Mr. Amy

First, I just want to commend and acknowledge the working moms out there.  I have always had the utmost respect for you and all that you do, but now that I am working (part time, mind you), that respect has doubled...no...tripled!  How you do it all, I don't know.  You are the true super heros, in my opinion. As we are working on getting into a nice groove with our new schedule, I'm afraid my poor blog has received the short end of the stick.  It pains me.  Truly, it does.  As I lay my head on my pillow each night recounting all the activities of the day, the one thing that looms overhead is how negligent I've been with this blog.  I'm still working on finding balance.

While I don't have the brain cells to articulate what God's been doing in my heart and mind over the past week, I thought I'd jot down a few of the highlights:

• Allergies to cockroaches are nothing to laugh about.
• Sometimes empathy is all you can give.
• There is no sitting down on the job when you work at a preschool - there is no time to sit down.
• My son calls me "Teacher Mommy".
• I have surprised myself at how much I can actually do in a 24 hour period.
• God's grace truly is sufficient, and his power is made perfect in my weakness.
• Waking up before the rest of the world to be in the Word and pray, as difficult as it is some days, pays off when someone asks for prayer, and there is a pool of spiritual strength to draw from.
• God isn't expecting perfection, just willingness to try.
• I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.
• And finally, I have grown quite fond of being called "Mr. Amy" by the little three-year-old boy in my Friday class.  It comes out more as a "Mith-ter Amy", and my heart melts.

The lunches have been packed and prepared for the rest of the week, book bags are sitting by the door, clothes set out, and the coffee pot ready to brew at 5:15 am.  Mr. Amy will be getting back to work in the morning, ready to take on a new week.

On The Lips!

Sitting at my aunt's dining room table, enjoying the company of family and good food, we were suddenly jolted from our adult conversation by shrieks and squeals coming from above.  Five little second cousins, and one baby cousin who was trying to take a power nap, were getting their wild things on.  We heard a lot of giggling, a few thuds here and there, and several unidentified sounds.  The baby's mom came to his rescue and reported to the rest of us what she witnessed amongst the chaos.  There was one little girl cousin puckering up her lips, one little boy cousin awaiting his doom, while three little girl cousins jumped wildly on an air mattress chanting, "On the lips! On the lips!"  Before Sydney could plant a nice, big smooch on her poor cousin James' cheek, the grown ups intervened, capturing the whole thing on video.  (Lord, have mercy!) We are a close family, but...well...not that close.

All silliness aside, it was truly amazing to me how quickly my children bonded with my cousins' children.  James and Sydney were babies the last time we were together, and since that time, we've added a few family members.  Without skipping a beat, our children fell in love (not the romantic kind of love) instantaneously.  They played their hearts out every day in the ocean's waves and couldn't wait to see each other the next day.  For almost two weeks, they were inseperable.

Saying goodbye was emotional and bittersweet.  Buckets of tears were shed by all the little ones (and the big ones too...saying goodbye is hard no matter how old you are).  I hate parting ways with those I dearly love, but I am grateful that when we go our separate ways, there is a deep longing in all of us for the next time we will see each other again.  And I am grateful that we have inadvertantly passed that down to our children.

James was Sydney's first real crush.  They bonded - on their boogie boards, riding waves, and sharing his goggles - the stuff that real romance is made of.  This summer will hold a fond memory for both of them, and as they grow older, they will realize how blessed they are to be family.

When I start to feel the twinge of sadness that missing my family brings, I only have to remember, "On the lips!  On the lips!" and a smile is quick to cross my face.  As my cousin's wife remarked, "There are places in the south where marrying a second cousin is perfectly normal...but we are not from those parts."

Amen to that.

Sun-Induced

It has been raining for days weeks months out here in the Northwest. It's almost been more than this poor African girl can handle. Unmotivated to do anything but sit around the house looking like a "shlumpadinka", I was beginning to wonder if we would ever see the sun again.  And then, gloriously, vitamin D has been pouring down on us like warm, yellow waves of sunshine for the past two days.  I. am. in. heaven. Yesterday afternoon, our three wild things were working some of their wiggles out on our patio with sidewalk chalk.  Sydney had the bright idea that we should all go to the pool.  Perhaps it was the euphoria we were feeling from the endless stream of sun rays on our pasty white faces that compelled our tired mouths to say yes to embarking on such an ambitious Sunday afternoon family outing.  Never-the-less, thirty minutes later all five of us were suited up and headed to the pool.

