Lesson Learned

Last week we went to my oldest son's swim team family bonfire.  I called the hostess to confirm she really meant "family...as in the whole family".

"Yep," she said.  "The entire family is invited."

"Well, then there will be 8 of us there."

"Oh, 8 people?  Oh.  Well...that's great.  See you Saturday."

Most of the other high-schoolers were there with their parents.  A few had brought some younger, elementary-school aged siblings.  We were the only ones with pre-schoolers.  But we were there.  All there.

This home was beautiful.  The back yard was a children's paradise with manicured paths through the woods leading back to this chalet-style shed and fire pit.  In the shed, which was painted red and had this cute curving roof and covered porch, the upstairs had been transformed into a hide-out of sorts.  There were a few cots stored up there for impromptu campouts.  There was also a fire pole descending from a balcony on the 2nd floor to the ground.  Attached to the side of the shed was a cool rope swing that you had to climb up on a platform to mount.  And over to one side of the woods there was a zip line.

My little girls first tried out the rope swing, but it being dark and all, the big kids kept walking into the swinging path and the girls would hit them.  So they decided to try out the fire pole.  I went inside to help them at the top and my husband stayed down below to catch them.  There were 5 or 6 swimmers in the upstairs of the shed hanging out -- my son being one of them.  He was showing off his little sisters to the other kids....particularly the ladies.  Little sisters have magic ways about them....making all kinds of young women want to talk to Kyle.  And he knows it.

After the girls had slid down the pole a few times, they asked me to try.  So, being the cool mom (not!), I attempted the fire pole.  My husband looked at me and shook his head as I was going down.  It was slow.  And ugly.  Not quite the picture I think he was hoping for.  When I got to the bottom, one of the high-school girls who was debating about going down was being teased and prodded to go for it.  While I was standing there, her phone fell out of her pocket and landed right on my lip.  Yeeeeeoooooowwww!  Now, I couldn't scream or cry or make any other obnoxious noises because we did not know any of these people.  The young woman was still standing on the balcony asking, "Where's my phone???"

I wanted to shout, "It hit me in the mouth, you moron!!", but for my son's sake, I kept my mouth shut.

After that we made our way over to the fire pit to hang out.  My two girls were hanging on my lap whining.  One had a tummy ache.  One was just being two.  I was talking to an older woman who said to me, "I just can't believe you can carry on a conversation as if nothing is going on."  I realized that they must be making more of a racket than I thought.  The four year old was still complaining of the tummy ache and I decided I better take her to the bathroom.  We made our way into this very large, well decorated and immaculately kept home.  The girls were fighting over who would go first because they both had to go "weely bad".  I decided Charlotte should go first because if we were going to have an accident, it's WAY better to have a pee accident than a poop accident.  Especially at someone else's house.  Charlotte sat.  And sat.  And sat.  Gwen was grabbing herself and laying on the floor with her feet up on the wall.  "Get your feet off their wall!!!!"  Oh my word.  They would know for sure whose muddy feet were on their wall.  Definitely not any of their kids.  I made an executive decision to remove Charlotte from the potty so Gwen could go.  Charlotte protested and stayed right next to the toilet with her pants pulled down ready to jump back on as soon as Gwen finished.  Once Gwen finished her business, Charlotte climbed back on.  And sat.  And sat.  And sat.  Nothing.  You know, there's only so long that it's OK to hang out in someone's house when they are not even inside.  "Charlotte, you are going to have to wait and go at home.  We have to go back outside now."  She did not like that plan, but got up and went back outside with me.  Continuing to complain and whine.

I had finally had enough and asked Matt to drive the 2 little girls and I home and then come back to stay with the others.  The girls were glad to gather their things and head to the van.  I think the other guests were glad to see the little girls gather their things and head to the van, too.  Charlotte complained the whole way home.   "My tummy hurts."  As soon as we pulled into the driveway and parked, she said, "I think I'm gonna barf."  We quickly opened the door and she had no sooner set foot on the driveway then she let fly.  Oh....was I ever glad to be at my own house.  And good girl for doing it outside where I did not have to clean anything up.  Just send daddy out with a bucket of water and all's well!  Once that was over she was her chipper, content self.  Ready to watch a movie and get her PJ's on and hang out.

Guess I learned my lesson....when it says "Family Cookout".  It doesn't really mean the WHOLE family.  Some things are better accomplished with a small group.  Next time I'll know.

Kids Say...

