Where Are You?

“When you’re scared, Ava, you can talk to  God.” I tried to reassure my 3-year-old daughter as we lay side-by-side on her bed in the dark room.

“But, Mom – listen.” Then, as she looked at the ceiling, she loudly called out, “GOD!”

Silence met her call.

“See, Mom, He doesn’t answer me.”

 

It reminded me of Psalm 13. “How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me?” “Look on me and answer, O Lord my God.”

 

I smiled as I told her that I didn’t hear him talking, either, but that I knew he was always there and could hear me, even when I don’t hear him talking back.

I hope she can learn at a very young age to join with the Psalmist David and scores of others throughout history who’ve made this their declaration: “But I trust in your unfailing love; my heart rejoices in your salvation. I will sing to the Lord, for he has been good to me.”

She did finally go to sleep, and was happy to report upon waking that the scary things had indeed left her alone in her bed. Apparently God was there after all – and I’ll bet he smiled a bit at her honest assessment of His presence.

Six Days

The neice & nephews think it might be long enough. After all, how much fun can an aunt and two kids be that many days in a row? I’ll tell you . . .

Friday: Camp out in tent & guest house, complete with fire and marshmallows

Saturday morning: Yard sales until 11:00 (this was Adrian’s favorite part)

After that: Go to Justin’s soccer game.  Then to Burger King for milk shakes to reward the patience exhibited by all.

After that (still Saturday): Go tromp around on our land and see the house site.

Yet later on Saturday: go to circus

After circus: eat pizza (compliments of grandparents, because parents are still not home)

SUNDAY: Don’t know what they do, but my kids go to their house.

MONDAY: Ida closes school, so they come after lunch. Eat three bags of popcorn for snack and play with grandma’s laptop.

TUESDAY: Still Ida, so . . . Go to Brewton to Goodwill, Dirt Cheap, Walmart, and the Flomaton Economy Shop. Squeeze in more Burger King (my blow $$ is officially GONE for the month). Buy stuff for Operation Christmas Child boxes. More popcorn.

After that: listen to cousin scream for 15-20 minutes that she chooses to stop crying. Go figure.

WEDNESDAY: Adrian gets a break, thanks to Charlie. Justin gets to go with Dad to work at church. Anna & Ava work on a centerpiece for the Weber Thanksgiving. McDonald’s lunch with Grandma for us girls (& Luke). I suggest popcorn for snack, but . . . Adrian’s not here. Anna & Ava choose popsicles. Anna gets the laptop all to herself and has such fun making videos of herself with it.

Look at all the fun we packed into 6 days and 1 night. Let me just say that my life is SOOOOOO much easier with the van. I love these kids!! We consider ourselves blessed to have 6 whole days with them. My kids will be officially in withdrawal tomorrow.

Makes You Think

I’ve heard the same sermon on the radio twice recently, and in it is this illustration from James Dobson. It really sobers me, and makes me think about the intensity that we should be focusing on this process.

“This mission of introducing one’s children to the Christian faith can be likened to a three-man relay race. First, your father runs his lap around the track, carrying the baton, which represents the gospel of Jesus Christ. At the appropriate moment, he hands the baton to you, and you begin your journey around the track. Then finally, the time will come when you must get the baton safely in the hands of your child. But as any track coach will testify, relay races are won or lost in the transfer of the baton. There is a critical moment when all can be lost by a fumble or miscalculation. The baton is rarely dropped on the back side of the track when the runner has it firmly in his grasp. If failure is to occur, it will likely happen in the exchange between generations!”

So, I want to know . . .

Was it wrong for me to stand in the shower until the hot water ran out?

My 4-month-old nephew came a 7:00 this morning, prompting an endless stream of suggestions and ideas relating to his care and play habits from my daughter. I was directed to “look at his eyes – he’s NOT sleeping,” and repeatedly begged to grant permission for him to brave the 50-degree temps and “play” in the tent on the deck.

I remembered shortly after Luke & Joshua were in morning naps that Ava had not done her “school” for the week, and the lady was coming today with the next week’s lesson. We had fun tasting sweet things, drawing slanted lines, jumping over moons, etc.  All the while, I was trying to clean up a bit, because I knew people would be there in the afternoon.

