12 sleeps and snow

Posted in Eucharisteo, grace, holidays, joy found, nieces and nephews, the relatives by

12 SLEEPS!    JUST 12 MORE SLEEPS!!

My sister and nieces are coming! The ones I haven’t seen in over 2 years!! The niece that Leesie longs to play with so much she named her imaginary friend then blue bat friend after her. And the other niece that I haven’t seen since she was two months old. THEY WILL BE HERE AFTER JUST 12 MORE SLEEPS!

Not that I’m excited or anything. Ok, I’m ecstatic!!!

And as if that weren’t exciting enough, we – my big sis and I – are taking a road trip with our 4 kids to see our lil’ sis in Nevada! I haven’t seen her in far too long either. Aaaaaaaaaannd, we will be meeting our brand new adorable baby nephew, Mason! Who hasn’t actually been born yet, but I already know he’s adorable. And my older sis and nieces will meet Mason’s big brother, Riley for the first time, too – even though he’s 1 already 1 1/2. And I will get to squish-kiss his adorable cheeks.

AND ALL THE 6 COUSINS WILL GET TO PLAY TOGETHER for the first time! Well, Mason will probably just want to sleep since he’ll be just a week or two old. Every party has a pooper…

Aaaaand, my mom will be there, too, because she is flying down to be there when Mason makes his appearance.

So to sum up:

Mom + her 3 girls + all six (by then) grandchildren on this earth (3 boys, 3 girls) + 1 husband (Kylie’s) = LOADS AND LOADS OF FUN AND MEMORY MAKING that hasn’t happened since… since ever, because the last time we were all together at the same time was 2 years and 5 months ago, and 3 of these babies – all the boy grandbabies – didn’t even exist yet!

Sadly, we will really miss dad, and 2 of the husbands (mine and Korie’s).

Hmmmm…. The 3 men that have been around the longest in this family are not going to be there at the reunion of the 3 sisters and mother + 6 grandbabies. I wonder if they have some wisdom from experience they forgot to share with Ryan…

Kidding, of course. They are all working. I know they – dad especially – would love to be there. Hoping and praying for a reunion next year that includes all of us.

I’ve done a few re-posts of Facebook notes I wrote over the last year to keep them all in one place. I only have a couple left. The one below was for my niece, Ellia, on her 4th birthday this past January. Since I get to see her in just 12 sleeps and she is on my mind constantly right now, I’m posting it today.

I LOVE YOU, Ellia!! I can’t wait to see you and your mommy and sis in just 12 sleeps!!!! (And YOU Kylie, Ryan, Riley, and Mason – just shortly after that!) This is one happy girl over here!!!

A Prayer for Snow – January 26, 2012

Last week, when many of us were waking up to inches of snow, my older sister and her family were “enduring” temperatures in the upper 80s. They live in Surabaya, Indonesia, where they serve as missionaries and pastor a church. Korie and John have two adorable girls (my adorable nieces), Ellia and Alyssa, who have spent most of their short lives (they’re just 4 and almost 2), over there.

 So while we were all posting pictures of sledding, snowmen and igloos, Ellia was praying for God to send snow to Surabaya. “Mommy, I’m afraid that I’m never going to see snow again!” she said. Even when she was told God would probably not answer her prayer for snow in their hot city, she said, “It’s ok, I’ll just keep praying.” (Now there is a girl with some faith.) Korie posted Ellia’s comment on Facebook and told all their Washington friends and family to enjoy the snow. I read the post and felt sad for my little niece who likely wouldn’t understand why God wouldn’t answer such a simple request for snow. (Oh, ME of little faith.)

So here’s what happened…

I was typing up a response to Korie, when I looked up and read the response above mine. A friend of hers posted something about fake snow that looks and feels like the real thing. I remembered seeing the same stuff when I went to Victorian Christmas. I was with some church friends at the time, and one of them had mentioned purchasing some in Whatcom County for her grandkids before Thanksgiving.

I called her up. She said she bought it at Grandiflora in Lynden, but that was before Thanksgiving. She doubted they’d still be carrying it now. I called there. No answer. It was the middle of a snowstorm and all the county schools were closed as well as some businesses. I figured Grandiflora was closed, too.

