Easter is such a precious time in the life of a Christian. The celebration of Christ's gift to us. The reminder that He REALLY does know and feel exactly what we are going through, because he went through that and more, first!
Today as I write on Good Friday, I can't help but think about what this day was like for Jesus. He was betrayed by his closest friends, lied about, illegally tried, falsely accused, and then beaten and ripped, and stabbed, and laughed at all for me.
I am so not worthy. I complain, moan about insignificant things, am not always thankful enough - too busy most days looking forward, but always ready to call out to Him in my time of need. Amazingly He is always there, no matter how selfish or childish I may have been, and always ready to give comfort, peace, replace my sorrow for joy, and spur me on. Even when He himself did not complain!
So, as my weakness is moved to strength through Him I am so blessed and thankful. Thankful that He loves me despite me being me, and so thankful that He has blessed me so richly with a Godly husband, family, friends, a church, children, job, and community. I am also blessed to live in the best country on Earth even though I sometimes even complain about that!
So, this Easter, be thankful, remember, and share Him with others.
Friday, April 10, 2009
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
To Tate "On Your Sixth Birthday"
Dear Tate,
Here we are, six years later. I sit here, thinking, remembering, and mainly thanking God for his blessings, protection, and favor in your life these past six years.
Because you were so young, you will never fully remember everything that has gone on with you, nor will you ever even have my perspective or that of your dad's or your sisters'. Your life has shaped ours in such profound ways - and I am so very thankful.
Let me tell you the beginning of your story:
In March of 2003 we welcomed you with such open arms and joy in our hearts - a little boy to add to our family - a surprise, but what a wonderful blessing for us all. It was actually Moo that told us first that we would have boy - later we had it confirmed by sonograms, but she never wavered in her three year old mind (personally I believe an angel let her know first and she just shared it with us).
Your dad and I had already been through some rough patches in our marriage and were stronger because of it. He was currently working two jobs to help pay off debt, but little did we understand how much we would need that second job of his in the years to follow - to help care for you.
The girls ate you up from the very beginning - gosh you were such a cute, round, blessing!! You were the first child I had an actual maternity leave with - one with very little pressure -except learning how to care for a boy. You breast fed great, but ate often. You spit up, not unlike your sisters, so that was no big deal to us, but your circumcision was the first issue I had. It grew back and one day after your bath I was drying you off and you were two weeks old (I couldn't drive yet) and your skin tore away where it was starting to grow back. Oh it bled - you cried, I cried - I had no idea what to do - Colleen came over and took me and my crying self and baby to the pediatrician. Oh my stars - it was awful for me - I just knew you would be scarred for life! (literally and figuratively) - but you weren't and the doctor assured me all was well - calmed me down and sent me on my way.
At your three month checkup all was well - I went back to work shortly after - you would not eat cereal of any kind - you still breast fed, but things were okay - We had Stephanie staying with us to take care of you and your sisters because no place had room for you in their daycare yet. She was such a wonderful friend during those first months of your life (so above and beyond the call of duty to live with a postpartum fruitcake, three small children, and help take care of all of us. Did I say "Saint Stephanie"? That is what I meant :D).
So, off I go, back to work - you still breast feeding - we are rocking along. About two or so weeks after Stephanie leaves to go home you start getting sick - really sick. It started with a reaction you had to the stomach medicine they put you on to help with your reflux. You had what I later learned - was an anaphylactic reaction to the compound it was mixed with. Of course God was with you, because all I knew was that you had taken the medicine and thrown up and fallen immediately asleep (all while standing up in your exersaucer- turns out you passed out). I knew enough that you weren't acting right, so I called a friend of mine that is a doctor - she affirmed that yes, you could be allergic to anything at anytime- just to watch you - see the clincher was - you had also been sick - struggling with asthma, too. So - we give the medicine again the next time it was due - you fall asleep and have whelps on your back - but you wake up and are clear - still trouble breathing - but no vomiting. This goes on about three doses - then your dad takes you in to see the pediatrician - he didn't see anything wrong - so we keep going - the next time I gave it I was home with you because your "sickness" had gotten worse - very loose stools, worse spit up, breathing worse - nebbing you all hours of the day and night and still breast feeding (did I say you wouldn't drink formula?) So, this day I am home - and I had given it to you - FINALLY you went to sleep- in your cradle sitting up in your car seat (you were also failure to thrive - at 18 mths you weighed 19 lbs). But, something wasn't right- I heard something - turned down the TV - thought it was you - went to check on you - You were swollen shut! You looked like a baby sumo wrestler - face and neck swollen - hands, everything - eyes swollen shut - the sound I heard was you trying to breathe - again, Tate, I am telling you- angels were guarding you. I called 911 - you went to the hospital.
