My head hurts

I've been trying to think all week of how I want to write about this week.  At this point all I can say is that my head hurts (in a good way, if there is such a thing).  I have spent every afternoon all week sitting in class with about ten other fantastic and inspiring women wrestling our way through to understand the first five books of the Old Testament.  There are sweeping narrative stories of Abraham, Jacob, Joseph and Moses in Genesis and Exodus.  There are strange, detailed rituals in Leviticus.  There are seemingly archaic, confusing laws in Numbers.  Quite honestly, at this point, I can't even remember what Deuteronomy is about.  There is so much to learn and so little time in which to learn it.  Even after attending and learning in church my entire life, and reading and studying for hours and hours upon hours for the last four semesters, I basically feel like I know next to nothing.

And then there's the rest of my life, which I have blessedly had a break from for the few days, as Hubby T and the boys are staying with his parents up north.  As nice as it is to come home, make a quiet, simple dinner, and watch Once Upon a Time until I'm ready for bed, there is a huge hole in my heart and my arms feel incredibly empty in the absence of my two little ones.  And we're still waiting for the house to sell.  And eagerly anticipating but not yet planning all the other pieces of a new life that we will have to figure out once we can move forward.

So my head hurts.  My weeks on campus leave me exhausted and exhilarated and inspired and humbled. Thank goodness that in every way I am not alone in this grad school journey.  Thank goodness tomorrow is the last day of class.  And thank goodness that in the midst of all the overwhelming confusion, one message shines through.  God loves God's people.  God loves me.  And for tonight I think I will just rest in that.  

A Summer of Something

Tonight I read an article about a woman who designates every summer the Summer of Something, like the Summer of Pies or the Summer of Homemade Jams.  The point of the article was that summer can be a time to take time to try something new and enjoy the journey (and it doesn't have to be about food although that sure sounds fun to me!).  As I read the article I knew, without even having to think, that while doing something new would be fun, there won't be any time or energy to do something too specific because my coming months have already been designated as the Summer of Moving.

A "For Sale" sign goes up in our front yard tomorrow.  Hubby T and I have been working non-stop for the past month to de-personalize our house, pack up anything that could be considered "clutter," repaint, spackle, clean and generally whip our home into the best shape possible so that it sells quickly.  I will need to keep the house in this pristine condition so that we can clear out with relatively little notice whenever someone wants to come see it, and I'm sure you can imagine what a piece of cake that will be with Little B and Baby P underfoot.  The good news is that they love all the newly open space in the house and running around shrieking keeps them occupied for quite awhile.  The bad news is that even with half the house packed away,  they still find ways to make incredible messes everyday.

So if this is going to be my Summer of Moving, how can I do it well?  I'll admit that I'm a bit apprehensive about making that happen.  For the next 5 weeks I will also be juggling into the mix finishing my school semester, which is no small feat.  Hubby T and I will be separated much of the time.  And with preschool now over, I'm back to entertaining both boys for approximately fourteen hours a day, seven days a week.  Does that sound like a lot?  Because it feels like a lot.  And at some point, hopefully, I'll add in coordinating the actual move away from this house when it sells and participating in choose and buying a new one (in a different state).  Despite the bright and exciting light at the end of the moving tunnel, from where I'm standing right now, I have a lot of drudgery to get through.  I'm hoping it won't be as hard as I anticipate.  I'm hoping I figure out how to have more fun with the boys than I think I'll have.  And I'm really hoping that I don't have to live in this in-between state of being for too long.  I'm going to try and blog about how things are going once a week or so, just to keep myself connected to something and to help myself process all that is swirling around me.  So hang in there with me.  New adventures are on the way, and so is summer...

Be still

This morning in church our pastor preached on some verses from Psalm 46, the most familiar of which says, "Be still and know that I am God."  I have thought and prayed over and sang these words many times, but today it reminded me of the words of Moses when the Israelites were about to leave Egypt and cross the Red Sea.  They were understandably terrified when facing a great unknown but Moses says, "The LORD will fight for you; you need only to be still."

