Hey folks! Life has been rather busy the past few weeks. There are BIG HAPPY EXCITING things I’m dying to tell you all about, but I have to follow protocols and wait just a bit longer. There are also several SERIOUS CHALLENGING WEIGHTY subjects rolling around in my upstairs brain, but I currently have limited time and want to write about something fluffy. So I’m going to steal.
I recently finished Jen Hatmaker’s latest book, For the Love, and perhaps I will share a full review later. But for now, I’d like to say it made me laugh out loud, and who doesn’t need that? I particularly appreciated the book’s several chapters of thank-you notes–Jimmy Fallon style. And since she clearly admits that imitation is the greatest form of flattery, here’s my own little tribute to Jen and Jimmy.
Thank you, Axe-body spray, the sacred anointing oil for every teenage boy (and girl) who joins this family. You are the air we breathe. (Really. You have consumed all oxygen in this home in some odoriferous reaction.) Now I know the scents of Dark Temptation, Anarchy, Phoenix, and Apollo, and I find them all strangely representative of Irish Spring…if the soap were to enter into a loveless marriage with Seabreeze. You creep through the house, adhering to every surface, impairing my ability to breathe and my will to live, but hey, based on the look of the Diaper Genie, you may the lesser of two evils. Love, Mom’s Nose.
Thank you, my son who insists on sleeping with our pets. I love discovering that the cat has been trapped in your room for 24-hours after your departure to college. After all, accessible litter boxes are for privileged felines, and we don’t coddle pretentious aristocats around here. P.S. The corner of your room could use some Axe. Best wishes, Mom
Thank you, children who take my silverware to work and school and friends and outer space, never to return. I’m down to two-ish spoons, but hey, plastic really cuts down on washing time. You are so thoughtful. Love, Mom Who Better Start Finding More Finger-Food Recipes.
Thank you, baby poop. You keep life real and give meso many opportunities to practice humility. My kid is in an “I only want to eat blueberries and fiber-loaded pea crisps” stage, so we are frequent visitors. Before my first cup of coffee. Two bites into dinner. On the way out the door when I’m already late. I get it. You are the boss. And when my 25-lb child is thrashing like a rabid anaconda, you are so generous with your lessons, literally just reaching out and touching everyone. Thanks for the stellar example. And no, that is not chocolate on my face.
Thank you, Lifeproof phone case. Turns out, your definition of “life” did not include my teething 14-month-old, but we appreciate the opportunity to provide the exception that proves the rule. Oh, and we humbly suggest you call Sophie the Giraffe for some survival tips.
Thank you mom, for keeping every single scrap of paper I touched during my entire childhood. Sorting through those boxes was wicked fun, especially when I found all those dazzling pictures of myself from the seventh grade. I mean, everyone wants to re-live middle school, right? Stay Cool, Crazy-Haired Camille.
Thank you, pistachios, for leading me to a self-diagnosis of misophonia. After the children are tucked in bed and the house is quiet for the first time all blessed day, my beloved husband pours your delectable offerings into a bowl and proceeds to chomp away. Right. next. to. me. And while the skittering-crunchy-snap-smack may not register to some, it sounds to me like an orchestra from the bowels of snacking hell. Also, I have retrieved no less than a dozen of your discarded shells from the depths of my baby’s chipmunk-like cheeks, but what fabulous motivation to never put down the vacuum! Sincerely, Wife Wearing Headphones.
Thank you, size 2 people in my home that bake homemade chocolate chip cookies and bring home barely touched cheesecakes. I pity you and your tiny, baby metabolisms that burn 1,000 calories as you put on your Sephora mascara to head to the gym. My wiser, seasoned metabolism says “Pass me the yoga pants and another slice of cake!” And no, I did not eat the last cookie. With Affection, Mom Who Sometimes Lies About Cookies.
Okay folks, that’s it for now, but I’d love to see your thank-yous in the comments. Love to all!
Earlier this month, international hottie soccer star David Beckham found himself the target of on-line parenting “experts” scolding him for allowing his four-year-old to use a pacifier. Oh. the. horror. They launched into a vitriolic tirade of concern regarding the blessed child’s dental health, speech acquisition, psychological well-being, and overall chances of survival. Because….a pacifier.
First, why is this news?
But second, kudos to Beckham for calling out the haters. He responded,
Why do people feel they have the right to criticize a parent about their own children without having any facts ?? Everybody who has children knows that when they aren’t feeling well or have a fever you do what comforts them best and most of the time it’s a pacifier so those who criticize think twice about what you say about other people’s children because actually you have no right to criticize me as a parent …
Exactly. Maybe Harper was sick. Maybe she was just having a moody day and two minutes of pacifier time helps her regulate. Maybe she was play-acting and mimicking a baby. Maybe….it’s not our business.
So many people are always in judgment mode, but seldom do they possess the facts.
Consider these scenarios:
A five-year-old begins to throw an Exorcist-style tantrum in the middle of the mall. His mom responds by handing him a pair of headphones and allows him to use her skirt to hide his head.
A seven-year-old refuses to shower or bathe regularly. Even though he quite often smells, his parents choose not to make an issue of his hygiene.
A family with half a dozen children of all ages allows snacking between meals. Children are never told to “wait until dinner is ready” but are allowed to choose between various fruits, granola bars, or other snacks when they are hungry.