They didn't admit you, but they did take you off that medication - after I called and researched what it was compounded with - I knew nothing about food allergies - nothing. Boy have I learned. You ended up having a milk allergy that was causing the majority of the issues, but that was not all. You were not growing, progressing, you stayed on steroids because of your lungs, you were literally sick all the time. I worked (at that time) 50 hours a week and still breast fed you - pumped at work and got just enough to put up for the next day's bottle at daycare. You spit up everything we gave you, threw up formulas we tried, and had EXPLOSIVE diarrhea. But, you were such a true JOY!!! Ask anyone. You loved to smile, loved people, were great with strangers, and didn't mind being left in the nursery when we got to go to church. You were such a good baby. Finally we got a referral to the ENT for tubes (because you also maintained ear infections during all of this, but the pediatrician did not feel the need to do allergy testing).
The ENT was fabulous. We still owe him so much. His appointment was a divine appointment set in motion years before by God when we met his father when your oldest sister was a baby, but that is another story. The ENT was all over your case - he began with tubes,and adnoidectomy, talked to us about immune deficiency issues with you, and had your IgE tested - then he did the wonderful and referred you to an allergist.
The allergist was amazed - at this point you were 9 months old - and your back scratch test lit up brighter than a Christmas tree!! You were off the charts on food allergies. Everyone was shocked. We changed pediatricians. You were put on Rice milk - you then became allergic to that - we tried soy - you developed an allergy to that - you literally were getting sicker every day. So, next came GI and pulmonology. All kinds of tests were run - at one year of age - you were still 16 lbs or less - staying on steroids, round the clock nebs, lots of meds - so you had a 24 hour pH probe done. That is when God opened my eyes. I knew you were a wonderful baby - even when sick - yes, you cried, yes, I cried, too some days - mainly from exhaustion - but seriously I didn't realize until that 24 hour stay how blessed I was. Even with Joel working two jobs (can we say stress in the marriage?)- even with you being on a formula that cost $190 a case of six cans (financial stress - insurance didn't cover)- and me working a 50 hour week (parenting stress - feeling like I was neglecting the other two). God blessed us over and over and over - like when we had to take you out of daycare because you were so sick and the doctor said you couldn't be around other kids or crowds for three months, and I had no FMLA left (because it had not been a year since I had had you) and God provided Sandy. I just can't imagine our lives without her influence or the love her family has shown us. She has given us prayer support, physical support, and so much more. Sandy stayed with you and took care of you and all your medications for three months - even though she was scared to death after watching the allergy video of what to do in case of anaphylaxis. Or, how we made it financially from month to month even though it never made sense on paper, despite all the work we were doing.
Tate, the people God continued to place in our lives - to talk with me, listen to me, help me learn, guide me through, pray with me, for you, and for us, has been nothing short of miraculous.
But, back to the pH probe. I was with you at Children's and your dad was with the girls at home. This had been a grueling first year of your life. I was exhausted, but so thankful, and became broken before God that night in the hospital. We met the family next door shortly after you had your tube placed in your nose and down your throat into your stomach. Their baby was exactly your age, same issues - food allergies, reflux, asthma, diarrhea, etc. Only difference was he screamed. He screamed all the time. He took his tube out of his nose and it had to be replaced - still he screamed. The parents were our age, the baby on steroids all the time (he was very bloated because of this), they had family support, but the baby screamed and screamed. The mom told me it was like this for them alot - that she would have to let him stay with her parents some because she couldn't take it, that she lost her job because he was so sick, and that they were having financial problems now. She also told me how her husband had picked up a second job so she didn't see him much, but that made things worse. Still that little boy cried and screamed.
