Zen Parenting

There are two kinds of parents on the playground.  First there are those parents who on a Saturday morning are there with their Starbucks coffee and children stylishly dressed in Baby Gap.  The park is their first stop before they go to Mommy-and-Me yoga.  They are urban parents whose urban child (because they have one or two at the most) is the center of their world.  Upon arriving at the playground they lather the child up in sunscreen, put sunglasses on them, possibly knee and/or elbow pads, and a hat.  The child then goes off to play with Mommy or Daddy a mere 2 feet behind them at all times.  Up the ladder of the play structure.  Careful, don't get close to the edge.  Across the clanging bridge.  No, don't go up the slide; that isn't the right way. Around to the swings.  No, these wood chips aren't for playing.  If you want to play like that we have to go to the sand area. Around, under, up and down the child goes with the parent hovering behind.  No, Honey, that part of the playground is for children 5-12 years old.  You are only 4.  Soon they have to stop to drink water or juice from a child sized bottle or box.  If that child should, God forbid, fall down and get a scrape out comes baby wipes, antiseptic wipes, Neosporan, bandaids, and an ice pack.

Then there is me.  I show up at the park, open the doors of the van and say, "Go."  The kids who are dressed in true play clothes--clothes I could not care less if they get dirty or rip, run full speed towards the nearest structure.  I find a spot in the shade where I sit with the baby and take a deep breath.  Isn't it a lovely morning.  I watch the children--constantly doing head counts, but leave them to play on their own.  On top of the monkey bars, are you serious, Meg?  Up the slide is OK as long as no one is trying to come down.  Swinging on your belly? Great!  You're a superhero flying to rescue the damsel in distress. And I abide the dirty looks from the other urban parents who must be secretly wondering if I just forgot the sunscreen and hats or if I am just clueless.

Recently we found a little book at the library.  It amused me and annoyed me at the same time.  This is the only video of it I could find: Urban Babies Wear Black.

The way parents discipline in public is different, too.  Today I watched a mother say calmly as her child was pushing another child off a spinning thingy, "I'm counting to five.  One.......two.......three......four......five.  Did you hear me?  You need to let go.  I'm counting......."  I guess the counting was just not that terrifying.  The child finally got bored of the spinning thing or of terrorizing the other kid and ran off. 

I've made a study of public discipline.  When we lived in not-so-nice a neighborhood and we'd stop at the market you'd hear a mother say, "Child!  You better get your behind over here.  Don't make me come to you.  I swear I will take this slipper off and smack you."  Hilarious.  The child would come back, smiling.

Now you never hear that sort of thing at say, Whole Foods.  You hear parents say things more like, "Sweetie, that isn't the way to behave.  I know you don't mean to be naughty.  I want you to come back into being and be aware of what you are doing.  Can you do that?  Let's do it together."  And then they say things apologetically to other customers like, "She's just so tired.  It was a busy day what with her art class and a playdate."

In public, I tend to holler at the children in Mongolian because it's easier and I don't get any dirty looks, only curious ones.

This morning at the playground a father shadowed his little girl all over the playground.  As I stood next to the stroller, visually following my kids, he asked me, "Are all these little ones yours?  At what point do you stop worrying about them climbing and falling?"  I just sort of laughed and said, "Well, he [pointing to Belgee] has been a monkey since he could walk.  Always climbing, even at home.  And I just figure that I survived my childhood before there was all the safety protocols in place.  So, we've just had to learn to relax and trust."

"Well," he laughed and replied, "She's our first and I don't think we've reached that level of zen parenting yet."

Okey-dokey.

Ordinary Days

This exactly fits my mood and meditations lately.  A perfect continuation from this post.

Before you hit play, get your handkerchief.  If you click play before you do so, don't say I didn't warn you.




H/T: Starr at Lost In Laundry

Answering Your Questions: Introducing Solids

Q. When do you introduce solid food to your children and what foods do you introduce first?


A. Several new parents have asked me recently how and when we introduce solid foods to our babies.

(Note: With all our children we have loosely followed Shonda Parker's food introduction guidelines in Mommy Diagnostics.)


Our family's guidelines, outlined below, are for breastfed babies. If your baby is formula feeding you may need to supplement with solid foods sooner than for breastfed babies. Breastfed children are having nature's perfect food, so you need not worry so much when the solid foods come in.

