Pulling Weeds

So I often have "mommy guilt" over the fact that it seems like all I ever do is correct my children.  When I'm not correcting, I'm mostly moralizing (as in, someone (on TV, in a book, in real life, etc.) does something and so we discuss how that action was foolish or unkind or whatever...or the flip side - what they did was very kind, generous, wise, etc.).  Sometimes it's little things ("AJ, get your finger out of your nose.").  Sometimes it's not ("Joanna, stop eating Styrofoam/rocks/sticks/mulch/barrettes").  But it's a constant part of my day.  I feel like the other moms aren't constantly correcting their kids and I worry that I'm too hard on mine.

Today, while Lucy was sleeping and the bigger two were playing in the pool, I was working on this plant that is infesting our yard.  We have no idea what it is.  It is growing _through_ one of our trees (as in parasitically pretending to be branches on this tree - growing up between bark and trunk or in between rings) in addition to popping up EVERYWHERE in our yard.  It has a woody root and is VERY fast-growing, but the branches are more like a flower or tomato plant (non-woody and slightly furry).  If you happen to know what it is, feel free to let me know, but I'll warn you in advance about doing a Google search for anything that includes the words "weed" and "growing."

Not that I've done that.

Ahem....so there are plenty of blogs out there that can and will take every experience and relate it to God somehow.  It's amazing sometimes, mostly because I doubt that the folks who write those blogs would speak that way normally, and since my writing style is very much conversational, I feel rather fake following suit.  That tends to lead me to assume that _they're_ being fake, but that's my own issue to deal with, not theirs.

Anyway.....so this story isn't like that.  I'm not telling you that _your_ life is like my lawn.  No.  This story isn't about you, it's about me.  And that's what makes it ok somehow for me to tell.  You see, as I was digging these plants out, getting as much of the root as I could in each instance (working with a broken shovel, which adds a whole new level to this metaphor), I really felt like God was telling me that this was my work - to root out those character flaws that are inherent to my children and to teach them the right way to go (morally, socially, fiscally, etc.).  It's a seemingly endless task of hard, hot, backbreaking work (especially given the broken tool that I have to work with (that would be myself in the metaphor)).  Every time it seems like I've gotten an area clear, I look up and see dozens more sprouting up.  Sometimes I almost miss one because it's hiding in the grass.  Sometimes the lawn gets mowed and it looks like they're gone for a while.  Sometimes the roots go straight down.  Sometimes they fan out just a few inches below the surface.  Sometimes the smallest plants come from the biggest roots and sometimes the biggest plants come from the smallest roots.

But just like I could never eradicate the weeds if I stopped weeding, I'll never "train up my children" without the correction.  And if I were to stop, even just for a time, those weeds would make WAY more headway than if I just battle them constantly and consistently.

So I'm letting go of that bit of "mommy guilt" today.  It may get tiring, but at least one of my jobs right now is to root out all those weeds just as soon as their ugly heads pop up in the little garden that we've been given.

Shoeboxes!

So it's National Collection Week for Operation Christmas Child.  Our church's official "turn in your box" day was Sunday, so I gave it a few days to let the last of the stragglers come in, then I picked them up today (all 109 of them!) after our MOPS steering team meeting.  I dropped Joanna off at home with the babysitter before taking AJ with me to the collection site.  Prior to leaving the house, I pulled out one of the boxes that our family had packed and we prayed over it, just like last year.  Except this year I knew better than to talk about the individual things that were in it and how much fun the boy or girl who got that box would have with them.  And that was when the tears came.  Again.

Since last year, I'd collected all sorts of little things - kids meal toys, small gifts given in multiples to my kids (we kept one), a few little things left over from some random stuff given to our MOPS group (stamps, magnets, etc.), the hard candy from the kids' Halloween bag, etc.  And I'd bought a couple of things - dish sets from Ikea (plate, cup, bowl, and utensils in six colors, so there were six sets which made our goal this year to fill six boxes so that one set could go into each), and a few puzzles and the Target Dollar Spot.  We had an overflowing reusable grocery bag full of stuff to put into boxes.  And there had been JUST enough boxes left over when the church seemed to stop taking them for us to have our six (four of which I didn't even wrap - and considering that I wrapped 61 this year, that's saying something)!

On the day I set aside for us to fill our boxes, AJ did GREAT.  He was the one who did most of the packing (with a _little_ direction from Mama, but really not a whole lot).  Joanna we had to keep an eye on as emptying things is her current favorite activity, but even she didn't do too badly (it helped that they each got a Target Dollar Spot puzzle too - that I gave them as a distraction when we _started_ the packing instead of at the end like last year).  While there were a few exclamations of "I have this toy" (typically the truth - we purged a LOT of duplicates from the toy bin), there was no question of where the things needed to go, just which box to put them in.