When you went to sleep that night, I fell to my knees in front of that green hospital recliner, cried, asked forgiveness from God for all my anger and frustration I had been harboring toward him, my husband, and anyone else I may not know about because of the situation - I thanked God profusely for you - not just for you, but for your temperament, your love, your joy, your smile. I also thanked God for your sisters and continuing to take care of us by providing for us through people and prayer even when I didn't deserve it. I emptied my soul that night and haven't been the same about your illness since. It was freeing. It is not that life got easier after that night, it is that I realized God was giving me everything I needed to get through things one day at a time if I would just look toward Him and see His gifts - of people, prayers, jobs, food, sleep, tests, doctors, medical care, etc, Oh how I changed that night.
I know God is and will continue to use you in powerful ways, Tate.
I have grown so much in my walk with Christ because of your life here on Earth. I know that you will continue to touch the lives of those around you in powerful ways. I know what your name means (your real name, not your pseudonym), and I know that God is partial to you (like the man on the 700 Club prayer line told Sandy)!
I believe God will completely heal you - in the back of my mind I think this is the year - probably because that first allergist told us that most kids outgrow food allergies by age six - but even if this is not the year - I truly feel it is coming. We all know now we are not just dealing with food allergies where you are concerned - and it took another full year to get a diagnosis and I still remember receiving the phone call from the doctor with the news, but finally - a diagnosis!! This past year they did a clinical trial for a medicine to help kids like you. You got to be a part of the one here thanks again to a fabulous doctor - Dr. Mestre - so who knows, except God - what the future holds for you? But, Tate, if is anywhere near the impact you have had these past six years - WOW!! Go GOD!!
Happy, Happy, SIXTH Birthday my precious baby boy - you are a miracle from God and I treasure the days He continues to give us all with you!
This following list is not complete, but it is a start - hopefully through these past six years I have told you all "thank you" more than once. Without you, Tate would not be here still.
Here we are, six years later. I sit here, thinking, remembering, and mainly thanking God for his blessings, protection, and favor in your life these past six years.
Because you were so young, you will never fully remember everything that has gone on with you, nor will you ever even have my perspective or that of your dad's or your sisters'. Your life has shaped ours in such profound ways - and I am so very thankful.
Let me tell you the beginning of your story:
In March of 2003 we welcomed you with such open arms and joy in our hearts - a little boy to add to our family - a surprise, but what a wonderful blessing for us all. It was actually Moo that told us first that we would have boy - later we had it confirmed by sonograms, but she never wavered in her three year old mind (personally I believe an angel let her know first and she just shared it with us).
Your dad and I had already been through some rough patches in our marriage and were stronger because of it. He was currently working two jobs to help pay off debt, but little did we understand how much we would need that second job of his in the years to follow - to help care for you.
The girls ate you up from the very beginning - gosh you were such a cute, round, blessing!! You were the first child I had an actual maternity leave with - one with very little pressure -except learning how to care for a boy. You breast fed great, but ate often. You spit up, not unlike your sisters, so that was no big deal to us, but your circumcision was the first issue I had. It grew back and one day after your bath I was drying you off and you were two weeks old (I couldn't drive yet) and your skin tore away where it was starting to grow back. Oh it bled - you cried, I cried - I had no idea what to do - Colleen came over and took me and my crying self and baby to the pediatrician. Oh my stars - it was awful for me - I just knew you would be scarred for life! (literally and figuratively) - but you weren't and the doctor assured me all was well - calmed me down and sent me on my way.
At your three month checkup all was well - I went back to work shortly after - you would not eat cereal of any kind - you still breast fed, but things were okay - We had Stephanie staying with us to take care of you and your sisters because no place had room for you in their daycare yet. She was such a wonderful friend during those first months of your life (so above and beyond the call of duty to live with a postpartum fruitcake, three small children, and help take care of all of us. Did I say "Saint Stephanie"? That is what I meant :D).