I am relieved to report that our kids represented us well.  There were no displays of ugly behavior, leaving me very optimistic that we might actually be able to do this again sometime.

Until we got home.

They saved all the ugly up- held every whine, every fight, every high pitched expression of displeasure for the last few hours of our day. Jackson, who did not get his regular afternoon nap (not even a thirty minute power nap), was about as contentious as a caged beast.  He knew what he wanted, but he didn't know what he wanted.  He was delirious with fatigue.  Rather than lay down and give in to sleep, he amped up and ran through the house like a wild animal.  There were so many "Uh oh's" and bedroom times that I started to lose count.  The mantra repeatedly playing in my head was, "Just get him through dinner, and then you can put him to bed."

Bedtime finally came (early).  We had completed our regular bedtime rituals and I was heading to my room when I heard a little voice behind me.  It was Jackson.  He was following me saying, "Mommy, I need to tuck you in."  I could seriously have eaten him up right there, he was so sweet.  I looked up at Joel, whose face was as endeared and touched as mine.  Jackson walked me to my room and helped me get my bed turned down.  It was precious, until I accidentally knocked him in the head with my lethal elbow.  (Yep...I sure know how to kill a moment!)  He let out a yelp, but quickly forgave me (I think he was too tired to have a full blown melt down).

Lots of kisses, hugs, "I love you's"  and one "bless my heart" from Jackson later, he was successfully in bed.

Whew...day over.

And another one has just begun.

Friday's Free Advice - "The Best Summer Ever" Challenge

Friday's Free Advice: "The Best Summer Ever" Challenge.

Last month, on Mother's Day, our church was invited to participate in a "Random Acts of Kindness" challenge.  Square, orange touch cards with "Smile!  You've Just Been Tagged! - Do something nice for someone.  Leave this card behind and extend God's love again!" were handed out, and left in strategic areas of the church for attendees to pick up and take home.  We were encouraged to find subtle ways to reach out to our community by doing random acts of kindness for strangers, and leaving the card behind.

I love this for so many reasons, the first being that the color of the card is ORANGE!  I do love me some orange...bright, summery, happy and fun.  How can you resist?

I am also a big fan of random acts of kindness.  Not too long ago I posted a challenge of my own.  Doing something for someone just for the sake of doing it, to me, is one of the most powerful statements of unconditional love. 

Last night we had a family meeting around the dinner table.  At the top of the agenda (the only thing on the agenda) was brainstorming ways to make this the "best summer ever".  We're calling it "The Best Summer Ever" challenge.  The kids threw out all kinds of ideas of what they thought would make their summer super awesome and fun.  The wild and enthusiastic stream of creativity that flowed from three little minds was impressive and enlightening.  Everything from swimming, to beach days, to trips to the zoo, to playing and reading - they were on a roll. 

 

After the brainstorm dust settled, I affirmed their ideas.  I acknowledged that those things would most certainly make this the "best summer ever".  I went on to pose a question: if Mommy and Daddy are taking them to the pool, to the zoo, to the beach...etc., how are they, then, going to make this the best summer ever for us?

The first word out of, none other than, my three-year-old wild man's mouth was, "Kindness!"  Oh...I have taught them well!  My heart flipped!  The girls chimed in, "Be kind!  Be kind!" 

 

We chatted about what it means to be kind.  Kindness is: showing love, sharing toys, smiling, playing sweetly, listening to Mommy and Daddy.  Good answers.  We also had to cover what kindness is not:  screaming, scratching, pushing, whining, and leaving a mess on the floor when they are done playing with their toys. 

We talked about the fruit of the Spirit (and to be completely honest, by this point in the family meeting Sydney was about the only attentive mind at the table.  Jackson and Brooklyn had checked out somewhere around, "picking up your toys..."  We're working on it.)