The problem came when we needed to bring the boxes out to the car.  Because, even though he understood that the TOYS were for the children who didn't get Christmas presents, somehow AJ had determined that the BOXES needed to go under OUR Christmas tree.  RIGHT NOW.  Never mind that we don't have a tree yet.  Never mind that we'd just spent an hour filling the boxes with stuff for other kids.  No...shoe boxes went under Christmas trees.  Specifically OURS.

Once the boxes were out of sight at church with all the rest, the discussion ended (yay for "out of sight, out of mind!").  Until we filled our car with the 109 boxes that our church and MOPS group had collected (including our six).  Then AJ started talking again about how the boxes were going to go under our tree.  When I corrected him, explaining that God had blessed us so that his daddy and grandparents and I could more than take care of him this Christmas/birthday but the boys and girls who didn't have enough maybe even for food would get these shoe boxes, well, that started the waterworks.

Le sigh....maybe at "almost 5" he'll be old enough to understand true, selfless generosity.  At least this year it wasn't about the toys.  And the way to make him happiest this Christmas will be to put whatever toys he's given into a shoe box-sized package (nice that he's still mostly easy-to-please - although we've DEFINITELY heard more "I wants" this year than ever before).

But I'm still proud of my little man.  Giving away something that you want for yourself is never easy, especially when you really just don't understand why.  But he was brave and did a great job helping to carry boxes into the collection site.  And he got to go inside McDonalds with mama afterward to have lunch.  So I think that all is right again in his world.

Surprises

So the other day, AJ announced, "Look, Mommy!  I drew my name!"

So I looked on the paper and, sure enough, there were the letters "A" and "J," clear as a bell.

And knowing that I have done no such instruction, I asked (several times) if his babysitter had been practicing with him.  "Nope" (each time I asked).

And to make sure it wasn't a fluke (or that maybe the babysitter had written it earlier that day and he was just mistakenly taking credit for it), I asked him to do it again.

And he did it again.  Then he drew a picture over it.

So I had him do it again.

And again he scribbled over it after he was done and before I could get the camera.

So I had him do it AGAIN and then I snatched the paper away from him while I found the camera.

Then I took this:

Don't mind the dirty face.  He'd just finished dinner.

Too Much TV

So I'm beginning to think that our kids watch too much TV (and by "TV" I really mean mostly DVDs as we gave up on the ever-changing PBS line-up many moons ago). Do I think this because the first thing my son says when he gets out of bed in the morning and after his nap is "I wanna watch a moooooo-vie on the TV?" No...that's not it. Is it because the TV is pretty much on the entire time that someone (other than myself) is awake and at home? Nope. That's not it.

There are actually two reasons that I think our kids watch too much TV:

1) AJ, who has always laughed when he heard other people laughing (that's a good thing, right? "Rejoice with those who rejoice?"), joins in pretty much every time he hears a "bad guy" laugh at someone else's hardship/situation. And he's started using an "evil" laugh too. Larry the Cucumber falls down and the "mean" characters laugh at him? AJ "laughs" too. With an angry smirk on his face and some gravel to his voice. No amount of, "Buddy, it's not very kind to laugh when someone has fallen down" seems to make any difference. He still does it. I guess the saving grace is that he has yet to do it in real life. And it's not like we watch "bad" movies. We're talking VeggieTales here. That's like watching the Bible on TV.

2) Joanna is both scared witless and fascinated by tall, thin characters that lean towards the viewer. She screams like a banshee whenever a "scary" character comes on (not necessarily a "bad" guy, just scary to her), but no amount of reassurance or distraction will keep her eyes from being riveted to the screen. As she screams. Like a banshee. So Jafar when he becomes a genie in Aladin? Scream. Goliath the pickle from VeggieTales? Scream. (She doesn't even have to see the pickle itself...just hear the music leading up to his coming.) Mr. Nezzer's Grandma in the Easter Carol (NOT a "bad" character). Scream, climb up mama, not to get away, but to get turned around so she can see more and scream longer.

So we put up with the whining when I tell AJ to play instead of watching a movie. We try to limit him to a couple a day. We use the excuse "Daddy will be home soon" earlier and earlier each day. We let his over-reaction to a scratched DVD be an excuse to turn it off. We make sure he puts the one in the DVD player away first before he can get another one out (which sometimes takes all day if he's lost the box).

And yet we still end up watching TV too much. At least we mix it up with JellyTelly from time to time! Maybe AJ should give up DVDs for Lent.

Successes and Random Animalia

So last night, our little ones gave me two blessings:
1) Joanna slept until 5:30!!!!!!  I got like SIX hours of uninterrupted sleep!!!
B) While his timing was impeccable (he woke up at 6:30 to tell me this, so I'd been back asleep for less than an hour), AJ _woke_up_ to tell me that he needed to go potty.  Then he got up, sat on the potty, peed (in a timely fashion), got re-dressed, got back in bed, and went back to sleep!  Not without help, but still.  He might not be in pull-ups forever after all!