This afternoon I woke Baby P up from his nap, knowing that he usually takes a couple minutes to fully awaken when I wake him up.  I brought him out on our front porch to watch and listen and even feel a huge downpour that was covering our house.  He leaned against my chest, completely still, for several minutes.  This was a precious moment of peace, as normally during his waking hours he twirls and swirls around like a tornado.  As we sat there taking the storm in, I thought how grateful I was for his stillness, and then I remembered the sermon, and was grateful for our stillness.

Our little family is moving.  We are packing up our belongings and selling our house and going somewhere hours away to build a new life.  It's been a long time coming but now the time is finally here.  And of course real life doesn't stop.  So I have been feeling pretty much the opposite of still lately.  I have ten to fifteen minutes every morning before the boys wake up to pray, and I'm so grateful that those small times are sustaining me.  There is much work to be done and hours to go before I sleep but for today, I'm grateful that I could be still.   

Confused or something like that

This afternoon I finally got to the head of the line at the grocery store and the cashier said, very kindly, "You look confused."  Confused?  Sure, I was something like that.  After all, wouldn't you feel confused if your youngest child had just peed through his diaper onto the grocery store floor while you were waiting in the aforementioned line?  And if your older child had spent the entire shopping trip pushing the cart away whenever you turned your back?  And if your older child, who had gone to the bathroom before leaving home at your direction specifically so that you wouldn't have to make bathroom breaks, demanded to go to the bathroom at not just one but both of the grocery stores you went to?  (What is it with my kids and the bathroom today!)  And if you had a cold?  And were going on consecutive nights of less than six hours of sleep?  And if your youngest child had a cold too, meaning you brought him into service with you at church instead of the nursery?  And if said child then proceeded to give you a new hairdo while you struggled to make it through the last hymn?  And if you had lots of other thoughts swirling around in your mind that aren't ready to be discussed on the blog yet?!

Yes, I am sure I did look confused.  Or something like that.

But, as Pete the cat would say, "It's all good."  Church turned out good this morning, despite my tiredness, so thank you God.  Did you know that not-even-two-year-olds will pay attention in church, for just a tiny moment, if you ask them to make "praying hands" and point out that the pastor is doing it too?  I got to celebrate my sister-in-law's upcoming wedding surrounded by family and friends yesterday.  I am reading a good book.  I am giving myself a pass on school work tonight because I know that in my confused-or-something-like-that state it's not even worth trying to read.  My husband loves me and we have good things going on in our life.  And there's this.

The boy insisted on wearing his swimsuit after we came inside from playing in the baby pool, which Hubby T in his fashion genius paired with a Hawaiian shirt.  Yup, it's all good!

Overflowing with No's

I know I tend to show off and brag about my kids a lot on this space.  What I try not to do is complain about them, because you don't want to read that and it's not necessarily fair to them.  So I'm going to vent a little tonight but connect it to Holy Week so maybe/hopefully there's a good message at the end of all this.

This little smiling devil makes my heart rejoice every day, but he also makes me want to bang my head through the wall on a regular basis (these words literally came out of my mouth tonight).  When Baby P was younger I realized that I needed to stop calling him "trouble" lest he begin to live up to the nickname.  So I did but it didn't affect his behavior.  As he grows, his capacity for getting into trouble also grows, much to my horror.  I don't think this is because I'm overly strict.  I'm actually impressed with how much I have loosened up since kids invaded my living space.  I'm also slightly horrified at the things I let the boys get away with in regards to their behavior to one another.  But some things I just can't compromise on.

"NO Baby P, you may not play with scissors."  Baby P is now strong enough to move the kitchen trash can and roll out and open the very heavy art bin that we keep facing the wall.  Is he old enough to be trusted with free access to art supplies yet?  Alas, almost but not quite yet.  It's just a matter of time until he cuts someone's hair folks, mark my words...

"NO Baby P, stop knocking the gate over!"  We have a baby gate that blocks the front and back halves of our house.  Baby P's super not even two year old strength has taken this gate down more times than I care to remember this week.  While I'm tempted to just let him learn the hard way that he shouldn't yet climb stairs without Mommy, knocking down that gate also gives him access to our desk, filled with files and paper clips and pens and receipts and can you see my head about to explode from the chaos he could cause in there?!