Kindness is a big deal in our home, and I think I walked away from our meeting with a sense of accomplishment in one way: my kids know the value of kindness.  Jackson and Brooklyn have witnessed mommy buying coffee anonymously for another person and leaving the bright, happy, orange card behind.  They think it's awesome.  While I can't guarantee that we'll sail smoothly through our summer on the kindness wave, at least I know they are aware of the power of kindness.

So, as Joel and I are challenging our kids, and ourselves, to make this the best summer ever by being kind, I am going to do the same for you!   Be random!  Be kind!  Step out, reach out and be sunlight to your world!  Make this " The Best Summer Ever"!

Super-Hero Mom

I'll bet you didn't know that I'm a super hero.  Are you gasping from surprise?  This is new to me, too, as I was just informed by Jackson today- right after I killed a spider and flushed it down the toilet- that I am a super hero.  I can wield a mean wad of toilet paper, people.  There are no insects that can out wit this super-hero mom.

After relishing for a few minutes in my new found super-ness, I started thinking about how awesome motherhood is.  Too often, I focus on all the mistakes I make and completely overlook all the things I do that keep my home safe and sound.  So, I came up with a list of super hero qualities that I believe every mom shares.  This one's for all you supermoms out there who don your sweats, clean up spills, carpool, change diapers, and still have time to brush your teeth...all in a single bound:

Super-Hero Moms...

• Thwart bugs with shoes, tissue, and sometimes (when desperate times call for desperate measures) bare-handed.
• Can get spaghetti sauce stains out of pretty much anything.
• Have mastered the art of boo-boo kissing and tear-wiping.
• Make silly faces and perform Irish Riverdance for their children (leaving no trace of evidence behind).
• Turn Rascal Flatt's "Life is a Highway" into a bedtime lullaby for a very eager little boy.
• Make mac-n-cheese look like fine-dining.
• Turn vacuuming into a fun game of chase.
• Recite at least one Disney movie word-for-word.
• Nurse a baby while using the toilet, and talk on the phone all at the same time.
• Listen to the "why?" behind the "what?".
• Love unconditionally
• And toot her family's praises louder than a train horn.

If you said, "I do" to anything on this list then you, too, are a super hero.

It's snack time...and time for this supermom to get to work...until next time...

Mom, Mommy, Mama, Mother...

Sydney handed me a brown paper sack on Friday afternoon.  Inside was a collection of Mother's day projects she had been working on in her first grade classroom over the course of several weeks.  I unfolded a piece of composition paper where she had written something about me with a lovely illustration of the two of us.  This is what Sydney wrote:  

"The most important thing about my Mommy is that she loves to read her Bible.  She likes puppies!  BUT the most important thing about my Mommy is that she loves to read her Bible."

Just so we're clear, I love to read my Bible...according to Sydney.  I smiled when I read her composition, and my heart was warmed to think that, from my little six-year-old daughter's perspective, this would be the most important thing about me.

I don't know about you, but I absolutely love Mother's Day.  I love it more than my birthday.  I love waking up Mother's Day morning knowing that because of three precious little souls, who call me by a number of different names - "Mom"..."Mommy"..."Mama"..."Mother" (often repeated numerous times with varying voice tones and inflections) - this day is for me.

I love Mother's Day because I am reminded of my own Mom.

My mom could turn a two bedroom, concrete floored, 800 square foot condo in Kenya into home sweet home.  Her fingerprints are all over my own home today - there's a touch of my mom everywhere I go.

My mom could turn a seemingly disastrous eyes-closed-for-my-sixth-grade-school-pictures into something to smile about and be proud of.

She has been my biggest cheerleader, confidant, mentor and friend.

And the most important thing about my mom is that she loves to read her Bible.

Down the road, when Sydney picks up her little girl from school, maybe - just maybe - she'll open up a little gift sack with a handwritten note about her and read, "The most important thing about my mom is that she loves to read her Bible..."

Being a mom is not just about changing diapers, shuttling kids from school to sports to church and home again.  It's not simply making sure they eat their veggies and do their homework.  Being a mom is modeling the kind of person we want our children to become.  Leading by example in everything...everything...we do.

I love being a mom.  I know I mess up a lot, but I am encouraged that the most important people in my life are discovering the most important thing in life through my life.