Then, after I got them into the car to go pick up CaptainConundrum and get to work, I brought the trash out to the dumpster.  The sides were closed, so I opened one of them and got the scare of my life.  Immediately, a squirrel (who'd apparently been trapped) tried to jump out of the opening.  But then saw me and freaked out and jumped back _into_ the dumpster while I screamed and jumped back.  But then he was scared to come out and I was scared to throw my trash in, so (after I re-collected my senses), I pounded on the outside of the dumpster enough that the squirrel made his escape (angrily chattering at me the whole time - like _I_ was the one who'd trapped him in the dumpster) and I was free to dump my trash.

It was quite exciting.

Getting Bolder

Apologies for any spelling mistakes.  Blogger used to have a spell-checker....it doesn't seem to anymore, for some reason.

Anyway....

Joanna's still not really "walking" yet (although she took her first steps a week or so ago), but she _is_ getting far more confident in letting go of things and standing without support.  She'll pull up on the coffee table, let go, twist her body around, and grab onto the couch.  Not far enough to require a step, but definitely a "step" in the right direction!

She's also hilarious when she's trying to reach something.  She'll pull up on the coffee table, then try to get to the entertainment center, but it's too far to reach, so she'll stretch out from the table as far as she can - arms fully extended, legs spread wide, reaching just as far as she can.  When she still can't reach, she'll usually let go of the table, stand there for a few seconds pondering her next move...........then squat down and finish with a crawl.  The pondering takes longer and longer as she gets more confident though, so I'm sure that any day now, she'll start trying more often to make it without crawling.  She _has_ tried once or twice, but that typically ends up with her on the floor anyway.

(AJ's sitting at his train table having a pretend conversation - it includes our typical him: "but I _want_ to" me: "but you still can't" and several "please"s and "thank you"s....in addition to the occasional "I _said_ please.")

I know some moms fear each new stage (crawling, walking, etc.), but these kids of mine have been so wonderful and wondrous in each new stage that even while I miss them being little, I can't help but look forward to each new day with them - seeing them learn new things and grow into actual little people!

Plus, when they learn to walk, there's less for me to carry!

Quiet...

So we made a whirlwind trip to NC for Thanksgiving/VNB's birthday - down Wednesday night, back up Thursday after lunch - ~12 hrs of driving in just over 24 hours. Why'd we bother coming back so quickly, you ask? Well, that's because VNB had to work not just yesterday, but this morning as well.

_I_ wanted to sit at home and not go anywhere or do anything - just be _us_, together, for a day without anything we had to do or anywhere we had to go (either individually or as a group).

Well, birthday boy trumps would-be-hermit wife, so we did the trip instead.

But out of gratitude (and since he knew I needed the break), VNB just walked in the door from work, checked something, grabbed the kids, and left until at least nap time. At which point they'll (theoretically) be quiet for a couple more hours.

So I've got the place to myself. No DVDs, no one to care for...plenty to do, but still....it's quiet....no little people underfoot. I can clean something and it actually has a chance at staying clean for a minute our two! (Or I can sit here on the couch under my blanket and write a blog post...you know...whichever is more important...)

I could fix a cup of tea and actually put it on the table without it spilling and/or scalding someone! Or even a glass of water!

I don't have to fix anyone's lunch!

Now to play on the computer until I actually relax, then get up and reclaim my territory with a happy, grateful, and peaceful heart....

Clothes vs. Toys vs. ...

So my SIL (disguised as my BIL) commented on my "what to get my family for Christmas this year" post. Since she raised a question that I think applies to more than her (and since I wasn't sure that she'd get my response if I only replied in the comments), I thought I'd dedicate an entire post to the question.

Basically, she stated that it sounded from my post like I'd rather the kids get clothes than toys this year. While that's true for the most part, it doesn't really capture all that's behind the scenes in that post. And since I think people think that I'm either:
a) overly-protective
b) overly-controlling
c) crazy
d) weird
e) all of the above
I wanted to explain a bit...

You see, my kids don't _need_ anything this year - they don't even really _want_ much (especially Joanna - pretty much you feed her, change her, let her sleep, and play with her occasionally and she's good). Plus, we live in a VERY SMALL condo that's already stuffed to overflowing with four people, a cat, a 55-gallon fish tank, a piano, and all the "stuff" that goes with all of that. At this point, more stuff is pretty much one of the largest sources of stress for (and between) me and VNB. Couple that with the fact that we both scored amazingly low (as in, I got a 0 and he got a 2, I think) on "Gift-giving" as our love language, and getting gifts just isn't important to us.

On the other hand though, we recognize that gift-giving is one way that people _OTHER_ than ourselves show us how much they love us and our kids and we don't want to completely take away that source of fulfillment for them. Nor do we want to deprive our kids of the "fun" of Christmas/birthdays (although we also don't want them to _expect_ gifts, but rather be grateful for any that come).