As I was braiding Ava’s hair, Luke came into the bathroom (after visiting the e-bay room, apparently) and stuffed a large piece of bubble wrap in the toilet. I tried to stop him with my foot (my hands were holding the braid in place) and he dutifully obeyed and pulled it out, dripping water . . .We packed up in the van (Joshua in the very back — bad move.  Let’s just say he may have whiplash.) and headed out the door to a 10:00 brunch. It was nice, although with my three kids in tow, I wasn’t much more than a warm-bodied child-policer. I opted to return Joshua to his perch through the back, which proved to be much easier, although I’m sure created somewhat of a spectacular sight from behind.

Luke fell asleep on the way home. Jake met me at home and we took our car to a neighbor’s to get it washed and waxed (for selling!!) I thought I had both boys sleeping when my first guest came. Hmmm. They cried intermittently, but that was only a quiet hint of the fit that was about to erupt from my daughter. Embarrassing. I finally had to give in and spank her. Sent her to bed to “sleep with Joshua.” Meanwhile, Luke had escalated his complaint to a forceful (and steady!) wail, which continued on well after I changed his poopy diaper. Finally, I gave in and held him, while still trying to have the meeting I had started an hour earlier.

Someone stopped by for Mary Kay.

I check on Ava. All was silent, but not all silence is golden. She was messing with Joshua, and neither were sleeping.

Theresa came with Ava’s next set of lesson plans.

Kids crying, running around without pants, etc.

Theresa plays with Ava while I finish my first meeting. Then, a few moments of talking with her and daughter begins screaming. We just talk louder.

I’m struggling to get the kids back in bed. Luke screams every time I put him down. Ava insists that she should not have a nap. Joshua is hungry. Mom comes.

Mom comes. She intervenes. Bless her heart, she lays in the room with the kids and keeps them calm in hopes that they’ll fall asleep.

I’m getting Joshua’s bottle ready when I hear a thud. I look toward the open door (it WAS a beautiful day!) and see a large red cardinal flopping around on my dining room floor. Jake’s dragon is salivating in its cage as it sees potential prey, and I’m am horrified. I’m sure it broke its neck, as it came to a stop under my bench and lay motionless. I called for my mommy. She came out of the room (Luke resumed screaming), looked at the bird and told me to get the dust pan. Ava strolls out to see what’s going on. Mom scoops up the bird, and we put it on the back porch table so that Gracie will not eat its carcass before Jake gets home to take care of it.

Joshua’s really hungry by now, and he chugs down the bottle in record time. I lay him on the floor, and go to change my laundry (yes, I did forget to mention that I started it first thing in the morning.) I fold one load of laundry, leaving the piles on my bed because the kids are sleeping.

Because it’s a new month,  I have to do the budget and the checkbook. Just finishing that up and Luke starts screaming. I don’t get why he has to do that immediately upon waking, but . . . He eventually wakes Ava, who has clearly not had enough sleep. The fact that Grandma took Joshua ignites a long series (and I do mean series) of fits — not just minor fits, mind you — screaming at the top of her lungs until she nearly throws up.  Luke is not to be outdone, so it’s noisy. Somewhere in all of this, the bird awoke from its stupor and flew away.

Jake came home as I was trying to finish the deposits. I decide to make a quick run to see if the bank is still opened. I leave the sound of both kids screaming my name. The bank is closed, so I come right back home. Ava is still screaming like a child possessed. After punishment and a long talk, I realize she thought I had gone to MOPS and was upset because I had left her.

We eat. We decide to take a family trip to the grocery store. All is good, until Ava decided she wanted to walk instead of ride. I gave in. Then, she became upset at something in the check-out line, and her horrified father whisked her outside. As I was putting the groceries in the van, she continued screeching, because daddy, not mommy, was strapping her in, among other things.

The phone rang while I was putting away the groceries. “Okay. No problem.” Five minutes later, I’m getting ready to start coffee when my tutee (or whatever you call the child you tutor) arrives, and I dive into the world of Algebra and World History. Jake doesn’t realize I’ve already put water in the coffee pot, adds his own water and overflows it. I discover a large, uneaten pile of bananas and green beans on the table, which duty calls me to clean up.  Okay, so NOW I finally start the Math. Ava promises she will stay in bed with no fussing, but has to get up repeatedly to check to see if I’m “still happy.” I think she really has a little crush on Kit, and refuses to fall asleep until he leaves.