A couple sleeps each night with their eight-year-old nestled between them. Every night, he wants to be rocked like an infant. Sometimes, he wants to be spoon-fed, and they oblige.
A 16-year-old is allowed to sit in the lobby and read a book or play on her phone during church services. She’s not required to attend her little brother’s soccer games or her sister’s piano recital.
If you’re completely honest, how many of these situations would invite judgment?
Tantrums?! That child is obviously spoiled or she’s a poor disciplinarian. The unwashed kid? His parents must be neglectful. Allowing between-meal snacking is too permissive and promotes poor eating habits. And on and on and ON.
But here’s the thing: we don’t know the facts. We don’t see the sensory processing disorder that can turn mall crowds and loud music into elements of torture. We don’t see the years where there was no food and feel the panic even a moment of hunger can bring raging to the surface. We don’t understand that the older child may need to re-live missed moments of childhood to form healthy bonds. We don’t know how a religious service or a seemingly innocuous school event could trigger a visceral response to past trauma. We don’t see, and so we make snap judgments.
Many of the decisions Charlie and I make as parents invite critique from others. We don’t spank. Mouthing-off is often met with a chance to re-do or a silly game to redirect an attitude. We allow one of our older kids to smoke. We don’t pick fights over tattoos or body piercings. We don’t force our younger kids to hug or kiss Aunt So-and-So, and it’s okay if they’re not in the mood to be constantly adorable.
And oh boy, do we get the judgment sometimes.
Recently, one of the most frequent criticisms from someone was that Micah is spoiled and too attached. And of course, this provides a little chuckle, because if you know anything about the adoption world, you know there is no such thing as too attached. So thanks for the compliment! Also, in case you’re not aware, research reflects that securely attached children experience a host of benefits including protection from toxic stress, greater intelligence, and earlier independence.
So again, in case you missed it, attachment is not an insult.
Many parents, especially adoptive ones, read endless books, go to conferences, and buy ridiculously expensive baby carriers–all in the name of fostering healthy attachment. Parents determinedly forfeit sleep for months, tucking newly adopted (tossing, turning, bed-wetting) toddlers between them. Mamas learn to do laundry, cook, and continue parenting other children while a 40-pound child clings to a hip. With adopted infants, we are fully aware that tiny babies can also experience tremendous loss and grief, and we nestle their perfect, fragile bodies on our bear skin, sharing our warmth and smell and heartbeat….whispering our message that they are safe and the world can be trusted.
Micah is definitely experiencing some clingy moments lately. Often, if I’m anywhere in the room, she screams like a mandrake (Google it if you’re not cool enough to be a Harry Potter fan) should anyone else try to hold her except me. Other times, at playgrounds, the children’s museum and other loud, crowded places where one would expect a child to be overwhelmed, she runs full-speed away from me, cackling maniacally. She has spent entire days at Kids’ Day Out without a hiccup, and other days, she can’t make it through an hour in the church nursery without a massive breakdown.
And I suspect all these inconsistencies in behavior are a direct reflection of the fact…..she’s ONE. Her mood fluctuates rapidly and dramatically depending on a million factors as she tries to figure out the world. Did she miss her nap? Stay in the pool too long? Has it been 30 whole minutes since she ate something? Because all these things will result in a completely different kid.
From 8 to 14 months, children often become frightened when they meet new people or visit new places. They recognize their parents as familiar and safe. When separated from their parents, particularly when away from home, they feel threatened and unsafe.
Separation anxiety is a normal developmental stage. It helped keep our ancestors alive and helps children learn how to master their environment.
It usually ends when the child is around 2 years old. At this age, toddlers begin to understand that parents may be out of sight now, but will return later. There is also a normal desire to test their independence.
So there, haters. Of course she seeks me out when confronted with new faces and strange places. Of course she wants mama when she’s tired, hungry, uncomfortable, or uncertain. Completely. age. appropriate. And in NO way in need of your judgment.
Admittedly, it’s beyond fabulous to have a break, (if you’ve heard her scream, you are nodding your head in sympathy for my ear drums about now) and if she’ll go to someone else, awesome. We provide lots of opportunities for her to practice independence and learn that grown-ups come back. However, if I’m in the room with her, and she wants me, I’m not forcing her to go to you if I can help it. That’s just not how we roll.
So if you want to call her spoiled because she likes her mama, be my guest. If we’re talking about love and attention as currency, then I pray for the strength and resources to spoil each of my children better each day.
In the adoption world, most of us rightly shun the “savior” label. We began this journey because we wanted a family….ummm, you just keep that halo, thanks. Our children joined our families via a different path, but we’re no more saviors than you biologically multiplying folks.
Of course, some begin stepping willingly and knowingly a bit further into risk with each child. We open parameters, check more boxes, and say yes to more. Then, adoption slowly becomes more than a way to build a family. It becomes a commune with God…one of a thousand ways to answer His call to love. It becomes a manifestation of our faith.
Yet, even for those of us who bring home the older kids, the medically-fragile kids, the special needs kids… we are still not saviors, and we never can be. There is only one Savior, after all, and we are daily thrown to our knees–broken, frustrated, and exhausted before Him– knowing just how ridiculous a notion it is that we could possibly redeem these lives entrusted to our care.
But we’d be lying to say we never want to save our kids….to protect, to guide, to prevent heartache. All mothers long to save their children. We spend our lives doing cartwheels to shield them from skinned knees, stomach bugs, and mean girls (those little “witches” are everywhere, y’all), and then we fret endlessly over some Google parenting article assured we’re shielding them too much.