The first thing to keep in mind is readiness to try solid foods. This does not have very much to do with age. One of my children was eating solids at about 6 months. Several have not been very interested until after one year old. Look for a few different things that together may indicate readiness. 1) the appearance of teeth, 2) weight of 17 pounds, 3) can sit up on his own with good head control, 4) is reaching for things to put in mouth, 5) can push food away as well as swallow back instead of just pushing the food out and/or gagging. I think these indicators usually put a baby around 9 months old. I feel like most new parents introduce foods too early rather than too late. It's understandable because it is a fun milestone for parents and children.


We try to approach introducing food without stressing about it. Breastfeeding helps. If the child doesn't take eagerly to food, that's OK. I don't try to be neat, but to just let the child enjoy food. I sometimes just plop some food on the high chair tray and let the child just finger it, smear it around, get it all over his or her face. This is exploration and play.


Also, I have never (to my recollection) ever purchased baby food. I don't buy processed, convenience foods for the rest of the family, so why would I feed it to the baby whose nutritional needs are completely in my hands?

It's simple as can be to make baby food. You can use a blender, food processor, baby food grinder, or even just a fork for some foods. I also have a baby food grinder that I just keep in my diaper bag. If we go out to eat or eat at someone else's house my vegetables can be easily prepared for the baby. Some foods can be given raw (such as bananas). Others you can bake or lightly steam. Process them until smooth enough not to cause gagging or choking. To make food easily accepted by the baby, you can add expressed breast milk.


The first foods we introduce are root vegetables: sweet potatoes, beets, carrots, turnips, jicama and others.

Then we introduce bananas and avocados.

Then we introduce other vegetables and fruits, depending on what is in season.

Grains come in after vegetables. We'll use oatmeal, millet, brown rice, wheat germ and other whole grains. I do not buy those just-add-water baby grains. Have you ever tried that stuff? Tastes like paste! And does not actually offer any nutrition to speak of.

Most of our children have never had a bottle and those that did only did a few times. When it comes time for baby to drink we go straight to a cup or sippy cup. And they drink water. When nursing sessions decrease in frequency we offer them rice, soy, or nut milk.

We do not make the children eat meat, eggs or drink cow's milk until sometime after one year old and would not be concerned if the children didn't eat these until two years old. When we do offer dairy (after vegetables and fruits) we do cultured dairy (such as yogurt and kefir).


Parents have a variety of concerns when it comes to introducing solid food to their children. Here are some common questions and my views:

• What about protein?

Yes, children do need protein. But how much? They don't need to sit down and eat a steak. The equivalent of two bites of chicken is about sufficient for a whole day. But, it doesn't have to be meat! Nut butters, beans, and even some grains (such as millet) have more than enough protein.

• What about iron?

Nuts, seeds, beans, tofu, eggs, and other non-meat sources offer more than enough iron for little children.

• What about calcium?

I have breastfed all my babies past a year, so adequate calcium intake has not been a problem. By the time they are completely weaned (for a few of my children that has been almost three years old) they are eating enough solids and drinking milk to meet their calcium needs.

How do I know my child is eating enough?


For a child raised on healthy, natural, unprocessed foods with no additives or artificial ingredients and who lives an active life of play and activity, over-eating should not be a concern. You can feed your child as much as he or she wants to eat. Likewise if your child doesn't seem to be eating much at all, don't worry. Just keep offering it. He or she will eventually catch on and eat what you offer. Resist the urge to try to make the food "enticing" with fancy packaging, adding color, sugar, syrup, etc. Your child will like the taste of natural foods if that is what you consistently serve.

(All pictures of Saraa's first experience with solid food. Mashed steamed sweet potatoes.)

A Peace Retreat

And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding,

shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.

Philippians 4:7

How do you handle frustration and conflict in your home--especially between your children? Some parents try to eliminate all conflict for their children and make frustration non-existent. But what does a child really learn that way? Frustrations in life will happen. Everyone will have bad days, days when they are not on top of their game, days when things do not go as planned. Being misunderstood is part of the human experience. Thankfully, we have a Friend who is familiar with the feeling.

Instead of eliminating conflict, we'd much rather teach our children how to deal with it.

I was recently so inspired by this post. "What a lovely idea!" I thought and immediately set out to create a peace retreat in our home.