So, my solution thus far has been to post/email a list of the things that can be given to us which will make us (me) the least crazy while giving the most joy to (or meeting the thing that comes closes to a need for) the kids. Giving them a new VeggieTales DVD, for instance, will still add to the stuff that we have, but it will also give us another viewing option for when we're watching kids DVDs All. Day. Long. So I think the amount of craziness equals out. And while I really have no idea where we'd permanently store a board game for AJ, I also know that those will help him learn to count, which is rather high on my "to do" list at the moment (right now he can get to "eleben" sometimes).

But really, what would I _RATHER_ they have? I'd rather they get something small and you either give the rest of the money you would have spent to someone who really needs it, you save it (or give it to us to save) for someday when they want a car or to go to college or something. The kids aren't going to miss it either way.

The problem is going to come in when we have a bigger place (so I don't have that excuse anymore), but I still don't really want to them/us get any more stuff . We live in such a consumer culture. I _WANT_ my kids to learn to live simply (and _I_ want to be able to live simply) a) so that others might "simply live" (i.e., so that we can give more away), and b) so that they can learn from the beginning that gifts are something not that they are entitled to, but something which are completely unnecessary expressions of love and which should be accepted with gratitude, not expectation.

So that's what's going on in my head. Scary place, huh? It's not that we're ungrateful for any gift you would give us...I just want to maximize the joy it brings to us since I know that will maximize the joy you get in giving it.

The Fever

So Joanna's got "the fever" now too. Good thing, too, because otherwise she wouldn't have woken up at 11:15 which eventually reminded me that I hadn't posted yet today.

She woke up from her afternoon nap a little out-of-sorts and pretty much stayed that way all afternoon. She was VERY clingy and seemed tired. Then, about the time VNB got home, her fever got up to about 101, so we gave her some Motrin. After a quick nap on Daddy's chest, she hopped up, right as rain. Until bedtime. When she screamed like a banshee for most of an hour. Then woke back up about an hour later. Reminding me to post for today.

And we've come full circle.

The Silver Lining...

So here's the silver lining of the cloud of sickness we've been in this past week or so:

With Joanna nursing as much as she has, I've lost between five and ten pounds, putting me back at my pre-Joanna weight! There are still ten pounds to go to get to my pre-AJ weight ( and a _LOT_ of exercise/toning to get to my pre-pregnancy _shape_), but AJ was well over a year old before I was at this weight.

Woo hoo!

(And thanks to my FIL for pointing it out!)

See, I Told You So...

Remember when I did this to my smallest child? Well, you can tell me now how right I was...

(Nevermind the grumpy-looking Pirate behind her - he'd had a long night of making sure another little pirate (see below) didn't find his way into traffic.)

And here is her equally-cute older brother:

Now if only I could take Joanna from the next picture to put into that last one, and it'd be perfect!

Creating a Memory

It's been one of those mornings where I _know_ I got stuff done, and I _know_ it was important, but somehow I still _feel_ like nothing got accomplished. My kids ate a relatively-healthy breakfast, I got all of the laundry folded and put away (every last bit - nothing's sitting waiting for a hanger or socks to be matched), I put away some of the dishes (some still needed some more drying time), the kids and I all got dressed and I even got a shower.

I also managed to pull out our cat carrier for a friend who needed to borrow it. "No problem," I said. "It's just in the top of the kids' closet," I said. "I'll pull it out and have it for you, no problem," I said. Little did I realize how well the top of the closet was packed. Inside the collapsed carrier were all of our small photo albums, a few other random things, and all of VNB's old Bibles - i.e., the sucker was HEAVY). In front of the cat carrier were all of our Christmas ornaments and random Christmas dancing and singing things (Santa who plays the sax, snowman who sings something, polar bear, and a couple of random "Christmas" stuffed animals). I hoped that I'd be able to pull the carrier out without having to move anything, but the geometry of the situation told me otherwise. Then I hoped that just by pulling the other stuff off of that shelf (i.e., the Christmas stuff), I'd be able to pull it out (at that point at least it would be in front of the closet door), but no dice there. So then I had to start moving the stuff that was stacked up (very neatly) _next_ to the shelf - VNB's collection of Christmas village, all in its original packaging for safe storage (plus my Christmas Veggie Tales snow globe). So I pulled all of _that_ down, managed to pull the 500-lb cat carrier across the shelf (over occasional bumps from shelf supports) and far enough into the opening to be able to get it down.

The whole time I was doing this, and becoming increasingly frustrated, AJ was finishing up on the potty. After finishing his business, he came in, pants still around his ankles to investigate what Momma was doing. After telling him calmly to go back into the bathroom and pull up his pants a couple of times (the idea being that he doesn't _leave_ the bathroom without pulling them up), he managed to get his underwear up, but not the pants (which are a smidge too long, so he was stepping on cuffs). About the time I got the cat carrier to the point where I could attempt to bring it down, he was crowding my space - with his pants still around his ankles. So not only was he not obeying by getting his pants pulled up, he also wasn't obeying as I was telling him repeatedly to back up (just in case I lost control of some or all of the cat carrier and/or its contents). And in my defense ("why didn't you just go help him?"), I was up on a chair with all the contents of the closet packed around me, trying to remember where it all went so that I could get it all to fit back in there.