Over the weekend I let the little girls watch Tangled.  It's a version of the story of Rapunzel -- the girl with the long hair trapped in the tower.  Afterward, Gwen kept talking about blue jeans.  "You be blue jeans, I'll be purple."  I could not figure out what she was talking about.  After a long go-round of questions and explanations, she emphatically told me, "You be Blue Jeans....you know the boy who is Purple's friend".  The main character other than Rapunzel is a young man named Eugene.  Gwen had decided his name was Blue Jeans, and she had also decided that Rapunzel's name was Purple.  Hilarious.  She and Charlotte are really into pretend...."you be the mom and I'll be the baby".... "You be the dog and I'll be the girl"....."You be the horse and I'll be the rider"....and on an on.

Then today, Gwen was going potty before her nap.  I realized she had wet herself.  "Gwen, did you potty in your pants?" I asked her.

"No, Charlotte did."

"Charlotte peed in your pants?"

"Yes.  She did.  She did it."

Now that's an interesting explanation.  Never heard of someone peeing in another person's pants.

Cooks in My Kitchen

I have some chefs in my family.  My oldest daughter LOVES to bake.  She has become the champion apple pie baker of our extended family.  It's a killer apple pie -- with a graham cracker crust and crumb topping.  Mmmmmm.  She also recently whipped up some gingersnap cookies.  They were pretty good, too....although I must admit I'm partial to chocolate chip cookies (or more specifically the dough).  She asks about twice a week if she can bake something.  I usually cringe.  I hate other people in my kitchen.  Which is funny because I am rarely in my kitchen alone.  I don't want others messing with my stuff, using up my ingredients, leaving a mess even though they promised to clean up when they were done.  I know I should be thankful she wants to be in the kitchen, and I should work with her more and more -- turning over dinner to her eventually.  Not sure I can give that one up!

Also, my oldest son, a freshman in highschool, likes to step into the kitchen occasionally.  He and the other two boys like to watch cooking shows on PBS on Saturday mornings.  (Don't ask them about it, they would probably deny it!)  I think that America's Test Kitchen or BBQ U is their favorite.  Anyway, last Saturday I slept in until 8:00 and woke to find Kyle making crepes.  Yes, you saw that correctly....crepes.  My 14 year old son was making crepes.  He had seen them make them on TV and had to have them.  He filled them with eggs and cheese and served them up to all of us.  Pretty impressive, I must say!  He was so humble about it..."they are too thick - they should be thinner than a tortilla and these just aren't quite the way I wanted".  It was so cute.  I just can't believe he made crepes!

My worst kitchen nightmare is my two little girls wanting to "help".  Oh, I just want to scream when I hear that word.  It's usually when I decide to make cookies.  I try to sneak in there and make them, but as soon as the mixer starts up, they are right there on the kitchen chair they pulled over.  Asking to crack the eggs, dump the flour, measure the salt, eat the dough.  And you know what???  It usually DOES happen exactly the way I think it will.  They get shells in the dough, they spill the flour, they measure too much salt, beg for more chocolate chips and fight over who gets to lick the beaters.  Every time.  Is that wrong?? Aren't moms supposed to love having their little chicks gather 'round and make cookies together?  Well not this mama.  I want to be alone in my kitchen - preferably with my little corner fold-down TV on, doing my own thing.  I guess that will come in about 15 years, huh?

Date Nights

Something that I was completely unprepared for as my kids get older is how hard it is to find "couple time".  Matt and I love to go on date nights - we try to go out at least once a month.  It doesn't always happen, but we look forward to that time.  But we also enjoy just hanging out together in the evenings after the kids are in bed.  That used to be an easy task....throw the kids in bed (maybe even a tad early - they couldn't read the clock anyway!) and have the whole evening to ourselves.  Now, as a freshman in high school and a seventh grader, the oldest two aren't buying it!  They can read a clock now (thankfully) and they want to stay up later on the weekends and watch their own movie or play a game with us.  That leaves a very small (and sometimes nonexistent) window to have couple time.  We still love to hire a sitter -- a senior in college who has been babysitting for us for 12 years -- and go out.  The sitter is for the little kids, but also to calm our hearts so we know they are safe and not fighting with each other.  She's been around us for so long that I no longer have to even give her instructions or set out PJs.  She walks in the door and we walk out... totally at peace that the kids are going to have a ball, be well fed, and go to bed happy and on time.  Ahhhh.   It's good to still crave time with your man after 18 years of marriage.  I do love him and loving having time with him!  

Creative Genius

We have gotten back into our normal routine of school, chores, meals, kids activities, sleep, repeat.  While it was a blessing to have my sister-in-law and two nephews stay with us for three weeks, it's also nice to get back to it just being the eight of us.  Funny, isn't it.  I used to think our house was crowded with eight!!!  All I needed was a little perspective.