"NO Baby P, you cannot play with the plunger and toilet brush!"  No explanation needed here.

"NO Baby P, do not climb on Mommy's chair!" which definitely would have led to my dinner, the place mat, and the syrup bottle on the floor and probably endangered my flower vase and fruit bowl in the middle of the table (because once things within reach are on the floor, he just keeps reaching...).

"NO Baby P, do not bite your brother!"  Again, no explanation needed.

Hopefully you get the idea.  Saying no to this child is exhausting.  He bounces from one thing to another to another and somehow almost always ends up doing something that necessitates a "NO!"  So where's the connection to Holy Week in all this you might ask?  In the midst of all my NO-ing tonight, I began wondering what it would be like if God were to respond to my behavior as I was to my son's behavior.

"NO, Mama P.  Don't be self-righteous. "

"NO, Mama P.  Don't hold onto that grudge."

"NO, Mama P.  Don't be selfish."

"NO, Mama P.  Don't judge that driver or that person in the house across the street or what that person wrote on Facebook.  Just don't judge."

And this list could go on and on.  Yikes!  God must be even more exhausted than I am.

My devotion book has led with this verse the last couple days, "Look, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world!" (John 1:29)  I've been dwelling on two parts of this.  First, the "sins of the world,".  This includes my sins, a small portion which are listed above.  Spend some time in prayerful confession and you can come up with your own list, then multiply that by all the people in the world today, plus the last two thousand years at least, and you may start to get an idea of what "sins of the world" could mean.  The sins of the world is no small thing.  But then I come back to the second part of the verse that has been dwelling in my mind, "the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world."  God has every right to toss me and all of us aside in frustration, but never does.  Instead, God sent Jesus to take away our sins.  And that's what Easter is all about.  

I will celebrate Easter this year in much the same way I have for many years, and the message will be the same as it is every year.  Yet I still rejoice because God's love and forgiveness is an amazing message.  Although I mess up over and over and over again, I believe that someday I will be better, someday we'll all be better.  Because the Lamb of God is and will continue to take away our sins.  And someday, when all the sins are gone, God won't have to say "NO" to us anymore.  Alleluia.

Expecting the unexpected

From the day he was born over four years ago, I have been consistently delighted with Little B.  As he has grown and moved through the young developmental stages, I have never known what to expect other than that he will surprise me and, most of the time, continue to be a joy.  This is not to say that we haven't had our challenging times, because we certainly have, but love forgives a multitude of sins, right?!

Even four year olds love to be held by their mommies

Little B has found a new stride since he turned four and he constantly delights and amazes me.  For example, I needn't have sobbed with grief when I found out Baby P was a boy and I wouldn't have a little girl to enjoy girly things with, because Little B has been enjoying the Frozen soundtrack more than me!  I finally indulged the girly-princessy part of me and bought it for myself a couple weeks ago and ever since Little B has asked to listen to it almost every day.  I even hear him singing the songs to himself under his breath.  I love that he loves it!

Enjoying the snow at Gramma and Grampa's house (with Gramma's gloves!)

He is also, with practically no effort from us, mastering his letters!  He seeks out opportunities to point out and name letters, which I hope is building a foundation in his brain for starting to read.  I'm not in a hurry for that to happen, other than that I know he will be so pleased with himself.  He's also starting to learn numbers, again, completely unprompted.  He regularly asks to push the buttons on the microwave, naming them as he goes, and tells us the numbers on the clocks and digital thermometer.  Hooray for an active, growing brain!

The main thing I don't like about this age is his forceful, commanding attitude that surfaces whenever we tell him something he doesn't want to hear.  For example, when I say, "Little B, it's time to go, please put on your socks and shoes," he will immediately bark out,  "NO!  I don't want to go!" or "Blaaaast!" (Perhaps he is starting to internalize Jake and the Neverland Pirates a little too much?!)  It's a pretty disrespectful tone of voice, so we're trying to react in ways that encourage him to correct the tone and use nicer words.  Or maybe I should just starting shouting pirate words back at him and see how he reacts!

Brother sledding!