Talk on the phone to my mother-in-law.

Jake goes to bed, because he has to be up early. Before crawling in, he calls me to find out what’s the deal with the clothes on the bed. Sigh. I put them away, as much as I can. I work on getting eBay items ready to mail. Why would today be the day when I have five international packages, which require three times as much work from me? Finish the packages, schedule a pick-up. Start paying bills. Run out of checks. Order checks. Order new wallet from Dave Ramsey (this has needed to be done for a while). Eat a bagel.

Tomorrow’s MOPS. I’m supposed to take food. I need to take those five international packages to the post office, an interesting chore with two kids. Jake’s working in Mobile, so he’ll be gone for a long day.

So, yes, yes, yes. I think I deserve to get into the shower, shave my legs, wash my hair and just stand there until the hot water runs out.  After all, what else is a mom to do when she finally gets a minute alone?

What She Said IV

Grandma was writing a check for mommy. Ava walked over to her with a pen and sweetly said, “Grandma, you just write ‘A-V-A’.”

“Daddy put this [Barbie] band-aid on for me. But he put her upside down. She’s getting bizzy (dizzy) from being upside-down for so long.”

At 10:00 p.m. — Mommy: “Ava, the clock says it’s past your bedtime.” Ava: “It say, ‘Rock her first,’ Momma.” How could any mom refuse?

As daddy & Ava passed a stray cat, Ava said, “Don’t hit her, Daddy. Or she will say, ‘Waaaa, Waaaa, you died me.’”

Ava wanted to go to MOPS. I told her she was coughing, and that we probably wouldn’t get to go today. She replied, “I’m swallowing the chokes back, momma,”  as she bravely attempted to keep from coughing.

Praying: (after Momma prayed for Ava to feel better) “No, Momma. I already prayed for that. You don’t have to do it again.”

After a somewhat loose, greenish production in the potty, Ava said, “It looks like I eated grass.”

Eating a juicy apple: “Why do these spit on my nose everytime?”

Luke got into the cupboard during the short amount of time I had it un-rubber-banded. I said, “Luke, what are you doing?” Ava piped up: “He’s cloroxing, Mom!” After a mad, panic-infused rush, I discovered it was only a bottle of Windex. This child makes me soooo tired.

We were at Williams’ Station Day, and Ava saw a balloon go up into the air. She subsequently saw a cloud moving quickly toward the balloon. “Daddy, the cloud is trying to catch the balloon. It doesn’t know how to catch the balloon.”

What She Said, III

While Daddy was brushing her teeth, she wanted to look in his mouth. Upon seeing the gold cap, etc., she exclaimed, “Daddy, it’s a treasure chest!”

“Mommy, your eyes are kind of like two ‘O’s’.”

“Mom — your forgot to fold my baby.” Then, “I am not a baby, so you don’t have to fold me.” Translation: fold = swaddle with a blanket.

Daddy: “Ava, don’t bite Luke’s toes. Toes are nasty. They’re dirty.” Then, “Would you want to put daddy’s toe in your mouth?”

Ava: “NOOO WAAAY.”

Daddy: “Why not?” (We’re excellent re-teachers. . .)

Ava: “Because you have a sock on, silly Daddy.”

While getting her hair combed: “Ava, do you have ants in your pants? Is that why you can’t sit still?”

Ava: “No. I have someone pulling my hair.”

When asked if she was pretend sleeping or for real sleeping, she replied, “NO – I’m not pretending. It’s for real sleeping.”

While I was changing Luke’s diaper, I looked over to see Ava with her baby doll’s head down in the opening of the diaper champ. She looked up at me with a grin. “She’s getting honey, Mom.” I asked her if she meant that her baby was like a bee, and she said, “Yes,” and started making her kick her legs, I guess to help with honey-gathering. “Does she smell like honey?” I asked. “No, she smells like crackerjacks.”

“Mom, why does Sprite have bubbles?”

“It’s called ‘carbonation.’”

“No, Mom. It’s just called ‘Spritey’.”

“I can’t hold your hand, Mom. It makes me dizzy.”

“When I wake up, I want some water.” Then, “Place one cup out, Mom.” Place one cup? Place? I feel like I should say, “Yes, ma’am.”

I have repeatedly heard, “Hmm. Smells like eggs.” Anyone want to guess what the smell is linked to?

