Sick Sadie

My family is healthy. We eat decently, everyone works out (except for me) and I am not a freakazoid about germs. While I think it is pertinent to wash hands, I don't spaz out about dirtiness in general, believing that it helps build the immune system, etc. For the past several years the only visits we would have to the doctor were for well-checks. The only exception would be one ear infection a year for Sadie.

However, since November, the entire picture above has slowly disintegrated. Not the good eating habits and working out, but the "my family is healthy" statement. To be very specific, Sadie continually says, "Mom, I don't feel well." This declaration is usually followed-up by one of the following, "My head hurts. My stomach hurts. My throat hurts. My ear hurts."

I do not have the gift of mercy. Unless my child is bleeding, vomiting or having a fever, I tell them I am sorry and deal with it. Therefore, much of the time I ignore her statements until I have had enough of them and finally take her to the doctor's more out of frustration than concern. We have been to the doctor's office monthly since November.

This last trip did not yield any diagnosis except that her body is just run down. Lots of different viruses have been floating around - some with fevers, some without. The slight chance of mono was mentioned by the doctor, but even I could deduce that was not likely. The child had just completed 9 swim events - all strokes in 50s and 100s, plus the 100 IM without a complete collapse which I would have expected had she been dealing with mono.

I have tracked when and under what circumstances she makes these statements. They do not seem to be related to school, eating, sleeping, swimming. Nothing. In fact, the more I sensed her health spiraling downward, the more I clamped down on unhealthy snacks and pushed for earlier bedtime. Didn't work.

On Sunday night Sadie, once again, began her thrice weekly mantra, "Mom, I don't feel well." I brushed it off, as she had a swim meet this past weekend. A tired body might interpreted as sickness in her mind. Monday morning, the same phrase was repeated and I heard it again Monday after school. I just kept moving her along her normal routine of the day. Basically, I ignored her.

We ended up at swim practice. She got right into the pool and appeared quite focused. I went to sit outside where I could see, but not really hear what was going on in practice. I noticed she really wasn't fully performing what was being asked of her. Her kicks were quite pathetic and she lagged behind the other swimmers. About a 45 minutes into practice, I saw her sitting on the side of the pool with her towel around her. She started to lay down. I could feel my ire rising. I am not paying for her to interchange putting forth effort and slacking whenever she just feels like it.

She collected her things and walked outside to where I was sitting. I took her to the side and asked her what was going on. Her usual reply, "Mom, I don't feel well." I sadly decided to parent ala Jim Pierce and said the following, "Sadie, I have had enough of this constant 'I don't feel well mess.' Do you want to be #1 this summer?" She said, "Yes." I said, "Then get back in that pool and work hard. You are at one level and Coach Rob is trying to take you to the next level. It might be hard, but it is time to get your heiny in that pool and work. Now go ... and I don't want to hear anything else out of you." With that she walked back to the pool and according to her coach, worked hard the remaining time.

On the way home, I felt pretty darn good about my parenting. I held my ground. I stated my case and it appeared to be well-received. I deserved a little pat on the back.

At 7:15 pm, I found Sadie asleep with the dog on the dog bed. At 10:00 pm, she called me, weakly from her room asking me to help her. I walked upstairs, took one look at her and knew...she was sick. Those fiery red lips, little pea eyes and a body that felt on fire.

Yup. Chalk another great mothering moment up for me. Nice one, God. I say that without a hint of sarcasm and with complete submission. Clearly, my perspective on my 8 year old daughter, her "swimming career," and my belief that I had some control over either had grown ridiculously out of whack.

As a follow-up, I did take her to the doctor today. Everything major has been ruled out, including mono. The doctor was in agreement that all this sickness has just about been enough. A course of major antibiotics and no swimming for at least a week was the order.

Needs

It is Friday morning. I have asked several times for Sadie to get her hair brushed. Normally, this isn't an issue for her. Sometime during the summer the light bulb turned on in the personal hygiene department. At least in the visual department of personal hygiene; we are still working on the non-visual like bad breeth and teeth. Brushing her hair is outward, readily seen and relevant to her.

Anyway, this was our conversation:

Me: Sadie, You need to have your hair brushed.
Sadie: I don't need to have it brushed.
Me: Yes, Sadie, you need to brush it. It is looking ratty.
Sadie: No, I don't need anything. I only need God.
And she flashes me that little smirk as she slips into my bathroom for a hairbrush.

Small Victories

I think parenting is all about living for the small victories. Let's face it, our kids are never going to behave the way we would prefer all the time. So, I believe God throws us these bones to keep us going in this predictably failing pursuit.

Small Victory #1: Yesterday, I wrote about my precious little girl's "shout out" to me at the door of our carpoolers. I had fully planned an "intense" discussion about this lovely sign of respect after she returned from school. Swim practice prevented that immediate discussion, which was a God designed delay. Upon returning home, kids were scattered in all directions putting up bags, taking showers, etc. However, Sadie found me,alone, putting away some laundry and said, "Hey Mom?" "You know when I shouted at you from the car this morning? Well, I am really sorry. That was really bad of me. Will you forgive me?" Sweet Jesus, thank you for the encouragement that my child does recognize the tone of Satan when it spews forth from her mouth.

Small Victory #2: After picking up kids from school today, my precious oldest one decided that I have failed him miserably by only allowing "healthy" snacks after school. He decided to repeatedly ask me for packaged chips that are 1) only allowed for school lunches and 2) not to be asked for as an after school snack. Oh, what a terrible mother am I, I heard. Why, oh why was he sent to THIS family. Woe. Woe. Woe is him. Topping off this endearing scenario was his attempt to parent my youngest on how she never closes doors. Instructing him to take a step back from this endeavor, he refused to zip it and began to belittle her. I sent him up to his room for an attitude adjustment. A mere 10 minutes later, I heard a little quiet voice asking to come out of his room. Yes, I responded. He came barreling into my room, his face scrunched up, tears in his eyes. Quite pathetic actually. I thought, "Oh no, here we go again...those blasted chips." Instead, this is what I got, "Mommy, I am so sorry for being mean to you. I just can't do that anymore. Will you forgive me?" With that, he started sobbing. I know I had to look like I won the lottery, stunned and thrilled all at the same time.

Small victories, people. Small victories will see us through.

A battle of self-control

Sadie, you ripped off a tiny chunk of me this morning. It is Monday morning, the beginning of a new week and already I feel a little less of a mother.

A forgotten vocabulary test is what was the catalyst. Struggling to hastily review 16 words was frustrating to you - words like accessible, imperative, effigy. You vacillated between feeling confident of your knowledge and throwing the papers across the room. Our carpoolers arrived. You had a moment of freakout as study time was over. Tears prevented you from heading out the door as you would never allow a friend to see that you had cried. I urged you on. You slowly, in defiance, walked to the door.

I watched from the closet window to make sure your transition to their car was an easy one. I watched you stand at the open car door, much longer than you should. I saw the carpool mom talking to you, turned from the driver's seat. You were not getting into the car. Your mouth was moving, but not your body.

I walked to the front door, opened it and shouted to you, "Sadie, get in the car." You turned to me, and screamed, "I AM!!!!" hurling all of the frustrations of the morning back to me. It was the pinnacle of disrespect and lack of self-control. Had I not been in a thin pair of pajamas, no shoes and yesterday's mascara hanging out under my eyes, I would have run out the door and to quote my own parents, "Jerked a knot in you."

