Summer vacation is officially over. And . . . hmm. I thought I'd be glad, but this has felt like a season of endings the last few weeks. I'm looking for a job (and wow, that is much more difficult than I expected, but that's a thought for another day). I haven't held a full-time job in ten years, so this is a real titan of a change for us. This was probably my last summer at home, and I wonder . . . did I enjoy it enough? Did I appreciate the gift of being home with my boys the way I should have?
Big boy will be looking at middle school next year. Little brother will be looking at third grade, and really isn't a little boy any longer. Although he'll always be my baby, he's growing up, and seven is shaping up to be a good year for him.
Maybe I should look at what we accomplished this summer:
* The boys and I spent about three weeks working through age-appropriate Bible studies, which was some precious time learning more about God's word. They loved it, and so did I.
* Little brother really got comfortable with chapter books this summer. We spent lots of quality time with library books and all enjoyed reading.
* I've seen the boys change in their play. They are imagining together now, and it's such a treat to watch them. They have hideouts and are really enjoying one another's company.
* We spent wonderful time with our families this summer, helping them celebrate milestones in their lives. My grandmother celebrated her 85th birthday, and Hawkeye's parents celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary.
* Hawkeye and I celebrated our 15th anniversary with a relaxing, wonderful cruise. I enjoy his company more now than I ever have, and we appreciated the time to enjoy our marriage. Thanks, Mom!
* I learned to can. I've canned salsa, tomato sauce, and today, watermelon rind preserves.
So, maybe this has been a good summer. Busy, but with good things. Fast, but packed with memories to savor. The boys are excited about school, so on with the school year!
Showing posts with label the boys. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the boys. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Oh, yes, I did ride that carnival ride
Tuesday night, we went to a county fair. One that operates on a very large scale. It also, coincidentally, requires a capital investment roughly equivalent to our grocery budget for a couple of weeks. Oh, I wish I were kidding.
Little brother was disappointed that he was almost tall enough to ride some of the really cool rides. We did not allow big boy to taunt him, because really, having to be measured and coming up short is enough trauma for one day. We let him play some of the overpriced carnival games instead. He won a small stuffed puppy, so that was some consolation.
What mom liked: the fireworks; the cotton candy; that Hawkeye rode the rides with the boys; the very, very cute little farmer display that involved the children interacting at different stations (station one: acquiring corn and soybeans; station two: planting some of the corn and soybeans, and harvesting plastic produce; so on and so forth, until they sell their products at the farmer's market and spend their loot on an agricultural item - milk, ice cream, animal crackers or an apple). This was a wonderful idea, and was well-executed and fun for all the kids.
What the boys liked: the rides - the end.
What Hawkeye liked: spending time with the boys. When the rides ended. What his stomach did not like: the rides - the end.
So, for the last ride of the night, Hawkeye and big boy were riding something where little brother did not measure up. So, he wants to go back and ride something else. Which they wouldn't let him ride without an adult. Which is how mom ended up riding this carnival ride that literally flung you from one place to another as it revolved. Can I mention that I am almost 37 years old (next week) and am really past enjoying carnival rides? However, I was not willing to disappoint little brother any further, so I got on it. What my stomach, arm, neck, and other parts of my anatomy did not like: the ride. The end.
Little brother was disappointed that he was almost tall enough to ride some of the really cool rides. We did not allow big boy to taunt him, because really, having to be measured and coming up short is enough trauma for one day. We let him play some of the overpriced carnival games instead. He won a small stuffed puppy, so that was some consolation.
What mom liked: the fireworks; the cotton candy; that Hawkeye rode the rides with the boys; the very, very cute little farmer display that involved the children interacting at different stations (station one: acquiring corn and soybeans; station two: planting some of the corn and soybeans, and harvesting plastic produce; so on and so forth, until they sell their products at the farmer's market and spend their loot on an agricultural item - milk, ice cream, animal crackers or an apple). This was a wonderful idea, and was well-executed and fun for all the kids.
What the boys liked: the rides - the end.
What Hawkeye liked: spending time with the boys. When the rides ended. What his stomach did not like: the rides - the end.
So, for the last ride of the night, Hawkeye and big boy were riding something where little brother did not measure up. So, he wants to go back and ride something else. Which they wouldn't let him ride without an adult. Which is how mom ended up riding this carnival ride that literally flung you from one place to another as it revolved. Can I mention that I am almost 37 years old (next week) and am really past enjoying carnival rides? However, I was not willing to disappoint little brother any further, so I got on it. What my stomach, arm, neck, and other parts of my anatomy did not like: the ride. The end.
Monday, July 28, 2008
Small joys for a cloudy day
Sounds to make a mom's heart glad:
--overheard discussions from the boys' room: today this involves each of them constructing and fortifying a base, making lots of noises and sound effects, and working together happily;
--sweet offerings from a son's heart: "Mom, can I help you?" is heard pretty frequently around here lately, and oh, it's a sweet sound indeed;
--giggling. Just giggling over nothing, their usual brand of general silliness, but it makes me happy that their hearts are carefree.
Bright additions to any day:
--two boys happily sharing the tire swing, sitting side by side and swinging lazily;
--hugs. They still hug me freely, without self-consciousness or embarrassment, and I'm so grateful.
--happy faces, grinning completely from ear to ear, smiling at each other, at me, at the world.
Today is a good day.
--overheard discussions from the boys' room: today this involves each of them constructing and fortifying a base, making lots of noises and sound effects, and working together happily;
--sweet offerings from a son's heart: "Mom, can I help you?" is heard pretty frequently around here lately, and oh, it's a sweet sound indeed;
--giggling. Just giggling over nothing, their usual brand of general silliness, but it makes me happy that their hearts are carefree.
Bright additions to any day:
--two boys happily sharing the tire swing, sitting side by side and swinging lazily;
--hugs. They still hug me freely, without self-consciousness or embarrassment, and I'm so grateful.
