is always a time of performing! Andy had a few shows, too. My morning sickness was easing up and I was headed into a nice spring and beginning of summer without any problems other than being busy and tired.
May started with Honk Jr at CLP, the end of co-op, shows for Andy, and yet another behavior specialist for Faith. We had a huge yard sale and took a trip to the Creation Museum. We also got to catch a movie at Sarah and Anna's outside. School was finishing up for the kids and we were scrambling to complete things before the end of the month.
June was a fun month, and quite busy! Andy had shows, we finished school, and took a few mini vacations. First up, though, was a fun family day at my dad's power plant learning more about what he does and what the plant does to generate power. Contrary to my high school belief, he is not a spy. Or is that what he wants us to think?? We got to see Tony in Cats, we did community service, and we celebrated Father's Day early because Andy and Isaac went to Sandbox Camp. We had our year end evaluations. That was only half the month! After Sandbox Camp we took the kids camping for 11 days! We also got to see a Curve game. During camp my nice trouble free time of pregnancy wrapped up and I was taken by ambulance to the ER with heat exhaustion and the beginnings of my high blood pressure problems.
We came home from camp on July first only to turn around and take the girls back to Pony and Swim Camp. The boys and I had some fun while hey were gone. The week after picking the girls up my blood pressure became enough of a problem that I was on bed rest. for most of the month. Missing birthday parties, VBS, and summer. I did sneak to Spirit Fest, and one day of VBS to ward off the unending, mind numbing boredom of bed rest. And the messy house that I could do nothing about. We spend some time doing school early to keep the kids occupied, and Angel became the head chef of the Raehl household. I had an overnight hospital stay, and we did not get to have a birthday party for Faith.
August brought more hospital trips, and I finally had enough bed rest. We had a birthday party for Faith the first weekend, and on our anniversary we had our sweet Micah! I was finally feeling better, and got an awesome gift, my sweet son! The SC Raehl family came to meet Micah, and I began to dig our house out from under about five weeks of bed rest. We enjoyed the rest of summer with a trip to Lakemont, a family reunion, and began to look towards the new school year.
September came so fast! We celebrated the month's birthdays, including a trip to Slinky for Isaac's birthday. I began the kids school in full force, and my observation hours, too. We had a few field trips, and Andy had several shows. the girls began taking baton lessons. We were still trying to catch up from my bed rest.
October was just as busy with baton, co-op, classes at IUP, choir in preparation for Christmas, and youth group meetings. I had more observation hours, and the countdown to my student teaching is on! Angel had her birthday party and then we went bowling.
November rolled around with more of the same activities, plus Thanksgiving! And of course, Black Friday! Although my crew was thinned a bit this year we had a blast, as usual. Angel really enjoyed her second year, and I still had to call Josh for directions.
December brought snow, Christmas, and the end of this looong year. It is the first time that we have reached our halfway point before Christmas, so we celebrate by taking a long school break to prepare for Christmas. We made tons of cookies, wrapped presents, decorate, and then ended up in the hospital with Angel and a severe stomach virus. But it is the end of the year, we are beginning to feel better, and soon 2013 will bring more surprises, more joy, and more laughter. We are ready, bring it on 2013!!
Friday, December 28, 2012
Top Ten Things I Learned this Christmas
With all the excitement of the holidays, the rush of preparation, and the worry over sickness I have found that there are a few things that I learned this Christmas that I was least expecting...
10. Isaac knows where everything is. Because he takes it. This inlcudes things from my purse, like change, gum, and flashlights.
9. If a kids says that they dropped your purse, take out the compact. It is most likely broken and will cover everything in a fine powder.
8. Preschoolers can survive for days on cookies. And candy. At least it feels like days.
7. When your never really sick child says I need to go to the hospital, go. Immediately.
6. When wrapping presents with a preschooler do it right before giving the gift. That way they don't let slip what you got someone. Repeatedly. Or ask them if they opened the 'whatever' yet.
5. It is a good idea to practice gift giving behavior. For example, one should never say, "Here I got you this bow tie. Merry Christmas".
4. Kids will ALWAYS surprise you in many ways. When you least expect it.
3. Multicultural Christmas celebration unit studies will enable your preschooler to shout out equal holiday festivity messages for the parade, including Happy Hannuak, Happy Kwanza, Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and Live Long and Prosper.
2. While I can entertain myslef for quite a while with only the things I have in my purse (crayons, pens, small toys, half a deck of cards) there is nothing of actual value in there in case of an emergency (like money, change, a coffee maker, or pizza).