This may be a day too late, but I just want to wish my mom, and all my dear and amazing mom friends, a very Happy Mother's Day!

Where Does Jesus Live?

Exasperated, I sat down, put my head in my hands and whispered a quick prayer for strength and patience.  The following is the conversation that ensued:

Me:  “Oh, Jesus.  I need you.”

Jackson:  “Mommy, Jesus not here.”

Me:  “Yes, He is.”

Jackson:  “No, Mommy.  He’s not here.”

Me:  “Then, where is He?”

Jackson:  “He’s at His home.”

Me:  “Where’s Jesus’ home?”  (Here’s hoping he says something like, “My heart!")

Jackson:  “At His town.”

Me:  “What’s the name of the town?”

Jackson:  “I don’t know, Mama…I don’t know.  Where’s His town?”

Me:  “Does Jesus live in your heart?”

Jackson:  Shakes head, “no”.

Brooklyn eagerly jumps into the conversation at this point:  “Heaven!  His town is Heaven!”

And there you have it.  Where Jesus lives, according to Brooklyn and Jackson.

What's That Smell?

From the depths of sweet slumber I felt a tap, tap, tap on my shoulder.  Turning over and blinking my eyes, Sydney's face came into focus.  She had a bad dream.  I looked at the clock.  Not quite 4am.  

Rolling out of bed (my warm and cozy little nest), I took Sydney's hand and, in a state of drowsiness, quietly escorted her back to her room.  Covers were arranged, water was administered and a short (but to the point) prayer was prayed.  I leaned over to give her a kiss. 

Sydney paused.

"Mommy, what's that smell?

"What smell?"

Silence.

"What smell?"

Again, silence and Sydney's eyes peering into mine.

"Oh.  Is it my breath?"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay Mommy.  I love you."

"I love you too." 

(But that's what you get, kiddo, for waking Mommy up in the wee hours of the morning from a deep, coma-like sleep.)

And we all returned to dreamland...happily ever after.

Show & Tell

Our deep early morning conversation began like this:  

Sydney: “Mom, do you remember when I was a little girl?  You know…when I was five years old?”

Me: “Why, yes I do.” because that was all of six months ago.  (I know I’ve been forgetting a lot of things since I became a mom of three, but a five-year-old Sydney?  This I do remember.)

Sydney: “I was a cute kid.”

Working hard to stifle a laugh, I concurred: “Yep.  You were a very cute kid.  And you still are.”

Sydney has show-and-tell today at school.  She is supposed to bring something that she is thankful for.  Sydney decided that she wanted me to be her show-and-tell.  Today, I am the object of her affection.  My highly challenging, deeply intuitive and strong - both in will and passion - daughter wants to show me off to her entire first grade class as the thing she is most thankful for. 

I’ve never been so honored to be an object.

I’m going to take this day, put it in my heart and never let it go. 

A Mighty Tree

This morning as I was driving Sydney to school, a huge gust of wind came rushing through; blowing leaves and dirt and bending tender tree branches low to the ground.  Sydney was impressed.  Even the large and sinewy evergreens waved to us as we listened to the rustle and howl.  Finally, once the flurry subsided, Sydney asked me, "Mom, will the wind knock those trees over?  Will they start flying at our car?"  "No,"  was my reply.  I went on to explain that those trees have deep roots that cling to the earth below.  When the wind blows, the roots hang on tight to the soil so that the trees will not fall over.  

Of course, this thought continued to ruminate in my mind long after I had dropped Sydney off at school. 

There are some pretty strong and mighty storms that are blowing through life these days.  Without deep roots and fertile soil to cling to I fear I could be swept away like chaff in the wind.  Sydney's simple question drew me to a scripture that I memorized years ago - Jeremiah 17:7-8:

But blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in Him.

He will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream.

It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green.

It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit.  (NIV)

No fear.  No worries.  Roots planted deep, clinging to the rich soil of God's faithfulness.  I pray to be one who trusts in the midst of the heat and through the course of the drought.  Whether life comes at me as a gentle breeze or a gale force wind, may my confidence be rooted in the One who holds me tightly in His grasp and steady through the storm.