Lord, I pray that one day your impulsivity will not cause you to lose your best friend, get you fired from your job, or worse, land in jail. Or maybe, I should be praying that one day, your impulsivity will not cause me to lose my own self-control.

End of Winter Update

The turn of winter into spring - at least on the calendar - never fails to stir in me a fervent desire to travel. It happens every year. We have had one of the coldest, seemingly longest, snowiest winters I can recall in my lifetime. Statistics probably prove otherwise, but for someone who gags when she is overly cold, this winter has been the pits. March, only a days away, signifies spring to me, whether the biting winter winds have died down or not. It is also time to start putting away the heaviest of winter clothes - the corduroy, the velvet, the wools, etc.

In previous years, March drove me to the streets. I felt like a caged wild cat, needing to get out, explore, anything for a change to the daily grind. I would hit the road with the kids, heading to the beach or to catch up with friends. Many times it was in tandem with my sister. Now that all the kids are in school, it makes the possibility pretty slim. And, with all that is going on with the business, it is not the time to "get away." My heart still pines for the warmth of the sunshine and change of scenery. I guess I will just have to settle on traveling 2 hours east for the kids' last swim meet of the season in Raleigh. The warmth will have to come from the humidity of the indoor pool.

I write this post on the heels of Jay's return to our home. He was away for 11 days for work. The kids were really out of sorts with him being gone. In the end, I was weary from consoling little children and wiping crocodile tears. I had to deal with some behavioral situations with Sadie, a crick in the neck with Lily and a weekend I had planned on being out of town since November, the logistics of which were quite ridiculous. However, I have found the most wonderful retreat for scrapbookers or any women wanting to get away. Whispering Winds. Simply divine!

Today was special because Sadie was baptized today. It was a sweet time of celebration. So many of our friends and family came to show their support. Throughout the service, she kept asking when was it going to be time. In her videotaped testimony, she said that the reason that she decided to get baptized was that she wanted everyone to know that she loves Jesus, the He is her Savior and that He is her Lord. She also talked about how Ethan led her to Jesus. It was a very special moment for our family.

Jay was asked to say a few words and here is what he said:

Ten years ago, Kelsey and I were baptized on the same Sunday in this church. It took us a lot longer to decide what you have already done in your short 8 years, Sadie. We are so proud of the choice you have made today. On your own, you have chosen to proclaim to your family, friends, and church that Jesus Christ is Lord of your life. Sadie, this is not the pinnacle of your journey with God. This is just another step that deepens your commitment to living out a Christ-centered life. We pray that you will continue to call upon Him in your time of need, that you will praise Him in the triumphs and in the defeats, and that you will understand that nothing surpasses knowing Him and being loved by Him.

I would like to close with this promise: Psalm 91:9-11
9 If you make the Most High your dwelling—
even the LORD, who is my refuge-
10 then no harm will befall you,
no disaster will come near your tent.
11 For he will command his angels concerning you
to guard you in all your ways;

We finished the day with a lunch at our house, adding in a birthday celebration for my grandmother - 84!

I was checking the kids' Friday school folders this evening. Sorting through the papers, I realized how much my youngest is growing this year. Adding numbers, writing little sentences like, "I like to ski."

Slow down! I wanted to scream, "Slow down clock. You make me very uneasy." And then, just as I needed it, like a director said, "ACTION!" Lily came prancing into my room, her hair a little unkempt and scraggly, wearing unmatching pajamas, requesting a "Lily sandwich" from her parents. She still needs me. Just reassuring to know.

Amazing Feats

Sadie, who had been tucked into bed for 15 minutes, came into my bedroom holding a piece of paper. The paper was from her notepad of blue paper with little gray and white kittens on the bottom.

"Mom," she said, "I made you my grocery list." My eyes got a little wider and I said, "Ok."

She bent over to me and shared her neat little list which was numbered. My guess is that she felt the need to "go over it" with me to ensure there were no mistakes.

The list was entitled, "Sadie's grocries" (that is not my typo, nor are any following this - it is how Sadie wrote it)

1. Get pulups,
2. orange juice,
3. seedless oranges,
4. Green apples,
5. strawberrys
6. blueberrys, and
7. fabreeze for bathroom

Type A? Undoubtedly. Clear, concise, detailed and numbered. She just amazes me sometimes. It is a list that exhibits healthy eating habits and concerns about personal hygiene. I am not quite sure about #7, but at least she wants things smelling good. The vast and ever-changing worlds in which this child vacillates...so unpredictable. Guess I am going to the store tomorrow!

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Less than a year ago, we joined the YWCA in order to spend some family time together swimming during the cold-ish NC winter months. The kids weren't what I would call even "decent" swimmers. Neither Ethan nor Sadie could swim the length of the pool doing any legal stroke, their stroke a loosely defined doggy paddle. I think, Sadie, the first time, even used a swim belt (more out of our fear than probably her need). Nevertheless, the were not secure in the water at all.

Today, after 8 months of swim team/practice, Ethan had a chance to swim with the next level of swimmers at our practice site. He swam a total of 60 laps in the pool; that is the equivalent to 1500 yards, just 10 shy of a mile. He swam sets of butterfly, breast, free and back throughout the practice. Amazing what their bodies can learn and can achieve. It was a shining moment for him, I think. His coach was really proud of his focus and desire to work hard. We have come a long, long way in a year.

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There have been some hard and difficult issues that one of my children has had to face at school. Children, including one of my own, have been the target of name calling, inappropriate behavior and physical interactions that are quite below acceptable. My concern is for my child, but on equal footing, my heart is tender towards the child who is the perpetrator and his parents.

My own views of child rearing have drastically changed over the last 9 years. How funny to think I actually believed I could control and force the desired behavior of my children. I know that is why God gave me the three He did - so unique in their personalities, in talents, in love languages. My job is to guide, teach, correct and love them. It is their choice whether to obey or not. Guiding is my role, the rest is left them and God. It is not a reflection of me as a person, as a parent. It is a picture of their relationship with God.

We, as adults, live exactly the same way. God guides, teaches, corrects us, all the while never wavering in His love for us. However, we turn away from Him daily, even when we know better. If we can't always have it together, why in the world do I think my children can? Sometimes I feign disbelief over some of their unfathomable choices, but really, I shouldn't. It is just their natural tendency to wander from the One that love them most.

My prayers these days are not for perfectly listening, well-behaved, obedient little robots - although wouldn't that be nice? It is for them to have their hearts tuned into God. For them to develop into the perfectly unique and spirit controlled beings that long for Him. I can see the difference in their lives, little bit by little bit. The apologies are more readily offered, initiated from within their hearts. The voice is humble and sincere. The desire to change flows from their souls.

The fighting, the lack of respect, the sassy backtalk, the whining, the blatant disobedience will never completely go away. Lessen, hopefully, but sure to cycle round again. God has called me to be a mom and at those times I cry out to Him, "Who am I?" as Moses did in Exodus. In those hours of doubt, stress, confusion, disappointment and utter defeat, I will remember God's response: "I will be with you."

Too Much Going On...

Swim meet this past weekend in South Carolina. Ski weekend coming up at Sugar Mountain. Need new health insurance plan for the business - must investigate this week. Too much going on.