So, off I go, back to work - you still breast feeding - we are rocking along. About two or so weeks after Stephanie leaves to go home you start getting sick - really sick. It started with a reaction you had to the stomach medicine they put you on to help with your reflux. You had what I later learned - was an anaphylactic reaction to the compound it was mixed with. Of course God was with you, because all I knew was that you had taken the medicine and thrown up and fallen immediately asleep (all while standing up in your exersaucer- turns out you passed out). I knew enough that you weren't acting right, so I called a friend of mine that is a doctor - she affirmed that yes, you could be allergic to anything at anytime- just to watch you - see the clincher was - you had also been sick - struggling with asthma, too. So - we give the medicine again the next time it was due - you fall asleep and have whelps on your back - but you wake up and are clear - still trouble breathing - but no vomiting. This goes on about three doses - then your dad takes you in to see the pediatrician - he didn't see anything wrong - so we keep going - the next time I gave it I was home with you because your "sickness" had gotten worse - very loose stools, worse spit up, breathing worse - nebbing you all hours of the day and night and still breast feeding (did I say you wouldn't drink formula?) So, this day I am home - and I had given it to you - FINALLY you went to sleep- in your cradle sitting up in your car seat (you were also failure to thrive - at 18 mths you weighed 19 lbs). But, something wasn't right- I heard something - turned down the TV - thought it was you - went to check on you - You were swollen shut! You looked like a baby sumo wrestler - face and neck swollen - hands, everything - eyes swollen shut - the sound I heard was you trying to breathe - again, Tate, I am telling you- angels were guarding you. I called 911 - you went to the hospital.
They didn't admit you, but they did take you off that medication - after I called and researched what it was compounded with - I knew nothing about food allergies - nothing. Boy have I learned. You ended up having a milk allergy that was causing the majority of the issues, but that was not all. You were not growing, progressing, you stayed on steroids because of your lungs, you were literally sick all the time. I worked (at that time) 50 hours a week and still breast fed you - pumped at work and got just enough to put up for the next day's bottle at daycare. You spit up everything we gave you, threw up formulas we tried, and had EXPLOSIVE diarrhea. But, you were such a true JOY!!! Ask anyone. You loved to smile, loved people, were great with strangers, and didn't mind being left in the nursery when we got to go to church. You were such a good baby. Finally we got a referral to the ENT for tubes (because you also maintained ear infections during all of this, but the pediatrician did not feel the need to do allergy testing).
The ENT was fabulous. We still owe him so much. His appointment was a divine appointment set in motion years before by God when we met his father when your oldest sister was a baby, but that is another story. The ENT was all over your case - he began with tubes,and adnoidectomy, talked to us about immune deficiency issues with you, and had your IgE tested - then he did the wonderful and referred you to an allergist.
The allergist was amazed - at this point you were 9 months old - and your back scratch test lit up brighter than a Christmas tree!! You were off the charts on food allergies. Everyone was shocked. We changed pediatricians. You were put on Rice milk - you then became allergic to that - we tried soy - you developed an allergy to that - you literally were getting sicker every day. So, next came GI and pulmonology. All kinds of tests were run - at one year of age - you were still 16 lbs or less - staying on steroids, round the clock nebs, lots of meds - so you had a 24 hour pH probe done. That is when God opened my eyes. I knew you were a wonderful baby - even when sick - yes, you cried, yes, I cried, too some days - mainly from exhaustion - but seriously I didn't realize until that 24 hour stay how blessed I was. Even with Joel working two jobs (can we say stress in the marriage?)- even with you being on a formula that cost $190 a case of six cans (financial stress - insurance didn't cover)- and me working a 50 hour week (parenting stress - feeling like I was neglecting the other two). God blessed us over and over and over - like when we had to take you out of daycare because you were so sick and the doctor said you couldn't be around other kids or crowds for three months, and I had no FMLA left (because it had not been a year since I had had you) and God provided Sandy. I just can't imagine our lives without her influence or the love her family has shown us. She has given us prayer support, physical support, and so much more. Sandy stayed with you and took care of you and all your medications for three months - even though she was scared to death after watching the allergy video of what to do in case of anaphylaxis. Or, how we made it financially from month to month even though it never made sense on paper, despite all the work we were doing.
Tate, the people God continued to place in our lives - to talk with me, listen to me, help me learn, guide me through, pray with me, for you, and for us, has been nothing short of miraculous.
But, back to the pH probe. I was with you at Children's and your dad was with the girls at home. This had been a grueling first year of your life. I was exhausted, but so thankful, and became broken before God that night in the hospital. We met the family next door shortly after you had your tube placed in your nose and down your throat into your stomach. Their baby was exactly your age, same issues - food allergies, reflux, asthma, diarrhea, etc. Only difference was he screamed. He screamed all the time. He took his tube out of his nose and it had to be replaced - still he screamed. The parents were our age, the baby on steroids all the time (he was very bloated because of this), they had family support, but the baby screamed and screamed. The mom told me it was like this for them alot - that she would have to let him stay with her parents some because she couldn't take it, that she lost her job because he was so sick, and that they were having financial problems now. She also told me how her husband had picked up a second job so she didn't see him much, but that made things worse. Still that little boy cried and screamed.