--happy faces, grinning completely from ear to ear, smiling at each other, at me, at the world.
Today is a good day.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
The Summer of Extreme Traveling (TM) is now over
. . . . and we are officially tired. I tend to be a terrible traveler, and get cranky and sore, and I'm not sure that I ever want to travel that much, that closely packed together, ever again.
However. I have to say that we had wonderful, sweet visits with family. The kind where everybody is laughing, kidding around, and just enjoying each other's company. The ones that make you wish family vacations or something like them were an option more often, because we love our families a lot, and we just don't see them enough.
The boys had a ball playing with all of their cousins, doing silly kid things that they will remember fondly someday. Things that involved lots of giggling and running around and noise. The kinds of fun things I still remember from my childhood.
There was also some swimming in hotel pools (because as far as they are concerned, that is why we travel), and spending quality time with the travel DVD players. Because when it comes to traveling, I am a wimp, and let them watch more TV in a week's time than they watched in the previous six months. Which might leave them a smidgen, tiny bit, overstimulated and cranky. (Note to self: come up with some better TV rules before the next road trip, which better not be any time soon).
So, summer is now winding down for us. We finish Vacation Bible School tonight, and then there's about two weeks until school starts. What a summer!
However. I have to say that we had wonderful, sweet visits with family. The kind where everybody is laughing, kidding around, and just enjoying each other's company. The ones that make you wish family vacations or something like them were an option more often, because we love our families a lot, and we just don't see them enough.
The boys had a ball playing with all of their cousins, doing silly kid things that they will remember fondly someday. Things that involved lots of giggling and running around and noise. The kinds of fun things I still remember from my childhood.
There was also some swimming in hotel pools (because as far as they are concerned, that is why we travel), and spending quality time with the travel DVD players. Because when it comes to traveling, I am a wimp, and let them watch more TV in a week's time than they watched in the previous six months. Which might leave them a smidgen, tiny bit, overstimulated and cranky. (Note to self: come up with some better TV rules before the next road trip, which better not be any time soon).
So, summer is now winding down for us. We finish Vacation Bible School tonight, and then there's about two weeks until school starts. What a summer!
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Ten is uncharted territory here
Oh, the big boy in our house. Ten has already flung down the gauntlet, making it clear that we are in for some massive changes. His body is changing -- not puberty, not yet, God is good -- but how he is put together. He's getting more muscular, heavier, more capable. He brings in groceries now without much trouble (misslisslee hums the Hallelujah chorus). He's developing a sense of humor that is more grown-up (happily bidding good-bye to the knock-knock jokes that make no sense at all).
He's getting glasses today. He's reading big, thick books (he remarked a couple of days ago that 300-400 pages seemed about the ideal book size to him). His little brother is really driving him nuts (isn't that why little brothers exist?), but he's trying to be patient. At least when mom and dad are around.
He's thinking differently. He told me yesterday that, when he and dad were driving to church Sunday morning, they listened to part of a sermon on the radio, and he liked it. It was from the book of Romans and was talking about the law, and he remembered seemingly everything he heard. He seems like a sponge more than ever lately, soaking up everything that comes his way.
So, ten is good. We're going to be wrestling with it a bit, I think, but it's good. I'm so thankful for this boy, who is tiptoeing toward that path that will turn him into a man. I'm so scared that I'm not mothering him like I should, and so grateful for grace. For the Lord who decreed that I am the mother this child needs loves him so much more than I can. He is the God who sees, as he told Hagar, and he sees us today. He knows that I will fall short, and I believe that He will make up the difference.
My job is to keep His word as a lamp for my feet and a light for my path, and hopefully to show ten the path to eleven, and then twelve, and I justcan'tthinkanyfartherthanthatrightnow. And to remind my heart that mothering is a job that changes every day, and eventually involves letting go. So today, I'm picking up that gauntlet and meeting the challenge. Ten, let's see what you've got!
He's getting glasses today. He's reading big, thick books (he remarked a couple of days ago that 300-400 pages seemed about the ideal book size to him). His little brother is really driving him nuts (isn't that why little brothers exist?), but he's trying to be patient. At least when mom and dad are around.
He's thinking differently. He told me yesterday that, when he and dad were driving to church Sunday morning, they listened to part of a sermon on the radio, and he liked it. It was from the book of Romans and was talking about the law, and he remembered seemingly everything he heard. He seems like a sponge more than ever lately, soaking up everything that comes his way.
So, ten is good. We're going to be wrestling with it a bit, I think, but it's good. I'm so thankful for this boy, who is tiptoeing toward that path that will turn him into a man. I'm so scared that I'm not mothering him like I should, and so grateful for grace. For the Lord who decreed that I am the mother this child needs loves him so much more than I can. He is the God who sees, as he told Hagar, and he sees us today. He knows that I will fall short, and I believe that He will make up the difference.
My job is to keep His word as a lamp for my feet and a light for my path, and hopefully to show ten the path to eleven, and then twelve, and I justcan'tthinkanyfartherthanthatrightnow. And to remind my heart that mothering is a job that changes every day, and eventually involves letting go. So today, I'm picking up that gauntlet and meeting the challenge. Ten, let's see what you've got!
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Your Regularly Scheduled Blog Post Has Been Interrupted . . .
By The Summer of Extreme TravelingTM. Since last we met, various members of the intrepid Hawkeye family have suffered the indignities of: Cub Scout Day Camp; a 7-day cruise (suffering horribly, as you can imagine); a six-hour layover in Logan airport before a puddle-jumper flight from Boston via Washington, DC to Nashville (why, oh WHY did we not check out what plane was flying this route?); and Scout Camp (involving actual camping in an un-air-conditioned tent). This is just the beginning. We also are making two other trips this summer to see family, and a 16-hour day trip with the church to go and see a museum.