Kids put on a good show at the meet. Sadie willed herself to finish her first 100 butterfly. She panicked a bit before the race, but I just shuffled her along to Rob who pumped her up. She started crying toward the end of the first 50, but pushed on, I am sure, because of a great deck parent cheering her on. At the turn of the 75, she saw the light. With about 15 to go she actually surged ahead with a little power. As she touched the final wall, you could hear the crowd was really behind her. Her coach pulled her out of the pool and lavished a lot of praise. She discovered that she loves a cheering crowd, but who doesn't? During this meet, I think she found a new love though - the breast stroke.

Ethan had a great Saturday with his technique (according to the coach) and a Sunday full of dropped times. He is so funny about swimming. He really likes it, but seems totally unphased by what others are doing. He just works along, pretty steady, content with his improvement.

I love the group of families that we swim with. If you are going to spend three days a week and a weekend a month with a group of people, this is it. And, Bob, if you are reading this, I include Jones family in that group.

Jay had Lily duty and despite the fact that he did not brush her hair the entire weekend, he did well. They took long naps, watched movies, did a few errands. She didn't cry this time when I left which means that she had every one of her heart's desires met while I was gone the last swim meet. Detox time.

Health plan at work decided to go up 30%. They have been terrible from the start. I am still fighting coverage on my MRI, recommended by every doctor and paid for by every other insurance plan. I am also fighting their charge for our H1N1 shots despite the fact that every other insurance company is paying for that administration as well. Now, I must tackle the daunting task of investigating our options. Sometimes, small business stinks.

Planning for Sugar Mountain and skiing this weekend with another family. Totally unprepared. At least we have the right clothes, but everything else is left to be decided. Now, Jay wants to go up on Friday morning so we can make the afternoon session. I sit here wondering...do I really even like skiing? Debatable. At least it is good family time.

An Overlooked Heart

I think it is fair to say that as a general rule, anyone who has met my Sadie doesn't easily forget her. Sometimes it is positive, and sometimes it isn't. Either way, she is compelling and intriguing, I think. Smart, crazy, tough, athletic, artistic, creative, curious, motivated, impulsive. Did I say crazy? But, the one thing that often goes unnoticed is her sensitivity. Even I, as her mother, often believe she is tougher than the reality of what is churning in her little heart.

Two recent events have opened my eyes to something I often overlook in my second child.

The first happened on New Year's Eve. Actually the ball start rolling a day earlier at swim practice; the ball became a destructive force the day after. This is the time of year when her swim coach sits down with each of the kids to assess their progress and revise goals for the year. Sadie's great love is swimming. She discovered it this summer and hasn't stopped since. She begs for more and more and now practices three afternoons a week. Sadie is a good swimmer with the potential to be a great swimmer. Her coach believes that her body was made for swimming the butterfly and in time the possibilities are there. Right now, however, is another story. Is she at the top of her age division? Hardly. But, her perception is that she is a much faster swimmer than reality. Her coach, understandably, wants to start bridging the gap between what goes on at practice with what goes on at meets. He wants the kids to be more aware of their times in each event and concentrate on what their bodies are doing in the water to improve their times. Therefore, he encouraged Sadie to ask me to show her her times.

I was not receptive to this idea. She is 8. This should all be about fun, right? I tell the kids when they have dropped or gained time, but they are not given information on their standings in comparison to others or how close they are to their first standard, which is called a "B" time. I don't want them to have that pressure, yet. I never viewed it as a matter of incentive, really, and certainly never thought through her possible reaction to this full disclosure. Yet, I still questioned the coach about this, and he assured me she was ready. It would be a great motivator for Sadie, who is a very "tough kid."

Forward to New Year's Eve. Right after lunch Sadie came to me and asked me to show her her times. They are all on the computer so we sat down on the bed and I began. "Here is your time." I said. "And what is the B time?" Sadie responded. "Ummm, well, here." I said. Her eyes opened wide. "What about my other events?" I showed her each of the comparisons. Her face scrunched up, the tears welled up in her eyes and she shouted, "I am horrible at swimming. I am never going to swim again!" She flung herself on the bed. Whoa - I was not expecting this severe reaction at all. Where was my tough Sadie, the one who always let things roll off her back? I spent the next 4+ hours dealing with wailing, frustration, and as much depression as an 8 year old can muster. I was pretty ticked with her coach for pushing this issue. I used every bit of reasoning and information I had. Yet, nothing changed the utter devastation that showed on her face, mirroring what her heart was feeling.

Finally, in the car outside of the restaurant where we were to meet 20 other people for dinner, I said, "Sadie, why did you choose to swim?" Her response, "Because I love it and I love how I feel strong in the water." "Well, that hasn't changed because of your times. That is all I am going to say about it. You need to decide what you want to do and let me know." I answered. About halfway through dinner, Sadie came over to me and said, "Mom, I need to tell you something. I have decided I am still going to swim." I said, "Ok. Great." Relief.

As a side note, at the next practice, Sadie was more focused and determined. Maybe her coach knew something after all. Sorry, Coach Rob. Good thing I couldn't find your cell number on New Year's Eve.

The second incident happened yesterday. Sadie has never stayed dry at night. Ever. Every year at the pediatrician's office we ask about this. The answer is always, "We're not worried; she will grow out of it." We have always believed that her inability to stay dry is because Sadie is an incredibly deep sleeper. Sadie sleeps like the dead. You cannot wake her up. We have offered up every incentive for a dry night, including a much coveted American Girl doll. We have also doled out some verbal warnings and minor discipline. We have tried all types of devices to help her, including a special alarm that goes off when it detects wetness. The buzz is supposed to train your brain to recognize the signal it is receiving from your body. Unfortunately, Sadie just sleeps through the alarm. We tried having her sleep in our room so that I could get to her by the time the alarm buzzed. The result was that alarm went off, I walked a still sleeping Sadie to the bathroom, while she peed on the floor the entire way. She never woke up.

At her last check-up, I firmly stated that I didn't feel comfortable "waiting for her to grow out of it" anymore. At 8 years-old, she is embarrassed by this fact, going to great lengths to hide it. Sleepovers are becoming more frequent and she is terrified that someone will make fun of her. Therefore, the doctor made us an appointment with an urologist. We had this appointment yesterday.

It didn't take long for the doctor to strongly believe that Sadie has some "bladder malfunction." One reason is that even after urinating, she still had 4-5 oz of urine in her bladder. Our other answers to his questions continued to confirm that there are some physical problems, completely out of her control. In addition, the stress of not being able to control her bladder has probably created another set of problems. Our next step is a series of tests this coming Thursday. He went through some details of what this would mean to Sadie and said that it shouldn't hurt, despite his use of the word, "catheter". Sadie seemed to be taking it all in stride. In fact, she even announced that she was "happy" because she would be able to get rid of the pull-ups. We left the appointment and I dropped her off at school without another thought. What a tough girl, right?

When I arrived at school to pick up the kids, I immediately recognized that something was not right with Sadie. Anguish, fear and a bit of panic was on her face. Evidently, her mind had been fixated on these tests. Mentally, she had worked herself into a paranoid frenzy. She was starting to break down in tears so we quickly walked to the car. When we got home, she ran to my room, and began to cry. She refused to talk to me about it and after about 20 minutes fell asleep. I know that the emotional trauma of the "unknown test" had wiped her out physically. Even when she woke up, she continued to cry and refuse to talk to me about it, claiming she was too embarrassed. Her only real answer to me was that she was not going to have the tests done. With enough coaxing, a discussion of my own encounters with medical tests and then a girls' trip to Starbucks after dinner, she opened up about her fears which we addressed. She felt relief and more at peace with Thursday.