When you went to sleep that night, I fell to my knees in front of that green hospital recliner, cried, asked forgiveness from God for all my anger and frustration I had been harboring toward him, my husband, and anyone else I may not know about because of the situation - I thanked God profusely for you - not just for you, but for your temperament, your love, your joy, your smile. I also thanked God for your sisters and continuing to take care of us by providing for us through people and prayer even when I didn't deserve it. I emptied my soul that night and haven't been the same about your illness since. It was freeing. It is not that life got easier after that night, it is that I realized God was giving me everything I needed to get through things one day at a time if I would just look toward Him and see His gifts - of people, prayers, jobs, food, sleep, tests, doctors, medical care, etc, Oh how I changed that night.
I know God is and will continue to use you in powerful ways, Tate.
I have grown so much in my walk with Christ because of your life here on Earth. I know that you will continue to touch the lives of those around you in powerful ways. I know what your name means (your real name, not your pseudonym), and I know that God is partial to you (like the man on the 700 Club prayer line told Sandy)!
I believe God will completely heal you - in the back of my mind I think this is the year - probably because that first allergist told us that most kids outgrow food allergies by age six - but even if this is not the year - I truly feel it is coming. We all know now we are not just dealing with food allergies where you are concerned - and it took another full year to get a diagnosis and I still remember receiving the phone call from the doctor with the news, but finally - a diagnosis!! This past year they did a clinical trial for a medicine to help kids like you. You got to be a part of the one here thanks again to a fabulous doctor - Dr. Mestre - so who knows, except God - what the future holds for you? But, Tate, if is anywhere near the impact you have had these past six years - WOW!! Go GOD!!
Happy, Happy, SIXTH Birthday my precious baby boy - you are a miracle from God and I treasure the days He continues to give us all with you!
This following list is not complete, but it is a start - hopefully through these past six years I have told you all "thank you" more than once. Without you, Tate would not be here still.
Thank you,
God, my dear, sweet husband, my two wonderful daughters, Dr. Mestre, Dr. Levine, Dr. Hale, Dr. Lytle, Dr. Larussa, Dr. Brasfield, Eagle's Landing church and all its members past, Colleen, Sandy, Dennis, Stephanie, Staci, my mom, dad, sisters, and brother, prayer warriors of Church of the Highlands, Kerry, Gavin, Annie, Lee Ann, my bosses at my former job, Tate's former daycare workers, Melissa, Wendy, and so very many others that I know I am probably leaving out and do not mean to. Thank you, all.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
The Birds and ... oh, who am I kidding? How babies are born
Well, being the great attentive mother that I am I took my kids for what has become our regular Friday afternoon visit to our local library this past Friday. My eldest always knows exactly what she wants - more books on the AR scale. (AR means "accelerated reader" and she and her sibs have to read books in their point range and then take computerized tests on them - they have a deadline and a certain number of books in each genre they have to read). So, she is always off searching those out. She has gotten older, smarter, but is still in alot of ways naive. Yes, we have had the "period" talk (especially since she is 11 - and she still blushes), and we have talked about how babies are made (but not too graphically), and how they are born.
Now my second child goes to the library to socialize, help the librarians, and color. She is nine and loving life. She has been told much of what her older sister knows, but not all - I haven't gone into as much detail - mainly because she hasn't asked. But, we have read the American Girl book all about girls - or whatever it is called - good, insightful book by the way.
Now my dear third child, being a boy and only five, I haven't really discussed anything except to answer questions he has pointedly asked. I do answer their questions honestly - that is one of the reasons my girls knew who Santa was at ages 6 and 5 - Tate hasn't asked, so I haven't volunteered. He HAS asked about babies. Not how they are made, but how the doctor gets them out of the mommies' tummy (only I didn't remember this, until this fateful trip).
So, at the library this past Friday I let him get a book about the human body. Cute little kid on the front with his ribs shown through an xray in multicolor. It got my attention and for sure got his. Nope - didn't read it, just glanced through it.