Looking For The Funny

It seems over the past several weeks and months I haven’t had very many humorous experiences to write about.  There is so much tragedy, almost too much, happening all around me; friends and family members all touched to some degree with suffering, pain, loss and grief.  To tell about my most recent brush with the wild and unruly little people in my home might come across as shallow and empty, in light of the real hurt that others are walking through.  I find myself overwhelmed, grappling with such serious and heady issues.  With a heavy heart I’ve asked God, “Where’s the funny?”  

I’ve been looking for it.  Looking for the funny.  Even this morning, when all three of my children melted down simultaneously, and in perfect harmony I might add, while eating breakfast.  I paused for a moment and briefly analyzed the situation, “How can I spin this moment of shear chaos into something funny?”  Unfortunately, by 7:30am I was already pulling out my reserve nerves because my kids had successfully trampled on the last of my daily supply.  All this after waking up early to pray for these three monkeys!  There was nothing funny about that.

As I was trying to finish getting ready, my son came into the bathroom to help me.  In his effort, and to his credit he really was trying to help, he slammed my foot and finger (don’t ask - I don’t know I managed to have both my foot and finger in the same place at the same time) in the bathroom cabinet.  It hurt.  It was not funny.  I was not funny.  After I let out a glorious shout of “OUCH!” I looked at Jackson, his eyes wide open, and stifled what was about to leak out of my mouth next and started to pray…loudly.  Jackson was concerned and laid his hand on my foot and prayed too.  Then he gave it a kiss.  That’s not funny either, but it sure was sweet.

Once recovered, I sat down at my desk to collect my things for Bible study.  I had been praying this morning and preparing my heart for this time of fellowship with other women.  We are all facing various challenges in our lives, and we have been rallying around each other in prayer and encouragement.  These women have been high on my prayer list.  I was deep in thought when I turned to look at Jackson, who was once again following me.  He was picking his nose.  Then he was eating “it”.  I said, “Eew, Jackson.  Don’t eat your boogers.  Icky gross!”  He looked straight at me and said with defiance, “No!  I like my boogers.”  Then he stuck his germ-encrusted index finger up his nose, pulled something out and proceeded to plunge it into his mouth.  Completely satisfied with himself he let out a triumphant, “Mmmmmm,” and walked away.  And there it was.  The funny.  I found the funny.  Thanks to my two-year-old son and his appetite for boogers, funny found its way into my day.

Amidst the pain and sorrow that surrounds each and every one of us, finding the funny can be so hard - almost impossible.  I know that there are situations that are completely out of my control; things I need God to intervene on and I don’t know how or when He will.  There are other issues that seem inexplicable to me – pointless in the present – and again I just have to trust in the sovereignty of God.  In the meantime, I need a good laugh.  I need to feel the sides of my mouth turn upward while my heart flip-flops in glee.  I need the funny.  Sometimes the funny can be found everywhere and in everything.  Other times we have to look for it.  We have to set out to find it, and then relish in every moment of laughter it gives to us.  If you need to find the funny, then I truly hope you find it.  If you’ve found it, then I hope it lingers long enough to satisfy your longing.  For me, I’m still thinking about Jackson and his boogers, and I can’t help but smile.

Proverbs 15:13 (NIV)

A happy heart makes the face cheerful, but heartache crushes the spirit.

Totally Awesome

Yesterday afternoon driving home from ballet class, Sydney paused mid-thought and asked me this:  "Mommy, is God going to take ribs out of me and make a man?"  

Brooklyn came downstairs to help make lunch the other day.  She got the bread out and assembled three sandwiches for each kiddo.  As we were putting the leftover turkey, cheese and fruit back into the fridge she said this to me:  "Mommy, you are my best friend."

A few days ago Jackson stopped to inspect the wedding picture hanging in my bedroom.  He looked up at me, then back at the picture, then back at me.  Without a second thought he said, "Mommy, you a princess!"

This morning, while working on a few household chores, I could hear Sydney calling my name from the other room:  "Mommy, Mommy, Moooooommy!  Come look at me!"  Realizing she wasn't going to stop until I came to observe her, I dropped what I was doing and went to the playroom.  She was attempting to do a back handspring, while simultaneously watching t.v. (rather impressive - not to mention dangerous - if you ask me).  She looked up and asked,  "Is this awesome?"