These serious indignities are aggravated by the threatening malady summerus curtailedus, because the kids go back to school on August 8th. Wow, that is only a month away! Mom is also going to be going back to work full-time, so let the changes begin!
These serious indignities are aggravated by the threatening malady summerus curtailedus, because the kids go back to school on August 8th. Wow, that is only a month away! Mom is also going to be going back to work full-time, so let the changes begin!
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Where Did May Go?
Which might be a silly question, given that it's already 10 days into June. (Isn't it? I just had to check a calendar to make sure). I feel like I have lost about three weeks somewhere and am running perpetually behind on what I need to get done.
Take last week, for example. It was Cub Scout Day Camp time here in the Peach household. This is our third year for day camp, and I always volunteer. This year, the camp was over 300 boys, and in my position, I see them all at least once during camp, and usually a few times apiece. Additionally, just for kicks, it was much hotter than it normally is the first week of June. Amazingly enough, this didn't bother the boys at all. Just the 'old folks' like me.
I kept thinking, for the last three weeks, that I still had plenty of time to prepare my materials. Until Memorial Day had been and gone, school was out, and my deadline was suddenly a few days away. The blessing is that I've had the same position for two years now, and I could coast a bit.
Was it worth it? Absolutely. In my experience, Scouts are one of the few organizations left that actively teaches noble character traits like cooperation, sportsmanship, responsibility, honesty, and respectfulness in a systematic way, and the success rate is pretty good, all things considered. A great example of that success rate is that there were probably 30-40 Boy Scouts, from 11 to 16 or 17 years old, who volunteered their time all week to help out with these younger boys. Just a great group of boys who, on the whole, were lacking the attitudes that are common at that age and were providing a great example to the younger boys.
Anyway, that's where we've been. This was the big boy's last year at day camp, and he's pretty sad about it. My last year, however, is a few years in the future -- little guy still has three years to go!
Take last week, for example. It was Cub Scout Day Camp time here in the Peach household. This is our third year for day camp, and I always volunteer. This year, the camp was over 300 boys, and in my position, I see them all at least once during camp, and usually a few times apiece. Additionally, just for kicks, it was much hotter than it normally is the first week of June. Amazingly enough, this didn't bother the boys at all. Just the 'old folks' like me.
I kept thinking, for the last three weeks, that I still had plenty of time to prepare my materials. Until Memorial Day had been and gone, school was out, and my deadline was suddenly a few days away. The blessing is that I've had the same position for two years now, and I could coast a bit.
Was it worth it? Absolutely. In my experience, Scouts are one of the few organizations left that actively teaches noble character traits like cooperation, sportsmanship, responsibility, honesty, and respectfulness in a systematic way, and the success rate is pretty good, all things considered. A great example of that success rate is that there were probably 30-40 Boy Scouts, from 11 to 16 or 17 years old, who volunteered their time all week to help out with these younger boys. Just a great group of boys who, on the whole, were lacking the attitudes that are common at that age and were providing a great example to the younger boys.
Anyway, that's where we've been. This was the big boy's last year at day camp, and he's pretty sad about it. My last year, however, is a few years in the future -- little guy still has three years to go!
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Unintentional Humor, Courtesy of the Big Boy
I had a lovely Mother's Day. Complete with presents, a custom-grilled lunch by Chef Hawkeye, and lots of love from my boys.
My favorite present? A book that Big Boy made at school. He didn't mean it to be funny. But oh, it is.
Top Ten Reasons Why I Love My Mom, by Big Boy
#1: Well, you're my mom! (translated: doesn't that mean I HAVE to love you?)
#2: Because you're preety (hee, hee!)
#3: You cook DELICIOUS meals (translated: hey, we gave you a new stockpot, can you finally make me some homemade chicken noodle soup?)
#4: You take me on trips
#5: You love me (this made me think of the Barney song)
#6: You get me presents
#7: You buy me books
#8: You buy me toys (perhaps he's a bit materialistic?)
#9: You don't homeschool me (this one really cracked me up, and he totally didn't get why. He's quite serious, and all I'm thinking is that he's thanking me for not cooping him up in the house with me all day. I have no idea where this came from -- I have two dear friends who homeschool, and it's not like we've ever discussed it. Oh, the workings of that boy's mind!)
#10: You are the best mommy you can be (or, you can't help it that you can't do any better, you're just doing your best with what you have, poor thing)
Ya'll. So funny. The last ten years have been lots of growing and stretching and worrying and praying and changing, but so fun. These boys of mine amaze me every day!
My favorite present? A book that Big Boy made at school. He didn't mean it to be funny. But oh, it is.
Top Ten Reasons Why I Love My Mom, by Big Boy
#1: Well, you're my mom! (translated: doesn't that mean I HAVE to love you?)
#2: Because you're preety (hee, hee!)
#3: You cook DELICIOUS meals (translated: hey, we gave you a new stockpot, can you finally make me some homemade chicken noodle soup?)
#4: You take me on trips
#5: You love me (this made me think of the Barney song)
#6: You get me presents
#7: You buy me books
#8: You buy me toys (perhaps he's a bit materialistic?)
#9: You don't homeschool me (this one really cracked me up, and he totally didn't get why. He's quite serious, and all I'm thinking is that he's thanking me for not cooping him up in the house with me all day. I have no idea where this came from -- I have two dear friends who homeschool, and it's not like we've ever discussed it. Oh, the workings of that boy's mind!)
#10: You are the best mommy you can be (or, you can't help it that you can't do any better, you're just doing your best with what you have, poor thing)
Ya'll. So funny. The last ten years have been lots of growing and stretching and worrying and praying and changing, but so fun. These boys of mine amaze me every day!
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
So, That's How I Learned I'm Not in Control. The End.
The big boy had a rough 3-4 months, but left the hospital healthy and hasn't looked back since.
