In Love

My son is in love. Look at the little smirk on his face... he sees her and just smiles and says, "Miss Tisha!" He always wants to squeeze her cheek. It's hilarious! Fortunately she doesn't seem to mind too much.

The Digger and His Softer Side

Well, it has happened. My son has learned a new trick - digging. I don't mean his nose - he already had that mastered a long time ago - I mean digging his chin into his sister when he doesn't get what he wants. I thought biting would come next, which thankfully, it hasn't. When he wants something she has, he will lift his little chin, plant it firmly in one of her appendages or in her back or sometimes her head, and bear down with all his might. It hurts, believe me! He's done it to me just on a trial basis only. See above, I have proof. In this instance he wanted to climb over her and she wouldn't let him. Imagine that! So of course she just sat on him, which makes perfect sense.

He's all things little boy, but he also has a tender, sweet side too. The other day I was lying on the bed waiting for my husband to finish dressing Rachel for bed - Benjamin was already finished - and he body-slammed me. As I was not expecting it, it did not feel good. When he saw that it had hurt me, Benjamin said, "Oooh! Oooh! I sorry!" He then bent his little head to give me a kiss to make it feel better. Now, how sweet is that?!

All the things he does to Rachel, while yes, he wants his own way, he does most generally so that he can be just like her. He adores her! He loves to dance with her - and I have proof! (Where would I be without my trusty camera. I have great blackmail shots for later!) His little eyes light up when she comes into the room. And when Joel, Rachel and I were gone the other day when he woke up from a nap, my mother informed me that he went around the house looking and then came back to her asking, "Where's Rachel?" I don't think he even noticed that Joel and I weren't there.

He has a softer side with his parents too. He LOVES his daddy! His little eyes light up when Joel comes home and he runs to where his father is to hug and kiss him. He gently pulls at Joel's whiskers and whispers, "Whiskers!" as if they are magical in some way. He also LOVES his mommy! He freely gives me kisses all the time and will at times even cup my face in his little hands while he tells me that he loves me and then kisses me. He's utterly precious!

The other day we were taking a walk along a path at a local park. He and Rachel were in front of me holding hands as they walked along the path. He turned his head and called, "Mommy!" just to make sure I was coming with them. He's just so sweet at times! My digger, my bopper, my son!

My Explorers of All Things Sticky, Gooey and Slimy

For any of those who have children or pets for that matter, you know that it is instinctively part of not just human nature but also animal nature to be curious. My children love to watch Curious George and I’m fully aware it’s because they completely relate to his curiosity! I feel like Hunley, the Doorman’s dog, who always tries to protect the hotel from George.

While a Curious George episode ends in about 15-30 minutes, my children’s “episodes” of curiosity can last much longer than that, at least the clean-up does. Again I was downstairs trying to multi-task, when I realized how very quiet my children had become. When I went in Rachel’s room to see what they were doing, I just about keeled over from apoplexy! My children, who I thought were playing with stuffed animals and other harmless toys, were getting into some items on the dresser. Now, I realize that I really only have myself to blame for all of this because I’m the one that left the make-up in there. I understand that this is really my fault which is why I’m writing (or in this case, typing) it down so that 1) I will hold myself accountable to find things and remove them before my children use them and 2) as a warning for other parents.

They had located a bottle of liquid foundation that I'd forgotten I had and a bottle of lotion that had come in a gift bag for going to a women's function at church. All I can say is, thank goodness the lotion bottle was a very small one!

I came in to find that they had coated some of the wood (again, I say thank goodness - it could've been all fabric) furniture with the mixture they had created using the lotion and foundation along with Rachel's pillowcase and bedsheet, and some spots on the floor. My guess is that Rachel knew it was foundation and lotion and that she was trying to "make-up" the three princesses on her bed (Cinderella, Snow White and Belle).

What's a parent to do when he/she finds the children making a mess such as this? Well, I did the only thing I knew to do; sucking up a wad of tears that was threatening to choke me, I told them that they are always to ask Mommy if they can play with things that weren't given to them to play with. Then, I proceeded to start cleaning up the mess.

In all of this, they were very sweet and tried to help me clean up, which I politely asked them not to. My oldest, Rachel, simply stood there watching me for awhile. She picked up the lotion bottle from the floor and went over and threw it in the trash, "We better put this away, Mommy." Good idea (now she decides to put it away)! She then told me solemnly, "I'm sorry, Mommy. I didn't mean to." Of course, my son, Benjamin, had to follow suite and express his regret in equal manner. How precious are my children!?! Along with their father, they are the most precious gifts in my life.