1. When you least expect it God turns the worst situations into miracles. You just have to be looking for it.
10. Isaac knows where everything is. Because he takes it. This inlcudes things from my purse, like change, gum, and flashlights.
9. If a kids says that they dropped your purse, take out the compact. It is most likely broken and will cover everything in a fine powder.
8. Preschoolers can survive for days on cookies. And candy. At least it feels like days.
7. When your never really sick child says I need to go to the hospital, go. Immediately.
6. When wrapping presents with a preschooler do it right before giving the gift. That way they don't let slip what you got someone. Repeatedly. Or ask them if they opened the 'whatever' yet.
5. It is a good idea to practice gift giving behavior. For example, one should never say, "Here I got you this bow tie. Merry Christmas".
4. Kids will ALWAYS surprise you in many ways. When you least expect it.
3. Multicultural Christmas celebration unit studies will enable your preschooler to shout out equal holiday festivity messages for the parade, including Happy Hannuak, Happy Kwanza, Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and Live Long and Prosper.
2. While I can entertain myslef for quite a while with only the things I have in my purse (crayons, pens, small toys, half a deck of cards) there is nothing of actual value in there in case of an emergency (like money, change, a coffee maker, or pizza).
1. When you least expect it God turns the worst situations into miracles. You just have to be looking for it.
A Christmas to Remember
Every year I do the same thing. I begin planning on how to create the best Christmas ever. Not with gifts or decorations. Not with expensive items or over the top activities. But with family. With friends. With purpose. One that allows us to say, "That was the year we..." with fondness. With joy. With hearts set on giving. On sharing.
We bake and give away cookies. We ring the bell for the Salvation Army. We collect hats and gloves, or coats, or toys. We adopt a family. We make treats for friends. We spend time together. We serve. We laugh. We visit grandparents. Many of those create traditions. Some of those give us those memories. All have made our kids, or us as parents, say that it was memorable.
This year, however, was different. It will not be those same things that we remember. Not the cookies we gave away, the service projects we did, the crafts we made, or the fun we had. It will be in what was given to us, to me, that will tell the story of this Christmas.
We prepared as always. A busy season with parties, cookies, crafts, more parties, and finding ways to serve. We shopped, we caroled, we wrapped, we laughed, we made sure to serve others. We focused on THE gift given, not the gifts we would receive.
Christmas Eve morning Angel looked pretty rough when she woke up, and complained that she was not feeling well. She got sicker as the day wore on, and we decided that we could not risk getting others sick. We decided to stay home from the family parties, meeting with my grandparents later to exchange gifts. She looked worse and worse, and felt the same. She could not keep any food down. Finally she looked at me and said, "I need to go to the hospital." She was having severe pains in her right side, had not kept food down since lunch the day before, and was shaking.
I hurried to get ready, thinking that we would go over and they would give her something to stop the vomiting, maybe IV fluids for a few hours, and we would be home. I was not prepared for CT scans, blood work, and an ambulance ride to a larger hospital to see a surgeon. They thought for most of the night that it was her appendix. Three rounds of blood work, two bags of fluids, and one long night later it was evident that the problem was a severe virus, not her appendix. We were relieved to not have surgery, sad to be in the hospital, and exhausted.
Our Christmas was not ruined, however. Every time someone came into her hospital room for any reason, they gave her a small gift. Many of the gifts kept her distracted. They were donated by local churches. There were coloring books, puzzle books, paint sets, stuffed animals, and some candy. During the few hours of sleep I got Santa visited with a sack of toys. She got a large stuffed bear, a pillow pet, a puzzle, and some craft sets. She hung onto that bear the rest of her stay, squeezing it during blood work. She clutched it when the surgeon came in to give us results. She hugged it when they announced no surgery. We got to play X Box in the hospital. The nurses were all wonderful, bringing us anything they could to help us settle in and trying to give us a bit of Christmas.
At home, Andy struggled with the kids who were scared and sad. Faith did not want to sleep in her room looking at Angel's empty bed. Isaac was afraid for her and offered his room to Faith. David missed his best friend Angel and his Mommy who both read to him at bedtime and tuck him in. Micah missed his Mommy all night like any nursing infant would. Daddy was there to keep everyone together, even when his heart was with us in the hospital. And Santa came. My dear children grabbed their stockings and got ready to head out the door to bring Christmas to Angel. They grabbed her stocking and headed to see us, not a peep about the presents they past to leave the house.