So, for anyone who is uncertain of God's care and His mercy, I can tell you -- your child is so safe in His hands. The one who created that child and knew him before you did (see Psalm 139) loves him more than you are even capable of loving.
I find that so comforting. Especially when I am looking at a completely normal, wonderful 10-year-old boy who survived and has thrived, without any long-term disabilities from his prematurity. That's God's hand. I don't know why, or what God has planned for his future, but I know that He's the one who has gotten us this far, and He doesn't change.
That makes it easier to give Him control of our direction. I know, now, that He is who He says He is, and that He is so much more capable than I am. And I am being reminded by our new Bible study of Philippians that my purpose is to glorify Him in everything. So I will, today, choose to remember what He has done, and look forward to what He is doing and will do in the future.
So, for anyone who is uncertain of God's care and His mercy, I can tell you -- your child is so safe in His hands. The one who created that child and knew him before you did (see Psalm 139) loves him more than you are even capable of loving.
I find that so comforting. Especially when I am looking at a completely normal, wonderful 10-year-old boy who survived and has thrived, without any long-term disabilities from his prematurity. That's God's hand. I don't know why, or what God has planned for his future, but I know that He's the one who has gotten us this far, and He doesn't change.
That makes it easier to give Him control of our direction. I know, now, that He is who He says He is, and that He is so much more capable than I am. And I am being reminded by our new Bible study of Philippians that my purpose is to glorify Him in everything. So I will, today, choose to remember what He has done, and look forward to what He is doing and will do in the future.
Monday, May 5, 2008
He's 10 Today!
Ten years today, I was waking up in the hospital. About four days prior, I had been awakened from a deep sleep (all my sleep is deep, a family trait, I guess) by labor pains. I was 23 1/2 weeks pregnant, and scared to death. I woke up my husband, called my doctor, and we raced to the hospital (no mean feat in Atlanta when the hospital is 40 minutes away and involves travel on two different interstates).
When we got to the hospital, a nurse examined me. She must have the best poker face in all the world, because I had no idea anything was really wrong. She said she would get the doctor and left. Later, she said that she had felt a foot. Obviously that wasn't right, but again, I didn't know that yet. The doctor came in (not my doctor), examined me, and brutally informed us of a string of facts: 1. I would not be leaving the hospital until my baby was born, as the amniotic sac was bulging out and that was why I was having labor pains; 2. She was ordering a steroid shot (for the baby's lungs) and for me to be put on a negative incline (called Trendellenburg) in the bed to hopefully allow gravity to work with us; 3. She didn't have a lot of hope in all of this.
We were frantic. I cried a lot, my mom cried a lot, the Hawkeye just looked very stunned and tried to deal with the crying women.
So, this was how I found myself waking up in the hospital the morning of May 5. Just like every other morning up until then. I had no idea that Big Boy would be born that day. But God did. Nothing surprises him.
When we got to the hospital, a nurse examined me. She must have the best poker face in all the world, because I had no idea anything was really wrong. She said she would get the doctor and left. Later, she said that she had felt a foot. Obviously that wasn't right, but again, I didn't know that yet. The doctor came in (not my doctor), examined me, and brutally informed us of a string of facts: 1. I would not be leaving the hospital until my baby was born, as the amniotic sac was bulging out and that was why I was having labor pains; 2. She was ordering a steroid shot (for the baby's lungs) and for me to be put on a negative incline (called Trendellenburg) in the bed to hopefully allow gravity to work with us; 3. She didn't have a lot of hope in all of this.
We were frantic. I cried a lot, my mom cried a lot, the Hawkeye just looked very stunned and tried to deal with the crying women.
So, this was how I found myself waking up in the hospital the morning of May 5. Just like every other morning up until then. I had no idea that Big Boy would be born that day. But God did. Nothing surprises him.
Monday, April 28, 2008
The Big Boy Turns Ten in a Week
Ten years ago today, I was a clueless woman. I was ecstatically, finally pregnant (not quite six months), my job was moderately stressful but involved lots of fun things, and I was planning. The nursery, staying home with my child, dinner, all of those important things. I really thought I had the world by the tail.
It's a funny thing. I can see now that it was a process, of God teaching me that I'm not in control and my life is more than safe in His hands, but at the time, I just didn't get it.
We had a hard time conceiving a child. As in, it just wasn't working for us, and we were going through all of the lovely, humiliating, letting-people-in-your-private-business stuff that is infertility testing and treatment. A process that, I'm well aware, can take even longer for some people, but for us it took about two years.
I struggled. Life had always happened on my timetable, and this just wasn't working out that way. I pleaded with God, I begged for direction, I tried to make bargains, and then. Finally. After much struggling and trying to do it my way. I really gave it to Him. I got on my face and told Him that I could even live with a 'no', if that was His answer. I just was at the end of my rope, unable to live with the uncertainty and living month-to-month that we were doing.
And then it happened. I took the eleven millionth pregnancy test of my life (I have a condition that makes the normal, oh-I'm-late indicators happen on a regular basis), and it was actually positive. So I made the Hawkeye go to the store with me to get another. Also positive. I was really sure that it was a mistake. But it wasn't. God had said yes. He had been waiting for me to learn my lesson and finally give Him total control over the whole thing.
So. I was pregnant. I went into full-control-freak mode on the pregnancy. The doctor says no caffeine? Okay. More fruits and vegetables? Check. Lots of milk? Got it. I think if the doctor had said I couldn't breathe the air, I would have found a way to have done that, too. I never really had morning sickness (made up for that with younger son), and I really felt pretty good. All systems go. I had it all handled.
And then God got my attention again. To be continued . . .
It's a funny thing. I can see now that it was a process, of God teaching me that I'm not in control and my life is more than safe in His hands, but at the time, I just didn't get it.