When you read it, it shows a fetus inside a womb and talks about the development of the baby and how the umbilical cord provides the food and oxygen the baby needs to survive while the baby is inside the mommy. The picture is extremely detailed and really cool I thought. Anyway, Boo is reading this to him in the back seat while we are driving an hour from my mom's house back to mine. All of a sudden Tate asks, "Momma, did the doctor have to cut you to get me out?" "No" I replied, "no cutting involved."
Tate: "Then how did I get out?"
Boo: (insert blush mentioned above) "Do we have to discuss this right now? You will learn about that later."
Me: "Well, Tate, when it is time the women's body..."(tate interrupts)
Tate: "Don't worry, I already know. {and very matter of factly proceeds forward with the following.} The doctors push on the mommy's tummy and the baby comes out the mommy's bottom."
And then there was silence for a few heartbeats in my car.
For me I was trying to formulate how to proceed and simultaneously wondering when we had previously had this discussion (because Boo is asking him, "where did you hear that?" Tate: "mom told me")
Boo on the other hand was trying to overcome her shock, maybe, or to figure out why her five year old brother knew more than her at that age - who knows.
So - I press on.
Me: "Tate, it is not exactly like that, but close. God gives only girls a special ability for their bodies to stretch when it is time for the baby to come out of their body."
Tate: "yeah, from their bottom"
Me: "riiiiight, but from a special spot only girls have - that is how God designed it."
Tate: "okay, what is it called? that place?"
Boo: "MOM - NO!!"(blush still going)
Me: "Boo, its okay. Tate, it is called a vagina and boys have outside privates called a penis"
Tate: "A what - a penis? And girls have what?"
Boo: "Mom?!"
Me:"A vagina - that is what girls have"
Tate: (bless his soul) "So where is mine?"
Boo: "OH MY GOSH, MOM!!! TATE! ONLY GIRLS HAVE THEM, NOT BOYS!!"
Me: "Boo, do not holler at him- Tate,she is right, only girls have vagina's, boys have penis' do you understand?"
Tate: "Yeah - I think so, Boo, finish the book, okay?"
And there it was the last of my children to have the knowledge that girls have vagina's and boys have penis' and where babies come from and how they get out.
I hope you all have as much fun as I have had with each individual child in the telling of the body parts and how they work and what can be touched and not touched and by whom. It has been very interesting. I am sure I will have to repeat alot as they get older - just to make sure most of the moral lessons have stuck. But really, if you think about it - explaining the "mechanics" of it all is really so much easier than capturing their hearts and making sure they understand why making babies is only for marriage and even sex is only for marriage and all that goes with it - and protecting their hearts, and respecting others. HAVE FUN!!
Now my second child goes to the library to socialize, help the librarians, and color. She is nine and loving life. She has been told much of what her older sister knows, but not all - I haven't gone into as much detail - mainly because she hasn't asked. But, we have read the American Girl book all about girls - or whatever it is called - good, insightful book by the way.
Now my dear third child, being a boy and only five, I haven't really discussed anything except to answer questions he has pointedly asked. I do answer their questions honestly - that is one of the reasons my girls knew who Santa was at ages 6 and 5 - Tate hasn't asked, so I haven't volunteered. He HAS asked about babies. Not how they are made, but how the doctor gets them out of the mommies' tummy (only I didn't remember this, until this fateful trip).
So, at the library this past Friday I let him get a book about the human body. Cute little kid on the front with his ribs shown through an xray in multicolor. It got my attention and for sure got his. Nope - didn't read it, just glanced through it.
When you read it, it shows a fetus inside a womb and talks about the development of the baby and how the umbilical cord provides the food and oxygen the baby needs to survive while the baby is inside the mommy. The picture is extremely detailed and really cool I thought. Anyway, Boo is reading this to him in the back seat while we are driving an hour from my mom's house back to mine. All of a sudden Tate asks, "Momma, did the doctor have to cut you to get me out?" "No" I replied, "no cutting involved."
Tate: "Then how did I get out?"
Boo: (insert blush mentioned above) "Do we have to discuss this right now? You will learn about that later."
Me: "Well, Tate, when it is time the women's body..."(tate interrupts)
Tate: "Don't worry, I already know. {and very matter of factly proceeds forward with the following.} The doctors push on the mommy's tummy and the baby comes out the mommy's bottom."