Today, the girls were making a craft that called for using some tape on the back to hold a piece in place.  I don't know about your house, but around here, tape is a hot commodity.  I buy the mega pack....like 6 rolls at a time.  I have no idea what they use it for, but it's always gone within weeks.  Anyway, today I was looking all over for the tape.  I just had four new rolls last week.  The boys kept telling me, "It's all gone.  We used it all."  But I just couldn't believe them.  Sure enough, not a roll to be found.  Now, what to do about that craft that needed a piece of tape to hold it in place.  That's when I walked past the box of bandaids that had been left out on the counter.  Perfect!!  So we have two little pictures of Ruth (from the Bible) gathering wheat - and 2 real wheat stalks tucked into her basket on her back held in place with bandaids.

Later this afternoon I was outside with the kids cleaning up our pumpkin display.  We had at least 12 pumpkins carved and/or painted for Halloween.  We had set up a little table in the front yard to display them properly on Monday night.  But now that it's Wednesday....and November 2nd, it was time to clean it up.  When I came back out from running something into the house, the boys had a hammer and were taking turns whacking a pumpkin that had never been carved.  Fairly harmless fun, I thought to myself.  But then the 4 year old stepped up and wanted a turn.  She started using the "pull the nail out" side of the hammer.....hmmm.....maybe not so harmless after all.  With that, my husband came around the corner and asked very calmly, "Would you like me to call the ER now to make an appointment for the kid who hacks into their leg?"  OK.  I got the picture.  I then suggested that they work on it with their baseball bats in the middle of the yard.  One at a time.  One hit per turn.  Everyone else standing in the driveway. The two boys had their metal bats, the 2 year old had the orange toddler wiffle-ball bat, and the 4 year old had a hockey stick.  It was a good challenge.  Of course, they completely obliterated the thing.  Shredded it into hundreds of pieces.  Good clean (or dirty) fun.  And no one got hurt.

Life is Different Now

It has been a good, long while since I have posted.  Life has sort of been turned upside down over the last month.  My brother, Geoff, took his own life on Sept 25th.  Since that date we have been preparing for the funeral, traveling to Montana for the service and then back to Indiana for another service and adjusting to life as it is now.  His wife and two small children have been staying with us since then.  They are preparing to return home on Tuesday.  It's hard thinking about them leaving.  It's like a little part of him is still here since they are around.  When they leave, I think it will feel very final.  We know that Geoff is now at peace and is in heaven with his Savior - that does bring comfort.  We also know that he had struggled with depression for at least 15 years, with the last year being very hard - a daily battle to stay alive - and that now he no longer has to be in that ugly place.  In the end, his body just could not handle one more doctor or prescription or treatment.  He was very sick.  It's all well and good to understand on an intellectual level.  But making your heart understand is a whole different thing.  Making children understand.....a whole different thing.  It will be a long time of grieving.  But God is good.  And I am determined to praise Him in this storm.  One of my very dear friends sang that song at our celebration of life ("Praise You in This Storm" by Casting Crowns).  That is what I am clinging to.

Blessings

There's some pretty yucky stuff going on with a family member.  We are in the middle of all of the mess - counseling, hugging, loving on this person.  When I am able to back away for just a bit, I am reminded just how blessed I am.  I have a wonderful husband and 6 kids who are healthy and happy.  (I must just say that I am not bragging here -  not saying my husband is always this perfect man -- he's broken and imperfect.  In fact, he told me this morning that he was sitting in church thinking about how flawed he was and how flawed I was, but yet we work together with Christ to fill in each other's gaps.  My kids are also not perfect -- they're whiny, argumentative, and irritating, but we're working on it!)  I am so thankful for friends -- deep, real, true friends.  Friends who cry with you when you don't know what else to do.  Friends who help out this family member even though they have never met them.  Friends who are praying for this situation.  I am also thankful for extended family -- for difficult circumstances forcing family to have to work together and be real with each other.

I spoke at a mom's group at our church on Friday, and as I was introduced the host gave a little bio including all of my "awesome mom" stats:  married 18 years, 6 kids, homeschools, funny, etc.  It was very humbling, but not an accurate or at least not a complete picture of who I am.  I didn't want these young moms to be intimidated by me.  I'm the farthest thing from "mom of the year".  I used a visual of a beautiful crystal glass filled with the dirt I swept off my kitchen floor.  We all put on our beautiful side and show off how shimmery and sparkly we are, but it's when you are willing to tip the glass on its side and reveal what's inside that people can really get to know you, dirt and all.  That's the real me -- the dirt on my floor.  You can know about me...the gum wrapper revealing what kind of gum I chew, the bandaid wrapper showing that someone had a cut, the corn silks showing what we ate for dinner, the parts of my front door wreath that got knocked to the ground by 2 kids playing chase.  That's the real me.  And, yes, I do package it in the beautiful glass -- we all do.  But if we are going to be true, we must be willing to look at and accept the "dirt".