As I cleaned up that mess and as I'm reminded of it when I see the sheets I'm still trying to remove stains out of, I'm finding gratitude in each day as I watch my husband play with our children, listen to my daughter articulate almost everything quite well and watch my son as he "plays" music on every piece of furniture and toy imaginable. My children astound me with their learning and growing, their creativity and their sensitivity. It gives me new perspective on each day and though I have times of feeling frustrated, exasperated or even overwhelmed, I'm so grateful that God has given me these - has entrusted them to me. I am indeed blessed!

The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week (And it's only Tuesday!)

As Alexander said in his book, “I think I’ll move to Australia.” It’s been one of those awful weeks, the kind of week that seems like one long, very bad Monday. I know, I know, it’s only Tuesday, but if this week gets any worse, well, I just won’t go there…

Monday, I woke up to my daughter talking in her very loud “quiet voice”. She said, “Mommy! Mommy! Turn on PBS kids!” Her wish is my command (at least at that time of the morning), so I did just that to make her stop the loud sound that was coming out of her mouth. How can a mouth that small make such a loud noise so early in the morning? Can you tell I’m not a morning person?

The next thing I know my son is awake and is growl-screaming in his I’m-so-mad-you-didn’t-get-me-up-first voice, “Mommy! Mommy!” So I went in and got him up hoping that if I brought him to my room to sit on the bed and watch cartoons that he and Rachel would watch quietly while I slept peacefully. HA! I’m so naïve sometimes, I amuse myself when I look back on it. This naïveté, of course, is due to the fact that I am SO not a morning person that I can’t even think or reason clearly in the morning.

Anyway, throughout the course of Monday, my daughter dirtied herself once, my son proceeded to dirty himself profusely, so much so that I had to change his clothes twice, and my allergies drove me crazy which meant that I had a pounding headache while sneezing and coughing all day. And so I move on to Tuesday…

Again, I was awakened by my lovely daughter’s “quiet voice” and Benjamin’s growl-scream. My mother was going to the doctor that morning, so I put her wheelchair in her car for her. As she was walking to the car she told me that she was hurting badly from the physical therapy the day before. I noticed that she had a hard time getting her stiff legs into the car. I thought to myself, I’ll be nice and clean out her whirlpool tub so that she can soak her aching muscles when she gets home.

I had heard my mom say that the manufacturer’s recommendation was to use dishwashing soap for half an hour (it’s debatable what she actually said, but what I heard was dishwashing liquid). So in the interest of my mother’s good health and happiness, I started filling the tub with water and gave it two small squirts of Palmolive dishwashing liquid. (Yes, I'm sure you can all see this coming - but do remember please, I am blonde!) When the tub was filled just over the top of the jets, I turned the water off, closed the door of her bedroom and went out into the kitchen to set the timer. In the thirty minutes from the timer starting to it going off, I was in the middle of fixing a fiasco at my bank.

In the midst of a rather irritating conversation with a bank teller, the timer for the bathtub went off. I had been placed on hold by the bank teller so I went in to check the progress of the tub cleaning. Now, for any of those who try to multi-task while talking on the phone, I don’t recommend in this particular instance going to check on a whirlpool tub cleaning while being on the phone, at least not if you've decided to clean it with dishwashing liquid (that's the important part here). Let’s just say that it was a good thing I was still on hold because I would’ve had some explaining to do to a now deaf bank teller. Needless to say, I finished my conversation with the bank teller rather quickly once she came back on the line.

This is what had happened - when I opened the door of my mother’s bedroom and stood in the doorway to her bathroom, I saw bubbles edging out toward the doorway. Surprised I went a few steps further looking in to the bathroom. Bubbles had floated out and up to the upper part of the shower and I could no longer actually see the tub. I was horrified!

Once I was off the phone and since I didn’t want to get my clothes all soapy and wet, I stripped off all my clothes and went into the bathroom, through the bubbles and into the tub itself to turn off the jets and drain the tub. I hadn’t realized that I had left my mother’s bedroom door open until I saw two little children staring at me with stunned faces. They started jumping up and down and with smiles on their faces they shouted, “I want a bath too!”

After convincing them not to remove their clothes and that Mommy was just cleaning and didn’t want to get her clothes all soapy (I sincerely hope that they don’t remember this incident later or we’ll all be in therapy for a very long time!), I got the bathtub cleaned and the area around it mopped up. When my mother came home from the doctor, she had a good laugh and told me that it was dishwasher soap and that it had to be low-sudsing soap. Hmmph!!

