_______Throwing Acorns in Heaven

Yesterday in the car, the kids overheard Adel and I talking about a soldier we knew of who had died in battle.  A lively discussion on heaven followed:

Abby: Who died, Momma?
Mommy: A soldier died, Abby.
Isaac: Is he in heaven now?
Mommy: If he believed in Jesus he gets to go to heaven.  We hope so.
Isaac: When I go to heaven, I'm going to sleep on the floor.
Abby: Who died, Momma?
Mommy: A soldier died fighting a battle, Abby.
Isaac: Do you have to go to the bathroom in heaven?
Mommy: I have no idea, Isaac.  That's a good question.
Abby: Who died, Momma?
Mommy: Don't worry, Abby.  A soldier died.  You didn't know him.  It's okay.
Isaac: When I'm in heaven, can I throw acorns at Jesus?
Mommy: I would think of all the people in the world, Jesus would be the last person you would want to throw acorns at!
Isaac: I'll throw acorns when I get to heaven, but not at people.
Mommy: That's a good idea.


And just because I can't have a mom-post without pictures of the kids, here's a picture of the kids driving the trains they created this morning.

They're shouting "All Aboard!"

_______Day Out with Thomas

The morning after we went camping, we met my mom and dad in Rusk for the Day Out with Thomas the Train.

Daddy and Isaac

Mimi and Isaac

Lindsay, Lily, Amelia, and Andy

Boppa and Aubrey

Abby and her reflection

Mommy and Abby

On the tracks

At the bubble station

Abby and Emily

The kids at the lake

Abby (center) and Aubrey (far left) helping lead music time

On the hay ride

Thanks Mimi and Boppa for a fantastic day!

_______First Time Camping with Kids

This weekend we went camping at Davy Crockett National Forest in Lufkin, Texas.  It was our first camping trip since having kids.  When we arrived at the campsite, Lindsay and Andy already had the tent set up (good deal!).  Here's some snippets of the experience:


Our first time camping with the kids

arriving just before sunset
spending the last of the daylight collecting firewood
kids playing with dirt, sticks, and pinecones
(no need for toys here)
rolling the big log from three sites down to make a seat

trying to start a fire with soggy wood
giving up and cooking hot dogs on the gas burner
Daddy making a run for lighter fluid and charcoal

dousing the wood with lighter fluid until it finally catches
melting s'mores over the flames
sticky, chocolaty fingers and grins

taking the boy to the bathroom in the dark
pretending I don't think it's creepy
spiders and snakes and bugs, oh my!
(not to mention the dreaded boogeyman)
but don't forget to look up at the perfect night sky

"it's almost bedtime, little ones"
"nah, you don't have to brush your teeth tonight"
tucking those kids into their sleeping bags
"get back in bed and stay there!"

grownups stay up talking just a little longer
"can you believe we're the grownups now?"
until the fire burns out

sleeping on and off throughout the night
more off than on, it seems
the egret's call echoes across the lake
someone should really get that dog to stop barking
can't believe those campers are just arriving
what was that noise?
and "it's okay, mommy's here"

restart the soggy fire at sun-up
Uncle Andy's hot chocolate
the lake covered in mist

one more hour to play with dirt, sticks, and pinecones
taking the kids on a nature walk while the guys pack up
coming home smelling like campfire and feeling like grit
talking about how we can't wait to do it all again

_______A Little Good in the World

Here's an anecdote for those of us who need to feel a little bit of good about the state of the World today:

Isaac's preschool class is learning about jobs this month.  The teachers asked each child what they want to be when they grow up and what they will use to help them do their job.  They posted the results on the bulletin board today.  The answers were diverse but followed the pattern: "When I grow up, I want to be a teacher.  I will use a pointer to point at words."  "When I grow up, I want to be a nurse.  I will use a shot to give people medicine." And so on.

Isaac's answer stood out to me firstly because he's my son and I adore him (no doubt I'm extremely biased here), but also because he was the only one who didn't pick an actual career.  His answer was: "When I grow up, I want to be a daddy.  I will use my hands to protect my family."

How precious is that?  There is good left in the world, people!  God has loaned it to me (and you too, mommas!) to do my best with for a little while.

_______The Trip that Wasn't

Our bags were packed, the car was loaded with necessities for a long weekend trip with the kids.  Emails had been exchanged, phone calls made. In the morning we were leaving for Lubbock. Lindsay and I and our five kids would be packed into Dad's truck.  Bethany and Carly and their four kids would be carpooling too, all converging on Matt and Robin's house by evening the next day.  At least that was the plan.

Then we learned that our hostess, Robin, had landed a fever. With flu scares abounding and Dad undergoing chemo, we decided to play it safe and postpone the trip.  In the meantime, we needed a backup plan, and fast, for the kids who were all revved up for the big weekend ahead.  So, we headed to Old MacDonald's Farm.

There we rode the train around the grounds (this is the kids watching the train pull in)...

Pretended to be chickens...

Fed and pet deer...

Played on the giant hill of sand (I want one in my backyard)...

Took turns on the rope swing...

And rode the ponies...