We had a hard time conceiving a child. As in, it just wasn't working for us, and we were going through all of the lovely, humiliating, letting-people-in-your-private-business stuff that is infertility testing and treatment. A process that, I'm well aware, can take even longer for some people, but for us it took about two years.
I struggled. Life had always happened on my timetable, and this just wasn't working out that way. I pleaded with God, I begged for direction, I tried to make bargains, and then. Finally. After much struggling and trying to do it my way. I really gave it to Him. I got on my face and told Him that I could even live with a 'no', if that was His answer. I just was at the end of my rope, unable to live with the uncertainty and living month-to-month that we were doing.
And then it happened. I took the eleven millionth pregnancy test of my life (I have a condition that makes the normal, oh-I'm-late indicators happen on a regular basis), and it was actually positive. So I made the Hawkeye go to the store with me to get another. Also positive. I was really sure that it was a mistake. But it wasn't. God had said yes. He had been waiting for me to learn my lesson and finally give Him total control over the whole thing.
So. I was pregnant. I went into full-control-freak mode on the pregnancy. The doctor says no caffeine? Okay. More fruits and vegetables? Check. Lots of milk? Got it. I think if the doctor had said I couldn't breathe the air, I would have found a way to have done that, too. I never really had morning sickness (made up for that with younger son), and I really felt pretty good. All systems go. I had it all handled.
And then God got my attention again. To be continued . . .
Monday, April 14, 2008
Cub Scouts and Camping
Friday afternoon saw us setting out for a weekend of camping. After the massive deluge and occasional rumble of thunder was over, which meant it would be cold this weekend.
Camping is really not on my list of favorite things. When I was pregnant with younger son, I mentioned emphatically to my husband that I would no longer be sleeping on the ground, and if he wanted to continue camping as a family, it would be in a camper. So we bought a pop-up camper. We really enjoyed that camper, but after the second time it was damaged in a windstorm while parked at our house, we decided to part with it. We moved to this house shortly before that, and all the males at my house have been content for two years to camp out in the yard. Which meant that I got to sleep in my bed.
However. Since I have two sons who are now Cub Scouts, I knew I couldn't hold out against the camping forever. I've gone to campouts for the day and gone home, which was working for me. Not so much for my boys. So, the Hawkeye bought me a camping cot (oh, that is the way to go), and I agreed to go camping at our district family campout.
It was 38 degrees when we all woke up Sunday morning. I still haven't really gotten warm. It was muddy and windy. And damp. And drizzling as we packed up to go home.
However. I really had fun! The boys were experiencing the full-court-press of outdoor activity-laden excitement. They ran, they yelled, they played in a fort, a castle, and an indian village, they poked in the campfire, they shot off air-powered pop bottle rockets, they played parachute games and noodle hockey. They played football and pirates. And I loved watching them, participating with them, and visiting with the other parents (the Hawkeye says he is proud. I was the only mom there).
It's a funny thing about scouting. It's really family-oriented, unlike sports. Most of the people are nice, considerate and helpful, and trying to teach their sons to be the same way (again, unlike many of the sports teams we have seen).
So, am I a camper now? Not a backpacker, for sure. That cot is pretty heavy. However, we did go buy me a new sleeping bag when we got home yesterday. It has a memory foam liner. I think that's maybe princess-style camping.
Camping is really not on my list of favorite things. When I was pregnant with younger son, I mentioned emphatically to my husband that I would no longer be sleeping on the ground, and if he wanted to continue camping as a family, it would be in a camper. So we bought a pop-up camper. We really enjoyed that camper, but after the second time it was damaged in a windstorm while parked at our house, we decided to part with it. We moved to this house shortly before that, and all the males at my house have been content for two years to camp out in the yard. Which meant that I got to sleep in my bed.
However. Since I have two sons who are now Cub Scouts, I knew I couldn't hold out against the camping forever. I've gone to campouts for the day and gone home, which was working for me. Not so much for my boys. So, the Hawkeye bought me a camping cot (oh, that is the way to go), and I agreed to go camping at our district family campout.
It was 38 degrees when we all woke up Sunday morning. I still haven't really gotten warm. It was muddy and windy. And damp. And drizzling as we packed up to go home.
However. I really had fun! The boys were experiencing the full-court-press of outdoor activity-laden excitement. They ran, they yelled, they played in a fort, a castle, and an indian village, they poked in the campfire, they shot off air-powered pop bottle rockets, they played parachute games and noodle hockey. They played football and pirates. And I loved watching them, participating with them, and visiting with the other parents (the Hawkeye says he is proud. I was the only mom there).
It's a funny thing about scouting. It's really family-oriented, unlike sports. Most of the people are nice, considerate and helpful, and trying to teach their sons to be the same way (again, unlike many of the sports teams we have seen).
So, am I a camper now? Not a backpacker, for sure. That cot is pretty heavy. However, we did go buy me a new sleeping bag when we got home yesterday. It has a memory foam liner. I think that's maybe princess-style camping.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Sweet hearts
The Volunteer family has finally caught the flu this year. First, the Hawkeye had it (and was miserable and out of work for three days which should have been five). Then, older son has caught it, as I have. Younger son is incredibly proud that he is the only one in the family who hasn't been sick.
Younger son also has such a sweet heart and boundless energy. We don't do Easter bunnies and baskets and such, but we do let them participate in the egg hunts at school, since they aren't competing with our worship and appreciation of what Easter is. So, he had some plastic eggs. When I dragged myself out of bed on Easter morning, I found the sweetest surprise! Younger son had put together an egg for each of us and put them at our places at the table. They each were full of his candy and a note that said "Happy Easter!" That is so typical of his heart.