“I want to say ‘Hi’ to Aunt Judy’s friend.” Who would that be? Why, “Uncle Gene,” of course.

Not Just for Women & Children

This past Sunday, I made it to church at 7:45 for worship practice. As I looked around, I was struck by the buzz of activity already going on in the building. Then, I noticed something even more impressive. Aside from the one other woman on the worship team that morning, these “early” workers (within my line of sight at least) were all men and teenage boys. Four were in the sound/video booth, making sure videos were going to start on cue for the morning service and walking through several special features that were to take place. Six were on the stage with me. One was busy setting up the coffee service in the lobby. One was reviewing the sermon he was about to preach twice.

The thought came to me: “Real men do church.” My apologies if you’re reading this, are a man, and are not really in to church. It’s just that for so long it’s been billed as a woman/child sort of place, and I’m really blessed that I am able to raise my kids (and my son in particular) in a place where men are so involved.

I’m sure it’s a coincidence, but as the first service progressed (the one I regularly attend — just stay long enough to “do worship” in the second one), I wanted to stand up and applaud. It was literally one of the best services we’ve had there in a long time. For me, the worship was incredible and the sermon was PHENOMENAL.  (http://www.gracefellowshipatmore.org/ — Click “Sermons”, the click the “Sermon Player”, then choose BIG JESUS.) As I looked around, I saw people in rapt attention, soaking up a message that was surely sent from God.

It started who knows when. Sometime, Gene felt the nudge to pursue the subject and develop the sermon. Then, on D-day, there were a bunch of men (and a few women) who got up early and made sure it happened. Awesome. (and thank you — I needed that.)

A Rather Unexpected Blessing

Last Tuesday, there was a massive thunderstorm in our area with tremendous lightning strikes. One hit a neighbor’s tree within about 50 feet of our house, resulting in pine debris all over the yard, deck, cars, etc. I was hosting a jewelry party that night and didn’t really try to watch TV, but the next time I turned it on after the storm, I discovered it was a beautiful shade of blue. After talking to my neighbor the next morning, it seemed she had her cable service. So, I called and the Mediacom people said we were in an outage area (okay, so maybe she’s just older and got her morning TV shows mixed up?) Anyway, by yesterday, when we still didn’t have cable (or any TV for that matter,) I decided to call again. This time, the outage had been cleared and they scheduled a service call for today. Video, etc., still worked, but we hadn’t seen any TV all week. Not really that bad, except that we’re paying for it, and I hate to pay for something I can’t enjoy. So, the splitter was blown – likely from the close lightning strike – and a five-minute fix had us up and running again.

My nephew, Justin, (13) was here, so he had the Little League World Series on ESPN for a couple of hours. Jake was out trimming the hedges. Let me parenthetically insert here that we just re-wired from fuses to breaker boxes on our house. Anyway, Jake accidentally gets a bit too close to the cord with the hedge trimmer (can’t say much, since it’s a miracle it still works after I dropped it into the kids’ pool) and flipped the breaker. (Yay — new breakers work perfectly!!) After all was “fixed,” Justin noticed that the light for the TV was not lit. The thing is just gone. Absolutely NO power. No one with any electrical sense can figure out how it would have fried the TV, but it appears to have done just that. We used to have a back-up TV, but a few months ago it crashed to the floor in the solarium, causing it to leave us. So, no TV again.

Fast-forward. The rest of our King kid relatives came while their parents went to dinner. What to do? Play station is unavailable. Videos are unavailable. ESPN is unavailable.

So, you go back to the good old way it used to be. You take every pillow in the house, a bunch of blankets and you build each child their own personal tent. Anna’s was even complete with an air-conditioner (filter from the kids’ room) and a stuffed animal to guard the door. Then, you play hide & seek with a flash-light. You help make the pizza for supper, watch the snake eat a frog, finish cleaning up the debris from the hedge-trimming, make the baby laugh.

Anna (7) went to bed with Ava & Luke, leaving the boys and Jake & me to pass the evening hours. So, what game shall we play? We finally settled on “SCUM” and my 500 or so hours of experience from school came in handy as I quickly became president. My husband was hesitant, but quickly caught on. As we sat on the floor and an odd assortment of chairs on our back deck playing cards, I was struck by the fact that we really miss out. The boys were funny. Really. I don’t know when I’ve enjoyed them so much. They were good sports, caught on quickly, and cracked silly jokes and used silly voices. We ate whoopie pies, Jake & I had our coffee out there. We remembered how Adrian (10) used to pout when he was a baby, and we talked about fights and such their mom & I had as a kid. They thought it was great. It was just a good time.

I told them that the next time they came, I was unplugging the TV on purpose. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised tomorrow if the thing just decided to work again, because maybe God just turned it off so we’d have such a fun evening. I wouldn’t trade it for the world, much less some stupid show I don’t really care about anyway, or some virtual racing game. I bet my nephews wouldn’t either.

See, God does know how to give good blessings. Unexpected? Sometimes. But good. ALWAYS.

More Than A $3.99 Value Meal

“Mom, did you know Grandpa lives at Burger King?”

This as we passed by on our way home from a girl’s night out.  Hmm.

“Sometimes I say to Grandpa, ‘May I have a Sprite, please, when we go to Burger King.’”

I was thinking about the short conversation as I drove home and again after I put Ava to bed. My dad, although not a resident of Burger King, has made quite an impression on my daughter. And it’s not just my daughter. The very next day, I heard:

“Aunt ‘Nette, it’s FRIDAY. I think it’s a Grandpa day.”

True to form, Grandpa came and picked up kids and took them to Burger King for lunch after the phone call that followed Justin’s great idea.

You know, as far as grandpas go, I think  my dad’s about the greatest. Now I realize not all grandparents are in a financial situation to be able to treat their grandkids to fast food (although he did use over half of the week’s lunch money on us that day.) I know that other grandparents just have so many grandkids that it’s not that easy to get them all together like this (probably the case with my grandparents). And I definitely know that some grandparents just have so much going in their own lives that they find it difficult to slow down enough to take a slow, messy lunch with little kids.

So, let it be known — the grandchildren of Calvin Schrock are being given a priceless gift. Regularly. And they love him for it, with the kind of love that only grows out of a time and heart investment. It’s an investment that isn’t affected by the economy — in my book, the interest rate is at an all-time high. I believe our children will enter the world with a sense of family identity that will help to chart the course of their future decisions, thanks to Grandpa, Burger King, and the $3.99 value meal special of the day.

What She Said II

Volume II in my online journal of sweet things Ava says. Just in case you don’t know, the cast of characters includes Gracie, our little white dog.

Ava: “Mommy just snapped Gracie.”
Daddy: “Snapped?”
Ava: “Yes, snapped her feet off.” (Translation: clipped her toenails)

While Luke was screaming — “Jeepers, Mom. I just can’t handle this.”

After nearly getting in trouble for being out of her bed: “Okay, Mom. I don’t like this choice.” as she hopped back under the covers.

In the public restroom at a restaurant:
Ava: “Mom, I want to put something in there [the 'feminine' trash receptacle]“
Me: “That’s for grown-ups, Ava.”
Ava: “Maybe next time I will bring a grown-up to throw in there.”

“I have an idea. Let’s drive to Heaven and pick up Grandpa Weber.”

On the potty — In the sing-song tone of voice as the wolf in Three Little Pigs: “Little Pee-pee, come out of my bottom.”

“Daddy, [that elephant's] blowing out of his trumpet.”

While helping with dough in the kitchen — “Wait, Mom. I’ve got to roll it . . . and pat it . . .” Then, “Look, Mom — I’m spanking the dough.”

When Luke wouldn’t let go of her balloon, “Luke, I’m getting frustrated with you.”

“Mom, is your Bible a toy for babies?” “No, it is not a toy.” “Baby Luke does not know that the Bible says to obey your parents. I think that was why he was trying to read it. But he disobeyed to play with your Bible.” What IS one to do with this terribly perplexing situation?

Latest prayer trends — “Thanks that Luke is a precious boy. Thanks that Gracie is a precious girl. Thanks that mommy is a precious girl. Thanks that daddy is a precious boy. . . .” Then, “Thanks for beautiful lights. And beautiful fans. And beautiful babies. . . And beautiful Mommy. And beautiful Daddy.” ALL (and I do mean ALL) prayers end with, “Thank you, Jesus. Amen. I love you, Jesus. Amen.”

And one we’re increasingly hearing, either as we age and get stupider or she ages and gets wiser: “Mom/Dad, you nade a bistake.”