So I called Michaels. They were out and wouldn’t have it until Christmas. I called JoAnns. Out. I was actually ok with that, though, because I was without a car and there was a snowstorm, so really how would I get it anyway?

 I searched the internet and found a couple brands that were kind of pricey, and I didn’t want to add shipping costs on top of the shipping costs I’d have sending it to Indonesia. I figured I’d wait and when I came across it, I’d pick it up and send it to her. It just may not be until next Christmas.

Then I remembered Grandiflora had a voicemail box. I called them back to leave a message. Only this time someone answered.

I described the product I was looking for. She knew what it was but thought it was an odd request considering the weather. After all, I could just step outside and get as much as I’d like for free. She was kind, but said that although they had some packs left, they had already packed it up with some other stuff for next season. It would probably be very difficult to find, and the owners weren’t in. She didn’t even know where to begin to look.

So I began to tell her the story of my little niece’s childlike faith and her prayer for snow… only I didn’t get very far. I barely got the those words out when the woman on the other end nearly shouted, “Oh! It’s here! It’s here! God just directed my eyes RIGHT to it!” She seemed very surprised, because it was supposed to have been packed up, but there was an entire box of snow that had not gotten put away.

Perfect.

She set aside 6 packs for me and put the rest away. Now I just had to get through the real snow to pick it up … Thankfully, unlike Michael’s and JoAnn’s, Grandiflora is only a couple miles away and Matt would be home with a car before they closed.

Now here is what I love about this. Ellia was going to get snow. It was set aside for us to get. But even better, she was going to get it while we still had snow. Because my mom – who has never traveled out of the US/Canada – was going to visit Korie, John, Ellia and Alyssa. And she was leaving in three days.

Just the fact that she was going at all was a miracle. It wasn’t likely going to ever happen, but a wonderful friend blessed mom with a trip and didn’t give her a choice. Mom was going. Another wonderful friend blessed mom by going with her. They – and the snow – would be arriving the day before Ellia’s birthday.

We had just enough time to wait out the real snow, get the fake snow, and drive it (safely) down to Mt. Vernon to meet my mom and stick it in her suitcase as she was leaving.

Mom and Darlene boarded a plane and about 36 hours later, they were in Indonesia. It was evening there, and by the time they got to Korie’s house, everyone was exhausted. I don’t imagine there would have even been time for playing in the snow even if they wanted to. It would have to wait until the next day, Ellia’s birthday.

So guess what? Ellia got snow. It arrived on her birthday. With about 16 Indonesian friends who I’m guessing have never ever seen it before and may not ever again. My sister says it was a hit. They all played and played and played in it. They went outside and threw it in the air and at each other. A little boy who has cried the whole time every time he’s been at Korie’s before laughed and played for the first time. Ellia got snow. With friends. In Surabaya. On her birthday. Just a week after she first prayed for it.

You may be rolling your eyes. “Why would God answer that prayer?” And I’ll admit. I thought it too. “Poor Ellia. God won’t be answering her prayer for snow.”

But then again, why wouldn’t He? He is GOD, after all. Clearly HE is capable. But snow? In Surabaya? Just because a little girl prayed for it? That’s really just a child’s silly wish, right?

Here’s the thing. God answered Ellia’s prayer. Not in the way she expected, but it was answered nonetheless. Some may read this and chalk it up to a series of coincidences. But I know God loves us. He knows us. It says in Isaiah 43:1, “I have called you by name, you are mine.”   We are HIS. I am HIS. Ellia, YOU are GOD’s.

He not only loves us and knows us, but He delights in us. Zephaniah 3:17 “The Lord your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing.”  We are HIS children. What father doesn’t take joy in the laughter of his children? What father doesn’t rejoice and celebrate the life of his child?

I will be the first to say that every request we bring to him isn’t granted. I’ve had some big requests go unfulfilled. It doesn’t always make sense. But I do know that His thoughts are not our thoughts, His ways are not our ways (Isaiah 55:8). I guess when it comes down to it, I’m thankful for that. My ways are awfully selfish. And I don’t see the picture He sees. And I know God isn’t our magic genie to be used to grant wishes.