It’s good that God gives us a sense of humor even if it doesn’t kick in until later. I can breathe a sigh of relief that I don’t have to go through days like that everyday and know that even when I do, God can give me the strength to get through them. I’m writing this from the perspective of looking back a week, so I can confidently say, "This too shall pass…."

My Sweet Girl

I admire my daughter. She is beautiful, sweet and kind with a wonderful sense of humor. All this and she is only 3 years old. Amazing, I know! She has her moments, of course, pulling her brother’s hair when she wants to move him away from the things that she wants or pushing him out of her way so that she can get to the TV first. But it is my daughter who will try her hardest to make her brother laugh when he is sad or to cheer him up when he is crying. She will even sit beside him to “wait it out” when he throws a temper tantrum. Maybe all children have this in them, I don’t know. But I happen to think that my daughter is special (of course I’m not biased at all).

The other day my daughter was sitting at the piano “playing” it and my son walked in and wanted to “play” the piano too. I told him that he would have to wait his turn. He immediately looked around and fell to the ground in a tantrum (you have to understand that he makes sure that he has a soft place to land, after all he wouldn’t want to hurt himself). Since he was so mad and screaming about not getting to play the piano, Rachel immediately hopped off the piano bench and said, "Here, Benjamin, you can play piano."

He got up from the floor, crocodile tears still running, and got up on the piano bench and started "playing" away. Rachel stood by with a grin at making her brother happy. As she stood by watching, I watched as her face changed rather quickly into a frown realizing that she no longer could play the piano with him sitting on the bench.

She got a determined look on her face and pushed at Benjamin hard, "Okay, it's Rachel's turn now!" While Benjamin didn't exactly fall off the bench, it did catch him off guard quite a bit. He overcompensated by flinging himself toward her to steady himself and ended up hitting her on the head with his own head. Both of them turned around and looked at me rubbing their heads with their hands with stunned looks on their faces.

I took that opportunity to suggest that we close the piano lid and "play" another time. They took that invitation and scrambled to be first to enter the other room. I listened as my sweet girl, the one who had willingly given up her time at the piano, screamed at her brother, "No, Rachel's first!"

*Sigh* Oh, well, none of us are sweet all the time...

The Blame Game

There comes a day in every mother’s life that she realizes her children are not just being disobedient as little individuals but are striving to work together as a team to be disobedient (and I thought it would be so much fun to have children so close together!). As I look at my little angels, I can look back at circumstances and situations and see who is the instigator and who is the willing participant of the disobedience. Rachel, my firstborn angel, little princess that she is, can smile sweetly at her little brother and tell him, “Go ahead, Benjamin!” And whatever it is she is enticing him to do, he is her willing servant. He adores his older sister wanting to do everything just like her.

It has come to this: if I know that Rachel is doing something I’ve asked her not to do and I say to her, “Rachel, please don’t do that.” She will look at me and say, “No, it’s not Rachel, it’s Benjamin.” As if I don’t know who is doing what! Did we really think our parents were that stupid? *Sigh* I already know the answer; I just don’t want to admit it!

The blame game sure does start early! It is so much easier to blame someone else, anyone else, than to blame ourselves, as is evident in my precious darlings. I can’t help but smile with pride though because they are so creative and very imaginative. They have learned to build things just to get to the highest point of anything – frightening!

I have to laugh A LOT to get through some days and pray OFTEN for wisdom and patience in disciplining them. And I have to remember that just like I am human, they are little humans (cute ones too!) who are just learning and it is my job, my honor, to teach them right from wrong – and I am truly blessed!

The Battle Between Princess Grumpy and Princess Happy (hint: Princess Happy wins!)

I like to try the art of distraction for as long as it will work. That’s my motto, “Distract them well and distract them often!” Sometimes, however, distraction just doesn’t work. My children can often be distracted into obedience. Somehow I’m able to distract them into thinking that whatever I’m asking them to do is their idea or a game or some such. As they are getting older and more often than not these days though, it doesn’t work.

When my 3-year-old decides that she will not be obedient no matter what I say, I have no choice but to take action. This morning after one long continuous tantrum of which I was not able to bring her out of with my usual routine, I told her to go to her room. Princess Grumpy’s eyes widened and she threw her head back and screamed, “I don’t want to go to my room!” So, of course, I opened her door and helped her start walking toward it. She promptly sat down on her bed and with red-rimmed eyes she turned to me and said, “I calmed down now.” How convenient!