The kids even got to pick out a pumpkin to take home:

That night, we went to Lupe Tortillas where the kids played in more sand.  The next day we took a trip to Galveston and let the kids play in, you guessed it, even more sand.


Spending two days driving around with five kids in the car for just an hour or so at a time, really gave us something to think about for the real Lubbock trip.  It was noisy on all kinds of levels.  Abby cried inconsolably for a good ten minutes because Aubrey kept shushing her when she was trying to sing "rock-a-bye baby."  As I was buckling the kids in one of the dozens of times, this was one of my favorite exchanges I overheard:

Isaac: Lily, let's pretend I'm a baby and you're the momma.
Lily: Okay.
Isaac (in a baby voice): Momma...
Lily: What?
Isaac: Momma...
Lily: What?
Isaac: Momma...
Lily: What?

Yeah, that's a pretty accurate exchange.

We are especially thankful to Aunt Teri and Uncle Bill and my mom and dad who helped us enjoy this "make up" mini vacation without our usual cutting corners and pinching pennies.

And Robin, we're still coming!  New plans for "Lubbock or Bust" are in the works...

Monster Face

I don't usually do much as far as Halloween decorations go.  But this year Isaac is very much aware of what Halloween is all about and has been chomping at the bit to make our house "scary."  So, we copied something we saw in a magazine using two plastic table cloths from the dollar store and some construction and sticker paper we had already.  If you come visit between now and Halloween, don't be alarmed, it's a friendly man-eating monster.  (Also, it's highly possible it will not last that long.)

And, to be fair to Abby, here's a picture of her today too, looking every bit the "material girl" with her friend Madelyn.

Race for the Cure

Last Saturday my family joined Race for the Cure in downtown Houston in honor of my Dad who is currently undergoing treatment for breast cancer.  I was especially proud of Isaac for walking the whole 5K.  He dragged a little in the middle but with encouragement from the "fans" on the sidelines, he made it to the finish line. After the finish line, I carried him on my shoulders:

"The American Cancer Society estimates that about 2,000 new cases of invasive breast cancer are diagnosed in men each year and approximately 450 men die from breast cancer annually. Male breast cancers account for approximately 1% of all breast cancer cases."  http://www.imaginis.com/breasthealth/bcmen.asp


Dad has been undergoing Chemo since June.  The original plan was to shrink the tumor with the Chemo and then remove it.  However, in mid-September an ultrasound determined that the tumor was not shrinking.  Dad's doctors decided to do a modified radical mastectomy (or as we joke about in my family, in his case it was a man-stectomy).


I had the honor of shaving Dad's head just before his hair started falling out.

Dad did great with the surgery and recovery and just had his stitches removed.  This week he will meet with his doctors to determine the schedule for his continuing chemo treatment and the addition of radiation treatment.

                                                                                              

Some of the guys in our family also shaved their heads in July in Dad's honor. In this picture, they're all sporting mohawks because we just couldn't resist the fashion statement.

I cannot express enough how amazing my dad has been through all of this.  He has just had a chunk taken out of his chest and he presses on with his everyday life with as much restlessness, cheerfulness, and determination as ever.  The morning after he came home from the surgery, he was up early making pancakes for his grandkids.  If you know him at all, you are not surprised. He's a real man.

Here's what I wrote about him in EveryMom:

"No one would ever accuse my father of being anything other than a man.  He stands for principles higher than himself and he does not back down in the face of opposition.  His faith in God, leading by example, along with his and my mother’s commitment to always be involved in our youth group experiences, largely influenced both my sister’s and my close walks of faith that we enjoy today.  In high school, he stopped a bully from beating up a smaller kid, promising to meet the big guy later to finish it off.  When they met up again, my dad refused to fight, although he was pushed around by the bully before the guy lost interest and left him alone.  And yet, this same man is willing to be dressed up as a fairy queen by his grandchildren, earrings, necklaces, tiara, wings, and magic wand included.  Now that is a man!"  

(And yes, that is also Isaac wearing full fairy queen get-up.  He's training in his grandfather's footsteps.  It may seem goofy, but honesty, there could be no better role model!)

_______If I Were in Charge of the World

I have previously claimed that I have always been a writer (among other things).  Here is a bit of proof.  This is a poem I wrote in fifth grade, modeled after Judith Viorst's poem by the same title.  Granted, you probably wrote a similar poem considering that nearly every fifth grade student in America has written their own version of this poem.  However, does every fifth grade student get a shiny blue Sticker of Approval from the teacher?  I think not.



If I Were in Charge of the World

If I were in charge of the world
I'd cancel mosquitoes
The sun
Gun fights and also
Crazy people

If I were in charge of the world
There'd be longer weekends
Shorter school years and
Chocolate sundaes fifty thousand feet higher

If I were in charge of the world
You wouldn't have bad days
You wouldn't have taxes
You wouldn't have spinach
Or "Go do your homework"
You wouldn't even have homework

If I were in charge of the world
In fifth grade you'd have your ABC's and 1,2,3's
All boys would be nice
And a person who sometimes forgot to work
And sometimes forgot to clean
Would still be allowed to be in charge of the world



Looking back, it is not clear to me why I wanted to do away with the sun.  Seems like that would be a bit reckless.  Also, why in the world was I concerned with taxes?  As a fifth grader, I never had to file my own taxes.  And I still haven't to this day.  I'm still all for canceling the mosquitoes though.