So with only a few photo albums dive bombing me, I managed to get the cat carrier down and into Joanna's crib. Then I managed to get everything else back up into the closet. During which time AJ was still struggling with his pants and probably crying because I was yelling at him to pull up his pants and back up (is it bad that I don't even remember if he was or not?).

On the plus side, I found some pictures I'd promised to show some friends a long time ago! And I got the cat carrier down. And eventually we got AJ's pants pulled back up.

But that was my morning. And even though it just took me like fifteen pages to explain what I did this morning, it still feels like I didn't accomplish anything. (And now I'm at work and blogging instead of getting stuff done here...)

But my "Sanctuary's In the Small Things" task for the day is to create a memory. This morning isn't something I want to remember, but last night was. So _technically_, I didn't perform the _task_ on the right day, but I'm recording it for posterity so that I actually _remember_ it today, so I think I should still get my 40 points. :)

So last night I sent AJ to bed instead of going in with him, singing to him, and "saying Amen" (i.e., praying). An hour later when VNB and I were going to bed, he was still awake, so I went in and did our usual routine. Except that I told him to sing with me. We have a repertoire of all of three songs for bedtime (all three of which we usually sing at least once each night), so he's heard them all a "few" times now. It was the most adorable thing (and I know that it's true because VNB took like five trips to and from the bathroom during that song just so he'd have the excuse to walk past the door and listen). He wasn't on pitch, and usually he'd sing an intelligible word a phrase or two after I'd already sung it...but he was singing _with_ me. All the way down to the "yeah" at the end of "God is Bigger than the Boogy Man" (a recent addition to our repertoire, due to our first "I'm scared of the monsters" pre-bedtime event). Probably the best part about it too is that he really seemed to enjoy it and was definitely focusing on singing. You could see the wheels turning as he thought about what words came "next."

I did better in my description of the cat carrier incident, but this memory is one of the sweetest yet since I've been a mommy. My boy, singing. Knowing by heart that "God is bigger than the boogy man," that "there is nothing I can't do when God is at my side," and that "a thankful heart is a happy heart!" Sweet.

So even if I accomplish nothing else today (which would be bad since the kids and I are flying to Nashville tomorrow and haven't even started packing yet!), I've recorded a memory that I want to cherish forever. It's a good day.

Pictures!

Thanks to UncleR, here are some recent pics of the littles, taken at a family reunion a few weeks ago. If we could find our camera, there would have been another shot of Joanna sleeping this morning. She didn't quite go down for her nap as easily as she usually does, but I let her cry for a little while hoping that eventually she'd settle herself down. About the time I was going to go in and comfort her, the crying abruptly stopped. I peeked in and she was sitting up with her head leaning against the bars of her crib, fast asleep. I eventually laid her down, but man was that cute!

Also, one of her top teeth decided to poke its way through yesterday. That makes three now!

And AJ has had a few successes with the potty! Now if only we managed to have a couple days in a row at home, we might be able to actually get this done!

Anyway, pics:

AJ

And Joanna

Are you sure it isn't Monday?

So this morning I did something I only rarely do - I set the alarm. You see, my kids' internal clocks are magical. They wake up between 7:15 and 7:30 on days that we have no where to go and mama is super tired (wait...is there a day when I'm _not_ super tired? I don't remember one...), but on days that I need them to wake up exactly at 8 so that we can get to were we need to be, they sleep until 9:30...and so do I because they're my usual alarm clock...and what I said about always being tired? Yeah, very true. Joanna's "only" waking up 2-3 times per night now...

So this morning I set the alarm for 7. You see, we had to be at our first MOPS meeting of the year at 9, which means we had to leave the house at 8:30-ish, which means that they needed to have breakfast the moment they woke up (at 8, theoretically) so that I could get them dressed and out the door on time. But since I was going to work straight from MOPS, and then our small group was coming over, I also had to have the house "company ready" before I left. Fortunately, it was already relatively close and these are people who come over on a weekly basis, so as the weeks go on, my standards slip bit-by-bit. Anyway, so I got up a "few" minutes after the alarm went off the first time (or was it the 5th?), gathered up the non-toy clutter, ran a load of dishes, then fed the baby breakfast.

As I was putting something or other away in his room, AJ woke up, saw me, and immediately stretched his arms wide, indicating that he wanted a great big hug. Melt my heart...

Anyway, so Joanna tried "mixed cereal" for the first time this morning. She had her 4-oz jar of applesauce with pomegranate juice (yum! Why don't they make flavors like that for adults?!), then most of another 4-oz jar of "mixed cereal" with applesauce and bananas. I gathered up everything I needed, got everyone dressed, brought all the stuff out to the car, came back, turned out lights, grabbed babies, and then got all of the people out the door.