I started by rearranging the furniture in our little apartment to make room. I bought a little stool/storage ottoman from Target on clearance and a scented candle. And I started making a prayer book. It has pictures and collages to help the little ones (especially the ones who cannot yet read) to meditate on the Prince of Peace.

But Jesus often withdrew to the wilderness for prayer.

Luke 5:16

Right away the children started using the peace retreat. When the noise and commotion of this big family got overwhelming, I'd find one of them sitting there looking at a book or praying. A couple days after setting up the peace retreat, Captain (four years old) was very frustrated with his older siblings. Clearly, he wasn't being understood and that made him angry! I picked him up and put him on the stool. "Would you like to spend some time with Jesus, Cappy?" He nodded, his eyes full of tears.

I lit the candle and left him with the prayer books. Ten to fifteen minutes later he got up and went to his room, a changed boy. That night as I tucked him in he said, "Mom, the next time I'm naughty, I'll put myself in the peace retreat."

There is a notebook there where the children have doodled or written prophetic notes while spending time with Jesus. There is a picture of two stick figures walking together--one big person and one small person. I'm told that it is Jesus and Luc. On another page there is a note that says "I love you, Israel." In the same handwriting on the next page it says, "Jesus, why did you write that?"

It warms my heart to see my children having conversations with the One Who Is Peace. I love it that they are learning to separate themselves from their play, the TV, their books and all other things and to spend time with Jesus.

Often Moms need a peace retreat with Jesus, too.

An Open Letter to The Norton Simon

Dear Staff of Norton Simon Museum,

Would it kill you to smile? Especially to little children who are enthralled with art?

And do you have to tell them not to run when they are walking beside me holding the stroller? Or was that a "just in case they decided to run" kind of thing?

And when you hear a mother give her kids directions like "Don't touch" repeating "Don't let them touch" to the mother and this repeats for the whole museum experience, don't be surprised that when the happy family with the irritated mother leaves the museum and one more person repeats instructions to the mother which she just gave to the children that she snaps at you.

We'll be back. So, get used to it.

The Tribe

A Perfect Mothering Moment

He gives his beloved sleep. Psalm 127:2

I love those perfect mothering moments. A moment that makes all the frustrating moments, all the tiring moments, all the less-than-beautiful moments fade away. A moment that makes everything worth it.



Last night I woke up to tend to the baby who had awakened. I cuddled him for a bit and then set him back in bed sleeping. He is lovely to watch sleep--so peaceful and beautiful. Yet, that wasn't the perfect moment to which I refer.



When I crept back to my bed in the dark a found a cuddly soft little one between Gana and I. Luc had weaseled his way into our bed, as he does many nights. I never can recall when he gets there, I just wake up to his sleepy sweetness. I scooted him over and said, "I love you, Lukey. Do you love me?" (I adore talking to my kids and making my kids talk to me while they sleep.)



In his sleep he said "Yes" and gave me a kiss. He rolled over and threw an arm over me.



The sweetest way for a mama to sleep is with the snuggliest kid. The sweetest way for the snuggliest kid to sleep is between his mama and daddy where he feels safe and loved.

When I was a teenager and young adult God was taking me through a season of healing from some less-than-lovely-things in my young life. While trying to sleep I would close my eyes and imagine myself sleeping in the center of the hand of God--snuggled up, safe and loved. It's still a comforting meditation for me.

The eternal God is your refuge, and his everlasting arms are under you. He thrusts out the enemy before you; it is he who cries, `Destroy them!' Deut. 33:27

I hope some day Luc connects the feelings of peace he feels when in our arms with the peace that passes all understanding that comes when in God's arms. When you really think about it, as his parents, Gana and I, are Luc's first understanding of God. To what else is he to compare God?

I pray he never has to unlearn what we model before him, but merely transfer the positive images to someone bigger, infinitely more competent and perfect.

A perfect mothering moment--a delightful sensation, yes. But, even more, an eternal lesson in the loving heart of God.

But I have stilled and quieted myself, just as a small child is quiet with its mother. Yes, like a small child is my soul within me. Psalm 131:2

Mercy and The Chocolate Cake

This afternoon I asked the kids what God was saying for today. Meg said something to the effect of "God wants us to enjoy this beautiful day." Israel started to copy Meg, then he stopped short and said, "No, wait." [Pause for listening to God.] "God says that today is a day for mercy."