Usually, we make resurrection cookies on Easter. The recipe includes a Bible study to go with the cookie ingredients. You pound nuts and read about how Jesus was flogged, smell and measure vinegar and read about how Jesus was given it to drink on the cross, taste salt and read about the tears of the women as he was crucified. Then, when adding egg whites and beating them, you read about how His sacrifice has made us whiter than snow. They're meringue cookies, so you seal the oven (like sealing the tomb) and turn it off. The next morning, the cookies are ready and are hollow inside like the empty tomb. This has really been a meaningful tradition for our family. So, we made them last night instead. Which is typical of us -- a day late and a dollar short most of the time!
Younger son also has such a sweet heart and boundless energy. We don't do Easter bunnies and baskets and such, but we do let them participate in the egg hunts at school, since they aren't competing with our worship and appreciation of what Easter is. So, he had some plastic eggs. When I dragged myself out of bed on Easter morning, I found the sweetest surprise! Younger son had put together an egg for each of us and put them at our places at the table. They each were full of his candy and a note that said "Happy Easter!" That is so typical of his heart.
Usually, we make resurrection cookies on Easter. The recipe includes a Bible study to go with the cookie ingredients. You pound nuts and read about how Jesus was flogged, smell and measure vinegar and read about how Jesus was given it to drink on the cross, taste salt and read about the tears of the women as he was crucified. Then, when adding egg whites and beating them, you read about how His sacrifice has made us whiter than snow. They're meringue cookies, so you seal the oven (like sealing the tomb) and turn it off. The next morning, the cookies are ready and are hollow inside like the empty tomb. This has really been a meaningful tradition for our family. So, we made them last night instead. Which is typical of us -- a day late and a dollar short most of the time!
Thursday, March 20, 2008
In which little girls are apparently thick on the ground . . .
The scene: My two boys, neither of whom has hit double digits, are eating dinner at home with me and my husband. Older boy has burped with a wide-open mouth for, oh, maybe the fifth time in the meal. Mom is DONE. So, I try to make this a teaching time, you know, about life.
Me: Older son, you know some day, when you're 17 or 18, you're going to want to take a pretty girl out on a date. If ya'll are sitting at the table and you do that, she is going to want you to take her right home, and won't go out with you again.
Older son: (nonchalantly) So, that's when I'll need a back-up plan.
Me: (totally confused) A back-up plan?
Younger son: (In the well-of-course-voice) Yeah, another little girl.
Me: (trying to smother instant laughter) Well, see there's a problem with that plan. Teen-age girls would talk about these things, and the first little girl would tell the second about how older son has horrible manners.
Younger son: (shrugs eloquently, like of course this is no big deal): Well, then you need a third little girl.
Older son: (piling on here) Yeah.
My husband: Laughing uncontrollably.
Me: Also laughing uncontrollably, and thinking well, at this rate, I won't have to worry about them dating at all.
Just an example. The younger son is six, and honey, we rarely catch him flatfooted. He has an answer for everything. Maybe in my retirement years he can support me with his lawyer's salary.
Me: Older son, you know some day, when you're 17 or 18, you're going to want to take a pretty girl out on a date. If ya'll are sitting at the table and you do that, she is going to want you to take her right home, and won't go out with you again.
Older son: (nonchalantly) So, that's when I'll need a back-up plan.
Me: (totally confused) A back-up plan?
Younger son: (In the well-of-course-voice) Yeah, another little girl.
Me: (trying to smother instant laughter) Well, see there's a problem with that plan. Teen-age girls would talk about these things, and the first little girl would tell the second about how older son has horrible manners.
Younger son: (shrugs eloquently, like of course this is no big deal): Well, then you need a third little girl.
Older son: (piling on here) Yeah.
My husband: Laughing uncontrollably.
Me: Also laughing uncontrollably, and thinking well, at this rate, I won't have to worry about them dating at all.
Just an example. The younger son is six, and honey, we rarely catch him flatfooted. He has an answer for everything. Maybe in my retirement years he can support me with his lawyer's salary.
Friday, February 1, 2008
Sick days and Miracles
The big boy has been home sick for the past two days. Which is something that has rarely happened since he had his tonsils and adenoids out just before he turned 2. It's really amazing how quickly they're no longer little any more -- it used to be that when he was sick, I was constantly needed for something. Now, he doesn't want me hovering over him, he wants a book, maybe some TV, and peace and quiet. Which is pretty much what I want when I get sick. But somehow, that leaves me feeling like I'm not doing my job.
It's amazing how quickly I can forget to appreciate that he is here at all. Big boy was born at 24 weeks gestation, weighing 1.6 lbs, almost 10 years ago. He spent about four months in the hospital, with lots of complications along the way, but came home healthy and hasn't had to be hospitalized since, except for one night with the tonsillectomy. He is a miracle walking around (or actually today, lying around) in my house. He shouldn't be leading a happy, healthy fourth-grader's life, but he is, because God has a plan for him --- that involves growing up! (which is intended to make Moms obsolete, isn't it?)
We are going today for a blood test that might show a slight problem with his endocrine system and I have been all worked up about this, worrying as if my life (or his) depended on it. As if I didn't learn almost ten years ago that God is in control, and I am not. A point that was pretty emphatically driven home when I couldn't even control my own body to keep him from being born.
I remembered this morning, looking at him, what it felt like to look at him when he was little, and sick, and so needy. And instead of feeling unnecessary (which I've been struggling with a bit lately), I think I'll choose instead to be grateful. If he doesn't need me so much, it's by God's grace. If he has this small problem, it's manageable -- and that's by God's grace, too. So, maybe I'll be obsolete as a Mom someday. But if God has a plan for him, he has one for me, too. Plans to prosper, and not to harm. Plans for hope, and a future -- and I can't wait!
It's amazing how quickly I can forget to appreciate that he is here at all. Big boy was born at 24 weeks gestation, weighing 1.6 lbs, almost 10 years ago. He spent about four months in the hospital, with lots of complications along the way, but came home healthy and hasn't had to be hospitalized since, except for one night with the tonsillectomy. He is a miracle walking around (or actually today, lying around) in my house. He shouldn't be leading a happy, healthy fourth-grader's life, but he is, because God has a plan for him --- that involves growing up! (which is intended to make Moms obsolete, isn't it?)