And then there was silence for a few heartbeats in my car.
For me I was trying to formulate how to proceed and simultaneously wondering when we had previously had this discussion (because Boo is asking him, "where did you hear that?" Tate: "mom told me")
Boo on the other hand was trying to overcome her shock, maybe, or to figure out why her five year old brother knew more than her at that age - who knows.
So - I press on.
Me: "Tate, it is not exactly like that, but close. God gives only girls a special ability for their bodies to stretch when it is time for the baby to come out of their body."
Tate: "yeah, from their bottom"
Me: "riiiiight, but from a special spot only girls have - that is how God designed it."
Tate: "okay, what is it called? that place?"
Boo: "MOM - NO!!"(blush still going)
Me: "Boo, its okay. Tate, it is called a vagina and boys have outside privates called a penis"
Tate: "A what - a penis? And girls have what?"
Boo: "Mom?!"
Me:"A vagina - that is what girls have"
Tate: (bless his soul) "So where is mine?"
Boo: "OH MY GOSH, MOM!!! TATE! ONLY GIRLS HAVE THEM, NOT BOYS!!"
Me: "Boo, do not holler at him- Tate,she is right, only girls have vagina's, boys have penis' do you understand?"
Tate: "Yeah - I think so, Boo, finish the book, okay?"
And there it was the last of my children to have the knowledge that girls have vagina's and boys have penis' and where babies come from and how they get out.
I hope you all have as much fun as I have had with each individual child in the telling of the body parts and how they work and what can be touched and not touched and by whom. It has been very interesting. I am sure I will have to repeat alot as they get older - just to make sure most of the moral lessons have stuck. But really, if you think about it - explaining the "mechanics" of it all is really so much easier than capturing their hearts and making sure they understand why making babies is only for marriage and even sex is only for marriage and all that goes with it - and protecting their hearts, and respecting others. HAVE FUN!!
Friday, February 13, 2009
The Adventures of George
As I sit here about to write this I wonder if he planned it. Was he waiting, planning, building up? Was he fattening up knowing he would have to survive on no food for who knew how long? How does his mind work?
This morning I woke my kids up like normal. They all did great - got up easily - mainly because they are all looking forward to their valentine parties at school (do you remember those days?). Anyway, I get them going and then hop in the shower. Next thing I hear is a knock on the door - my eldest coming to tell me the newest member - the baby of our family - George- is missing. Missing? How can he be missing, I ask? How can he get out? He was there last night - your dad was the one that fed him and checked on him - Yep, gone. The search began. We are looking for a needle in a haystack. One frog the size of my big toe in a house the size of ours - it's not huge, but it has many pitfalls for a small frog. So, we began in the kids rooms - keep in mind, he had to make it out of the water, through a small hole, off the dresser almost five feet up, and then off into whatever adventure he was seeking. We moved boxes, pillows, covers, jewelry, shoes, dolls, dressers, looked in the kitchen - down the hall, bathroom, my bedroom - but really didn't think he made it out of the girls' room.
I called my husband at work. I had to ask the worst question as I looked at our dog - Could he (my dog) have eaten George? My husband didn't think so, but then the dog has been known to eat cat poop so who knows. My husband, like me, didn't think there was a real chance George had made it out of the girls' room- so we decided to shut the door til that afternoon - we knew he was probably already dried up - it had been 8 hours since he was last seen after all and he requires water. Well, Little Man took this like we had shut the lid on the coffin. It was not a good scene. But we had been searching 30 min - four people - no George. So, we ate breakfast, finished getting dressed, and I prayed. I pleaded with God - "Please let us find George - preferably alive, but if he is dead, please still let him be found." I turn around and there he is. ALIVE!! Coming out from under my husband's dresser! Again - God was waiting on me. When will I ask? When will I depend on him for EVERYTHING? Even the George moments in my life. (Just like those South Beach moments in my life.)
It took teamwork, but my brave children were able to corral him and I held the container while they put him back in - I placed pantyhose over the top until we can fix him up a better aquarium this weekend. We will never know what all George experienced or encountered - or even if he is happy to be back in his habitat, but I know that George is a reminder that God is listening - to the tears of children, the cries of parents' hearts, and the purity of the request.