This was my Christmas miracle this year. Strangers seeing our need and meeting it in the form of small gifts. A stuffed animal. A tooth brush. A can of Pepsi. A cup of coffee. A puzzle. The gifts of people who did not even know we were there but wanted anyone stuck in the hospital on Christmas to know love. The children who past by their own presents in a rush to get to their sister, to their mother.
You see, for years we have talked about the meaning of Christmas. We have done projects to serve others. Form soup kitchens to coat drives. From park clean up to community events my children have served. At times they have served instead of participating. They painted faces instead of attending the party. They picked up trash in the park instead of play there. And when it came right down to it, they not only gave of themselves on Christmas, missing their own presents for a while, but they also got to receive the gifts of others. Angel was ministered to in ways that she usually ministers. And they got to see that there are others who serve. Who love. And in days that seem so very dark at times, this is the best kind of light.
We bake and give away cookies. We ring the bell for the Salvation Army. We collect hats and gloves, or coats, or toys. We adopt a family. We make treats for friends. We spend time together. We serve. We laugh. We visit grandparents. Many of those create traditions. Some of those give us those memories. All have made our kids, or us as parents, say that it was memorable.
This year, however, was different. It will not be those same things that we remember. Not the cookies we gave away, the service projects we did, the crafts we made, or the fun we had. It will be in what was given to us, to me, that will tell the story of this Christmas.
We prepared as always. A busy season with parties, cookies, crafts, more parties, and finding ways to serve. We shopped, we caroled, we wrapped, we laughed, we made sure to serve others. We focused on THE gift given, not the gifts we would receive.
Christmas Eve morning Angel looked pretty rough when she woke up, and complained that she was not feeling well. She got sicker as the day wore on, and we decided that we could not risk getting others sick. We decided to stay home from the family parties, meeting with my grandparents later to exchange gifts. She looked worse and worse, and felt the same. She could not keep any food down. Finally she looked at me and said, "I need to go to the hospital." She was having severe pains in her right side, had not kept food down since lunch the day before, and was shaking.
I hurried to get ready, thinking that we would go over and they would give her something to stop the vomiting, maybe IV fluids for a few hours, and we would be home. I was not prepared for CT scans, blood work, and an ambulance ride to a larger hospital to see a surgeon. They thought for most of the night that it was her appendix. Three rounds of blood work, two bags of fluids, and one long night later it was evident that the problem was a severe virus, not her appendix. We were relieved to not have surgery, sad to be in the hospital, and exhausted.
Our Christmas was not ruined, however. Every time someone came into her hospital room for any reason, they gave her a small gift. Many of the gifts kept her distracted. They were donated by local churches. There were coloring books, puzzle books, paint sets, stuffed animals, and some candy. During the few hours of sleep I got Santa visited with a sack of toys. She got a large stuffed bear, a pillow pet, a puzzle, and some craft sets. She hung onto that bear the rest of her stay, squeezing it during blood work. She clutched it when the surgeon came in to give us results. She hugged it when they announced no surgery. We got to play X Box in the hospital. The nurses were all wonderful, bringing us anything they could to help us settle in and trying to give us a bit of Christmas.
At home, Andy struggled with the kids who were scared and sad. Faith did not want to sleep in her room looking at Angel's empty bed. Isaac was afraid for her and offered his room to Faith. David missed his best friend Angel and his Mommy who both read to him at bedtime and tuck him in. Micah missed his Mommy all night like any nursing infant would. Daddy was there to keep everyone together, even when his heart was with us in the hospital. And Santa came. My dear children grabbed their stockings and got ready to head out the door to bring Christmas to Angel. They grabbed her stocking and headed to see us, not a peep about the presents they past to leave the house.
This was my Christmas miracle this year. Strangers seeing our need and meeting it in the form of small gifts. A stuffed animal. A tooth brush. A can of Pepsi. A cup of coffee. A puzzle. The gifts of people who did not even know we were there but wanted anyone stuck in the hospital on Christmas to know love. The children who past by their own presents in a rush to get to their sister, to their mother.
You see, for years we have talked about the meaning of Christmas. We have done projects to serve others. Form soup kitchens to coat drives. From park clean up to community events my children have served. At times they have served instead of participating. They painted faces instead of attending the party. They picked up trash in the park instead of play there. And when it came right down to it, they not only gave of themselves on Christmas, missing their own presents for a while, but they also got to receive the gifts of others. Angel was ministered to in ways that she usually ministers. And they got to see that there are others who serve. Who love. And in days that seem so very dark at times, this is the best kind of light.
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