As AJ was mosey-ing up the steps, I started strapping Joanna (adorably dressed in a "we're seeing Mama's 'mommy friends'" outfit) into her car seat when she proceeded to add another "first" to things that she's done - empty the entire contents of her stomach full of "solid" food (almost two 4-oz jars!). All over her cute outfit. All over the car seat. Completely freaked her out.

So, I unstrapped her from her carseat, and held her at arms' length (I was dressed in "work" clothes) while I found the keys, yelled for AJ to come back inside, unlocked the door, and got her de-stickied, re-dressed, and somewhat calmed down. We went back outside (where AJ was still mosey-ing, not having apparently received the message that I yelled for him to come back inside - but at least he was still on the side walk and not playing in the parking lot or something), mostly cleaned up the car seat, strapped her back down (she isn't a huge fan of that at any time, but certainly not shortly after such a traumatic event in said carseat), strapped AJ in, and got to MOPS before the meeting started, if not quite when the leadership team was supposed to be there.

It was quite the morning. And they tell me it's Thursday. Feels more like a Monday to me!

Poor Parenting Moment # 5872 (or so)

So for lunch today, AJ had a peanut butter and raspberry sandwich. We picked the raspberries ourselves last Friday and I didn't want them to go bad, but also didn't really want to go to the hassle of making jam from them, so I just stuck them on the sandwich like you'd do with bananas. It's remarkably good (I had one too). That's not the poor parenting moment.

We walked to a friend's house today (3 mi each way!) to let their birds out for a bit while they're out of town. It took a little longer than I expected, so we didn't get back until 2 (naptime) and hadn't had lunch yet. Hence the peanut butter and raspberry sandwich. That's not the poor parenting moment.

So I slapped together the sandwich and let AJ watch a short Thomas DVD that my mom had given him this weekend while he was eating (while telling him that when Thomas was over, it was naptime). Even though he'd already seen that particular Thomas DVD once already today, that wasn't the poor parenting moment either.

So AJ goes down for his nap and I start the laundry (which is a communal facility a floor up from our condo). Joanna had napped both ways on the walk, so she wasn't interested in napping when he did, so on one laundry trip I stuck her in her "intellitainer" (like an exersaucer). The next time it was in her walker. The next time, I just left her on the floor with some toys. Believe it or not, but leaving my almost-8-mo-old (who is very mobile) loose on the floor as I left our condo for 5-10 minutes to change the laundry was also not the poor parenting moment.

HERE's the poor parenting moment:
When I came back from the laundry, Joanna was sitting there (approximately where I'd left her) with a HUGE grin on her face. Coming out of her widely-grinning mouth was the leftovers of AJ's peanut butter and raspberry sandwich (which had been on a plate on the coffee table next to her).

Let's count the ways that my youngest could have died in those 5-10 minutes:
1) Gluten. Well, ok...gluten doesn't usually cause anaphylactic reactions in people, but since it's a possible ADD trigger, I'm a bit of a "no gluten until they're at least 1" nazi. Gives their digestive tract a little longer to develop.
2) Peanuts. Most research shows that peanut allergies are reduced if the child doesn't ingest peanuts of any sort until at least 1. We don't have any peanut allergies on either side of our family, but still. Some OBs will tell you not to eat peanuts while you're breastfeeding! (Glad I never officially heard that from any of mine!)
3) Berries. Like with peanuts, the longer you avoid berries, the better off the child is in terms of potential allergies. Some pediatricians even say to wait till they're 2!

All she needed to do to get all of the worst "not before they're 1" allergens at once was dip it in a glass of milk.

Camping Adventures

So we went camping and whitewater rafting in Ohiopyle State Park last weekend (western PA). Well, all four of us went camping, but only VNB and I went whitewater rafting. Joanna's good at kicking, but she's not quite a swimmer yet. At least not enough to be in a boat on rapids.

It was the first time that VNB and I had gotten to do anything like that as a married couple. Something about getting pregnant two months into marriage kinda keeps you from rafting. Which, incidentally, provided the childcare for _this_ trip (pregnancy anyway, I know they've been married longer than two months). Except for the gash on my thumb from getting tossed out of the boat and the myriad of bruises and scrapes on my legs from getting pulled back in to the boat, we escaped with no major injuries and even still liked each other at the end of the afternoon. :)

We're still learning how to camp though. VNB had never been car camping before we were married (just backpacking). For his first Father's Day, we took a trip to the Poconos to see a NASCAR race and camp in the woods. He, thinking the trip was his present (and not just the fact that I was going to a NASCAR race with him and an 8-mo-old), and also never having done it before, assumed that I was going to pack everything. I (with my many many years of Turner camping) was expecting the Daddy to do it all.