Perhaps the most meaningful thing for my mommy heart right now is how Little B is learning and thinking about God.  He sits through our entire church service with us every Sunday, sometimes more wiggly than others, but by his own choice.  I don't think he necessarily learns things from the sermon yet, but he enthusiastically puts his two quarters in the offering plate, he'll sit with us as we pray and recite the Lord's Prayer, and he always lets me hold him when I go up to take Communion.  It is so special to me to share these traditions of our faith with him, and to see him desire to experience them with us.

My precious boy being in worship the way he needed to experience it that day

Much of my parenting mindset these days is wrapped around the fact that almost everything for my kids is a stage.  Little B won't scream at me like a pirate and be disagreeable whenever I ask him to do something forever.    Baby P won't enjoy dumping boxes of cereal out under the kitchen table forever.  Neither one of my kids will constantly ask me for hugs and cuddles multiple times every day.  I'm doing my best to, as they say, enjoy the journey.  It is an amazing privilege.

Decided he needed to sleep in his tent after we had tucked him in!

 

Little words from a big handful

My life is filled with one-word conversations these days.  Baby P's vocabulary has grown dramatically in the past couple months and this stage of baby words tickles our hearts.  I can't capture his inflection or tone through words, but I'll do my best to give you (and future me who won't remember) an idea.

We weren't perfectly equipped with Baby P sized snow gear, so he spent quite a bit of time on the ground

My days often begin with one word - "Ower!" meaning over, which translates to "lift me over the edge of the crib so I can get out!"  In short order he then asks for his "moothie" (smoothie) and "bagel,".  Other favorite foods include "matos" (tomatoes), "nilk" (milk), "cado" (avocado), and "ot dog" (hot dog).  He is also very aware of what cookie, candy, and ice cream means.  Hard to sneak anything past this one!

   

Baby P's favorite word is "hug."  He asks for hugs all day everyday, which is often followed by him enthusiastically throwing his arms around your neck.  His little friend at church has told him that he asks for too many hugs, and this week proposed that they hold hands instead!  Baby P thinks that a hug is the solution to every hurt, either his or someone else's.  They are a pretty endearing apology.

Look at that smirk - it says, "I outsmarted mom and pulled cereal out of the pantry - again!"

 Now that I think about it though, he does have another word he's pretty fond of - "more!"  We hear this quite frequently, whenever he wants more food, more books, more songs, or whatever fun tickle or wrestling game we are playing with him.  We also hear "up" pretty often because although he's closing in on two years old, his favorite place to be is still in the arms of the people he loves, especially mommy and daddy, although let's be honest, it's mostly mommy (sorry Hubby T).  He has heard me say, "In a minute" so often that he'll just repeat "minit" in response.  At least we both understand each other.

First time sledding ended in an exuberant high pitched, "More?!"

And, of course, he has family names down pretty well.  He knows all his grandparents and aunts and uncles.  He loves looking at our family scrapbooks so we point and label the people in the pictures on a regular basis.  Little B did that as a young one too, which has made all the effort I put into scrapbooking the last couple years seem worth it.  The only Baby P word I can't explain is "may-may" which is what he calls his blanket.  No idea how that sound came to be associated in his brain with blanket, but oh well, at least we know what he's talking about! 

Baby P doesn't have too many phrases yet, but those he does have follow a very specific pattern: "Read it," "get it," "got it," "hab (have) it".  If you could hear his tone when he says these phrases, you'd understand that he can be quite bossy, I wonder whose side of the family he got that from?! 

His favorite non-verbal sound is to shriek at the top of his powerful little lungs.  Most of the time this is in reaction to his brother taking something or tackling him or whatever situation he's in that has made him unhappy.  I can mostly distinguish between this general shriek that we hear all the time and a genuine cry of pain, like the one that followed this shiner today, courtesy of his big brother.

Not sure if the black and blue comes through well in this picture, but it's definitely there, right under and to the side of his eye!

Baby P has a very forceful, exuberant personality and I love the ways that it comes through in the way he speaks to us.  For better or worse I have my hands full with this kid.  I'm pretty sure "no" will continue to be a key word in Baby P's vocabulary with me and vice versa! 

Up next - update on Little B!