Not giving into the manipulation of a 3-year-old, I sat down across from her and explained to her that she would need to sit on her bed and decide if she wanted to be obedient to mommy and be in a better mood. She also had the choice of being disobedient and grumpy, in that case I explained, she could just sit in her room by herself. I told her that when and if she decided to be in a better mood and be obedient that I would love to have her come upstairs and join her brother and me.

Well, she was down there for about 25 minutes crying off and on when I heard these footsteps in the hallway. She came over to me smiling and said, “I’m in a better mood now!”

“I’m so glad!” as I gave her a hug and watched her dance off down the hallway and around the corner to the living room.

The next thing I asked her to do was to help me pick up some toys, she jumped at the chance to “help” Mommy! Amazing what a little reflective time alone can do – even for a 3-year-old. My Princess Happy has returned!

The Bopper and the Princess

There he goes again! My son, sparkling eyes, mouth set in a determined grin and giggles staggering out of him as he pushes his sister's baby stroller through the hall. She trails behind screaming at him to let go of her stroller.

He just enjoys terrorizing her! Overnight he has become this maniacal, giggling thief of all things pretty and princess. I truly believe that he has decided that his purpose in life is to completely invade her territory and pillage all of her stuffed animals/blankets/books/baby dolls. This beautiful, angelic, cherubic child can turn into a beast at a blink of an eye.

But then, my little princess is no angel at times herself! She is truly one of the sweetest children I know on the planet. Giving, loving, sharing, caring - all of those wonderful qualities are hers until her brother bops her on the head, which unfortunately happens more often than it should. True, I would not be very sweet if someone bopped me on the head, but I am trying to get her to use words (Don't hit me!) instead of action (bopping her brother on the head right back). She's actually doing quite well at it. It is obvious that girls are much more into verbal communication than physical communication. Where as my son is all about the tantrums and hitting, pushing (we, thankfully, have not gotten into biting or kicking yet), my daughter is all about the screaming. In fact, I asked her to stop screaming in the car on the way home from church yesterday and she very sternly corrected me, "I'm NOT screaming, I'm YELLing!" And yes, I did have to bite my lip to keep from laughing out loud.

*Sigh!* I hear a screaming princess...yes, she's all right, just got a bopping on the head from the bopper. It's time-out for that one as he sits looking at me with his lower lip sticking so far out you could trip over it. Too cute! I just keep telling myself that it won't be so cute when he's 16 and he's bopping people over the head.

The two minutes are up and he's released from his prison. :) I make him tell his sister that he's sorry for hitting her and then give her a kiss and a hug. Too precious! All is well between the bopper and the princess once more. He graciously shares a fruitsnack with her as she sweetly tells him, "Thank you!" They run off giggling to play in the other room. The laugh and dance around the room together. Harmony, at last!

Oh, the joys of raising children! Despite my exasperation with them at times, they are absolutely the joy of my life! They are learning all the time, every day and all day long. And while they learn, along the way I learn from them too. I'm so thankful for my little blessings!

Oh no, what's that I hear? Screaming again?! Here we go! The bopper is on the loose!

Ear Plugs Are the Finest Gift to Give!

I have been blessed with great hearing, not just good, normal hearing, but GREAT hearing! I can hear my husband scratching his head from the other room with the TV turned on and two children yelling, "Mommy!" at the top of their little lungs. Again, I say I have been blessed. But, with that blessing comes somewhat of a burden - not being able to hear myself think in the midst of chaos. Now, I can multitask with the best of them, but sometimes, sometimes I just want some peace and quiet (and no, my toddlers' names are not Peace and Quiet).

My husband, thankfully, is a very quiet man. He's gentle, smiles and nods his head in agreement most of the time. However, when he comes home and I'm in the middle of fixing dinner with a 3-year-old screaming, "I don't wanna watch Baby Einstein! I wanna watch Cinderella!" and my 2-year-old screaming at the hem of my pants, "I wanna see! I wanna see!" and my husband says to me in his quiet, loving voice, "Is dinner almost ready?", I could backhand him with the greasy spatula attached to my hand!

I'm telling you, ear plugs are a mother's best friend! I can put in my ear plugs and it's like putting the world on soft mute. I can still hear everything that's going on, but the miracle of it all is, I can now hear MYSELF think. Aahhh!