We managed to get there with a tent, maybe an air mattress, and a few sheets (we weren't going to be at camp much, after all - there was a race to go to and a lake to swim in). We got to camp a little late though and didn't feel like scrounging for wood in order to cook the hot dogs or whatever food it was we brought along, so we went to the local Subway and got dinner. On the way back to the campground I got to introduce VNB to reality of camping with the Turners - as we were pulling into the campground, we started hearing pings as something hit the (new-ish-to-us) car. When we realized it was hail, we pulled in under the trees as much as we could and waited it out.

Thinking that we'd passed the "Murphy" test, we settled into camp for the night. We were borrowing the tent of some friends which had a separate little "room" for AJ to sleep in. We got him to sleep in it, then went to sleep ourselves only to have AJ wake up like every hour all night simply because it was _FREEEEEEEZING_ (did I mention this was August?). So the next day we took turns buying out the little camp store. We bought two very expensive camp chairs, a very expensive scratchy wool blanket, some very expensive food and condiments, and a few other things just for good measure. Then we went to shiver in the lake for a little while. AJ had a blast though, through his blue, shivering, little toothless gums. So that night, we were prepared for the cold. We tucked AJ into bed with us, wrapped up in the wool blanket, and proceeded to swelter all night in the blazing heat.

So the next day dawned with the promise of NASCAR, followed by the drive home. We got to the race early enough to find our (very expensive) seats and discover that in the Poconos raceway not only is smoking allowed, that was the first year where they'd actually set aside a "no smoking" section. Were we in it? Of course not! So we sat in the hot sun, not a cloud in the sky, coughing in the second-hand smoke as the VERY LOUD cars drove around in a triangle (did I mention that we forgot the ginormous box of ear plugs we'd bought for this exact occasion?). After a few thousand laps of heat, sun, smoke, and noise, we decided to give both me and AJ a break from it all and go out to see the vendors. Except that I was wearing shoes that were killing my feet and we were having to lug AJ everywhere since he wasn't walking yet and we didn't have a stroller or carrier with us.

We considered buying me a pair of Crocs at the Crocs booth, but they were like $500 so we didn't. After a while we wandered back into the stands for a while, but even VNB had had enough by then. The race wasn't exciting at all (the Crown Royal car kept spinning out and not hurting himself or any other cars and the #2 was in the lead the entire race), we were all dying of smoke and sun and AJ was screaming (or was that me?). So we found this random restaurant in an old factory or mill or something, had a good (if expensive) dinner, and then made our sunburned way home.

So this trip went better than that one. Of course, it'd be hard pressed to do worse, but it really was better. We're still learning what we need to bring though. We sat there Saturday night after rafting trying to cook dinner. We'd planned for grilled cheese and tomato soup. But after smelling the burgers two sites away, grilled cheese just wasn't really substantial enough. So we figured we'd have grilled cheese and bacon sandwiches. Except that we had no paper towels for the wiping of hands or the collecting of bacon grease, we had no tongs for the turning of the bacon, we had only a tiny like 5-in pan, and VNB's backpacking stove (one tiny burner over the fuel canister that you have to balance pans on top of - the table wasn't level and my balancing skills aren't that great, so we ended up losing several pieces of bacon and lots of grease along the way). So the process went like this: cook one piece of bacon cut in half (we didn't have anything other than a pocket knife either); cook another piece of bacon cut in half; cook the grilled cheese (with newly-cooked bacon) sandwich in the bacon grease; repeat ad nauseum (with multiple spills along the way). After about three sandwiches, I gave up for a while and VNB cooked his soup. But then we had all the rest of the bacon that we had to cook. Fortunately our friends took pity on us and let us borrow their actual camping stove and a frying pan that could fit _two_ pieces of bacon at a time.

So then we put Joanna to bed and sat around the campfire at our friends' campsite (two away from ours, up a hill, with several other friends' tents in the middle). After a while, AJ said that he was done with the fire and wanted to go to bed (really - I was just as surprised as you), so I took him down to our site, got him into pjs, and put him to bed. He totally was fine with me leaving him there and going back up to where our friends were. That is until about 30-45 minutes and a couple of rain showers later when across the campground we hear a panicked "MAAAAAA-MAAAAAAA!" Before our friends even know what's going on, I'm sprinting down the hill in the dark in my flip-flop sandals with socks on (meaning that they're not exactly secured to my feet), dodging tents and random tie downs (not to mention trees) to get to our son who was beside himself in terror. We assumed it was from the rain shower on the tent roof that woke him up or something.

By the time I got there, Joanna was awake again too, so I had to soothe her back down while trying to get him to stop bawling. After a while, me being there was only keeping him awake, so I turned off the light, but then he was scared that he couldn't see me anymore, so I was singing to him, but that was waking him up, so finally I just picked him up and held him until he was asleep enough that VNB coming and going didn't wake him. They both then proceeded to sleep at least as well as normal the rest of the night.

The next day we went to the lake and swam for a while. Joanna sat (with only a little support) on the edge of the water and splashed and played in the sand while her big brother and daddy played out in the deeper part. After a fun (if tiring) weekend, we made it home, safe and sound.