I think for those of us parenting kids from hard places, it’s an even more poignant desire. We want to save them from the questions, stares, heartache, and loss. We ache to travel back in time, sword in hand, and butcher the horrors keeping them awake at night. We want to save them from current mistakes, future consequences, and all the mess in between.
And selfishly, perhaps most of all, we want to save ourselves. Parenting children from hard places, our entire lives are irrevocably altered. It’s all on the chopping block. It’s easy to find ourselves struggling to save so many things. Our marriages. Our other kids. Our sanity. Ourselves. We pray for shore as our little lifeboats are ripped to pieces by the endless sea of grief, trauma, and survival behaviors.
Thus, the constant challenge is releasing the desire to save….accepting that we can save nothing or no one and letting go of guilt for all things related to our kids. The Great Deliverer provides the saving grace for each moment, and it is sufficient to rescue our children and us.
Of course, all of this is much more easily recorded in a blog post than practiced in my actual life. Over the past few years, we’ve cringed and often cried as each of our older children has made decisions with less than favorable consequences.
We’ve seen all the things: lying, stealing, addiction, depression, poor financial decisions, panic attacks, negative peer choices…. all. the. things.
One made some decisions that made it impossible to continue living at home, and so that child experienced homelessness off and on throughout the past year.
It’s so strange to type those words. No one plans to have homeless children, and we continue to struggle with how to help. Where is the line between enabling and supporting? What do we do next?
Often, we don’t know, and we stumble forward, learning along the way and grabbing the lifelines thrown by those in our community. With each rope, we weave a tribe and remind one another to keep breathing. We escape to drink too much coffee and hear about another kid’s four-hour rages or rehab or property destruction, and breathing is easier, because somebody knows our normal. In the heated moments, we send out social media distress flares to our wi-fi warriors, and responses pour in with names, numbers, books, strategies, and affirming words.
Personally, I find freedom in the reminder that while I do my best, I cannot save. I’m not supposed to. I am supposed to remember that Jesus holds the stories of each of my children, and He is a master of redemption. It’s kind of His thing.
Near the end of June, a young woman found her way to our family through a mutual friend on Facebook. Jenessa will begin discipleship training with Downline Institute this fall, and she needed an economical place to stay. We had an empty room, and so we agreed to trade rent for occasional babysitting. She’s a dream roommate, and having an extra adult in the house has been a lovely blessing. Can you grab a gallon of milk on the way home? Yes. Feed the goats while we go to Canada for a week? Sure. Keep these tiny people alive a few hours while I run to Target….all by MYSELF?! Of course.
Two weeks ago, Jenessa attended a concert at the Levitt Shell here in Memphis. She walked back toward her vehicle with friends, and they parted ways. She was sitting in her car checking messages on her phone when an armed man entered the vehicle. He forced her into her trunk at gunpoint. Thankfully, she found a lever inside the trunk and was able to open it. When the car slowed to make a turn, she jumped out. One of the two men in her car also jumped out and pointed the gun at her, but she convinced him to leave with her wallet, phone, and car. She then ran to a friend’s house and called police.
To call this experience horrific is an understatement, and we are so incredibly grateful that Jenessa is safe. We know these atrocities happen, but when they happen close to home, we are forced to uncomfortably consider the fragility of our own lives.
Few of us have personally known such fear, but I doubt many of us would have blamed Jenessa for any number of human responses in the aftermath of her ordeal. Anger. Hatred. A desire for retribution. A sailor-like cursing of Memphis and a plan to permanently get the heck out of Dodge.
Instead, my sweet friend wrote the following on her Facebook page:
Dear friends, Before anything spreads on the news I just want to speak my unaltered piece. Last night I was involved in an armed robbery and attempted kidnapping here in Memphis in Midtown. I currently have no phone, car, or wallet- they took it all. But I am safe and incredibly in awe of God’s grace.
I was forced into my own trunk but within minutes found a lever on the roof of my trunk and was able to escape unharmed. Police have not found my car or the guys yet but are looking and being very supportive.
I still love Memphis and its people and am mostly just sad. If anything, please join me in prayer for the two young guys on the loose- pray that somehow they would find God’s grace and this would help to turn their lives around. Pray for many, many others who might be in similar situations- that they would find the help, support, and love of Christ long before their life reaches this point. Pray for all of Memphis- that people from all neighborhoods and backgrounds would be able to live in safety and harmony.
Also, on a practical level- please lock your car the moment you get in it- no matter what neighborhood you live in. And just walk to your car with someone, especially at night. If you know me, I err on the side of trusting others, but I promise I (and you!) will be more cautious. However, I’m not going to live in fear and neither should you. I am eternally safe in God’s hands and that will NEVER be stolen, no matter what happens in this life. Isaiah 41:13
I was so inspired by Jenessa’s astounding grace in this situation, and I thank her for allowing me to share her words here.
Those of us that call Memphis home….we know our city is far from perfect. Since this incident, a police officer has been shot and killed, and authorities arrested a former student of mine on first-degree murder charges. We know the dangers. We know there is crime, poverty, violence, corruption, and a host of seemingly endless challenges. But we also know there is beauty. There is so much worth fighting for, and those battles will be won through coming together in love and not building walls in fear. But refusing to fear? That takes some serious mettle. So thanks again Jenessa, for sharing some of your valiant, Shera-like moxie. And if you’re reading this post, I ask you to echo Jenessa’s words and pray for our city and its people. Pray for safety, harmony, abounding grace and abiding courage.