So why the snow? I know some people will read this and think, “God doesn’t do stuff like that. He isn’t worried about silly requests like that.” I’ve even heard friends say, “God doesn’t have time for those little prayers. He’s too busy dealing with wars and big stuff.” I say to you, don’t minimize the power of God. He is all-powerful. He is all knowing. He is supreme. And I am so thankful that he is not so distracted by the “big” events of the world that he has no time for me. Because not even the biggest events in my life can compare to the massive needs in the world.  If God was “too busy dealing,” he would never have time for me. Or probably you.

But he is not too busy. He is not distracted. He is not a distant God that only cares about “big things.” WE are HIS. HE cares about US. EACH of us. He is WITH us.

And he rejoices over us with singing.

Ellia had a little prayer with some massive faith. And she is God’s. HE cares about HER.

Sweet Ellia, GOD delights in YOU. HE was rejoicing over YOU with singing on your birthday. HE was celebrating YOU.

Happy 4th birthday, my beautiful niece.

A rose by any other name

Posted in joy found, laughter, my boy, my girl, parenting (aint for sissies) by

Last week, Annalise had a great time at a beach-themed VBS with her friend Payton. (Thanks for the invite, Rachel.) On the last day, she brought home a purple beach bucket full of all her crafts from the week, her name written neatly on the outside of the bucket in gel paint. She was quite proud.

Except she has apparently inherited some OCD/perfectionist qualities from, ahem, I have no idea where, because she was bugged by a slight smudge on the second letter “a” in her name, right along the stem of the letter. Now let me be clear when I say that whoever wrote her name – in gel paint, on a round bucket – did an amazing job. Perfect printing in a perfectly straight line on a curved surface, all done from a squeeze bottle. I was impressed at the obvious talent of one who most certainly was a fellow perfectionist.

But as flaws often do, the smudge on the a wore at my little 4-year-old idealist. First, she pointed it out to me. “Do you like my bucket, Mommy? There is just a little smudge right here though.” I told her I loved her bucket, and I didn’t even notice the smudge. But now that she pointed it out, I liked it. It gave the bucket character. (I’ve had practice with this sort of thing, you know. I may have had to use that line for myself once or twice before.)

Then she announced – more to herself than anyone – that the smudge was “no big deal” and did her very best to ignore it. But I could see as she played with her perfect purple bucket with her almost-perfect name, it was still bothering her. She’d stop every once in a while to rub the smudge, pinch it, trying to squish away the imperfection.

Finally, she had enough. “Mom, I don’t like that smudge. I’m taking it off!” Before I could stop her, she had the corner of the letter a and promptly ripped that smudge – and entire stem of the a – right off her bucket… Leaving a perfect letter c behind.

Now as any perfectionist knows, a misspelling is much much worse than a minor smudge.

She gasped. “OH NO! Now I have a c instead of an a!” Panic on her face, she stared at the torn letter. “A-N-N-C-L-I-S-E! Mom, what’s my name now????”

I didn’t hesitate. “Ank-leese,” I said matter-of-factly.

Another gasp. “But I don’t like the name Ank-leese! It’s not even pretty!”

“I don’t think it’s so bad,” I responded. “Here. Let me take a picture of you with your new name, Ank-leese.”

“Well, I’m not smiling if you do. Ank-leese is not a happy name.”

I took the picture anyway, laughing the entire time. “Say ‘cheese‘ Ank-leese!”a

It’s very clear to me now why Jacob gets such a kick out of tormenting his sister. She just makes it so fun.

“MOMMY! It’s NOT FUNNY. How would you like it if your name was Hol-key?”

Hol-key? This girl is too much. I laughed harder. “That wouldn’t be so bad, Ank-leese. I don’t think I’d mind.” Still laughing.

“Well, I’m gonna start calling you that! Stop laughing, Hol-key!”

“That’s mom-key to you, Ank-leese.”

Apparently sarcasm and teasing don’t go well with a perfectionist’s frustration. Poor girl. So I told her that no matter what her name is, I will always love her the same. Annalise by any other name… even if that name is Ank-leese. Either way, she is mine and she is God’s and she is perfect to me.

We talked a bit about the bucket, and how she let a little thing bother her, and by trying to make it perfect, she only made it worse. That it is sometimes really hard, but that we have to be okay when something isn’t exactly how we want it, or isn’t what we think is “just perfect.”