Wow! I used this word from God as a theme for tonight's cell group. I take what God tells my children seriously.


Today was also Luc's stuffed porcupine's birthday. Yes, believe it or not, I let my children celebrate the birthdays of random toys. It's an excuse to eat cake.


Earlier today we made a cake for Porcupine. I told the children we would eat it and sing to Porcupine after cell group. So, the chocolate dinosaur cake (which is what Porcupine asked for through his translator, Luc) was put away until all the cell members had gone.

The cake the kids made. It's a volcano.

After cell group I went into the boys room to assess the damage. (The many children who attend cell group come and go from the meeting to the room, playing. They all make a mess, which I don't mind. They are kids, after all!) I was shocked not just to see toys everywhere (which is normal) but to see clothes from the closet all over the floor. This was particularly upsetting because I had spent at least an hour yesterday organizing the boys' closet and sorting their clothes. All my hard work was undone. Plus, I had clearly told the children not to play in the closet.


I heard myself say, "That's it! Put your pajamas on and go to bed! No cake! You don't deserve it! This is just plain ol' disobedience! I might just throw the cake away!"

(Yes, I really said that.)


Even while saying that the Lord was whispering, "Mercy triumphs over judgement."

I stormed out of the room. I could hear Meg crying. They had so looked forward to that silly cake. They got in their pajamas and cleaned up right away. I was nursing the baby and sort of seething (all the while the Lord was saying, "Mercy. Mercy. Mercy."). Luc came to me and said, "Mommy, please don't throw Porcupine's cake away."

I called the children to me. I said, "Do you deserve the cake?" They all said no with tears in their eyes. I said, "What is mercy?" Below is Israel's answer.

Yes, we had cake. And we sang and gave presents to a stuffed porcupine.





Yes, Israel, everyone needs mercy--even Mommy.

Yes, that's the coffee you're smellin'

Californians got a wake up call recently when the LA County Courts ruled that homeschooling is illegal. This is not just a homeschooling issue. This is not just an issue for Californians. Wake up and smell the coffee! The government wants to interfere with the family. The desires of the State are more important than the rights of individuals. The government does not trust parents to decided what is best for their children, be that educationally, medically, socially or religiously.

If we do not stand up for parental rights we will see a slippery slope of governmental interference in private lives!

Read the court opinion here.

Sign a petition here.

The Home School Legal Defense Association (HSLDA) responds to the court's decision here.

The bottom line is that God gave ME and MY HUSBAND these children. It is our right and responsibility to look after them and to decide how and where we want them educated.

Although not all, most homeschoolers are religious, if not Christian. This ruling is not just a slap in the face of parental rights, but for all those who homeschool for religious reasons, it is a violation of religious freedom as well.

If the government is allowed to encroach on our religious and personal freedom in this matter, do not be surprised if soon they tell us we cannot "brainwash" our children by requiring church attendance or baptism or communion. The secular state will always take more then we meant to give them.

Yes, that is the coffee you are smelling. I hope you are awake.

File Under: What is the world coming to?

I feel sorry for some kids.

http://www.babybungalow.com/keitupbopr.html
http://www.littlewonders.com/ http://www.bottlesling.com/

Do you ever wonder if starting children eating like this has anything to do with the obesity problem in our country? I do. Babies are looking for love and we don't interact with them, just prop up a bottle. Is it any wonder kids confuse food and love?

Babies need love to survive. Social attention is life itself
to the human baby. --Karen Pryor

The Color Of Virtue

"Blushing is the color of virtue."-Diogenes

Recently Meg and I have a spent a bit of time in the dentist office. Every time they are blaring (and I do mean blaring!) the TV and it's always on soap operas. The first time we went I tried to keep Meg from watching it by looking at their vast selection of magazines. We could choose from a magazine about things to do in L.A. County, an ancient Better Homes and Gardens, and trashy tabloids. I could tell immediately we were in a quality dental care facility.

The next time we went, I came prepared with our reading book, Little Women. So, we found a spot that wasn't in direct view of the soap opera and I read aloud to Meg. This was a great arrangement for us. Keeping our eyes off the half-naked people and personal dramas, at the same time being amused and inspired by Louissa May Alcott's timeless characters.