Thank you again, God.
This morning I woke my kids up like normal. They all did great - got up easily - mainly because they are all looking forward to their valentine parties at school (do you remember those days?). Anyway, I get them going and then hop in the shower. Next thing I hear is a knock on the door - my eldest coming to tell me the newest member - the baby of our family - George- is missing. Missing? How can he be missing, I ask? How can he get out? He was there last night - your dad was the one that fed him and checked on him - Yep, gone. The search began. We are looking for a needle in a haystack. One frog the size of my big toe in a house the size of ours - it's not huge, but it has many pitfalls for a small frog. So, we began in the kids rooms - keep in mind, he had to make it out of the water, through a small hole, off the dresser almost five feet up, and then off into whatever adventure he was seeking. We moved boxes, pillows, covers, jewelry, shoes, dolls, dressers, looked in the kitchen - down the hall, bathroom, my bedroom - but really didn't think he made it out of the girls' room.
I called my husband at work. I had to ask the worst question as I looked at our dog - Could he (my dog) have eaten George? My husband didn't think so, but then the dog has been known to eat cat poop so who knows. My husband, like me, didn't think there was a real chance George had made it out of the girls' room- so we decided to shut the door til that afternoon - we knew he was probably already dried up - it had been 8 hours since he was last seen after all and he requires water. Well, Little Man took this like we had shut the lid on the coffin. It was not a good scene. But we had been searching 30 min - four people - no George. So, we ate breakfast, finished getting dressed, and I prayed. I pleaded with God - "Please let us find George - preferably alive, but if he is dead, please still let him be found." I turn around and there he is. ALIVE!! Coming out from under my husband's dresser! Again - God was waiting on me. When will I ask? When will I depend on him for EVERYTHING? Even the George moments in my life. (Just like those South Beach moments in my life.)
It took teamwork, but my brave children were able to corral him and I held the container while they put him back in - I placed pantyhose over the top until we can fix him up a better aquarium this weekend. We will never know what all George experienced or encountered - or even if he is happy to be back in his habitat, but I know that George is a reminder that God is listening - to the tears of children, the cries of parents' hearts, and the purity of the request.
Thank you again, God.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
My Husband
I don't say enough about my wonderful husband. I want to now.
My husband is someone I very much look up to, that I am proud to say is mine - the spiritual leader in our home and such a sweet love to me. He would probably hate being described that way but it is true. He is not only those things but he is also a man- He works hard, protects his family at any cost, and always puts us first after God. I sometimes think he is too harsh, but that is the complement of a man and a woman. God made the man to be firm and tough and the woman to be soft and nurturing. Why do I try and get in the way of that? I love that my husband will not only fix whatever is broken around our house, but also willingly do the laundry. That is true love. When I am feeling less than perfect, he reminds me I am perfection to him. I roll my eyes on the outside, but inside my heart squeezes in thankfulness to God for giving me such a wonderful, perfect, complement to me and my personality.
He would be the second to tell you (I would be the first) that our relationship/marriage has not been a bed of lovely roses, but trials, tribulations, hard times, and much love. WOW! God has grown us so much and kept us together through so much. In doing so He has strengthened us individually and as a couple in our relationship with Him and each other.
So, just to let you know - my husband is perfection to me and I love him.
My husband is someone I very much look up to, that I am proud to say is mine - the spiritual leader in our home and such a sweet love to me. He would probably hate being described that way but it is true. He is not only those things but he is also a man- He works hard, protects his family at any cost, and always puts us first after God. I sometimes think he is too harsh, but that is the complement of a man and a woman. God made the man to be firm and tough and the woman to be soft and nurturing. Why do I try and get in the way of that? I love that my husband will not only fix whatever is broken around our house, but also willingly do the laundry. That is true love. When I am feeling less than perfect, he reminds me I am perfection to him. I roll my eyes on the outside, but inside my heart squeezes in thankfulness to God for giving me such a wonderful, perfect, complement to me and my personality.
He would be the second to tell you (I would be the first) that our relationship/marriage has not been a bed of lovely roses, but trials, tribulations, hard times, and much love. WOW! God has grown us so much and kept us together through so much. In doing so He has strengthened us individually and as a couple in our relationship with Him and each other.
So, just to let you know - my husband is perfection to me and I love him.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)