And since she sometimes struggles with negativity, we talked about how we need to be thankful for our many blessings, and focus on the so many good things and not focus so much on what we think are bad things. 

Then I asked her about the story they learned in VBS that day. Ank-leese told me they heard the story about Jesus washing the disciples’ feet. We talked about how Jesus was perfect, fully God and fully man, that he could have come as a rich king, or however he wanted, but that he came into a poor family as a baby. I said how amazing it was that he, God, would do that, that he would wash the feet of the disciples. “Do you know what that means, Annalise?”

She thought about it, scrunched up her face and responded. “Yeah. It means he had some really dirty water.”

Lesson over.

“It is God who arms me with strength and makes my way perfect.” ~ Psalm 18:32

Oh, and I almost forgot… Jacob maybe learned his lesson about eating his boogers. No more floss needed. Yesterday he came to me and said, “Mommy, I picked my nose. But do not woo-wee. I did not eat it. I put it wight back in my nose.” Aaaand onto a new lesson…

And it’s Leesie, by a nose…

Posted in blogging, laughter, my boy, my girl, parenting (aint for sissies) by

After a fun-filled but very busy week, a jammed 4-year-old finger on Friday night followed by x-rays Saturday (it’s not broken, phew!), we were happy to have a low-key family day at home on Sunday. And what’s the best way to end a lovely autumn day in the middle of summer? Movie and popcorn. Can’t get much more low-key than that.

Unless of course, you have a curious 2-year old hanging around.

I was cleaning the kitchen while the kids watched their movie and munched away when Jacob came waddling into the kitchen, eyes watery, suddenly coughing and sneezing popcorn all over the place. I knew what he had done instantly and was actually surprised he hadn’t before. Or that I hadn’t predicted it.

“Jacob! Did you put popcorn in your nose?” He nodded, face scrunched and uncomfortable.”Is it gone? Did you get it all out?”

The watery eyes told me the answer. Something was still in there. I set him on the counter and shined a flashlight up his nose. Sure enough, I could see the kernel lodged waaaaayyy up in his nasal cavity, clearly unreachable by us.

At 9 o’clock on Sunday night, I really really didn’t want to have to head into the ER to retrieve said popcorn kernel. So I called my friend Jamie, who just happens to be a nurse for Bellingham Ear Nose and Throat. She suggested plugging one nostril and having him blow out the other side.

Problem: I’ve never actually taught Jacob to blow his nose yet. Most attempts result in him breathing heavily in rather than out, which result in further coughing and discomfort when already congested. I guess I have the same attitude towards nose-blowing as I do with potty training… He’ll figure it out eventually.

Except that now we needed him to blow his nose, and doing it incorrectly could result in an even greater problem. We worked on it for a bit with only a few scary deep inhales, and soon enough, he had the blowing down. But the kernel wasn’t budging.

While I was still on the phone with Jamie giving her the play-by-play and writing down the number for their office so I could reach the on-call doc, Annalise walked into the room looking a bit sheepish. Her face was red. She was awfully quiet. I knew something was up when I saw her lean against the wall and kick her foot back and forth like her knee was a hinge with a lazy porch swing below it. Nerves. That’s her sign.

Matt spoke first. “You did not. Tell me you didn’t.” She bit the corner of her lip. “Annalise, did you do it? Did you put popcorn in your nose, too?”

The look on her face was a dead giveaway. Popcorn jammed in nostril. Times two.

Let me tell you, you have not lived until you have two children in your kitchen covering one nostril and blowing with all their might to shoot popcorn kernels out the other side. Jamie assured me that while she’s had lots of kids come in with something stuck in their nose, never once did she have siblings come in at the same time.

We’re just special like that, I guess.

My mom says it must skip a generation, this genius-shoving-stuff-up-your-nose-and-getting-it-stuck thing, because my dad did it once, too. Only he was an adult. And it was a whopper. (Not the burger. The chocolate covered malt ball.) He got a little concerned (read panicky) when he could feel the chocolate melting. I think he’s learned his lesson, because I haven’t seen him shove anything in there recently.