Sitting in front of us in the waiting room was a woman in a full burka. She was completely engrossed in the soap opera. In fact, she was responding to the drama the way some people do in church--waving her hands and shouting! As she cheered this way she said such things as "You go!" "That's right!" "Oh, I can't believe he's the father of her baby!! Oh no!" "I can't belive it! What a wh**e!" And so on. It was almost entertaining to watch her, except for the fact that when I started reading to Meg (and I was discreet about it. I wasn't trying to read to the whole room by any means.) she gave me a series of dirty looks and then got up, walked over to the TV and TURNED UP THE VOLUME!

This whole scenario gave me pause for meditation on the true meaning of modesty. One can be in a full burka with everything covered but part of the face and not be in the least bit modest.

What happened to our ability to blush? Why can we sit in a public place and watch love scenes and cheer for immorality? The pretense of modesty means nothing. The condition of the heart means everything.

I Peter 3:4, "Instead, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty
of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God's sight."

It reminds me to concentrate of the character and heart of my daughter and not simply on conforming behavior. In the end, conforming behavior just doesn't do enough.

Meg dancing before the Lord

Musical Beds

Sunday night Meg was not feeling well, so she fell asleep in our bed. Israel was in his bed, Luc and Caesar in their bed and Belgee in the crib in Meg's room. When it was time for us to go to bed we moved Meg to a makeshift bed on our floor so that we could keep an eye on her.

About forty minutes after going to sleep the baby cried. So, I got out of bed, got the baby and brought him back to bed with me. When I got back to my room Gana was on my side of the bed. So, I climbed in on his side.

The baby nursed and then decided it was time to play and started batting me in the head and pulling my hair.

I returned the baby to the crib so he could play by himself! I got back in my own bed. About forty minutes went by and Caesar started crying, "Mommy! Mommy!" So, I went to his room. I laid down with him (and Luc) and calmed him. Then I went back to my bed. Then Caesar began again. So, I got him out of bed and laid him on the couch and I calmed him there and left him there sleeping. By the time this was done at least an hour had passed. I got back in my bed. About thirty minutes later Israel crawled into my bed. He had a fever. So, I slept with him and Gana in my bed (Meg still on the floor) for about 30 minutes when the baby started crying. So, I got up and got him out of his crib, but there wasn't room to return to my bed because Caesar was now in there, too. He'd taken himself from the couch to my bed while I was dealing with the baby.

So, I lay on the futon mattress on Meg's floor and nursed the baby back to sleep.

Then I heard my alarm in my room go off. But, apparantly all those sleeping in there are deaf. So, I left the baby on the futon mattress and went to my room and turned it off. Desperate for a few minutes of shut-eye, I lay on the couch and slept for about thirty minutes. Luc joined me.

In the all night version of musical beds, I think I was the one left out of the sleep.

And the family wonders why Mommy was a wee bit testy at breakfast.

Blog o' the Week

This has been a very busy couple of days for me. I have been blessed to be watching my brother's children while he and his wife attend the Prophetic House of Prayer Conference at our church. In addition, I have also been watching two of my pastor's children. So, that brings the kid count to ten here. That's a lot of peanut butter and jelly.

In the evenings I have been so tired. And then last night I read this post from Starr at Lost in Laundry and I was so encouraged.

It's a short but beautiful post. It did my mother's heart good! Please check it out.

In that same vein, enjoy the following old poem:

Mother, oh Mother, come shake out your cloth
empty the dustpan, poison the moth,
hang out the washing and butter the bread,
sew on a button and make up a bed.

Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?
She's up in the nursery, blissfully rocking.

Oh, I've grown shiftless as Little Boy Blue
(lullaby, rockabye, lullaby loo).
Dishes are waiting and bills are past due
(pat-a-cake, darling, and peek, peekaboo).

The shopping's not done and there's nothing for stew
and out in the yard there's a hullabaloo
but I'm playing Kanga and this is my Roo.
Look! Aren't her eyes the most wonderful hue?
(lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo).

The cleaning and scrubbing will wait till tomorrow,
for children grow up, as I've learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down, cobwebs. Dust go to sleep.
I'm rocking my baby and babies don't keep.
-- Author Unknown

Not Passing On My Fears

When I was a kid I rode on the back of my Daddy's motorcycle. Since I've become an adult I've done it only once. And to tell the truth, I didn't really enjoy it. I've become a chicken since I've had children, I think. I've lost my nerve. (I wonder if I still like roller coasters. I used to love them. But, I haven't been on one since I've had kids. Seems I'm always pregnant or something.)

