I am a product of the self-esteem movement. At least I'm pretty sure that I must be, since I seem to feel terrible about myself unless I can find at least one thing at which I am proficient.
With complete assurance, I will tell you that parenting is not on my Feel Good About Yourself Because You're a Rock Star list.
If I could name a few things that might go on that list they would be as follows:
1. Changing diapers. Yes. I can change a diaper. Any diaper, any mess. I've got it.
2. Cheesecake. I take no credit for this really, because it's my family's recipe and my dad taught me how to make it. Now having a lot of practice, I can make a pretty good cheesecake. Unless it's lumpy...
3. Sewing (relatively) straight lines. Of course, I would prefer that you didn't look too closely at those straight lines because sometimes they're not so pretty. My machine does a funny thing sometimes with the bobbin thread...and well, I'm not perfect. But I can make one heck of a wash cloth!
See. Parenting is not on this list. Why? Because parenting is complex and never-ending and requires a whole lot of selflessness (not to mention a heap of wisdom) that I just don't possess in and of myself.
The past couple of weeks have been particularly challenging. One child is sneaking into snack foods. This morning it was cocoa powder. I guess since the "good" stuff is all stashed in out of sight and out of reach places, powdered chocolate seemed like a good alternative? I think the immediate consequence was the shock of how aweful that stuff tastes without a ton of sugar.
Then there are the tantrums. Yes. Tantrums. Hundreds of them from every age of child we have in our household. Except the 1-year-old. Keep that in mind because it holds the key to something I will say in a moment.
And can I just say that no one ever told Claude and I that we would need to talk with our 6-year-old daughter about dating? Recently she got herself in a terrible pickle when some kid at Awanas (our church's evening program for kids) asked if she "liked" him and if she would be his "friend".
She said, "Yes," and "I don't know". Apparently the kid swooned. Literally. We even had a demonstration.
Now, in the above case, this is when I am thankful for a firstborn who, even with relentless training and correcting, must interrupt any and every conversation within earshot, knows how to be rude, can be very hard to get along with, and loves to police any situation he can. (Unless he's trying to police the cocoa powder, in which case he'd rather just have a taste.) And I am thankful that the aforementioned firstborn is in the same Awanas class as his sister who is being pursued by blonde-haired, blue-eyed, Mr. Popular.
Sorry...that was a bit of an aside.
As these situations present themselves, it has become increasingly apparent to me that when it comes to parenting I have absolutely no clue what I am doing.
And this is where I will make two points.
The first point is that sewing straight lines is a beautiful, therapeutic endeavor. While parenting is a twisted, back-tracking, mangled mess as you wind your way through a dense jungle of attitudes, behaviors, and situations, sewing is the smooth, wide, and straight road that leads to sanity. And it makes me feel good about myself. See the self-esteem thing?
Case in point. I sewed these wash cloths this week, along with three children's aprons, three pioneer skirts, and a pair of maternity jeans. Thank you, Audrey, for the free fabric!
The second point that I would like to make is this: Everybody needs a 1-year-old. Having a baby around the house who is super cute and cuddly, sleeps through the night (not really), and doesn't throw tantrums is amazing. You'll feel great about your parenting automatically just by looking at the little tike and having warm fuzzy feelings each and every time. See, there's the self-esteem thing again!
Case in point. Rachel. Just give her a bottle and/or a book and she's good to go.
And here's the third point. I know, I know...I said I only had two, but I can't just leave it at that.
There is no job, no activity, no task that has ever humbled me so much as parenting. It really does send me to my knees. Or rather, the bathroom...because that's where I can lock the door. *smiles* And it causes me to seek God in His infinite wisdom, strength, and understanding.
So, in the midst of sneaking cocoa, throwing tantrums, and six-year-old dating troubles, you will find me asking for wisdom from the only One who has it to offer.
And you'll probably find me sitting at the sewing machine, taking deep breaths while I convince myself that I can, indeed, get up and do this all over again for at least the next 20 years worth of tomorrows.
By God's amazing grace, I managed to miss out on all four rounds of the Great Stomach Virus of 2014-2015. Managing morning sickness was pretty much enough for that stage of things, and I was so glad to not add other unpleasantries to the mix.
Been there. Done that at least twice. Not fun. In fact, it's kind of like a cruel joke.
"So, you have morning sickness, do you?" asks the stomach virus. "Well then, take this!" And before you know it you are out for the count.
Aside from the Great Sickness, the kids have been sick with colds all winter. Jeremiah and Rachel seem to get one every other week. I'm pretty sure this comes from their time in the nursery with other wee ones who are getting colds on the weeks our kids are healthy. They meet up on Sunday morning, swap some germs, and say "See 'ya later" until the next week, when they trade colds.
The Lord has spared me from these colds. And I have been very grateful.
This past week, however, I finally succumbed to the milieu of germs that is our household. Even while pumping my body with vitamin C, I still couldn't manage to keep this one at bay. It hit like a ton of bricks on Friday night and I have been wiped out ever since. Ugh.
Claude put it best when he said, "This one has been carefully selected by the kids."
Yes, it has. After all the rounds of colds, the Little Crew has filtered out the weaker viruses and only the hardiest has survived. Now this virus is kicking me to the curb...and boy is it hard to get back up!
Rachel and Jeremiah are sharing in the joys of the current illness. They seem to take it better than I. I've grown to be quite wussy in my old age.
Anyway...this is about as good as I have felt this week.
Obviuosly Rachel is not her usual self, either. Or is she?
She really has been frowning since just moments after birth. She has now had 15 months to perfect the frown, though. She's getting better all the time!