My tough Sadie, is really not that tough at all. I make that statement not using a haughty, bullying sort of tone. I make that statement with enlightenment and understanding. I have often dismissed her heart because she is so very tough physically and seemed to let the difficulties of life bounce around her exterior, not penetrating her skin. Instead, she internalizes her deepest emotions and fears, squashing them deep down to fester and worry her. When younger, Sadie could be outlandish in her communications. Always to the extreme ends of the spectrum - crazy exuberance to the most horrific tantrums and fits. In my desire to teach her moderation and appropriateness, I am sure I magnified to these innate inclinations in her.

I also learned that Sadie has a difficult time talking about matters of the heart. She often uses the word "embarrassing." It is natural to me that she should view me as the one person on this earth that she can talk to about anything without shame. Rather, it appears I might be the most difficult one. I spent a large amount of our time at Starbucks and in the car ride affirming my role as her confidant. Her response and new-found willingness melted my heart.

Although the swimming incident and this doctor visit were two very trying and emotional situations to handle, I thank God for allowing me this insight into my child. I can build the foundation for our communication now so hopefully, the teenage years will have something from which to work. I will no longer overlook her tough, yet sensitive little heart.

I love you, Sadie. With all of my heart, I love you.

The Saga Continues

STOP! Before reading further you must have read this entry:

My Cupholder Runneth Over as well as snippets from this entry and the very end of this one.


So, I start loading some things into the trunk of my car this morning after the kids had left for school. Just some things I needed to return to their owners. Imagine what I find! Why, lookie there, it is the kids' swim bag. The swim bag they last used 5 DAYS AGO, still sitting in the trunk of my car, filled to the brim with wet towels, suits, etc. Guess what today is? Swim practice day. Guess who doesn't have anything to wear but stinky swimsuits and nothing to dry their bodies' off with but damp moldy towels??!?! Guess who is learning a lesson... TODAY!!!

Ok, I admit it. I am not nearly as terrible as my bite. As much as I wanted to show up with nothing or the filth bag, I didn't. My reasoning was 1) we pay too much for these lessons for my kids not to swim and 2) a big swim meet is only two weeks away and my kids need all the practice they can get. I know, I am weak and my excuses are flimsy.

I had just enough time to throw the pungent contents of the bag, less the new sham-wow type swim towel, into the wash. I grabbed some extra towels upstairs and some sweats from the recently folded laundry and headed out the door with freshly smelling swim suits.

I did have one more thing up my sleeve, however. Once the kids got in the car from school, I pretended, just for a little bit that I did not take care of the bag. They thought they had nothing to wear except for nastiness. I saw shock, disbelief and this question came out of their mouths, "Mom, what are we going to do?"

My reply: Get your gear out of the car every time. Now, look in the back and get your swim bag; it has clean clothes in it.

It was nice tonight to see each child bring in their back pack, lunch box, swim bag, clothes, etc. We are making some progress.

My cupholders runneth over

I have had lots of "my-mini-van-could-be-condemned-because-of-its-filth" sagas including a mouse that lived in it for several weeks, many milk, juice, and tea spills, a multitude of bodily function explosions, filth, trash, etc. I have tried to keep the car clean, honestly. But being in constant use with three kids plus on a near daily basis, it is what it is. I remember Jay having a fit about the state of my car one day and then I took a look at his - four verses one. No contest.

Recently, however, I knew I reached a new level when my son started making apologies to his friends when they came into our car. I also knew it had reached epic proportions when another mom said that Sadie went on and on about how clean their car was when she rode in it. I think my two oldest finally understand why we want a clean car.

So, there was a stink in the car for a couple of weeks. A stinky, musty odoriferous gag-inducing ick. No child could discover the source despite repeated request by me to search every corner and crevice. Finally, after gagging one morning on the way to school, I decided to don gloves and a trash bag and investigate. Into the deep recesses of the car I traveled, to the place I lovingly refer to as "Satan's Lair."

It didn't take long, the discover of which added to my ire. A sports-type cup leaking what I could only surmise was chocolate milk, somewhat solidified, nearly a cottage cheese consistency. The cup had been shoved into the seat pocket in front of the third row of seats. As I started poking around, I noticed a couple more cups shoved the other pocket, along with various snack bags, hair bows, a crayon, several lego pieces, an overdue library book and headphones for the car audio system. Yes, all of them with at least a couple drops of the souring brown liquid. Some had complete saturation.

Upon further discovery I found in the other pocket more treasures and delights similar to above. And then...if it couldn't get any worse, I spied the cupholders. I say that plural because the Honda Odyssey has something like 26 cup holders in it - I am not lying. I happened to see two joining ones and I know I gasped out loud. A left over mushy, fermenting apple from some weeks earlier, possibly a month or so, soaking in some gooey orange syrup from a disintegrating McDonald's cup. It was trying to become one with some chintzy gold necklace and a melted tube of chapstick. I know the hair on my neck started to stand up and possibly some slivers of steam began curling out of my ears.

In my zen-like state, I created a plan and a subsequent consequence for not obeying my plan, otherwise known as "discipline." The new rule: children must consistently keep the van cleaned up. How ingenious of me, right? Everything is to be brought in from the car when we get home. I mean EVERYTHING. No clothing, backpacks, shoes or coats left behind. I know, why do I have shoes and clothing lying around our car? Because the children change into swim gear three times a week leaving school uniforms, socks, etc. strewn about. They are also to keep all trash out of the back and bring in toys/electronics, too. Nirvana, right? The punishment for not doing their job? Vacuuming the entire car and cleaning all cupholders. My cupholders will not longer runneth over!

Christmas 2009

Glimpses of Christmas memories 2009:

"Warm milk! Santa HAS to have warm milk!" That was the shout of my Sadie as we entered the house on Christmas Eve. "The Santa watch" presented by the weather man on the local television channel showed that Santa was definitely in the Triad so the two girls who still believe were crazy to get home and get in bed.

Before going to dinner for Christmas Eve festivites, our little family of 5 gathered around the advent wreath while Jay read Luke 2, Christ's birth. We followed it by talking about the 4 elements of the advent - hope, joy, peace and love. The kids talked about how Jesus brings each of those to us. We ended this special family time by taking turns pray. I loved Sadie's in particular. She said, "God, please help Santa fit into our chimeny because it is small. And, God, please help us to put Jesus first as he is the reason we celebrate." I love how she prayed about Santa first then asks God to help us remember Jesus. Ethan contributed a great verse about Peace he had recently learned at school. Lovey Lily simply said, "I love you, Jesus." Sweetness.

At dinner with my family tonight, Lily was quite whiny and quite active. I pulled the Santa card. She promptly told me that I did NOT know how to get in touch with Santa. My uncle, hearing this little exchange, quickly entered a "Santa" number on his cell phone. I handed it to Lily, asking her what it said. "Santa," she said and quickly sat up in her chair and ate her green beans. Nice touch, Uncle Danny!