Anyway, the only reason I let the kids do the following is because I refuse to pass on my fears to my children.

Meg:

Israel:

Luc, who only rode in the driveway:

Caesar, who only sat on the motorcycle and didn't actually ride at all. Mama isn't THAT brave!

Bath Time With Baby

You can call this post the sequel to "Parenting Must Haves." This illustrates the way I feel many times in various "Moms Groups" or "Wives Groups." Lots more great stuff at Hathor the Cow Goddess.

Adventures in Unschooling

The current poll is to find out what posts you want more of on this blog. So far the tally is "Family, parenting and funny things the kids say." Although only three readers have voted--I hope that's not an indication of a flagging readership.

Anyway, in that spirit, I present Adventures in Unschooling:



For a science project Israel made a "rubber" egg. This is done by placing a whole, raw egg in a jar and covering it with vinegar. Leave it alone for three days. Then you have a strange-sort-of-yucky-to-touch-but-very-cool egg. After said days we retrieved the egg. I gave it to Israel.


"Please be careful" I said. "You can go show Daddy and the kids, but don't squeeze it. It will break."


"OK, Mom!" He showed Daddy and Luc who were in the dining room. He found Meg in my bedroom sitting on the bed with the baby. " Look Meg!"...and then you could almost hear the crescendo of the orchestra as the egg was displayed in his outstretched hand and then squeezed tightly. And my clean sheets and Meg's legs and Israel's pajamas were covered with three day old "rubber" egg guts.


MORAL: If you cannot resist the urge to squeeze a rubber egg do it before you are dressed.

~*~

Last week I wanted to show Meg and Israel the Lunar Eclipse as a jumping off point for a study of the solar system. So, I set my alarm for 2 AM. I got up, checked out the moon. Around 3 AM I woke up the kids. They stumbled out the front door and down the steps to the driveway. They gazed at the moon with their glazed over eyes. "Cool." They said.

After a few moments, Meg, scratching her head said, "Mom, is this ever going to happen again?"

"Sure," I said. "It doesn't happen often, but it will happen again."

"Good," she said and turned to go inside.

MORAL: Before you blow off a first opportunity, make sure that there will be a second.


Although it may seem like my children have selective hearing loss, I am realizing that they listen to everything I say. Last night I let the kids eat a simple supper outside on the front porch. (It was like a sauna in the house.) This gave me a great advantage for eavesdropping from inside. I heard Meg telling Israel, "It might be just too dangerous, but you'll have to go. And you can't be a Daddy if God sends you to a place that's too dangerous."


I had to know. So, I asked and Meg said, "Oh, I was just explaining to Israel why God doesn't let everybody get married."

I found this interesting for several reasons.

1. They are five and six years old, planning whether or not they'll get married.

2. They are both thinking in a missional way. Their lives will of course involve missions, they just don't know where.

3. It is assumed that if you marry, you have children. They go together. Interesting in light of a recent conversation with a friend who intended to get married but was questioning whether God ever wanted her to have children. Meg and Israel know from a point of the natural order of things that if you get married you are supposed to have children.

4. Meg and Israel took it all in stride that they very well may go to a place that was very dangerous.

5. Meg was recalling a conversation we apparantly had, but that I have no recollection of.


MORAL: Kids hear what we say and what we live. So, live and speak well.

My Personal Staircase to Heaven

There are eighteen rather steep and slightly dangerous steps leading up to our back entrance—the entrance that leads to where we park our car. Ascending the stairs is not unlike scaling a small mountain, except that there is no oxygen offered at the top only a door with a sticky lock.

This morning we had a homeschool co-op planning meeting. So, I instructed all the children to put their shoes on. Carrying the diaper bag, the sling and the baby I descended the stairs, went to the car and unloaded everything and the baby. I climbed back up the stairs, locked the back door and carried Caesar down the stairs. After making sure everyone was properly buckled in car seats and boosters I started the car. I then remembered that I had forgotten some books I needed for the meeting. I ascended the stairs, fought with the lock, got the books and descended the stairs.