At least until VNB discovered that he'd somehow managed to get a viral strain of pink eye. So far he hasn't shared with the rest of us, but we're still very much hoping he gets better soon!

Now to unpack!

Big Shoes

Enough

So on Saturday, I got pretty much the whole day without my darling kiddoes. It was both blissful and painful all at the same time. Blissful because I got to be an adult all day without anyone hanging off of me while attending a great training for MOPS leaders and then Amplified. And painful because not only was I without my darling, wonderful husband (who was watching our children all day, despite being called into work at the last minute) and my adorable little ones, I was also without some of the necessary pieces of my breast pump. By the end of the day, we'll just say that I was...full...

Anyhoo...it was a beautiful day, so I got to drive with the windows down, singing along with the radio (or at times with the radio off and just in silence!!!). And it was freeing! It's so rare that I'm actually _alone_ in a car anymore. That used to be my time to sit and chat with God, and I have to say that it's one of the things I've missed most since being a mommy. Well, that's how I used to think of it anyway. But since I had probably two hours of "alone time" while driving to and fro on Saturday, I think I have come to a startling realization.

I am seriously lacking in angst in my life right now. That's totally not a bad thing to lack and I certainly don't miss it, but it gives me far less to "chat" with God about in those rare moments when we _are_ alone. Looking back, I think our "chats" used to revolve a lot around the "things" I wanted in life (pretty much just a husband and kids, back in the day), and now that I have those "things," I don't know what to talk about.

Makes me wonder exactly how self-centered my relationship with Him was in those days, constantly asking Him why I wasn't getting the things I wanted at the times that I wanted them. Heh...reminds me of a certain young man I popped out a few years back who is still learning the concept of "yes, but later."

Wow...this is totally not the blog post I expected it to be. How do I expect my 2-yr-old to understand a concept that I didn't get when I was 27? And still probably wouldn't get if there were anything I wanted RIGHT NOW. I wonder how many times _I_ got put into "time out" and had those "things" taken away because _I_ wouldn't stop pouting? Now there's a point to ponder...

Anyway...I've noticed a lot of other bloggers lately talking about the concept of "Enough." C.S. Lewis touches on it in "Perelandra" (the 2nd book in his "Space Trilogy") when Ransom eats the special fruit. He recognizes that the ample crop would allow him to eat as many of the fruits as he wanted to...but something holds him back after the first one or two. By indulging (or over-indulging), he would be taking away some of the "special-ness" of the fruit. And by waiting in between each taste of the fruit, he got to savor the memory of the last special meal and eagerly anticipate the next.

What I have now is "enough" and then some. Yes, we could stand to have more money, but we have enough for our needs right now. Yes, we could stand to have a bigger house, but we have enough for our needs right now. We could have nicer cars, a bigger TV, phones that can do everything, all the toys AJ and Joanna could ever want....but what we have right now is enough for our needs (and then some).

And now that I recognize that, I can see how shallow my interactions with God were back in the day when all I'd do was complain about what I didn't have. Now I've just gotta figure out what else there is to talk about with Him.

One thing for sure is to thank Him that He has _far_ more patience as a parent than I have. And self-control. Dude...if I had to deal with whiny me while being all powerful? Let's just say that there'd be a whole lot more lightning bolts.

AJ's Word of the Day

So AJ likes him some Veggie Tales. He's seen the ones we have enough now that he has names for each of them. Not necessarily _their_ name, but _a_ name. Often it's the name of one of the prominent characters (e.g., "Cue" = Minnesota Cuke). Lately he's been asking for "Be Bo Bah."

Any guesses?

Be Bo Bah = Larry Boy

But before you begin to ponder exactly how "Be Bo" = Larry, I'd like for you to know that "Be" actually equals Larry. "Bo" is Boy. "Bah" is actually Bob. He's actually saying "Larry Boy Bob." "Bob" represents not only Bob the Tomato, but also Larry the Cucumber and Veggie Tales in general.

Rai and Jiri at Lungha.

No, Yoda!

Ok, before you all think that I'm a terrible, horrible person, compare the two pictures below.

Joanna

Joanna's Momma

Joanna looks JUST LIKE her mother (that's me). So anything I say about her, I'm essentially saying about myself too. And we'll deal with the therapy bills later.

Also, please know that I think my child is absolutely beautiful. Not "look, it's a baby" beautiful, but really and truly beautiful. (Now why don't I think _that_ about myself? Nevermind...we'll deal with _my_ therapy bills later too...)

Having said all of that, I also see a striking resemblance to both Yoda and a garden gnome.

Yoda

Gnome

Now, if I'd actually taken the time to Photoshop the pics rather than just Paint, I think the resemblance would have been even more striking (green tinted skin, different backgrounds, better Yoda hair, etc.). But I wanted to post this sometime before she's 30. But I love the Yoda pic, especially in her little Bumbo. It's just like their Jedi Council seats! Heehee! Ooo...I should have added the lightsaber!