Christmas morning brought a wake-up shake at 6:45. We have had earlier wake-ups on Christmas morning, so I am ok with this one. Our tradition is that the kids must sit at the top of the stairs to wait for us to get the lights on, cameras ready, etc. We love seeing their anticipating faces. When we give the "Ok" they bolt down the stairs to their respective piles of goodies from Santa. This year brought new scooters to each of them - Lily got a plasma car which is propelled by moving the steering wheel; Ethan got a spark scooter and Sadie got a v-wing scooter. The various dsi games were also a hit. We (Mom and Dad) always get the exciting task of giving them clothing and this was no exception as each of the kids received snow bibs, gloves and long john underwear. I love how our kids feign excitment over gifts that don't hold a candle to Ninetnedo. At least they were very appreciative.

After opening and unpackaging the "goods", using a large garbage bag to try to confine the discarded wrap and bows, we got dressed and headed to Grammy's for the day. We stayed all day long which was a tradition I had at my own grandmother's growing up. The day included a lovely nap, lots of food and two large puzzles. We were obsessed with them.

Arriving home after dinner, we allowed the kids to play with their toys for a little while and then headed everyone to bed. A nice, laid-back Christmas Day during which we were able to reflect upon Him.

Quotable quotes

Walking into my bedroom, Lily said: "I am going to play tag with...with...with...nonone, I guess." Then she walked out of my room saying. "Tag. Tag. Tag." to imaginary people along the way.

When I picked up Lily yesterday she announced, "I got candy today. I was an O+ girl!" I love that she thrives on the doing well. I see a lot of growth in her consistency and handwriting. Yay for my little O+ girl!

Sadie has recently learned about the layers of the earth. Clearly in her element, she gobbled up every last bit of information taught to her, spewing the knowledge all over me each afternoon. Today, she was showing a healing wound on her leg to her grandfather. It was a little cracked looking and she remarked to him that it looked like the, "electronic plates" of the earth's crust. I smiled and asked, "Do you mean tectonic plates?" "Oh, yeah," she said.

Ethan has been "Mister Inquisitive" these days. I find myself navigating our vehicle through the streets of our town and to and from school trying to come up with the answers that are accurate, on a 9-year old level, and complete enough to cease the questions. Often, I am frustrated. If someone can help me, I would appreciate it. Here are some recent topics: What is the mortgage crisis? Why does someone drink alcohol/get drunk? Why did the South want slavery? What do they keep talking about healthcare reform? This last question's obvious answer then leads to, "Then what is the bill going to do?" and "Why do some people not want it?" Maybe we should just stop talking about current events and watching the news until he can figure it out on his own.

Things I Swore I Would Never Do...Part ???

I don't know how many times I have written about something that I have recently done that I swore at some previous time in my life that I would never, ever do. Some call this eating crow. Some use the expression, "Never say never!" I just say, "You live, you learn...you stop saying never!"


This weekend I packed my two oldest children and headed out of town to attend a sporting event in which they participated. I am now a traveling sports mom. Groan. What makes this a first for us is that 1) it was overnight, therefore requiring a hotel room and 2) two children participated on both Saturday and Sunday. Jay and Lily stayed at home giving them a rare weekend together that included tea parties and lots of snuggle.

My main beef with this entire "traveling for a child's sporting event" is that it breaks apart families when the weekend is when families spend the most time together. I can add that it seems ridiculous to devote time to a sport at such a young age (8 and 9). Finally, it costs money. However, in the land of swimming, "our sport", it is what it is. You can't really compete in swimming year round by staying only in our little town.

So, what made me change my mind a bit on this issue? Several moments during the weekend, actually. Here are some funny moments from the weekend:


As we make our way east, the kids are pumped and we make a stop at Sheetz to pick up a light lunch and gas up. Their coach probably doesn't need to know this because Sheetz, with "s" replaced with "z'" in every possible written instance, is not exactly the top of the food chart of healthy eating. However, my kids think that the ordering at the gas pump is the coolest thing since sliced bread and thus a bonus point for mom.

At the pool, I get drafted to help the team get the swimmers to their events on time. One of the coaches gets me a volunteer sticker and I place it on my chest without too much thought. After I have walked throughout the arena, I look down and gasp. My tag reads, "Star Kid Pusher." Yeah, you read that correctly...KID PUSHER. Does that sound like I am at a swim meet or that I am ready for DSS to carry me away?!? It made me laugh as well as my kids...a LOT.


The next highlight came after the meet when we checked into the hotel. My kids really haven't stayed in many hotels as we tend to opt for condos or houses on vacations. I had not realized that. They are acting like it is Christmas morning as we walked down the hall of our hotel to our room. As they burst through the door, they started running around. "Mom, look it's a bed!" "Mom, we have our own coffee maker!" "Mom! Did you see the bathroom?" "Mom, is that a sofa?." I nearly fell on the floor laughing, because you know, they have never seen a sofa, or coffee maker or gasp...a bed in a hotel room. They quickly claimed their spots - Ethan in the king bed with me and Sadie on the pull-out sofa (another WOW moment when that magically appeared).


Another highlight was dinner out with several of our teammates after day 1. What made this nice was that the other families also attend my kids' school. The kids all got along and the adults had enjoyable conversations. I will add that it was the first time my son, 9, ordered from the children's menu, completely devoured his meal (ribs) and had to order more food. I guess he will be an adult menu orderer from now on, which means paying adult menu prices.


The three of us hit the hay back at the hotel by 9:30 after I was subjected to some really bizarro cartoon on the cartoon network. You are definitely limited by what you can watch in a one-room hotel room with kids. The show is called "The Secret Saturdays" and it is just strange.


During the night, Ethan was all over the bed we were sharing. Tossing, turning, kicking pushing and mumbling. I don't know how many times I shoved him to the other side of the king-sized bed only to find him right back next to me seemingly within minutes. Finally, I sat up and with a slightly elevated voice said, "Ethan, that is enough. You have to stop kicking and hitting me." His mumbled answer: "Mom, I am sorry. I was having this dream where I had to get this crazy, laughing elephant back to the circus. I guess you were the elephant." He laughed. I laughed and I marked ribs off his menu possibilities in the future.


The next morning we had some time to kill before we had to be back at the pool. After the complimentary breakfast, we decided to hang out in the room. Two other teammates came with us and I ended up making two forts for them to play in. One was in the closet with a blanket over the desk chair. The other was made between the bed and the wall, using the sofa cushions and the coffee table. It kept those 4 kids busy, along with their DSi's, for several hours.

As far as the actual swimming that occurred, the kids dropped times in all their events except one each. We left the meet all on a chlorine and adrenaline high. Ethan is gaining confidence and a self-awareness of what he is doing right and wrong with his strokes. Sadie is determined to swim the 100 fly at the next meet which no 8 year old attempted at this meet. They are really pumped about the next meet in mid-January in Rock Hill, SC.

Swimming continues to be a great decision for our family. It is growing our kids mentally and physically and gives them a completely different atmosphere than school and home. For that, I am willing to hit the road.

Somebody's Knockin' at Our Front Door

This post is not an original idea of my own, rather a blog-lift or blogarism from another site I visit. However, the topic was so totally applicable to my own family, that I knew it must be written from the Dumoulin point of view.