Upon arriving back at home several hours and five sweaty and rather sandy (thanks to the playground they made ample use of during the meeting) children later I carried the baby back up the stairs, fought with the lock and placed him in the co-sleeper. Then I descended the stairs and took a sleeping Caesar from the car and carried him up the stairs. Deposited him in his crib. Made PB&J for lunch.

A couple hours later it was time for soccer. I carried the baby and Caesar down the stairs at the same time, giving the diaper bag, water jug, and picnic blanket to the older children.

At the end of soccer Gana took the two eldest swimming for the soccer camp pool party. I stopped at the grocery store on the way home. Then I carried Caesar and two jugs of milk up the stairs. Fought with the lock. Went back down the stairs and got the baby and the diaper bag and ascended the stairs again.

[Breaking a sweat just retelling this. Note to self: get a personal trainer.]

One hour later carried Ihbeleg and Caesar back down the stairs to the car. I had to pick up the kids from the pool because Gana had met us there in his car and there is not a back seat for the children. Drove home with five children. Carried Caesar and Ihbeleg back up the stairs. Fought with lock.

Collapsed in a heap? Nope. Made dinner, gave baths, tidied kids’ rooms, typed an invoice, emailed childbirth class students, bandaged a skinned knee, then sat on the couch with a cup of tea and the TV remote. Reminds me that there is another good use for TV. To help one forget the 234 steps climbed while carrying a linebacker toddler, his little brother, the diaper bag, school books, and groceries.

[Is it any wonder I’ve just about lost the 65 pounds I put on during pregnancy?]

My children are worth it, though. Even at the end of the day when my legs are now feeling like lead weights, I wouldn't change today. We had fun together. I got to see Meg score a goal. I got to help plan what looks like a fantastic homeschooling year with our new co-op. My children made new friends, (one who Israel says is named Janeequa, but she's white, so I'm not sure). We laughed a lot. We played a lot. We learned some lessons (such as a box of grits when shaken not only makes a soft percussion instrument, it also causes it to snow indoors).

Step by step the Lord is leading me and helping me daily to be a better parent, but more importantly a better person. Step-by-step times 18 times 13 trips. Each time I think, "This is exhausting." Followed by "This is worth it." Worth it for the sake of the fabulous five, yes. But, also worth it because my own character is being conformed to the image of Christ.

It seems that the Lord is tenderly leading me these days. True to His Word of course. Isaiah 40:11, "He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; he gently leads those that have young."

What a lovely visual....

I am being gently led.....

Not forced....

Not coerced....

Just showed the stairs and the Lord says, "Take another step. It's worth it."

Here's parenting for you!

When I was a child, my mother said to me, 'If you become a soldier, you will become a general. If you become a monk, then you will end up as Pope.' Instead, I became a painter, and wound up as Picasso.

-Pablo Picasso

People Pleasing

You know, I think one can learn a lot from criticism if one takes the time to consider the source and is willing to take a long hard honest look at oneself.

Recently we were fairly harshly criticized for our parenting. In essence we were told we were bad parents. In addition to that the children of the criticizers are not allowed to socialize with my children outside obligatory functions because my kids are a “bad influence.”

Let me tell you, I still have not completely recovered from hearing this. It literally took my breath away. I was so hurt and cried a good long cry.

It is true that our parenting style is different from others. We are striving to raise our children the way God is leading us. We are constantly looking for revelation into how God parents us and using that as insight into how we can parent our children.

So, my parenting philosophy (which I’ve been meaning to blog about for a while—I’ll get to it soon) was not shaken. But, my feelings were hurt. Really hurt. Was I more hurt for what was said against me or for what was said against my kids….ah, that was the question!

When I was able to step back a bit, I asked myself WHY this criticism bothered me so much. The Lord used this incident to show me that I’m still a people pleaser.

OUCH! I thought I’d worked my people pleasing out already. I thought I’d settled that issue long ago before the Lord. Alas, I have not.

I care deeply what other people think of me. I want to be acceptable in the eyes of others. If others look down on me or try to put me down, I get defensive. I want people to think that I am great, clever, talented, a good driver, pretty. I want to be the one who has it all together. It may be a façade, but I still want people to think it. Yes, I am that shallow.

All the while, I know that I am fairly average looking, with only moderate intelligence (thankfully I’ve been gifted with some common sense to compensate!). I know, though I generally don’t let it be known, that I blog when I should be cleaning my desk, I sleep late when I should be up spending time with God, I give my children cold cereal for breakfast even though it’s pretty much void of sustaining nutrition.