"Totally awesome!" was my reply.  In fact, I took a moment, looked each one of them in the eye and added, "You are ALL totally awesome!"

Whether they are contemplating creation or being Mommy's special helper, calling me a princess or wowing me with acrobatic skills, they are amazing to me.  And absolutely, totally awesome!

Wonderwear, Diamonds and Bedtime Prayers

Bedtime is quite possibly my favorite time of day.  It’s not because I know that once the kids are tucked in and squared away for the night I get a couple of hours to myself.  I love bedtime because it is during those last few minutes before my little ones drift off to sleep that we share our most special and intimate moments together.  After stories have been read, the girls crawl up into their beds and wait for Mommy to come to them individually and pray.  Because this is such a sweet time for us, I utilize it as a way to teach them memory verses from the Bible, and shower them with words of affirmation.   

Listening to the girls recite back to me a verse we have been working on is truly a precious thing, even if some of the words get a little mispronounced.  For instance, the other night I was sitting on Brooklyn’s bed and it was time for her to do her memory verse.  Here is Psalm 139:14 according to Brooklyn:

“I praise you…dee-cause…I am fearfuuuulleee…and…wonderwear…oops…(a-hem)…wonder-fly made.”

Another night I was talking to Sydney about her day.  She had been such a helper, and I told her what a blessing her assistance was to me.  She smiled big and then went on to tell me how she was able to make good choices.  She described it this way:

Sydney:  “Mommy, God put a diamond inside of me.”

Me:  “Oh really?”

Sydney:  “Yes!  A big, beautiful diamond!  It was super shiny and shined a light for me to see how I could be a good girl today!”

Moments like these I want to hold on to forever.  While there will always be challenges in parenting, as I work hard to guide and direct them along the right path, I certainly don’t want to overlook the successes we’ve had.  I do a pretty good job of beating myself up over all the mistakes I make throughout the day, however when I hear my girls talk about God, and how much they love Him, I know I must be doing something right.  I’m an imperfect parent, but I serve a perfect God who also guides and directs my steps throughout the day.  As He is working in me, I am working on the lives of my little ones – one bedtime prayer at a time.

When Syd Grows Up

Sydney: “Mommy, I want to be YOU when I grow up.”  (I know, I know...I too was overwhelmed with the "I just want to pick you up and kiss you all over" feeling when she made this momentous announcement.) She continued her statement with a list of weekly activities: “I’m going to be a girl pastor on Sunday, Tuesday and Wednesday. I’m going to be a gardener on Monday, Thursday and Saturday. Then on Friday’s I’ll sweep!” (For the record, I am neither a “girl pastor” nor a “gardener”. The sweeping part? That, I actually do.)

I’ve given her the job of sweeping our floors – I’m just trying to give her lots of practice for her career.

I'm A Liar!

I had just finished giving Sydney - age five - her goodnight kiss. I started to leave the bedroom when all of a sudden Sydney cried out with great emotion, "I'm a LIAR!!!" This stopped me in my tracks. I turned around to look at her and asked, "What honey?" She was sobbing and said it again, "I'm a liar...I lied at school." "Hmmm," I'm thinking to myself, “This could be interesting.” So I went over to her bed, and I asked her to tell me what happened and if she could explain to me what she meant. Through tears she said, "Mommy, I'm a liar. I told the kids at school that I have a gold fish at home (sniff, sniff...) and I don't have any gold fish...I'm a liar!" It was so hard not to laugh. Her confession was sweet and innocent. I asked her if she wanted to pray and ask God to forgive her. She said yes, and we prayed and asked for God's forgiveness. Then I told her that everything was okay. God had forgiven her, and she didn't need to worry about it anymore.

The following morning I called my mom, who lives in South Africa, because this was a story that definitely merited a phone call. Mom and I laughed and laughed as I relayed the details of Sydney’s confession to me the night before. When we finally regained our composure and could talk again, my mom reminded me of a similar story that starred me at age five. I had told all the boys and girls in my class that my Mommy sold balloons at the circus. (In the mind of a kindergartener, selling balloons at the circus must have seemed like a pretty awesome job to have.)

All in all, I guess my conclusion is this: what goes around comes around.