The sound of our doorbell or a knock at our door is a signal to our kids to begin acting like they are wild, rabid animals who have been caged for the last 24 hours. I am not exaggerating. It is like they have lost all sense of decency, control, social graces, and/or common courtesy. Like the demon possessed, their eyes grow wide as inappropriate words and topics burst forth from their mouths.

It doesn't matter whether the person at the door is the mailman, our next door neighbor or even their own grandmother. It is as consistent as Pavlov's rat! Ding-dong! Let the insanity begin.

In general, this is what I can be assured will happen at some point during a "visit":

One of my children will appear with either a lack of clothing (no shirt or no pants, years ago even completely naked) OR will don some sort of costume that is either too small (read too revealing) or improperly worn.

One of my children will talk about the potty or a personal grooming habit. Poop, pee, toot, fart (though a banned word in our house), naked (see above), potty, nose, pick, stinky, privates - pick a word. It will be used.

One of my children will do something so outlandish that you will stand there stunned like a deer in headlights not knowing which way to run. For example, Sadie was four when she decided to open up a window and attempt to crawl out of it while a babysitter was present. Thankfully, it was open to a deck just a couple of feet below. But seriously? What?

One of my children will start chasing the dog giving the impression that we frequently host dog races at our house. Take your bets, people! Around and around they go; the dog begins to bark uncontrollably and quite loudly. No conversation can be had. Chaos ensues.

One of my children will decide to subject our visitor to a stand-up comedy routine filled with self-penned jokes. Most don't make any sense, but do send the "comedian" into fits of laughter. Occasionally, a "show" will be performed in the living room, admittance by ticket only. Usually, it is requested that the visitor purchase this ticket (a hastily cut piece of paper) with real money!

One of my children will insist on giving our visitor on a "home tour." Naturally, if the visitor is an unexpected guest, I have not prepared our domicile accordingly. Therefore, the visitor is subjected to viewing bathrooms with personal effects strewn about, the stench of a toilet left unflushed, heaps of laundry on the kitchen table and an occasional pull-up not properly disposed and left on the floor where it was discarded.

Specifically, Ethan will suddenly become "The Great Mumbler." When he is speaking to an adult, I must jump into my role as "translator" because no one can understand the nine-year old gibberish he speaks under his breath. I stand there like a parrot, repeating what he has just said so that our visitor can understand him. And, I think he believes that if he actually looks at an adult in the face while speaking, he will be instantly vaporized by their eyes.

Sadie can only be described as the "Tasmanian Devil." It is like a tornado spinning throughout the house, picking up object after object, destroying order, sliding down banisters, darting here and there.

Lily usually decides to become "The Great Clinger." She sees every visitor is an opportunity for Mommy to leave her, I think. She hides behind my legs, refusing to answer any question thrown at her. Never leaving my side.

After the children have sufficiently established our house as an insane asylum and my performance as a mother a complete and utter failure, it is time for the visitor to leave. The door closes and the children, sweetly and innocently, act as if nothing at all had just happened. The Twilight Zone left as quickly as it came and I am left completely dumbfounded.

Thoughts on a rather hectic day:


I went to Big Lots to find some ribbon. There was a lady collecting money for the Salvation Army. She was also entertaining everyone entering or exiting the store with her unusual way of singing. Confession time - I usually get irritated when people sing out loud, randomly, when the song is not playing in the background, even when they are good singers. It is just a personal quirk. This lady, despite doing her best to bring Christmas cheer, was belting out Christmas songs and sounding like a cross between a cat being strangled and a chicken being punched. As I stood in the check-out line, the doors to the store would open and close producing another titillating and screeching snippet of her talents for our listening pleasure. Pretty dreadful and way over sung. I wasn't quite sure if depositing some change in her bucket would be encouraging or quiet her down. Nevertheless, I offered up some coins and went on my way. It was met with a, "Now, YOU have a blessed day, Ma'am!" Amen!


I wonder why I think I can ever make a quick trip to WalMart at any time during the year, but it seems particularly ludicrous during the high-shopping Christmas season. I even tried my hand at rewriting my shopping list to coincide with the flow of the store (back to front) with the random soup ladle and deodorant listed to the side. I race through the aisles, trying to get a cart load of groceries and a prescription in just under and hour. Completely out of breath, I threw my bags in my car and raced to Chik-fil-a to pick-up food for my kids' lunch that morning. This entire situation would not have occurred had I been able to get my grocery shopping done the day prior. But, I didn't. Therefore, there was absolutely nothing with which to fix their lunches having exhausted all bread, soup, spaghettio's and beanie weanies.

I discovered, that in a panic, I can make a large crock pot of ham and corn chowder, a large tin pan of baked spaghetti and another of chicken fajitas in less than an hour. However, on most nights it takes me longer just to fix one simple meal.

My children, no matter how much I plan and instruct, still have a difficult time changing clothes, swimming and collecting their own discarded and used clothing. We found Ethan's winter coat in the lost and found where it had been left the practice prior. We have lost and reclaimed t-shirts, goggles, etc. We have come home with a towel, t-shirt, swim gear that isn't even ours. I have tried every trick - labeling clothing and gear, having a separate hamper bag for the car, smaller bags, bigger bags, etc. Now, I just pray.

A Prettier Picture

Yesterday's post was created from actual incidents that had occurred within the previous 24 hours of it being authored. It doesn't paint a pretty picture of my children. In order to balance the negativity with some "all is not lost" fodder, I present today's post.

As a service project this Christmas, the kindergarten classes at school decided to bring in various toys, personal care items, gloves, hats, etc. for another elementary school. This other school has 370 students in grades K-3 who are, for the most part, well-below the poverty level. Each year, the teachers stock their staff room with these items and allow each child to pick out a few things for Christmas. My heart is especially soft for children who might go without during a season when no child should.

I had earmarked some funds to go to this cause. Last week, I was excited to find sweatshirts and long-sleeved t-shirts on sale at WalMart for less than $3.00. I also added in some gloves, hats and activity books. I was feeling pretty good about the purchases and marked it off my Christmas "to-do" list.

Over the weekend, the kids decided to check their personal money envelopes we use to hold birthday money, gift cards, etc. We also found an envelope containing the money they raised this summer at a yard sale. They had cleaned out their toys and with my help, had baked cookies and brownies. All in all, they managed to raise $35.25. Originally, the kids had wanted to use the money for personal gain. We had not had an opportunity to do so, therefore the envelope had remained in the drawer.

It was Sadie who first proposed the idea of using the money to purchase gifts for another child. Quickly, they all agreed. They also wanted to use additional money from their personal stash as well and so I allowed them to pick a certain amount to do so. We ventured to the Dollar Tree to make our selections. Sadie had already made her list of what she wanted to buy. I love that store because you can really stretch your money.

The kids didn't ask once to purchase something for themselves. Excitedly, they picked out toothbrushes, gloves, hats, puzzles, scarves, crayons, activity books, lip balm, books, etc. We stayed away from items that might only be used one time and then discarded. I also navigated them away from the plastic junk that might break just by opening the packaging. The kids were thrilled and my heart was warmed seeing them understand the true meaning of Christmas: Giving and sacrificing for others as Christ gave to us.