There ya go, folks. I’m letting my guard down. I’m being genuine. Once again I’m attempting a fatal wound to my compulsive people pleasing!

In the end, I know full well, that it doesn’t matter what you think of me. It matters only what God thinks of me. It doesn’t truly matter where I am now in my walk, what matters is which direction I’m heading and that I’m not standing still.

The speaker at church this morning, Charles Stock, said, “Our transformation is not based on how hard we work, but by how intently we behold Him.” (II Corinthians 3:18)

The Lord brought me to this verse: “Blessed are you when they….say all kinds of evil against you falsely for My sake. Rejoice and be exceedingly glad, for great is your reward in heaven…” Matthew 5:11-12

The Message says it this way: "Not only that—count yourselves blessed every time people put you down or throw you out or speak lies about you to discredit me. What it means is that the truth is too close for comfort and they are uncomfortable. You can be glad when that happens—give a cheer, even!—for though they don't like it, I do! And all heaven applauds. And know that you are in good company. My prophets and witnesses have always gotten into this kind of trouble.”

My goal is to live afresh for the Audience (God and the great cloud of witnesses in heaven) and not for the critics.

Take that People Pleasing!

Charles Spurgeon On Parenting

"You may speak but a word to a child, and in that child there may be slumbering a noble heart which shall stir the Christian Church in years to come." - Charles Spurgeon

The Slumber Party Prayer

"He gives His beloved sleep." Psalm 127:2

On my 101 list I put "Have little girls over for a slumber party." Meg has wanted to have a slumber party for some time now. Sometime in January or February she told me that for her birthday she wanted to have a sleep over. I was hesistant to promise any such thing. We had just moved to a new town, didn't have a church, didn't have a homeschool group and none of our neighbors had little children her age.

But, it was what my daughter wanted. If you're a parent you know how it is. When something is truly the desire of your child's heart it becomes the desire of your heart, too.

So, I went to the Lord. I don't know about you, but I believe that God cares about what I care about. He's a parent, too, you know. What matters to His child, matters to Him. I asked Him for little girlfriends for Meg by her sixth birthday.

Well, guess what? On Friday Nana, Grandma, Jayde (a young lady from my parent's church), three little girls from our homeschool co-op, and one little girl from our church came over for the slumber party! Meg celebrated her sixth birthday in style in true answer to her mommy's prayers.

Here are some highlights from party central:

First we had the dinner of Meg's choosing. It was grilled cheese sandwiches and fruit (grapes, strawberries and raspberries).

Then we had cake and opened presents.

Next came a craft project beading bracelets, which turned out to be more challenging than expected because some crucial parts were missing from the kit purchased at Target. Oh, well! One of the little girls' mom was recruited to help. She assisted the girls in finishing their custom jewelry project. (Thanks Minoska!)



Then came some beauty shop nail painting.

Clever new way to get your nails to dry faster.

When the nails were dry, out came the snacks and movie.

Apples and carmel dip, hot chocolate and cookies.

The movie Meg and I chose for her party was Rogers and Hammerstein's Cinderella. (The one with Brandy.) I realized part of the way through it that this was the same movie I was watching six years ago while in labor with Meg when my water broke!

The girls had fun dancing and singing along to the musical.

The girls stayed up late whispering and giggling. The last girl fell asleep around 2am!


In the morning we ate Dutch Baby and Bacon (again, the food of Meg's choosing). The girls spent the rest of the morning playing outside in and around the treehouse.


I thought Meg might be a wreck today due to so little sleep. But, surprisingly she did very well. I just might let her do this again! Actually, truth be told, I had as much fun as she did. I delight to see little girls being little girls. There seems something very right about the innocent pleasures of youth.


I would also like to say that my appreciation for my mother has once again been stirred. How many of my sister's and my little slumber parties did she host? Tons! I think I probably owe her about 1,000 hours of lost sleep. I suppose the willingness to do things for your kids is hereditary. My grandma used to wake her kids up in the middle of the night so they could play in freshly falling snow!

I am so grateful to God for surrounding us with friends. We've lived here such a short amount of time. And yet, God has so graciously provided a place for us and people who care about us. My God is one who answers Slumber Party Prayers.