And for some good news about the city or ideas on how to be an agent of positive change, check out Choose 901.
A year ago long, long time ago, in a galaxy one zip code over far, far away, there was a girl semi-regularly sending her thoughts out into the universe, occasionally raising her nouns and verbs against the dark forces of evil….but mostly documenting the misadventures of her ridiculously adorable kids.
Then life, as its prone to do, changed trajectory, and the girl found herself fully occupied navigating through the meteor showers of a new baby and changing family needs. All energies required for hyper-survival-drive, she took her potential blog thoughts and shoved them into the carbonite-frozen corner of her brain.
But today, she returns…..<cue impressive theme hopefully penned by John Williams>
Hello dear readers! It has been too long. Except for a few brief adoption fund-raising posts, I haven’t visited this blog since April 2014, and the longer I’ve stayed away, the more awkward and intimidating I’ve found the return journey.
Life has been so full, so rich over the past year, but it’s also been painfully heart-rending in ways I wasn’t brave enough or talented enough to share in words. Silence seemed easier and more honest.
But I need this outlet. This thing that is mine alone. This intentional time to reflect and attempt to order the scattered parts of life into a meaningful narrative. So here is my toe for you, dipping tentatively back into the water and attempting a return to the words.
To begin, I thought I’d share with you some of the posts I might have written over the past year if I’d kept blogging.
Welcome Baby Micah!
Sleep Deprivation Comes in Deceptively Precious Packages
Paper, Rock, Scissors and a Dozen Other Creative Ways to Delay Facing the Poop
Get Your Kids a Kid! Promoting Unity Through Bovidae Bonding
Goats in Pajamas: Facing Relentless Peer Pressure to Clothe Your Livestock
Farm-life Parenting: Swollen Teats and 101 Other Fun Conversations to Have With Your Toddler
Official Adoptions #3 and #4
Can We Just Have Our Own Room Now, Please?
A Frozen Birthday
How We Let It Go
Dear Disney, I Love You
Indulging Your Inner Child While Making Your Kids Think This Vacation is Actually About Them
Move Over Kiddos; Mama Wants Her Wand
The #Adopt2GetHer Fundraising Yard Sale
The Worst Sunburn I’ve Ever Had in My Life
Junk PTSD: Is That What I Think It Is?!?
The One in Which Charlie May Have Considered Divorce
Feeling All the Feels: Gratitude, Exhaustion, Frustration, Exhilaration. ALL the Feels.
Imagine yourself snuggled under this stunning quilt…perhaps in a hammock rocked gently by the breeze….a good book in one hand and a glass of lemonade in the other as you welcome the approaching spring.
Feels good, doesn’t it?
For only $25, you can be one of the few who gets a chance to bring home this gorgeous work of art.
BEST OF ALL, your money will go directly to support bringing home a precious girl from Central America to her forever family in Memphis, TN.
As you may already be aware, I’m attempting to help raise funds for my sweet friend, Kellie Maske.
She adopted her 10-year-old daughter, Ana, from Guatemala in 2005, and after years of waiting to grow her family, she was unexpectedly matched with a 9-year-old daughter. Kellie is a single mom, and with the rapid nature of this special-needs adoption opportunity, she needs you, the body of Christ, to rally around her financially. Kellie has made one of the three required trips to her daughter’s country, but she needs help raising funds to cover the remaining travel and adoption expenses.
Thus, we are currently hosting an Easter basket fundraiser to
BRING ANA’S SISTER HOME!!!
For every $5 donated, your name is written on an Easter egg and placed into a basket. On Saturday, April 4, Ana will draw a name, and that person will receive a $100 Amazon giftcard.
Win the Quilt!
But NOW, for every $25 you donate, you will ALSO be entered in a chance to win this beautiful quilt, hand-crafted by the talented and creative Janet Middlekauf of Simply Pieced. Check out her blog to see more of her fabulous creations.
Janet says this quilt is a collection of celebrations all sewn together. Each piece of fabric was originally chosen for a quilt given to celebrate a newborn, an adoption, a marriage, or a graduation. As quilts are completed, the remnants are collected and stored for future projects, Over time, these remnants become part of a new story. Our prayer is that this story is one of hope. A story of a new family being created.
The quilt, in a flying geese pattern, was pieced and quilted on a domestic machine and the binding finished by hand. The finished quilt measures 68 x 60 inches, and would make a perfectly unique Easter, Mother’s Day, birthday, or baby gift.
Oh, and Janet also happens to be my best friend, so I can personally attest to the elaborate and intricate detail and generous love she pours into every stitch. (And hey, unless you become her BFF and get married or birth or adopt a child, you are probably not getting one of these quilts anytime soon. This is the easier path, folks. May the odds be ever in your favor!)
And for those of you who have already stepped up with generous donations, don’t worry! We’ll make sure to add your names to the quilt drawing the appropriate number of times.
How to Give
There are two options for giving. Click this button:
Or visit Kellie’s You Caring page and use your credit card to donate there.
Of course, if you’re feeling exceedingly generous (or just really have a thing for quilts), please feel free to contact me at email@example.com for details on how to make a larger, tax-deductible donation.