So on our “low-key” Sunday night, we managed to avoid a trip to the ER because both kids did eventually shoot the popcorn out. Leesie’s fired out right to the floor, but Jacob made a direct hit with one snot-covered popcorn kernel onto his dad’s chest, where it stuck. It was then we realized that while he did actually shove a popcorn kernel in his nose, Annalise had shoved an actual popped corn. I guess she wanted to one-up her brother.

She does that sometimes. Like when Jacob says to me completely out of the blue and in his sweetest voice, “Mommy, you sooooo boooootiful.” And then Annalise says to me in her sweetest voice, “Mommy, you’re beautifuler than Jacob thinks.” Hmm.

And Leesie wins by a nose…

When all was said and done, I was slightly disappointed the ER visit didn’t occur, because, well, it honestly felt a bit adventuresome to go in with TWO kids needing harmless and rather humorous issues taken care of. We could have people-watched in the ER lobby into the wee hours on Sunday night as a family. And really, how fun is that with two kids under 5 that should be home in bed?

Ah well. Two kids home safe and sound, nostrils thoroughly cleaned out for deep-breathing during sleep. Crisis averted.

And then I ran across this cartoon a friend and colleague gave me about a month ago. It seemed so very fitting tonight:

From Baby Blues Cartoon by Jerry Scott and Rick Kirkman.

big boy or baby?

Posted in laughter, my boy, my girl, parenting (aint for sissies) by

It’s summer. He’s 2 and 2 months. I’m home. He’s home. So naturally, I’ve been working on potty training Jacob.

When I say working on potty training, what I really mean is, I’ve set him on the pot a total of 4 times in the last month hoping he’ll have success. Mostly, I’m working on it by talking to him about it.

And when I say talking to him about it, what I really mean is, every time I change an unusually nasty diaper, I mention to him that since he is such a big boy, he could really go potty in the toilet next time.

So really, the “potty training” has consisted of me telling Jacob – several times in the last few weeks – what a good idea it would be for him to go potty like a big boy and hoping he figures it out for himself.

No luck so far.
I know, shocking.

I’m holding out, though. For a little while at least. Because I’m not new to this parenting thing, you know. I was a master, a master, at training Annalise.

It pretty much went like this:

  • 5 months pregnant. Plan to potty train 2-year-old before baby boy arrives.
  • Take advantage of 2-week Christmas break. PERFECT! Because Christmas break is not busy at all, and anyone can potty train a 2 year old in 2 weeks time while starting and finishing Christmas shopping, baking, packing, traveling, and staying with family out of town. NO problem.
  • Use the first day of break to cover the carpet in hospital pads, set up the potty chair, play games and take “potty breaks” while reading books about potty training. On hand: stickers and star chart, treat rewards (m&ms), and big girl panties. Mine, I mean, because they’ll be needed later when I have to put ’em on and deal with it.
  • Begin the day calmly, but keep the “potty mood” exciting! This is BIG GIRL stuff going on here!
  • By afternoon, take a nap at nap time because, well, I’m worth it. And because seriously, I’m working a heck of a lot harder at this potty training thing than she is.
  • By bed time, finish off the m&m rewards and go to bed less than thrilled about the lack of success. No worries, though. There is always tomorrow.
  • Day 2: Begin the same as Day 1. Give up after the first accident because 5-month-pregnant-gag-reflexes are on overload and frankly, you don’t want to deal with bigger messes than this.
  • Sulk for weeks – then months – about having to change diapers still.
  • Accept the fact that even though you have a very bright and capable 2 and 1/2 year old, you will be changing TWO kids’ diapers soon, because you seriously suck at potty training.
  • Thank God for the miracle when, just weeks before her brother is born, Annalise says to you out of the blue, “Mommy, I think I’ll wear big girl panties today.” And she does. And never once has an accident even though you rarely remember to take her. She just asks to go on her own.
  • Consider your potty training a success. You have about 3 weeks of no diapers before the little man arrives. Job well done.

So like I said, I’m pretty much a pro at this and am really just holding out for Jacob to show his readiness. Yeah, that’s it.

But just to speed the process along, I decided to take the boy shopping and get him some big boy undies. You know, for motivation. He picked out the Disney Cars undies and was super excited. Right up until I told him what they were for. Because really, he has no intention of going potty in the toilet.