We are going today for a blood test that might show a slight problem with his endocrine system and I have been all worked up about this, worrying as if my life (or his) depended on it. As if I didn't learn almost ten years ago that God is in control, and I am not. A point that was pretty emphatically driven home when I couldn't even control my own body to keep him from being born.
I remembered this morning, looking at him, what it felt like to look at him when he was little, and sick, and so needy. And instead of feeling unnecessary (which I've been struggling with a bit lately), I think I'll choose instead to be grateful. If he doesn't need me so much, it's by God's grace. If he has this small problem, it's manageable -- and that's by God's grace, too. So, maybe I'll be obsolete as a Mom someday. But if God has a plan for him, he has one for me, too. Plans to prosper, and not to harm. Plans for hope, and a future -- and I can't wait!
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Veggies, Marketing, and Unexpected Insight
Although my older son is a bit old for them now, we went to see the new Veggie Tales movie yesterday. Older son actually has never been a huge Veggie fan, but indulges me (especially since we only go to the movies once a year or less). My younger son always enjoys the funny songs and action, action, action! (Having boys is so much fun, ya'll. Except when they've been cooped up too long and all that energy goes toward picking on one another.)
The movie was really cute and entertaining, although the songs did feel a bit grafted on to the story. I have to say, however, that movie previews have become significantly longer in the last few years. And why do movies rated G have previews for movies that are not rated G? There were fully 20 minutes' worth of previews before the movie started, and is it just me, or are they exponentially louder than the movie itself? (can you tell we don't get out much?)
Elder son actually got the allegory behind the story. When I asked them who the king was meant to represent, I wasn't expecting them to have the answer. I was really just making conversation, as we were sitting in a parking lot waiting for the next item on our busy social calendar to begin. He really surprised me by getting a lot of the symbolism in the movie. Oh, this former English teacher's heart grew three sizes that day. Or something like that.
The movie was really cute and entertaining, although the songs did feel a bit grafted on to the story. I have to say, however, that movie previews have become significantly longer in the last few years. And why do movies rated G have previews for movies that are not rated G? There were fully 20 minutes' worth of previews before the movie started, and is it just me, or are they exponentially louder than the movie itself? (can you tell we don't get out much?)
Elder son actually got the allegory behind the story. When I asked them who the king was meant to represent, I wasn't expecting them to have the answer. I was really just making conversation, as we were sitting in a parking lot waiting for the next item on our busy social calendar to begin. He really surprised me by getting a lot of the symbolism in the movie. Oh, this former English teacher's heart grew three sizes that day. Or something like that.
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
On Obedience
It struck me this morning, as I was explaining to my six-year-old that obey means do what you're told, when you're told to do it yet again, that sometimes I give God the same excuses my son gives to me. Such as:
--I didn't hear you. Oh, were you talking to me? I thought that was merely one of those stray thoughts that I could feel free to ignore. Because it didn't seem like something I would want to do.
--I forgot. Oh, that deny yourself and take up your cross thing? Well, I didn't think about that today. I was too busy.
--I thought you meant my brother. You know, the one who is more gifted and talented than me. Or just older and more experienced. Or more energetic. Or less busy.
Wow. That's some serious opportunity for improving my discipline staring me in the face. I wonder if I disappoint and frustrate God as often as my boys disappoint and frustrate me by not obeying? And if part of this parenthood journey is meant to open my eyes to where God is wanting to work on me? Thank you, Lord, that Your mercy is new every morning. May I do a better job of showing your mercy to those you have entrusted to my care.
--I didn't hear you. Oh, were you talking to me? I thought that was merely one of those stray thoughts that I could feel free to ignore. Because it didn't seem like something I would want to do.
--I forgot. Oh, that deny yourself and take up your cross thing? Well, I didn't think about that today. I was too busy.
--I thought you meant my brother. You know, the one who is more gifted and talented than me. Or just older and more experienced. Or more energetic. Or less busy.
Wow. That's some serious opportunity for improving my discipline staring me in the face. I wonder if I disappoint and frustrate God as often as my boys disappoint and frustrate me by not obeying? And if part of this parenthood journey is meant to open my eyes to where God is wanting to work on me? Thank you, Lord, that Your mercy is new every morning. May I do a better job of showing your mercy to those you have entrusted to my care.
Monday, January 14, 2008
Maybe no isn't a bad word, after all
I just read this post and I find that I have the same problem. My extended family, folks at the school, and sometimes even my husband all think that since I am a stay-at-home mom and my kids are in school all day, I must have massive amounts of free time just waiting for them to lay claim to it. And I feel guilty that I'm not the world's best at time management, so I think:
1) I should be able to do that . . . . and say yes. Or
2) If I don't do it, who will? . . . . and say yes. Or
3) that won't take much time . . . . and say yes. Or
4) the boys will be really happy if I do that . . . and say yes. Or
5) I don't want to admit that I don't really have time for that . . .. and say yes.
In reality, what often happens is . . .
1) I can do that . . . but it is a massive, detail-oriented, painstaking job, and those three things make me a nervous, irritable, procrastinating wreck. Really.
2) I was not the first on the list, just the first sucker to say yes to it. And it's a job that will be mine forever now.
3) Actually, it takes a lot of time and is a drawn-out project. (I am notorious for thinking I'm going to accomplish 15 things in the time it really takes to do 2 of them. Quite a recipe for frustration.)
4) The boys couldn't care less. My oldest thinks he has been seriously deprived because he's never been in day care, so I'm thinking that he's not really good at seeing the whole picture. This reality is the reason I've really quit stressing over scrapbooking. They're boys, they are not going to want to keep 20 scrapbooks when they're adults (and at the rate I was going, that was going to be a conservative estimate!)