When we got home, Lily curled up next to me on my bed for a little snuggle. I told her she would need to take in the large bag of donations to class the next day. Then she told me, "Today, Mommy, I gave my Stitch animal." "What?" I asked. The reality began to sink in as I remembered seeing her bring down 4 of her stuffed animal downstairs that morning. I made her haul them back up because she didn't need to take them to school where I thought she just wanted to play with them. Evidently, she still snuck the Stitch one, the one she had just picked out as her special toy from Disney just a few weeks prior, into her bag. I didn't know that her intention was to donate it. She truly gave from her heart.

I need to remember that when I believe my children are completely self-absorbed beings who are only interested in satisfying their own self-interests, there is a bit of selflessness being nurtured in there. Now, I let out a much more contented...Sigh.

How Dare I?

I am such a mean, terrible mommy. I am positive I am the worst to have ever lived. For example:

How dare I pack my children's swim bags every Monday and Wednesday. What am I thinking putting a black bathing suit in a black swim bag causing my kids to search tireless for it in their bag.

How dare I not respond immediately and run upstairs when one of my children screams, "MOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMYYYYYY!" at their loudest volume.

How dare I make my children wear long-sleeves and pants when it is 40 degrees outside. I know t-shirts and shorts are more hip, possibly even more comfortable, but excuse me for worrying about frostbite.

How dare I have only one bottle of special swimmer's hair conditioner for my children to share. I know it must tax them greatly to have to walk the long distance between their bathrooms to exchange the one bottle. I am so sorry for this.

How dare I force my children to complete their school work by themselves, before the deadline while attempting to answer every single question on the page. The horror of horror must be when they are asked to remember to put their name on their paper. I mean, in life, I know that sometimes you don't have make an effort to fully complete your tasks, so it is probably a lesson they don't need to learn. It is just important to me.

How dare I not make every dollop of food and drink I give my kids perfectly even. I know I should carefully measure out each serving and I am sorry that I am so slack in this endeavor.

How dare I finish off the cookies last night that I made over the weekend. I know the kids did not offer to help make them while they were watching "Tom & Jerry" on the television in the kitchen. However, they should be entitled to all the cookies they want, including the last ones which should be measured and divided evenly for them.

How dare I forget to order lunch for them each month. I know that we could eat at a restaurant more cheaply than what it costs them to eat their catered school lunches, but it really shouldn't matter. I know it must be embarrassing for them to be the only ones taking their lunch every day.

How dare I make them complete household chores like putting clothes away, emptying the dishwasher and cleaning their rooms. It is the equivalent to slave labor because I don't pay them for their work, rather I view it as their contributions to helping run our household.

How dare I make a homecooked meal rather than pick-up something on the way home from swimming two days a week. I know my efforts to teach them about nutrition is probably outdated.

How dare I ask that my children brush their teeth not once, but twice a day. Good, healthy teeth are not in fashion right now. And, bad breath is a sure way to win friends. Why would I want them to know this, right?

How dare I send my children to school when they are tired or have a headache or just don't feel like going. I should probably just break the law and allow this truancy, but being compliant is just my nature.

Maybe they will forgive me one day... Sigh.

Children's Update

It is time to write an update on the kids. Life is flying by me and the moments are slipping away...
Ethan:
I have discovered a little tick of Ethan's. When he is excited or nervous, he makes noise. Not necessarily words, but just strange, bizarre and very quickly irritating noises. I am sure it will pass, but I find myself saying, quite frequently, "Ethan, enough with the noises." He asks me nearly every week to have lunch with him at school. I never understand this request, because when I am able to fulfill this request, he doesn't really talk to me. However, today, I will oblige this request. Schoolwork always seem to be second on the list. He cares, but not enough to make it a priority. Nevertheless, he ended up with all As and one B on this first report card of the year. I still feel that I have to stay behind him a bit too much. It is time for him to increase his level of independence. We also are working on "fairness" and the extreme focus he has on always making sure he gets what his sisters have. He is still quite the funny man and enjoys guitar, choir and swimming.

Sadie:
Jay and I had an appointment at the pediatrician's office yesterday without Sadie. This regards the various amounts of paperwork we and her teacher have completed about her behavior. The outcome of the paperwork was not surprising to me - ADHD (strong Hyperactivity) and also some tendencies for ODD (Oppositional Defiance Disorder). We are opting NOT to put Sadie on medication because her school work is not suffering. Instead, our pediatrician, who no longer prescribes medication to any child for the above, has a different type of behavior-modification plan, and a nutrition plan. He believes in integrative medicine, looking at multiple approaches. Can I get an AMEN? We go back in a couple of weeks to receive our "manual." Meanwhile, I believe Sadie has calmed down a bit in class, but there have been some social issues that have concerned me. In the meantime, schoolwork is still above average, swimming is her first love and she does nothing but draw and read with her free time. Tell me again why we should be concerned?

Lily:
Oh, lovey Lily. Always starving. That is the first thing I can write. She is doing well with academics in school, but could be a bit better in consistency with writing. We continue to practice at home, but honestly, it just isn't a strong point for her. Otherwise, reading is coming very easily and math concepts not a struggle. She is the youngest in her class and the teachers say that sometimes that shows, but not in the majority of her work. There is an occasional morning when, as the teacher assistant said, "She just doesn't give a flip," but that doesn't seem to be as often anymore. At least she is not asking/crying to stay with me in the mornings anymore. She has started some swim lessons with the same coach as Ethan and Sadie. She was very timid at first, refusing to swim with him. I asked her why. Her response, "Because he has hair on his chest." Obviously, she has not looked closely at her own bear-like, furry father. It appears that she has grown out of that and seems to really like doing what Ethan and Sadie do, "with their clothes on." This would mean that she likes doing, "dry land practice" that the kids do prior to swimming when they are still dressed in shorts and t-shirts. Funny. Her other activity is piano and I was excited to see her looking at the music while playing and not at her hands last night. Progress! The most comments I receive from others is how "loving" Lily is. Still quite the snuggle bug.

My Sunday Reflection

Crossroads are a natural part of life's journey. Fairly predictable at the end of education endeavors, decision on marriage and bearing children. But, I think the ones that are the most difficult involve less on the factual statuses of life and more on matters of the heart.

I have spent two years at a crossroad. Written all throughout this blog are posts littered with depression, questioning, with a sprinkling of some epiphanies, yet no action has really been taken. It is much easier for me to write about being at the crossroads and what I think I should do than actually stepping forth, making a move, getting off of the "x marks the spot" and journeying on.

Last night I found myself at the foot of my beautiful Sadie's bed while she slept. My purpose in being there was to pray for her, to petition to God for wisdom and understanding into a beautiful mind that has become an enigma to me.


You see, this school year has brought to the surface the struggles that each individual member of my family has, but in no one more obvious that Sadie. I noticed a decline in her behavior over the summer. Little acts of disobedience. Little manipulations. Little lies. Little aggravations. I was not the proactive mother. Our summer schedule left little time to enforce discipline measures. Jay traveled much of the time. Honestly, I was just tired of being a mom. Tired of being, actually.


As the school year has progressed, so has Sadie's transgressions. A little bit of talking in class has become a lot of talking in class which has become talking while the teacher is instructing which has become impulsive loud acts, which has become hitting another child with a book, chasing around a hair in the air while class is being conducted...etc., etc., etc. This only parallels her behavior at home causing me to be consumed with anger and for me to attempt warp drive in the control department. If I just clamp down hard enough, rant and yell enough, I can squash her into this box that I think she should fit in. I searched the internet - ADHD, Oppositional Defiance Disorder, Boredom, Highly Intellectual, Differentiation in the Classroom - looking for answers, solutions, problem-solving on my own. Do you hear the problems already?

