He’s All Boy

When I picked up Harrison from school today, I noticed that the knees of his nice school jeans were bright green. My eyes then traveled to the knees of the little boy I babysit. What do you know! Same bright green! For some reason, their matching grass stained knees struck me as really funny, and I began to laugh. I saw my friend in the parking lot, and when I shared my observation with her, she pointed to her 2nd grade son’s knees. Yup, green too. A lady I don’t even know overheard our conversation and pointed out to us that her son’s knees were green as well! We all shared a good laugh and my friend said that they might as well just make boys’ jeans to have green knees! We then all noticed that every girl near us had completely clean knees! Every last one of them!

As I was driving home, I was thinking about what those grass stained knees show about the way God created boys. About the desire He gave them to be the fastest runner (I could name to you right now all of the top runners in Harrison’s class in order! According to his calculations, he is now in 2nd place:) ), to show off their strength (when Harrison sees his best buddies, the first thing they do is start wrestling), to be brave, to be tough.

On Saturday, the same friend that I saw in the parking lot stopped by my house and as always, our 2 boys immediately began climbing the tree in our side yard like 2 little bear cubs. Later Nick told me that a lady stopped her car and sweetly informed him, “Excuse me, Sir, did you know that your 2 babies are very high up in that tree?” Sure enough, they were a few feet from the top. Of our VERY tall Redwood. Nonchalantly, Nick blew it off by saying, “Oh, yah, I know they’re up there. They’re fine.”

Today on the phone I told my friend about this lady’s concern for our sons’ well-being, and she exclaimed, “That is what is wrong with this world today! People see boys higher than 6 feet up in a tree and they freak out! When did our society stop letting boys be boys? This is just detrimental!” A world full of wimpy, passive men would be detrimental, indeed.

So that means that for a decade (or maybe 2?) I’ll have to deal with pits dug in my backyard with shovels, grass stained knees, competitive races and bike tricks that make my palms sweat and my heart race. I have to admit that it has taken me awhile to accept these things. I grew up with only sisters so I’m just not used to this stuff! We played with dolls! We dressed up in our mom’s old bridesmaid dresses! At first seeing Harrison just above my head in our Olive Tree scared me to death. But Nick has done a good job teaching me that boys need to do these things. “It’s just what they do.”

I was a proud mama yesterday. A really sweet, lovely little girl from Harrison’s class is having a special birthday party during Spring Break at a ranch where the kids get to ride horse back on a trail ride. She only got to invite her 4 best friends, so she invited 3 other sweet girls from the class and………HARRISON!!! I couldn’t believe it! This sweet girl picked my rough and tumble son! It made me so proud of him to know that even though he can be competitive and wild, that he also must be kind and gentle to the girls at school for him to get such an invitation.

My prayer for my sons is that all throughout their lives they use the gifts of strength, speed and courage God has blessed them with to further His Kingdom, while treating people with kindness, gentleness and love.

Where do they come up with these things?!

As Harrison was getting ready for bed last night, he showed a sudden interest in adoption. He had a lot of questions for me…..

Do you have to pay money to adopt?

Who do you give the money to? To the kid you’re adopting?

Do I know anyone who was adopted?, etc, etc.

He finally announced that he is going to adopt a boy when he’s a dad. I told him that it is wonderful that he cares about kids without parents and that I am excited for him.

As I was tucking him in, he asked me if everyone who is adopted is a baby. I told him that a lot of people adopt babies, but sometimes older kids are adopted too. After thinking about it, he told me that he’s going to adopt a boy who is older than college age. Stifling a laugh, I asked him, “Why?”

“So then I don’t have to pay for him to go to Calvin College.”

I have no idea where this came from, but Nick and I got a good laugh out of it.

I wanted to ask him, “Then, what’s the point? If you’re not willing to raise him, train him, spend money on him, and sacrifice for him, then what is the point?” It made me think about how yes, raising kids costs money. Yes, raising kids takes time. A lot of it. (When I came downstairs from tucking in Grace tonight at 8pm, I felt exhausted and I realized that I had been with kids for  14 1/2 hours straight, as Andrew has been waking up at 5:30 every morning lately. And at 8pm I still wasn’t done, as Harrison wasn’t even in bed yet!) But if we weren’t willing to spend money on our kids, feeding them well, clothing them, providing them with health care, educating them……and if we weren’t willing to sacrifice our time, training, correcting, protecting, encouraging, teaching and loving…..then, what would be the point? What good would we be doing?

I’ve heard that the most worthwhile things in life aren’t easy. I guess that is why God  arranged for us to start raising our kids when they’re babies and not when they’re college age and already independent.

But yes, that does sound pretty easy.

PS: I wanted to let you know that my party Friday night was a huge success and I should be ready to share it with you tomorrow! Stay tuned!

Remembering His Abundant Goodness

Recently in my post “All for Him” I mentioned to you that on my way to New York City in January I spend some time prayerfully seeking God’s direction for this new year and making goals. (For some reason I prefer the term “New Years Goal” over “New Years Resolution.”)

One verse I came across during that time was

“I will express the memory of your abundant goodness.” Psalm 145

I thought to myself, “How can I express the memory of God’s abundant goodness if I’m not REMEMBERING His abundant goodness?”