Every tiny bit helps to bring Ana’s sister home. Every donation stretches one more mile on the journey to make this family. We pray Easter blessings on you as your family enters this special season, and we offer our most sincere thanks for taking the time to support Kellie and Ana.
It is my pleasure to introduce you to Kellie Maske and her 10-year-old daughter, Ana.
I met Kellie through a local adoption support group, and she has become a dear friend. Kellie, a single mom, adopted Ana from Guatemala in 2005. With a desire to build her family, she started the process to bring home another child from Central America a few years later. However, due to endless delays and disappointments beyond her control, the process slowed to a painful crawl. She’d almost given up hope. But then, late last year, a call came, and her agency offered Kellie the opportunity to adopt a 9-year-old girl.
She and Ana are THRILLED to bring home another member to their family, but this special needs adoption opportunity was an unexpected blessing. Kellie has made one of the three required trips to her daughter’s home country, but she needs help to raise $12,000 to cover the remaining travel and adoption expenses. This is where WE NEED YOU!
Please help us to FILL ANA’S EASTER BASKET to bring her sister home!
For every $5 donated, we’ll put your name on an Easter egg.
The day before Easter, Ana will draw a name, and if you win, we’ll send you a $100 Amazon gift card. That’s a LOT of Cadbury bunnies folks. Peeps galore!
But best of all, with every donation, you’re helping to make possible a new future for a little girl who has waited her entire life for a forever family.
There are several easy options for giving. If you have a PayPal account, just click the link below.
You can also go to Kellie’s You Caring page and donate using your credit card.
Or, if you’re feeling uniquely generous and want to make a more sizable, tax-deductible donation, please contact me at firstname.lastname@example.org for details.
We pray hope, joy, peace, and all the blessings of the Easter season surround your family, and we thank you for your gifts!
So last year, I wrote you this lengthy post full of sappy love and discussed in detail how you’re just really an overachiever on this whole growing up thing. I must report that this year has seen no improvement. You seem bound and determined to skip from 3 to 30 at light speed, and we’re just trying to keep up. So here’s a peek into your interpretation of THREE:
Weight: 32 lbs (A gain of 4 lbs)
Height: 38 inches (A gain of 4 inches)
Your growth seems to be leveling off a bit, but you are still one of the tallest among your peers. Dr. Benaim reports that despite your slight weight gain, you are on a normal growth curve. She also remarked on your obvious intelligence, which I’m sure she does not say to all the parents.
You have grown exponentially in this area, and as an educator and language lover, watching your development here has been one of my greatest joys as a parent. Seemingly overnight, you moved from naming objects with one word and a pointing, chubby finger to your current lexicon. Thus, I present a little peak into a day spent chatting with you.
“Mama! I up. I wanna watch Daniel Tiguh. I wan cottage cheese! Big cottage cheese. Blow my nose mama. Hehp me peese! I needta go pee pee. Come wid me! I wan waater. I want my COTTAGE CHEESE! It’s YUMMY in my tummy! Just a minute? Okay! I needa napkin! Gimme a napkin! ……I sorree. Peese gimme a napkin. And I want some, I want some, some ceeeweal. And yogut. And cheese! I want BIG cheese! “
“Mama! I wanna go to the chiwen’s moosem. We go the chiwen’s moosem? We go the zoo? I wanna go to the zoo and see the aminals! The bears not seeping. The ewephants not seeping! Let’s go the zoo! Mama! I wanna go somewhere NOW. We see my fwens? I see Natawie and Bwandon? Noah? Baby Hannah? Sam? I wanna, I wanna, I wanna go play at the pahk and go down the swide weel fast! I wanna see Nana. I go to the camp and see the woostuh? Where Daddy? Daddy not here? Daddy at work? I wanna wide the twactor with Daddy! I wide it all day!”
I don’t wanna do my hair. No, no, NO! I get candy you do my hair? I wanna sucker. A big sucker. So pwetty! I so pwetty Mama!”
“I wanna wear my jammies. Okay! I wear my pwincess dwess. Not those shoes!
“Mama! Shhhh! Baby (doll) is seeping. That not your room. Baby SEEPING in there! Turn the light off! Shhhhh. I put baby to bed.”
“Chapsdick! Where is my chapsdick? I can’t find my chapsdick. Wipstick? I want your wipstick.” (In a pinch, you’ll settle for mascara, paint, ointment, or anything else that can be smeared on your face.)
“Mama! The doctor is IN! You sick. Lay down now. You reawy sick. I make you awww better!”
“Mama! I no take a nap! No west! I not sweepy! NO!!!”
“Mama! I hehp you cook dinner! I hehp. I stir da food, and I taste. Just a wiiiiddle bite, okay? It’s okay Mama, I just take a widdle bite. Just one, three bites….all done!”
“Mama! Sit by me! You my fwen. You my best fwen. I wuv you THIIIIIS MUCH! I wuv you to the sky.”
Yes, pretty much all your words start with a loud and abrupt noun of address to ensure you’ve got my complete attention, and much of the day is filled with commands and endless requests. However, you’re already a champion at knowing which words melt mama’s heart, and in my mind, one widdle “I wuv you” rivals the most intricately crafted love poems ever written.
Television/Movies: Daniel Tiger, Doc McStuffins, Thomas the Train, and Frozen (Obviously.)