The height of these acts occurred this week, resulting in an explosion or rather a possible implosion of our family. As typical with the workings of God, desperate times draw you close to Him and you reach a new heightened sense of awareness of Him and His love. Monday was just one of those days...

So, there I was, sitting beside my sleeping angel desperate to hear from Him. As I prayed for my child's heart, the light began to shine into my own heart. I wasn't just praying fervently for her, I was praying desperately, soul-searchingly for me. I needed my God. The tears became sobs. I was broken, yet again.

How could I have gotten to this place? Admittedly, by my own two feet. Walking away from Him. On my own.

Easily, I cried out to God to draw us both close to Him. He comforted my heart. He soothed my soul. The next day, God continued speaking to my heart in my bible study. This is what I learned:

1) God is not asking me to problem solve this situation. He asks that I just love her, turn her to Him, apply necessary discipline. Ultimately, I must have faith that He who does a good work, will be faithful to complete it. I should never be desperate or exacerbated.

2) I must shore myself up with the word. My life's history clearly shows how being the word is hugely impacting to me in every single part of my day. The highest of highs, the joy of of joys comes from being with my Savior. My entire countenance changes, a supernatural change that I can not create myself. I am able to transcend the struggles of this world to live with a peace that truly passes all understanding.

3) I must role model self-control which can not come from me, but from the Holy Spirit. If I am flying off the handle, having my little adult fits, rages, etc., how in the world can I expect Sadie not to?

4) I must not let how this world defines a "good" child be my guide for Sadie, nor can I let the rolling eyes and judgements of other parents, teachers, etc. to shame me, doubt my parenting, or define success for me. This is between me, Sadie and God.

I would like to say that all of this changed the remaining days of the week, like a miracle was performed and Sadie showed marked improvement. No. That was not the case. However, there was a miracle in my ability to handle it, to administer appropriate punishment, to turn her heart to the Lord. We have had some very sweet prayers and discussions as well as some very tough discipline measures. For example, her room contains only with her bed and clothing.

Therefore, I wait. I pray and I wait expectantly. It is nice to have the crossroads to my back. You know, I might be walking a very long time, but I have faith that somewhere along that path, the trees will bear much fruit.

A low day in the life of mothering

Today was not a stellar day in the life of my children. Relationally, this impacts me, their mother. Oh, I am sure it will pale in comparison to what lies ahead as we enter the wildly hormonal teenage years. However, in the life of elementary students, well, this ranks pretty low on the success rung for me, the mom.

This morning, it was all Lily. Three years of preschool and only a handful of days did she ever cry at leaving me. Now, in kindergarten, she cries every morning, asking, rather begging to stay with me. One of the deciding factors to send her on to 'big school' this year was that she has always loved school and has never exhibited separation anxiety. In fact, none of my children have had any bouts of such for more than a couple of days. Not only does this delay us in getting ready in the mornings, it frustrates me because I have no real idea how to handle it. She is fine in the classroom which makes me believe this is a power thing?? See? I have no idea.

Fastforward to pick-up time at the school. My first hit was when my eyes landed on Sadie's teacher. She promptly walked towards me and as her eyes flitted everywhere but into mine, I could tell that bad news was eminent.

"Sadie, had a bad day today. She had several warnings and went on yellow. We had two specials today and both teachers mentioned Sadie's behavior, too. She had a very hard time controlling herself today. I have moved the children around and I have partnered Sadie with a very quiet girl, so we will see if that helps."

As she finished talking, another teacher brought Sadie outside. I was a bit confused, because Sadie was supposed to be in the holding area and evidently this other teacher thought she wasn't supposed to be there. This other teacher announced quite loudly, "I found Sadie hanging out in the holding room." It made for a quite a confusing and slightly embarrassing moment as all other parental eyes seemed drawn toward my direction.

As I found out, Sadie had also taken it upon herself to help another student, who had a cast on his foot, down the elevator. Elevators are not allowed to be used by students unless instructed by the teacher. Sadie had not been instructed to do so. Yay to Sadie for being helpful, right? But, I know she only did it to ride the elevator.

Then, Lily came outside only to announce to me that she had had, "a very bad day, Mommy." Sigh. I tracked down her teacher only to be told that she had some trouble listening and focusing today. She acted very tired throughout the day.

Next comes Ethan. I barely glanced at his teacher, afraid of what might come next. I did get a nugget of encouragement in that the teacher said there was a, "bit of hope." This comment comes after last week's statement from the teacher, "I could stand for Ethan to be a bit more 'present' in the classroom." I thought that was a diplomatic way to state what really translates to: he needs to get his act together. As we walk away, one of Ethan's friends comes running after him carrying something in his hand. He shouts to my always forgetful son, "Ethan, you forgot your lunchbox!"

We traipse off to the car, all pretty dejected and low. As we left school to head to Ethan's guitar lessons, I tried to be positive. "Did you all get my notes in your lunch today?" Coincidently, they all said, "(Child's Name), you are the best! I love you! Mom,". No one clearly answered me, adding to my feelings of resignation.

While continuing on to our afternoon activities, Ethan decided to change into swim gear in the car before his guitar lesson. I emphasized to him to make sure he got everything back into his swim bag. Ethan responded with, "Oh, Mah-um." He scampered out the car door. Soon after, I picked him up from guitar and deposited him and Sadie at the pool for swim team.

Imagine my shock when I arrived to pick them up from swim team, Ethan announced to me, quite audibly I might add, that I forgot to pack his swim suit and he had to swim in his exercise shorts. Apologizing, I scurried to the car, only to check the back seat and find, viola! his swim shorts.

I announced that we were meeting my own father for dinner. Sadie collapsed in a heap because there was no brush to help her pool head. Ethan started to cry, yes cry, because he did not have dry underwear to put on. The thought of going commando sent him into a tailspin. But wait...he could don his still dry swim suit. Solution! And, my step mom might have a brush. Life could move on.

During dinner, Sadie fell asleep and Lily burped twice so loudly that patrons of the restaurant turned their heads in dismay. Lily could also not sit still which meant constantly kicking her nearest neighbor, me, with her feet. Upon arriving home, the car stayed parked halfway down the driveway as we have had our driveway resurfaced. Therefore it took three, long trips from the car to carry in all that accumulated in that day alone. Lily stumbled up the driveway, wearing only one shoe, carrying the other one as dejectedly as I felt.

As I walked to the car on the last trip, I picked up Ethan's underwear and a pair of his socks that had fallen out of his bag which laid quite pathetically on the wet driveway... oblivious to him, of course. In the laundry room, while unpacking swim bags, I pulled out a t-shirt from Ethan's swim bag. I held it up and showed it to him. I already knew the answer before I asked.
"I think that is Coach Rob's t-shirt. How did that get in my bag?" Seriously, Ethan? Seriously?

Tonight, I ask myself, "Can I hold this all together for an entire school year?" I really should get paid more for this job on days like today. I think this will definitely be the year of repetition -repetition in what comes out of my mouth. "Focus, Self-control, You are OK, FOCUS!" There has to be an easier way, right?