While babysitting in college, the mom had forgotten her keys, and when she came back in to retrieve them she told me that women’s memories get worse after childbirth and I didn’t really believed her……until it happened to me. I used to have an amazing memory- now I scare myself by the things I forget. One of my friends said that when she delivered her baby, she also delivered her brain, and I feel the same way. But I’ve delivered my brain 3 times now. Not cool.

To give you a little glimpse of the problem, the other day I asked for help out after my weekly shopping trip to Trader Joe’s. I was carrying my wiggly toddler who decided he didn’t want to sit in the cart, while a kind man pushed my load of groceries. We’re walking up and down the aisles and I’m getting embarrassed and feeling a little awkward. Why can’t I find my van??? What is going on here? What is wrong with me? Am I at the right store? On the right planet? Finally I laugh and say aloud, “This is so weird! I know I parked right around here, but for some reason I just can’t find my blue mini van.” Grace pipes up in her sweet 5 year old voice, “But, MOMMY!!! You didn’t drive the VAN! You drove the JETTA!!” Oops. Sure enough, there was Nick’s silver Jetta right there in front of me. Post-Pregnancy Brain strikes again.

Anyways, so after reading that verse, I made it one of my goals for this year to record the things I am thankful for. For years I’ve kept a prayer journal, in which I’ve written out prayers to the Lord. In addition to that one, I bought a new notebook (of course I had to get a pretty one. How can I write what I’m thankful for in an ugly notebook??) and have placed it in my night stand. Over the past month and a half I’ve made it a habit most nights  before going to bed to quick jot down a few blessings from that day. Things like

*an encouraging e-mail I received

*a moment in which I could see character development in one my kids

*a fun, peaceful moment with my kids, like playing catch with Harrison or painting with Grace

*a great conversation with Nick

*beauty I saw in creation

*an answer to prayer

Some nights tons of things pop into my head, and I’m writing furiously. But I’m not gonna lie. Some nights its not as easy. But if I force myself to think hard, I can always think of at least something. And doing so helps me to go to bed with a grateful heart.

Another benefit I have found from it is because I start each sentence with “Thank-you for……….” it helps me to take any credit or pride I may have been feeling from any of those situations and to turn them into praise to the One to whom praise is due.

Hopefully writing down these examples of God’s abundant goodness will help me to remember them, despite my “post-pregnancy brain,” giving me opportunity someday to share them as a testimony to His beautiful love.

I was so excited when I found this notebook! It is bound nicely so the pages won’t fall out and it has some of my favorite colors. And the quote, “Show me a day when the world wasn’t new” seemed perfect for a thankfulness journal. I couldn’t find a price for it, so I asked the cashier if she could tell me how much it was, and when it rung up for just over $2 (clearance!!! wooo hooo!!!) I told her I’d take it. Her response? “You’d be ridiculous not to!”

I also loved the print on the inside cover!

Oh- I wanted to warn you- I may be a little quiet on the Blog-Front this week. No, I’m not lost in the Trader Joe’s parking lot, wondering which planet I’m on. I’m actually very busy planning for a special, fun event I am hosting at my house Friday night. I am super, SUPER excited about it (AHHHHHHH!!!!!!) and I can’t wait to share with you the details when it is all done! I’m thinking that a few of you might receive a little inspiration from it!

Some Colors Just Ain’t Pretty

I try to plan ahead and be organized so our days go smoothly. Sometimes this works out for me. Sometimes it doesn’t. The other day I got Andrew completely undressed for his bath when I realized that I had groceries from Trader Joes that still needed to be put away. My incredible helper, Gracie had been doing it for me, but she had just left with Nick. When I inspected what was left in the bags it was confirmed that these things couldn’t be left for later, lest I inflict my family with food poisoning. The thought of putting Andrew’s diaper back on crossed my mind, but then I decided that I could tackle the meat and dairy products quickly and that he would be fine on the tile floor in the kitchen for a couple of minutes. But as 14 month olds tend to do, he felt a need to show off his new walking skills, so he toddled over to the (fake) wood floors in the family room. After rushing to throw the last of the yogurts into the fridge, I ran over to get him. He gave me a big grin as a pile of poop fell to the ground, quickly covered with pee. My eyes widened as I saw Nick’s hours and hours of hard work covered with my baby’s excrements. I dashed away to grab some cleaning supplies as Andrew decided to turn on the television. (A habit of his that I do not enjoy.I hate having the television on, as the noise interrupts the quiet peace of my home that I so cherish. And he probably does it about 20 times a day. I’ve gotten smart and have been putting the TV on mute.) And the second he turned it on, Rachel Ray chose that exact moment to say the word “jack a**”. There is poop and pee on my nice floors. Rachel Ray is cussing at my baby and me. I think, “What kind of reality am I living in???” 2 minutes ago I thought I had it all together, and now I’m reminded of the crazy, unpredictable life that we lead as mothers of young children. No matter how perfectly we try to control our little worlds, a 14 month old can crash it all down in 2 seconds. I think a big part of parenting is learning to give up control to a certain extent and take what life throws (or squirts) at us and roll with it. I used the word “mosaic” in my blog title, and I think all of the little moments in our days are like different colored tiles, together creating a bigger more intricate picture. We don’t get to choose which colors we receive,  but we do choose to keep creating the mosaic, even if we’re handed tiles that are poop brown.