Songs (favorites as in, you know all the words and sing them all day long. Loudly): “Let It Go”, from Frozen, which I hear no less than a dozen times a day. Bringing Home a Baby Bumblebee, Old McDonald, ABCs, the Barney song, and most other traditional toddler selections.
Of course, you spend a lot of time listening to music with your older sister, who was kind enough to create an “Ellie-approved” playlist on her phone. And honestly, Mama can only take so much of Old McDonald. Thus, you’re also well-versed in P!nk, Fun, Katy Perry, and Taylor Swift among others. Listening to you belt “Truhble, truhble, truhble…” from the backseat is kinda hilarious.
Toys: You’re still really into baby dolls, and as I noted above, you have no issues with kicking me out of my bedroom because your babies are napping in my bed. You’ve also added dress-up clothes/shoes/jewelry, play-doh, and a variety of riding toys to your favorites this year. Of course, being outside trumps all else, and you especially love your new playhouse.
Technology: Ah, my little narcissist. You like nothing more than scrolling through videos and pictures of yourself, over and over and over. You also have regular conversations with Talking Carl on the iPad; it’s just precious when you provide that high-pitched scream for him to repeat. You also have started showing a lot of interest in the Interactive Alphabet and Park Math.
Foods: In case you missed it, cottage cheese! Also, spinach, carrots, kale, squash—wait, what? Sorry. I started fantasizing again. Really, it’s ice cream, suckers, cupcakes, chips, cookies, noodles, chicken tenders, hot wings, and Ketchup. So yeah, you’re a typical American kid there. Of course, we try to limit these things and push the fruits and veggies, but you are becoming more and more talented at picking out the tiniest particles containing actual nutritional value and replacing them with ketchup. Or a request for more cheese. Mama is having to get really creative and approach dinner in a super-stealth mode. <Cue Mission Impossible theme here.>
Chapstick: In the past few months, we have purchased enough Chapstick to ensure smooth lips for the entire population of Iceland in winter. There are empty Chapstick tubes wedged your carseat, behind the crib, under the couch, in random drawers…everywhere. Night or day, there’s rarely a moment where your fist isn’t closed around a tube, and you reapply liberally. We took away your pacifier last year, and you promptly replaced it. You showed us. I actually asked the doctor if you’d get sick from ingesting so much of the cherry-flavored wax, but she assures me you’ll grow out of it. As it’s not really hurting anything, we’ve decided to let you keep the lip balm for now as it seems to help you calm down in times of stress. In the meantime, you give extremely moisturized kisses.
The Cat: For Christmas, your big sister got a cat, Bipsy. You spend much of your day LOVING the cat. You show your unparalleled adoration by hauling the cat around like a rag doll, putting her in your baby stroller, wrestling her, checking her teeth, chasing her, dragging her from under furniture by a paw or tail, and throwing her in the toilet. As you might imagine, she completely adores you. Or something like that. In any case, Mama is extremely grateful for the cat, for as any other self-respecting member of the feline community likely would have rearranged your face by now, Bipsy meets you with stolid resignation rather than gnashing (or sinking) of teeth.
And really, you don’t discriminate. You adore all cats equally.
Changing clothes:Too much! Enough with the fifteen daily wardrobe changes. Every time I turn around, you have stripped off one outfit in exchange for another, leaving your room in a clothing-covered state of disaster. It’s as though you’ve decided not to hurt the feelings of any of your clothes by making sure to wear ALL of them for at least five minutes a day. Your favorites remain a purple princess dress, and of course, pajamas.
Painting your nails and putting on makeup.
Free hair: You used to let me experiment with your hair, and we did things like this:
Then one day (about the time you started singing “Let It Go”…hmmm…) you decided that hair bows, clips, and rubber bands were like hot coals on your head and can no longer be tolerated. You actually scream, “I WANT my hair IN my face!”
And by God, hair with that much sheer awesomeness should be allowed freedom! Sadly, keeping those curls appropriately conditioned and combed was nearing the 45-minute mark, and since you allow me about 45 seconds to do your hair, we needed a solution.
Thus, I took you to get your hair cut.
Your hair is free, but also NOT in your face. (Mom for the win!)
Of course, you’re still a HUGE fan of
the Children’s Museum (which added a splash park this year)
And recently, you’ve added to your “coolest thing EVER” list:
Your new cousin, Baby Kinley:
Riding the tractor with your daddy: He hops on the tractor, and you literally bolt toward him. 20 degrees? No problem. Raining? Bring it on. You are a true farm girl, and rather than a white steed, your prince will no doubt need to show up on a bright orange Kubota. Maybe a John Deere.
Going Potty: Without a doubt, we are insanely blessed in this area. You are a potty champion. We tried just after you turned two, but after a little incident, we decided you were not quite ready. However, by late summer of last year, you were again showing interest. Honestly, I was hesitating a bit, but your Nana decided it was time, and you came home from a weekend visit from her house determined to use the potty. Unfortunately, we left on an 8-hour drive to the beach the next day, which complicated things a bit.
In any case, by the end of a week, you had it down. When you figured out that we’d give you cookies or jelly beans for going to the potty, you were sold. Since that initial week or two, you’ve had exactly one accident, and that was while sleeping. We kept you in pull-ups for a few weeks, but since you always woke up dry, we moved to panties by late August. Now, I never even remember to ask you if you need to go to the potty as you always tell me when you need to go.