I told him big boys go potty in the toilet… He told me he is not a big boy! I told him that yes, he actually is.

It was at this point during our conversation that he told me why he is not a big boy. “But I not a big boy, Mommy. Because I stiwl sweep in my cwib. And because I way-oh (wear) die-pees (diapers). And because I’m dist a baby stiwl. I your wittle baby, Mommy. So I can’t go potty in da toe-let.”

Funny. “Babies” don’t usually reason like that. Hmmm.

“Jacob, Mommy thinks you’re a big boy. I know you’re a big boy. Will you just wear the big boy undies and see? It will be so fun! You’ll get to wear Lightning McQueen Undies!”

“No. I not wearing dem.”

“Jacob, will you please try…”

“NO! I NOT wearing dem!” This is beginning to remind me of a dinner conversation about not eating spaghetti.

“How about you just try them on. Will you put them on for mommy?”

“No. I WILL NOT! I will NOT. PUT. DEM. ON.”

It was at this point I had finished buckling him in his car seat. I opened the package from Target and handed him a pair of Lightning McQueen undies to hold while he thought it over. Because clearly, from that last statement, he indicated he would think about it.

I unloaded the rest of the cart in silence and fumbled through my purse for my phone, paying no attention to the strong-willed “baby” in my back seat.

But then, hope!  He showed signs of giving in… “Mommy, I will wear da undies. I will wear dem for you.”

Yes! My plan is working! Proud of myself for my convincing tactics, I move from the back of the van to his open door to look at my son to tell him what a big boy he is. And I see him. Grinning from ear to ear. Clearly proud of his own tactics. “See Mommy. I wear dem for you. Wight away!”

Not exactly what I had in mind.

Just the same, he is cute as can be and rather hilarious. So I set the package of undies on his lap and – phone now found – hold it up to take a pic. “CHEEEEEEEEEEESE!” He shouts.

And I laugh, seriously impressed he was able to pull them over his head. Not an easy task, actually.

Big boy. Big boy indeed.

the one my soul loves

Posted in Eucharisteo, grace, holidays, my husband by

For a few weeks now, I’ve wondered what I could write on here for an anniversary post. I wanted to write something to you. I mean, I’ve already written about many things I love, things that have changed me. God and his grace, our kids, the twins, my parents. And although you’ve appeared in some of the posts, it is usually just so I can tease or mock you. (It’s my way of flirting with you, you know.)

But I couldn’t quite figure out how to write an anniversary post. What do I say to the person who has been there as I’ve struggled through my anger towards God and listens as I learn about His grace, to the person who held me through the twins, who talked me through the fears and did more disgusting jobs than I’d care to admit, who loves me in my mommy failures and laughs with me through the hilarious moments of parenting? I’ve written about all those things, but what do I write to you, the one who has been there all along?

And then I realized the words I’m looking for…

Thank you.

Thank you for holding me, loving me, guiding me, helping me grow.

The verse we used on our wedding invitations was,“I have found the one my soul loves.” ~Song of Solomon 3:4

It’s funny, how perspectives change after just 7 years of marriage. I did love you then. But 7 years later, I am realizing I didn’t know how much I could love you. I didn’t fully understand the depths of that verse. I know now. No, I’m learning.

My soul loves how you hold me in quiet, when there are no words to describe the hurt.

My soul loves how you walk in the door and make the kids and I laugh after a long day for us, and for you at work. When I am about to pull my hair out, and they are about to knock each others’ teeth out. You calm us and help us enjoy being together once again. A “magic closet” that gets rid of grumpiness? Pure genius.

My soul loves how you ask me questions that stretch my faith, at just the right moment. How when I scream and yell at God and act irrationally, you are steady. And you are okay that I am not.

My soul loves how in my most unlovable moments, you love me most. I think you are showing me a glimpse of how God loves me fully. Unconditionally. You love me like that. You love me with grace.

My soul loves how you put us first. How there is nothing you’d rather be doing than just being with me and the kids.

And even if my ears don’t always, my soul loves, and I mean really really loves, when you sing, and when you make up songs that keep us all laughing and singing too.

My soul loves a million more things about you.

And I just wanted to say thank you. For loving me like that. I love you, too. Really bad.

Happy anniversary, to the one my soul loves.