Thursday, October 30, 2008

A Previous Nazi Youth's Perspective

I'm not sure how many more times I will post on this subject, and I'm sorry to anyone who is sick of reading about politics. However, there are still some things I need to say.

Now, as I've stated in a recent post, there are many, many things that scare me about Barack Obama. One of the points I made was a comparison between Barack Obama and Adolf Hitler.

I came across this article, written by a previous Nazi Youth. If you don't feel you can take my word for it, perhaps you can take it from someone who has been there. Not only does he address the downslide of America, comparing it to Hitler's Germany, he addresses the abortion issue itself in a way I couldn't. And it touched me to the core. http://www.wnd.com/index.php?fa=PAGE.view&pageId=79227

Maybe skeptics will understand more why I have become relentless on this topic. