Quick glimpse...

Today my computer will be shut off. and I will spend the entire day focusing on my girls.

And hopefully the back of my eyelids, as I am ex.haus.ted.

But for now, here's two quick snapshots of my little bitties...

Raegan (23 months) and Alana (5 months)

Isn't it crazy how Alana's head is pretty much the same size as Raegan's? :) Makes me wonder if the girls will soon be the same size.

It amazes me that they're sisters...being as different as they are.

Yet I think that may work to their advantage. helping to cement a solid relationship. where comparisons don't reign supreme.

I mean, who spends time comparing apples and oranges, right?

But one thing is most assuredly the same. I want to *squeeze* them both. Mm Mm, I love me some girls.

as God commanded him...

At this particular moment I am overwhelmed. by the *magnitude* of what God has set before me.

And when I say "magnitude"...I feel it's a slight understatement.

Okay, so it's a gross understatement.

For the completion of this new directive could (and most likely will) change the very landscape of life as my family and I know it.

Eh. small stuff, right? *picture me letting out a large breath*

I am unable to go into details at this point. but hopefully in 6 months or so, the entirety of the challenge will be near completion.

And we will be on the other side of this Pivotal Moment in time. (can I tell you how many times I've wished that I was already there? Seriously...probably 20 times a day)

For now, I just document. recording the fact that the gravity of this moment is catching up with me. and that I'm trying to find solid footing on which to steady myself...

before beginning the task I know I have been designed and equipped to accomplish since before Time began.

Oh Lord...Kumbaya

My girls love all things Worship. And will routinely lead it in our very own living room....

For all sorts of ragamuffin congregations.

These guys happen to be of the Esau lineage. Note the amount of body hair.

But regardless of how uncivilized they look, they come equipped with the Word.

The JIV version. That's Jungle International.

While The Little People preferred the easy stuff. quick read. lots of pictures.

Gang Disney preferred something a bit more challenging. King James Version. toddler style.

But these farm guys were a little more closed-minded. they liked their interpretation. and nothing else.

But really...what does it matter when you get to be lead in worship by this chic...

Tina Turner.

For some reason, I couldn't get Selah to wipe this look off her face.

It was like she was trying her hardest to look "sanctified".

and holy.

Though I'm thinking she looks more annoyed than anything.

Of course, how would you look if you were trying to lead a bunch of primates in Kumbaya?

As it should be.

The three oldest girls share a room.

It's 4am. All is quiet throughout the house. as it should be.

Except for a creaking of a bedroom door. I look up and see Charis standing out in the hallway. watching us. waiting to be invited in.

I tap Jet's back. No response.

I tap again. Nothing.

I tap harder. The man is in a coma.

I sigh and then...jab. Kung-fu style. And finally, I see movement.

"Oh good, you're awake. Charis... hallway."

Jet sits up and says something semi-intelligent. though obviously coherent enough for Charis to understand she'd been summoned to come closer.

I totally expected her to come in crying. telling us that she had had a bad dream. wanting Jet to hold her close, comfort her, and tuck her back into bed.

It seemed the only logical explanation. After all, it's happened at least three times in the past few weeks. Jet can handle it. He's done it often enough, he could do it in his sleep.

And probably has.

But Charis didn't sound upset. In fact, she didn't sound the slightest bit groggy...as she and Jet whispered a conversation too soft for me to distinguish.

Then she walks back to her room.

Well, that was easy, I thought. No tears. No emotional outburst. In fact, very little distinguishable noise.

Until

I hear Selah loudly saying something to Charis as she re-entered their bedroom. followed by a muffled Raegan.

"Are you kidding me? Are they all talking, Jet?! "

Throwing back the covers, Jet marches into their room and sets things right. Suddenly all is quiet. As it should be. Daddy has restored order once more.

Apparently, they were reading. in bed. with their flashlights. when Charis's battery went out.

And like anyone who wants to continue reading at FOUR A.M., she comes to our room. totally expecting us to get her a new battery.

Think again, Missy!

"They are so not having flashlights from now on!!" I mutter, throwing my face back into my pillow.

And the rest of the discussion was left unsaid. As it should be...since 4-am-brain isn't begging for deep conversations.

I fell back asleep... completely prepared to lay down the law in the morning. confiscating their flashlights. and books. and nerve brazen enough to wake us up at dark 0'thirty.

Only

The next morning dawned. and my children were no where to be seen.

Now grant it, they normally wake up around 8:00. (Yes, I've been blessed by their sleeping in late) But 8:00 came and went.

As well as 8:30. and 9:00. and 9:15...

Finally at NINE-THIRTY, they emerged from their bedrooms. foraging for food to eat.

And in that moment... that late late moment in the morning... I rethought my parental stance.

If you, my dear children, want to wake up at 4am and read the books we've so graciously provided for your educational enrichment...then by all means, knock yourself out.

Especially if that means you'll be knocked out until late morning. giving me the chance to *ahhhh* breathe before the mad rush of the morning ensues.

Making my morning nice and laid back. As it should be.

Mastering the concept.

Not too long back, I was fairly certain that Raegan didn't quite grasp the whole idea behind the potty.

Take note of its doubling as a toy box. housing all of her Fridge Phonics letters.

I mean, yeah...she knew to sit on it. and make the "pssss" sound.

But that's where the understanding seemed to end.

And I was good with that.

I figured Hey, I'm not really ready to go all Potty Commando. not with Lani still waking up in the middle of the night. and me homeschooling two girls. and trying to practice good hygiene. ALL while making sure my girls don't starve.

A mom has got to prioritize, right?

I figured by her Kindergarten year, I'd be all over it.

Except that Raegan has become quite the dangerous little toddler.... Being completely adept at removing all types of clothes, she has become our resident Houdini.

Couple that with the fact that she loves to be naked and you have nothing short of a toddler strip club.

AND when you take into account that she is also trying to potty train herself...and is now if full bootcamp mode... you have a disaster in the making.

For those of you that have not parented toddlers yet, I'd advise you look away. This may cause involuntary retching. Never a good thing.

For the rest of Club Parenthood, I'd imagine you'd just casually say "Uh-huh. Junior did that one too. 'Cept his was worse."

WELL...while the oldest girls of my small brood have been swooning over the Office of Marriage and all it entails, my third daughter has had her sights on other goals.


Unfortunately her aim ain't so good.

Yes. I did just post a picture of poop-gone-astray. I have resorted to becoming one of those parents. The kind of parent that naively thinks other people actually care about the intestinal products of their offspring.

But I'm not posting the picture of Naked Child, if that's any consolation. Does that redeem me?

Yeah, didn't think so.

So there you have it. The start of my day. Right there on the bathroom floor. All before 9AM.

Monkey Business. continued.

Update on the previous post (due to questions I've received).

Yes, that's exactly what was meant in the Little House episode. Charles was away on business. Another man was at their house building on an addition. Mrs. Olson was referring to that scenerio ... Thus, "Monkey Business" introduced to my little ones grid of "understanding".

Believe me, it took me off guard. I tried to distract them. talk loud over the TV conversation playing out on the screen before me. fast forward it a bit. anything to take their attention from the 5 seconds I would have rathered they not see.

But nope. the damage had been done. the seeds of curiousity planted. courtesy of Harriet and Nellie Olson.

AND

Since that last post, I've had a few readers email me. telling me about "God's design for Sex" series.

Bam. Bam. One email right after the other. Thanks guys! I will definitely be looking into that one!

For now, I must go get ready. For a playdate that I think I'd rather avoid if it wasn't for the mom. I LOVE her.

Oh Okay, so her children are amazing as well. Too amazing! For her oldest boy is the one that awakened all this "lovey dovey" stuff in the heart of my daughter.

She even made an "I love you" card. Pop Up style. I kid you not.

I tried to tell her as gently as possible that you don't just go around giving people those kinds of cards. because she doesn't even know him yet.

To which she promptly replied. "Well, I'll ask him all about himself today. and tell him all about myself. And then, I'll give him the card."

Well then. What's left to say? Let the playdate begin...

Stu.t.t.t.errr.ing my way through

Yep. Here we are again. Reporting to you from The Family Dinner Table. where all the action happens these days.

Charis: Mommy? What's "Monkey Business"?

Mommy: *Complete and Shocked Silence*

(Pull it together, girl. You can do this. Don't look too shocked. Kids can smell fear. ...Quick say something. Only don't make a big deal out of it. Breathe. In. Out. Good. Now open your mouth. Speak. Anything!)

I start to say something. I steady my voice. I feign confident and in-charge. and fail.

I stumble. I stuttered. I stop mid-sentence.

Jet, from across the table, put me out of my misery and finally speaks up: Well... you know Curious George?

Charis and Selah switch their gaze from me to him. and smile. Now Curious George, they get.

Jet: He's a monkey, right?

Charis and Selah: Yeah!!

Jet: And he's always getting into trouble. Right?

More emphatic nodding of the heads.

Jet: Well...that's what "monkey business" is. When people do things that get them into trouble.

Yeah. Right. Why didn't I think of that? When in doubt...revert to cartoon characters.

And for the record? Worked like a charm.

Now to rack my brain for any and all cartoon characters that could help me in the inevitable S*ex talk that is bound to happen any. day. now.

For those of you that are following this, can you even believe how fast this is snowballing?! Thank you, Jolanthe, for dropping off the inhaler. I just had my lung spasms under control. When this hit.

Got any Percocet?

*And no, we have not been hanging around the local bar. Cross my heart. That lovely little statement was heard on Little house on the Prairie. And yes, it was referring to 'messing around'. Is nothing safe to watch these days?!* :)

Uh, why do you ask?

*picture of Charis when she was around 2 years old.

I'm becoming more and more acutely aware of how fast my little girls are growing up. There are days where I'm positive that they've matured more than their allotted daily amount.

Take, for instance, the other day. Selah wanted to play "stories". This is a game that they've played for a while now. a game where they make up a story and play-act it out.

But Charis made sure to make one thing clear: "I don't play stories anymore."

Me: How come?
Charis: Because I don't. People change when they get older. And I. have. changed.

Well La Ti.

Of course, this new-found rule is null and void if the story has anything to do with marriage...

Charis: I don't know who the Lord has for me as a husband. but I told him that I want him to be handsome and kind. Like Daddy. ...and strong.

So precious. Though I have to wonder...does the little "strong" addendum mean that she thinks being strong is UNlike Daddy?

Time to hit the gym, Jet. *laughing*

But even though she talks of marriage often, I have to wonder how she interprets it, you know? What exactly does she think it means?

Though she's starting to give me small glimpses as to her thoughts on the subject...

Charis: "Do you hug Daddy?"
Me: Yes
Charis: Every night?
Me: Uh-huh.

Selah (interjecting from her side of the room): They do! I know...I've seen them!

Charis (after pausing and staring off into the distance asks): Well, do you kiss him?
Me (wondering where this was actually headed): Yes.
Charis: Every night?
Me: Uh...yeah.
Charis: Well, will you do it tonight?!
Me (smiling the biggest smile, trying not to laugh outright): "Um. Probably?"

I'm not sure how the conversation ended. though I think it pretty much stopped there. ThanktheLord.

She's 6! She seems so little to me. But then again, I think back to my 6 year old status, and I remember feeling So big.

I remember feeling like I knew "so much" about things I'm not ready to discuss with her yet.

Is it just me or has Charis grown up on me?!! All in the span of a week and a half.

Be forewarned. One of my next post may very well include The Big Question Exchange. the one where she asks "Exactly how babies get in a mommy's belly".

Starting. to. hyperventilate. Must. go. lay. down.

Preparing to... downsize?

Picture it.

The dinner table....peacefully eating a casserole when all of the sudden Mommy asks the kids a question.

"So guys, what would you think if we adopted someone one day?"

Blank stares. No reply. In fact, no response of any kind. though an eye might have twitched, but I can't be too sure.

Okay. let's try a different approach, shall we?.... "Do you remember what adoption is?"

Selah, with her elbow on the table, hand cupping her chin, didn't hesitate, as she nonchalantly answered.

"That's where you and Daddy give one of us away to another family."

Uh. *mind reeling for something intelligent to say* NO!!

This leaves Charis in tears, as she declares she doesn't want to be the one we give away. She doesn't want have another mommy. She wants to stay...*sob*....right....*sob*....here.

*insert her running to my lap and throwing herself in my arms*

Yup. We have dinner conversations like that. Openly asking our children how they'd feel if we suddenly up and gave them away.

Bless their sweet little hearts.

And for the record, we did, in fact, clarify the heart of our adoption question. Though I'm quite sure we'd done that before.

Note to self: Proceed carefully when use the "A" word.

Protecting the Innocent

Driving the 20 minutes home from my parent's house on Christmas Eve, my mind wandered to a place that's become all too familiar. At least recently.

The thought that somewhere, most likely within arm's reach of me right now, there are children who are not having a Merry Christmas. Nor the hope of one...

And I don't mean because of the lack of presents. Though yes, I'm sure that's their reality as well. But whose holidays, as well as the normal days, are filled with abuse...

A few weeks ago, as my girls danced around the living room, I was immediately struck with how peaceful our home is. and how some children never experience the atmosphere that our girls have come to expect as the norm.

The knowledge that there are children's lives who mirror something akin to a horror movie, on a daily basis... well, it haunts me.

And it is there that my mind locks. My brain becomes almost paralyzed to move past the thought of child abuse. and the accompanying images.

Truly, there are times that I get so overwhelmed with the thoughts that I literally have to make myself think on something else; those images being so uncomfortable to face.

But seriously? the irony in that statement disgusts me...

Facing the thought of a child being abused is uncomfortable to me?! Yet...what about a little girl facing the fist/temper/sexual advances of an enraged adult? What about her comfort level?

I've always had a soft heart for children. Even as a child, I was never one of the mean-spirited kids. I hated injustice and took up for the underdog.

And being a parent has only cemented that in me. For I think "What if my Selah had been born to someone else? What if she had been born into a family that molested her?"

And something in me rises up and says "Oh no you didn't!" I am literally gripped with an overwhelming desire to gather those children into my home. protect them. embrace them. and show that real love doesn't hurt.

Of course, only after stringing up those abusers by...whatever body part I can get a hold of.

Look, I'm just being honest here. I have very little tolerance for people who prey and/or hurt children. Innocent children. Children I may never meet, but who's silent cries literally pierce my heart.

And I'm left to wonder...where do I go from here?

Yes, I realize there are many "obvious" answers. Go adopt. Do foster care. Save one life at a time.

And while Jet and I commend those things and have discussed pursuing them... I honestly don't know what the Lord is asking of us at this moment. I don't want to start in the direction of something "good"...when there may be something "greater" in a little bit of a different direction.

Something that maybe only could originate in the heart of God. not in the mind of social services.

Please don't read me wrong. Don't send me emails saying how you think I'm dissing adoption. I'm not. My sister was adopted. For all intents and purposes, so was my dad. A lot of my childhood friends were....as well as the friends of my own children. I'm surrounded by the beauty of adoption...and love everything about the heart behind it.

But because my very being has suddenly become so violently plagued by these images, thoughts, and feelings, I want to know God specific purpose behind it. What is he asking of me? What exactly is he trying to stir up in me? What vision is he planting?

Do we become political advocates? use the connections we have around the world and stir up ...something?

Do we uproot our family and move to help start some care center on the other side of the globe?

Do we...? I have no clue. But I know something it stirring....

**While I was going to post some images to accompany my thoughts, for whatever reason I couldn't get the photos to cooperate. But...if you want something to grip your heart, go to this site. In fact, go to this site even if you don't feel like it. Their pictures say it all. And I think it's about time we all take notice of what's happening to the little ones. behind closed doors.

www.dreamcatchersforabusedchildren.com/

Learning about life. Disney style.

Mesmerized. There's no other way to describe it.

And while I'm sure you're thinking that my compelling homeschool lecture was what held her unfaltering attention...sadly, it was not.

Disney Princesses. That is what caused the glazed-over look of love.

The girls had asked me what Ariel's voice sounded like. Uh? Picture me trying to decide if I actually try and sing a Little Mermaid ditty.

I did. ...picture Charis with a blank expression of "For real?!"

So I did what any mother struggling to keep her sanity would do. I Youtubed "The Little Mermaid".

As you can see, she was completely captivated.

But I was not. I was getting increasingly nervous. You see, I had never really listened to the lyrics of the song we happened to be listening to at the time...

"Yes, you want her. Look at her, you know you do. Possible she wants you too. There is one way to ask her. It don't take a word...Not a single word. Go on and kiss the girl"

Did you realize he was saying that?!! It goes on to say what a shame it is that he may miss out on kissing the girl. figuring out if he likes her or not.

Dear. Lord. Jesus.

Watching my starry-eyed SIX year old listening to these lyrics while not even batting an eye, it took everything in me to not yell:

"Alright. Enough TV for now. In fact, we're officially banning all things princess from our home. until your older. Married, preferably."


But as you can see from her choice of outfit, I'd have to ban everything she's currently into. And really, who wasn't starry eyed over princesses when they were little?

In fact, even her artwork has recently changed. She's gone from drawing pictures of animals and family members to this:

Catch that penmanship?

"Let your dreams sing. Princess dreams come true."

Oh Jesus...help. How do I adequately explain that nothing about those stories comes close to reality?? Well... there may be seven short little men who are hiding away in the woods. But you know...except for that. *shrug*

That little exchanged happened a few days ago. Then yesterday...our family room looked like this:

Young women lined up. like cattle. awaiting to see who would be lucky enough to get picked as a wife.

By none other than Brother Bear. Who knew he was the Mac Daddy?

You should have heard the conversations those Ladies in Waiting were having with each other. I didn't know whether to laugh or intervene.

"She'll never get picked. because she's naked!!" was, in fact, one of the statements made...

I consoled myself by acknowledging they weren't saying she would get picked because she was naked. I'm so not ready for that conversation yet.

For the record, my dear husband thought the whole thing was hilarious. ;)

Of course, he was sitting safely behind his desk while this M*ail O*rder B*ride theme was taking place in the middle of our homeschooling day.

Um. What do you think, Experienced Homeschooling Mommas? This counts towards HomeEc credits. Right? ;)

More of that heavenly Favor

Last month I posted how God was challenging us to trust him financially...and then we were hit with a $613 electric bill. (plus a bunch of other financial things all at once)

That number still sends me reeling.

We called the town and said that it couldn't possibly be right because it was more than double the highest bill we've ever had. So they sent two men out to re-check it. And their response?

"It's not only correct, but you are well on our way to having to pay another bill like it next month."

Are you kidding me?!! because seriously, I'm like the Amish when it comes to using electricity. at least during the day.

We have over a dozen 5-ft windows in our downstairs alone. So natural light it is. Until 5:30. THEN, lights can be turned on.

I don't even use my dryer on a normal basis. instead opting to hang up the clothes on a rack that I set over the heating grate.

See? my cloth diapers hanging "out" to dry.


So ALLLL that to say, we just got our electric bill last week. Drum roll pa-lease.....

$34.12

Now THAT'S what I'm talkin' 'bout! Obviously the town conceded and fixed their mistake. You know, the one they refused to admit in the first place.

Why or how they came to the decision to first, acknowledge the mistake and second, to fix it is beyond me. Because we all know they didn't have to!! They could have easily just swept their error under the rug and moved on.

But they didn't.

and though I will never know the ins and outs of the behind-the-scenes, I'm just chalking it up as favor of God. The Only One who can move on the hearts of men to do what's right.

Ready or not...

I knew it was bound to happen sooner or later. Afterall, it appears to be par for the course of growing up. Heck, sometimes it seems to be the unfortunate fate of interacting with certain adults.

But oh, how I wasn't prepared for it to happen to one of my daughters. Not yet anyhow.

A few nights ago, one of my girls came up and asked me simple question. A question I didn't realize came loaded with a Self-Confidence hanging in the balance.

For what I thought was a random question about herself ended up being the source of a deep hurt that she had experienced a week prior.

A week!

For at least seven days she had been processing a comment made by friends about herself. processing. questioning. hurting. All silently. Until she asked me The Question.

and then a flood of little girl sobs came rushing out... not understanding why someone would say what they did. not knowing how to process this new found introduction to the Enemy's most favorite tool: Ridicule.

For the next 30 minutes, Daddy and Mommy tried to give her a speed-readers course for How to Survive the World and Still Have Self Esteem. for elementary school kids.

But I'm thinking we may have failed. at least I know I feel like I did.

I'm finding as a parent that I want my children to be likable. (I think most any parent would own up to that one.) to somehow equip them to bypass all the hurt feelings that we went through as children. to supernaturally give them a 30 year old's confidence so that when faced with a situation like this, they can respond maturely.

...as in knowing that in the greater scheme of life, being called "four eyes" doesn't really matter. Afterall, you'll get contacts in highschool.

Only they aren't mature. They're four. and six.

and are completely incapable of pretending that words don't hurt. because suddenly they set you face to face with the harsh truth: not everyone will like you.

And even when they do, they still may point out things about you that stand out as odd. annoying. or less than.

Like the size of your feet or booty. The color of your hair or skin. The shape of your nose or your smile. The sound of your singing voice or name...

In the world of Kid, everything and anything is game for pointed jokes. And no one is outside the realm of "Target Practice" when there are words to be thrown.

I survived middle school. (personally, I think this should be a bumper sticker) I prevailed over the teen years. And though hurt by many careless words, I exited Adolescence with a relatively strong self-esteem.

But then I had kids.

and I'm finding that I am feeling the same feelings all over again. as I watch them enter the years where name-calling and body bashing is the norm. I want to take them and hold them in my arms, protecting them from words that may hurt.

But I know I can't. ...what a sad sad revelation. because everything in me fights to make sure they go unharmed, you know?

Yet. I realize all I can do is build up their confidence while I still hold the fleeting title of "Smartest Person in the World". to diligently instill in them the Truth that the Hand of God took special care to design their little person.

Whoever said "Sticks and Stones may break your bones, but words will never hurt you" needs to be horse-whipped. Because it's just. not. true.

God give me grace as my girls enter into this stage of life. I just don't feel ready.

One more round

You know that Barlow Girl's song? Even though I know they didn't intend it to be a song about sickness, I'm feeling like it's become my theme song of late as we continue to battle all sorts of variations illness.

"Round one wasn't what I thought it'd be
Round two I'm struggling to breathe..."


And that's exactly what my little Lani is experiencing this week: The struggle to breathe.

I know a lot of people go the snot sucker bulb thingy route. But I've found something that works a lot better.  Use salt nasal spray. or breastmilk, if you are someone who has excess enough to *squirt* it in their nose.

Yes. totally serious. Just think Water Gun. with a slightly more personal, um... tool.

I've found that after I spray the stuff up the snot-clogged nostrils, my little ones will sneeze within minutes. effectively shooting all the "stuff" out.  Which, for me, is SO much better than trying to tackle my children to the ground so I can extract gunk from their nose.

Only thing to be careful of... when using the salt spray, make sure to NOT stop squeezing the bottle until AFTER you're away from their face. that way you're not actually sucking up the mucus into the bottle.