Nasty Things.

_______Nonsense and Sensibility

The first grown up novel I read as a teenager was Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austin.


 I loved it because the personalities of the two Dashwood sisters reminded me so much of my sister and I.  Lindsay was (and still is) all sense, rationality, logic.  She takes action because she has thought it through and it makes sense to her.  At the time when I read this book (and still to a large degree today), I was all sensibility, rashness, whimsical emotion.  I took action because I couldn't possibly do anything other than respond to the demands of my sensibilities.  Thankfully I have matured a bit these days and have learned that a little sense goes a long way!  (Although when I do something I still generally throw myself into it wholeheartedly, often still without clear foresight.)

Anyway, as a high school senior, I penned this tidbit poem to commemorate my own personality quirk of sensibility:


Nonsense and Sensibility


I am practically impractical
when it comes to being sensible.
And when emotions capture me,
I'm sensibility, times three.

_______My Books

I wrote my first book during the year after Isaac was born.  Honestly, it's not a great work of literature.  Not even close.  However, it constituted a huge success for me.  I have always been a writer (among other things) and I have long dreamed of writing a book.  I am very thankful that I live in an era of technology when I can publish my own writing without cost to myself.  It was such a thrill to see hard evidence that I had completed my first book.

After self-publishing my first book on motherhood in 2007, I had no intention of ever writing about motherhood again.  But after having Abby (also in 2007), I found that life with a toddler and a newborn made it impossible to write about anything other than, well, life with a toddler and a newborn.  I had some serious venting to do!  So I spent any spare moment during Abby’s first year writing my second book:

This second book is also, admittedly, not a great work of literature.  Neither is it unique.  There are so many books about motherhood out there.  But, nonetheless, I felt the writing of it was extremely healthy and helpful for me as I was faced with the daily challenges of raising two such young children.  I feel that this book has a little bit more merit than the first and writing it has taken me one step closer to finding my writing voice.

I am exceedingly grateful to everyone who has helped me edit and revise my work, finalize and publish my work, and just plain encouraged me to pursue this dream of mine.  You all rock!

_______Tumbling Trashcans

I found this poem in my college writing portfolio.  It was a form poem that we were assigned where we had to copy the format line for line, but with our own content.  I wish I still had the assignment sheet so I could see what the form was.  For example, I can pretty much guarantee that line one was supposed to include a metaphor.  Perhaps line two was meant to include alliteration. 


For sure, I remember that halfway through the poem (at the second stanza) we were supposed to move the action to a new setting.  Thus it makes an abrupt switch from the highway where I nearly crashed into a tumbling trashcan to the dorms where I was living.


Also, line 21 is in Greek and I remember clearly that the instructions were to include a foreign language in that line.  It is the Greek word Ichthys which means fish and refers to the Christian symbol for Jesus Christ.  The word Ichthys was used by early Christians as an acrostic, a word formed from the first letters of several words. It compiles to "Jesus Christ, God's son, savior," in ancient Greek.  (Wikipedia)


Finally, in the last line we were instructed to bring the poem back to the beginning.  Considering that it was a form poem, I was really pleased with how it turned out.







Tumbling Trashcans


Driving last night was a tumbling trashcan.
It tried to tumble me.
The trashcan wobbling in the back of the truck.
Cold sweat of the driver behind it.
The thud of the trashcan on the highway.
Burnt aroma of breaking tires.
Tasting the nearness of death.
It tasted like the numbness of silence.
I wished I hadn't left Lindsay to go back home to Remington Road.
I was headed back to the dorm on Remington Road.


In the dorm, the rooms beat different beats.
The walls echo with giggles and squeals.
They can't be silent because they're students.
"Are you going out tonight?"
They are as excited as a hangover.
Then they throb through the air to the boys at the frat house.


On Friday nights Meg goes out with her friends.
But they won't end up with a headache.
As giant children they laugh their way through the night.
They have all that they need.
ΙΧΘΥΣ, Jesus Christ, Son of God, Savior.


Meanwhile, the beer bottles kiss their goodnights.
And the girls totter home like tumbling trashcans.

_______Wrestling with God

I wrote this poem in college soon after I decided to follow Christ instead of myself.  In the July 2008 blog entry, I described it as "a very conscious struggle between me and God."  Can't tell you how thankful I am that God didn't give up on me even when I told him I didn't want Him!



Wrestling with God

That night I lay in the dark and I wrestled with God.
We disagreed on where my life should go.
I wanted everything:
the world, myself.
He just wanted me.
I told Him I didn't want Him.
I was too important for that.
(Those were the times He let me think that I was winning.)
He told me He just wanted me.
And He never gave up.
In the end, His will was stronger than mine.
Because He won, I felt that I had lost.
I can see now that I won also.