In all seriousness, this is a terrible, no good, very bad cold. Poor Rachel and Jeremiah. I feel your pain. But have no fear. We shall prevail over this villainous virus. Until the next time you go to nursery...
Here is a simple craft and Bible lesson to do with your toddler or preschooler around Easter time. The end result is a cute and colorful cross.
Scripture
Matthew 27:32-28:10--Jesus' death on the cross and resurrection from the tomb.
Lesson Objective
Jesus died on the cross for my sin.
Memory Verse
"All who believe in Jesus have their sins forgiven through his name." (Acts 10:43, simplified from the NIrV)
-or-
A different verse of your choosing.
Here are is a list of suggestions for verses about salvation. Each link is to a song that you can use to learn this verse with your child:
Romans 10:9
John 3:16
John 14:6
Romans 6:23
Memory Verse Song
To the tune of "The More We Get Together"
"All who believe in Jesus
In Jesus
In Jesus
Will have their sins forgiven
Through his name."
Easter Cross Craft
Materials
-White card stock or construction paper
-Black construction paper
-Scraps of construction paper or tissue paper
-Scissors
-Glue
Directions
1. Cover the white paper with glue (I prefer washable glue sticks to reduce mess).
2. Stick paper scraps all over paper so that no white is showing. Cut the scraps yourself from any type of colored paper, or have your toddler tear the pieces. For a preschooler, allow them to cut the scraps of paper. It's great scissor practice!
3. Fold the black paper in half and cut out half of a cross. When you unfold the paper it should have a full cross cut out from the center.
4. Glue the black cross cut out on top of the scrap-covered cardstock.
Over Christmas we took a 5,000 mile round-trip adventure to see my parents in Montana. It was fun. It was exciting. It was adventurous. And it was abounding in throw up.
Part of what made this such a fun trip was that we managed to surprise my mom with our little journey. My dad played the role of accomplice, which meant no surprises for him.
Or did it?
What no one else knew was that aside from making a last minute 36 hour trip, we still had one more suprise up our sleeve.
The kids insisted that they could keep this secret until Christmas morning, when my parents would open a homemade movie as a gift. And they did an awesome job!
Maybe they were just having too much fun sledding and vomiting to think about it, but they were put to the test on Christmas Eve when my dad sat down with Joshua and Hannah to look through the photos on our camera. The above photo, which we used on the cover of the DVD gift, was on the memory card. He asked them what they were looking at and why they took the picture. They sat quietly, said, "The box was empty," and left it at that.
I was amazed! Apparently they are good at keeping surprises a secret until just the right time.
Anyway...on Christmas morning, amidst the near chaos of our entire family opening gifts, we were able to share the Chew Crew's very first motion picture making endeavor. We had fun with this project, and the kids are already talking about making more in the future, so stay tuned!
Until then, we'd like to share with you, "The Mystery of the Missing Egg Rolls". To view our short (really, it's less than 2 minutes) film, click through to Vimeo and use 2005ChewCrew.
Mystery of the Missing Egg Rolls from
Chew Crew on
Vimeo.
Right now I'm thinking not.
But maybe?
I guess we will see how it looks tomorrow when the swelling is (hopefully) down.
This little girl nearly gave me a heart attack a few moments ago.
Cautious is not really a word that I would use to describe Rachel. The likes to keep up with her older siblings, doesn't mind falling flat on her face, and when she does she gets back up and keeps on trucking.
She has been trying to access the stairs for quite some time. We usually have a safety gate at the top and the bottom of the staircase. Both are meant to be locked whenever Rachel is awake. When relying mostly on a 4-year-old, a 6-year-old, and a 7-year-old to close the gates it goes without saying that they are not always locked.
Anyhoo...I saw Rachel climb about five steps last month. Then, in a horrifying split-second, I watched as she fell down the same steps. I was too far away to catch her. Scary.
This afternoon, while the older kids were playing outside, I was enjoying some toddler time. Then I noticed Rachel was no longer in the living room. Not hearing her in the dining room or kitchen, I headed to the stairway.
The gate was open.
And there she was. Standing at the top of the stairs.
My heart nearly stopped.
Rachel, on the other hand, was as cool as a cucumber.
The kids cooked dinner last night. Mostly.
I asked Joshua to head up a team to make waffle batter. He is well prepared for such a task, having been a kitchen helper since he could stand on a chair. He has about one year of experience making things on his own. He can make pizza dough, bread dough (because it's really the same as pizza dough), cook bacon and pancakes on the griddle, and fry eggs.
The batter making process went smoothly and the kids even cleaned up after themselves as an added bonus. I, however, was out of the kitchen so I didn't know all that actually went into the batter. Neither did I know how much of everything went into the batter.
Come time to cook the waffles I noticed that the batter was a little too yellow, a little too thick, and a little scant. I assumed that I had just forgotten how this particular recipe turns out.
The waffles cooked quickly and were a wonderfully crips golden brown. They didn't seem to hold together like usual, but they looked great.
Then I tasted one. It was rather salty. In fact, it was salty enough and not quite as waffle-y as I expected from a tried and true recipe, that I began asking questions.
"How much flour did you put in?"
"Four cups."
"Okay, how much oil did you put in?"
"One cup." (No one said waffles were healthy!)
"Okay, how much milk did you put in?"
"One cup."
"I think the recipe said 3 1/2 cups."
"No, it said three to one or two. So we put in one."
"Okay...well, how much salt did you put in?"
"One and half teaspoons."
"Didn't the recipe say half of a teaspoon."
"Oh."
"Yeah..."
One third of the flour and three times the salt. That's just how we roll sometimes.