Gymnastics: When I observed you flipping onto the couch like this,
I decided we’d better provide some structured focus for your talents. Thus, we enrolled you in classes at RiverCity Gymnastics. You are a natural! Completely fearless, you’re showing an impressive affinity for the balance beam and tumbling. And of course, you adore the “costume.”
Sure, you’ve had some challenges this year as well. You smacked your head into the dog’s porcelain bowl, resulting in a trip to the emergency room and your first stitches.
You’ve also decided that you’re too old for a regular nap, and it’s just precious. We remain in rather tense negotiations about this one.
As you get older, you also want more and more independence, which leaves your father and me struggling to keep you safe while allowing you to explore and learn. We want desperately to be the best parents we can possibly be to you, but no doubt, we make mistakes every day. We lose our patience. We grow weary. Sometimes, we choose easy fixes over the more time-consuming requirements of true connection. (This very morning, we may or may not have chunked an iPhone into your bed to buy 10 more minutes of sleep.)
But no matter our mistakes, we know that God is sovereign in your life and that He has amazing plans for you. We love you more than we knew it was possible to love, and we will continue to strive to learn and grow as your parents. Thank you for helping us notice the beauty in small things. Thank you for an excuse to sit and cuddle. Sweet girl, we’re in awe each day of how quickly you learn. We watch in wonder as your personality develops depth and intricacy. With pride, we watch you tackle life with determination, vigor, and laughter.
We LOVE you, and we can’t wait for every moment of the coming year with you.
– March 24:Christianity Today publishes an article detailing how World Vision’s American branch, one of the world’s largest Christian charities, will now allow for the hiring of gay Christians in legal same-sex marriages.
– World Vision U.S. President Richard Stearns explains the decision isn’t an endorsement of gay marriage or a renouncing of traditional marriage, but a recognition of the different beliefs and practices within the Christian community and an attempt at unity in serving the poor.
“In short, World Vision hopes to dodge the division currently “tearing churches apart” over same-sex relationships by solidifying its long-held philosophy as a parachurch organization: to defer to churches and denominations on theological issues, so that it can focus on uniting Christians around serving the poor.”
– March 24-25: Evangelical Christians unite in losing their collective shit and transform into menacing playground bullies reminiscent of this guy.
– Thousands of “Christians” cancel sponsorships to needy children in third-world countries, because apparently God is much more disturbed by a gay secretary working at World Vision than he is about starving, sick, or trafficked children.
– March 26: World Vision, pummeled into submission in the corner of the playground, revokes their decision, begs forgiveness, and promises to walk the evangelical party-line.
– LGBT folks and their supporters go punch pillows, pour glasses of wine, and cry out to God in frustration and sadness.
I have a whole mess of thoughts, so in no particular order, here ya go:
To LGBT folks:
I’m so sorry. When World Vision made the initial decision, I know many of you were encouraged. It seemed like a tiny but positive step in the right direction from the Christian culture that so often seems hell-bent on keeping you out. You got invited to the table, and then promptly had the door slammed in your face. Some of you, excited at the invitation, even put in applications to work. Now, you feel hurt and betrayed, and you have every right. I pray at times like this that you can separate Christ from the often hateful actions of Christians. I pray you know the God who created you continues to crazy love you, value you, and find joy in you….just as you are. Please don’t stop fighting for change, and let those of us who love you know how to help.
To World Vision:
My first thoughts were something along the lines of “Where are your balls?!” Sorry. Unproductive, I know. But surely after the controversies resulting from Oreos, Chick-fil-a, scouts, and more, you had to expect some serious backlash. Did you adequately prepare your public relations department? Did you plan financially for the almost guaranteed repercussions? I admire your attempt, but so many have been deeply hurt by your quick reversal…your unwillingness to stand behind your initial convictions in the face of controversy. It’s not that I don’t understand; another blogger said you basically had a gun held to your head, and I’m sure as thousands of sponsorship cancellations poured in, you decided to admit defeat with your overarching goal being to fight poverty and injustice. I don’t doubt your commitment to the world’s poor and making a positive difference, but guys, you let the bullies win this one, and the thing about bullies is that they just keep coming. What will the battle be next time?
Also, maybe you could have had just a little more faith here? I’m going to assume you didn’t make the decision on policy change lightly. I’m going to assume there were numerous discussions and prayers, and no doubt, many on your board supported the decision. Thus, if you moved forward believing you were doing the right thing, why not have the faith to see it through? Do you think the God who watches the sparrows cannot handle replacing a few thousand sponsorships? Dozens of renowned bloggers rallied to your defense and took to Twitter to recruit new sponsors.
She surpassed her goal. You couldn’t hang on for another few days? FAITH people. Try it!
To People Who Cancelled Sponsorships:
So many words that I should probably avoid typing here. <Inserts head into pillow and screams>. You made a commitment to a child. One, particular child with a specific name, story, and needs. That child wrote you letters and drew you pictures and prayed for you at night with his or her family. Do you honestly feel like Jesus is rejoicing that you decided to break your commitment to that child because you disagree with an organization’s hiring practices? If you can abandon your commitment to a child that easily, than perhaps you should reexamine your motives in sponsorship. If any cute kid will do to put on the refrigerator, then maybe it’s more about you feeling good about yourself than about serving others, because that money you took back to make a point….there’s a real person you’re hurting on the other end.