5) I do it, but with a poor attitude and grumping and grumbling the whole time. It makes me unpleasant to those around me and I have to seek forgiveness.
So, I'm going to pray more and longer and be slower to answer. I'm already managing my household (not well, either), facilitating 2 Bible studies (soon to be 3) and trying to run a Cub Scout pack, and that's all, folks.
So thanks, Queen B, for inspiring me to think about this topic. I want to be a woman whose priorities are in the right place: God first, my husband and kids, then those things that can be added to that list where there is time and God's blessing. I don't ever want to think I have wasted my time and talents by using them somewhere God didn't intend.
1) I should be able to do that . . . . and say yes. Or
2) If I don't do it, who will? . . . . and say yes. Or
3) that won't take much time . . . . and say yes. Or
4) the boys will be really happy if I do that . . . and say yes. Or
5) I don't want to admit that I don't really have time for that . . .. and say yes.
In reality, what often happens is . . .
1) I can do that . . . but it is a massive, detail-oriented, painstaking job, and those three things make me a nervous, irritable, procrastinating wreck. Really.
2) I was not the first on the list, just the first sucker to say yes to it. And it's a job that will be mine forever now.
3) Actually, it takes a lot of time and is a drawn-out project. (I am notorious for thinking I'm going to accomplish 15 things in the time it really takes to do 2 of them. Quite a recipe for frustration.)
4) The boys couldn't care less. My oldest thinks he has been seriously deprived because he's never been in day care, so I'm thinking that he's not really good at seeing the whole picture. This reality is the reason I've really quit stressing over scrapbooking. They're boys, they are not going to want to keep 20 scrapbooks when they're adults (and at the rate I was going, that was going to be a conservative estimate!)
5) I do it, but with a poor attitude and grumping and grumbling the whole time. It makes me unpleasant to those around me and I have to seek forgiveness.
So, I'm going to pray more and longer and be slower to answer. I'm already managing my household (not well, either), facilitating 2 Bible studies (soon to be 3) and trying to run a Cub Scout pack, and that's all, folks.
So thanks, Queen B, for inspiring me to think about this topic. I want to be a woman whose priorities are in the right place: God first, my husband and kids, then those things that can be added to that list where there is time and God's blessing. I don't ever want to think I have wasted my time and talents by using them somewhere God didn't intend.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Going to the Dentist is Fun! (Really?)
The older son (almost in double digits) has some seriously messed-up teeth. Like, we had our first taste of orthodontia at four years old messed up teeth. So, at nine years old, he's already had one of those expander contraptions and what is called Phase I of braces (basically, an Inspired Scheme to Sucker More Money Out of Us by stretching this out as long as possible). I had braces twenty years ago, but apparently the thinking nowadays (you know, since we're no longer in the Dark Ages) is to put them on when the kids are younger.
Not that this has been a problem for him. When the dentist's office is essentially a video arcade / television fun time with a brief intermission for someone to mess with your mouth, what's not to like?
However, all of this means my nine-year-old son has a retainer. Now, if you have never been to the Land of the Nine-Year-Old Boy, you have no idea of the level of crazy thinking and unexplainable behavior it contains. Just for example, this boy can't get the thought out of his head that mom is responsible for this appliance that spends most of its lifespan in his mouth. Hmmm, really? So, the result of our residence in this land is that he has lost one set of retainers and then broken the replacement, all in less than six months' time. The six-eight permanent teeth he has in his mouth are lovely and straight and all, but dude, I'm not sure this is really worth it. Keeping up with his backpack is about as much responsibility as this kid can handle, really. And some days he doesn't even do that too well.
So, the long and the short of this situation is my need to decide where we're going from here. Do we replace the retainer yet again? Do we accept that the six-eight permanent teeth might become less straight before Phase II of the bloodletting, a.k.a. paying for more braces, begins, and just ditch the retainer? Because mom is really over all this, let me tell you. Especially when I talked with the orthodontist about this yesterday, and her response was to remind me that it is really likely that, even with the retainer, his teeth won't remain straight and lovely as more permanent teeth begin coming in. Really? So Phase I of the blood, sweat and tears (and money - we're a one-income household, people) was for what, then?
In other news, second son is six, and those first permanent teeth in the front aren't looking too good. Maybe we should put him to work now.
Not that this has been a problem for him. When the dentist's office is essentially a video arcade / television fun time with a brief intermission for someone to mess with your mouth, what's not to like?
However, all of this means my nine-year-old son has a retainer. Now, if you have never been to the Land of the Nine-Year-Old Boy, you have no idea of the level of crazy thinking and unexplainable behavior it contains. Just for example, this boy can't get the thought out of his head that mom is responsible for this appliance that spends most of its lifespan in his mouth. Hmmm, really? So, the result of our residence in this land is that he has lost one set of retainers and then broken the replacement, all in less than six months' time. The six-eight permanent teeth he has in his mouth are lovely and straight and all, but dude, I'm not sure this is really worth it. Keeping up with his backpack is about as much responsibility as this kid can handle, really. And some days he doesn't even do that too well.
So, the long and the short of this situation is my need to decide where we're going from here. Do we replace the retainer yet again? Do we accept that the six-eight permanent teeth might become less straight before Phase II of the bloodletting, a.k.a. paying for more braces, begins, and just ditch the retainer? Because mom is really over all this, let me tell you. Especially when I talked with the orthodontist about this yesterday, and her response was to remind me that it is really likely that, even with the retainer, his teeth won't remain straight and lovely as more permanent teeth begin coming in. Really? So Phase I of the blood, sweat and tears (and money - we're a one-income household, people) was for what, then?
In other news, second son is six, and those first permanent teeth in the front aren't looking too good. Maybe we should put him to work now.
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