Also, there’s just a little hypocrisy here. So as an evangelical Christian, you don’t want to support a charity that employs married gay people. Would it not then make sense that you would not wish to support other businesses or organizations that employ such persons? I mean, if you can cut off support to a non-profit busy feeding hungry kids to satisfy your moral objections, then certainly you shouldn’t be buying clothes, food, gas, or other material things from organizations employing sinners, right? I mean, some of these companies even pay for benefits for same-sex partners and host community support groups or other services. For instance…
Johnson & Johnson
So where are you doing your shopping these days? Just curious. (No Cheerios for you!)
Oh, and let’s pretend for argument’s sake that I agree with you that gay marriage is a sin.Why should World Vision have policies against hiring persons with that one particular sin and not others? Are they still allowed to hire unrepentant gluttons? Divorced and remarried persons?
Oh, isn’t being legalistic with Biblical interpretation just so interesting!
To Evangelical Christians:
I love so many of you dearly. I owe much of my own journey with God to your patient guidance and faithful lives. You have been the body of Christ to me on many occasions.
But guys, you are breaking my heart with the way you’re treating my LGBT brothers and sisters. I spend a lot of time with young people these days, and you are succeeding in driving away future generations from the Jesus you proclaim to want them to know. They look at you and see hatred, hypocrisy, judgment, and a self-serving interpretation of who is “in” and who is “out.” Your angry words drown out the whispers of grace and mercy. Your shadow freezes the warmth offered by a loving community of believers. Your actions bind the hands and feet of Christ.
Do you think all those cancelled sponsorships won hearts for the kingdom? Do you think a single LGBT person read the judgmental blog posts and hateful comments and felt the love of Jesus? Do you think a single non-believer thought, “Gee. These Christians sure showed World Vision by taking money from those needy kids. Man! They’re awesome. I’m totally gonna go get baptized now.”
I’m thinking not. I’m thinking that yesterday, right-winged believers patted one another on the back and returned to life behind their carefully monitored walls while those on the fringes took another step away from the Church. The bullies won, but the Kingdom lost.
And as one who has experienced amazing grace, that breaks my heart.
So please, pray about this with an open mind. ReadTorn, by Justin Lee, and pray some more. And before joining in the next anti-gay campaign, ask yourself these questions:
Are my words or actions going to invite someone closer to Jesus?
If the answer is no, then please just go stuff your head in a pillow and scream.
On the other hand, if you’re a parent who may or may not occasionally give your two-year-old an iPhone to prevent total, apocalyptic meltdown in the middle of Kroger or put on just one more episode of <insert mind-numbing, brightly-colored, shrilly discordant vehicle of episodic childhood glee here> in order to eat/shower/defecate all by yourself…..then you may keep reading, my friend.
Of course, I don’t advocate using the television as a babysitter. (Much.) But sometimes….y’all know Mama needs a break. Fortunately for mamas today, there’s an increasingly wide range of children’s programming options that are guilt-free innovative, educational, and inspiring! Thus, instead of watching the “Single Ladies” video ten times in a row (hypothetically), your toddler can work on his or her social-emotional development.
From PBS, Daniel Tiger is based on the puppet in the originalMister Roger’s Neighborhood.Geared toward ages 2-4, the show focuses on one emotional or developmental challenge in each episode and then follows a character as he or she practices strategies to overcome that issue in different situations.
The show covers childhood basics such as sharing, safety, toilet training, helping friends, etc., but recent episodes have branched into more complicated emotional lessons such as fostering empathy, handling jealousy, and taming frustration.
For parents focused on connective parenting and helping our children “name” their feelings or relate better to their own emotions, episodes can provide wonderful conversation starters.
“Hey Ellie, when you hurled your bowl of cereal across the room, were you frustrated?
“Yeah Mommy. I fwustwated. I mad. SO mad. I want cheese. Big cheese!”
I mean, you still have to clean up the cereal, but at least you know why, right?
The best part is that each episode features a simple, catchy song that reinforces the lesson and is easy for parents to practice with toddlers for use in a heated moment. For instance, in this clip, Daniel is upset because his birthday cake gets squished inside the box, and the lesson focuses on dealing with disappointment.
Y’all, it’s cheesy I know, but it works. Without any input from us, Ellie has started singing these songs to herself, her friends, and us, and the amazing thing is that thus far, she always applies an applicable song to each situation.
For instance, the other day, Ellie had a friend over to play, and the girls were sharing toys in the driveway. (Yes. I let her go outside in her pajamas. What about it?) When her friend got upset about getting out of a car for Ellie’s turn, Ellie put her hands on her hips and started singing, “Take something bad; make something good! Make it good Sawah!” Preferable to just yanking her out or throwing a tantrum, right?
Likewise, on more than one occasion, she’s been initially a little clingy when we’ve dropped her at new places; however, after a minute or two, she sings “Grooooownups come back” and then kisses us goodbye with a grin.
That’s why I LOVE this show. Daniel Tiger models problem-solving skills in ways that empower very young children and gives them tools to attempt to solve conflict and regulate emotions on their own.
And you better believe we pull out some Daniel Tiger when it benefits us. That chubby little feline is our go-to strategy these days. Frustrated about lacing up shoes? Trouble remembering your bedtime routine? So angry that you want to ROAR?!
There’s a song for that.
Just show me a little grace when I break out into song in public. It happens.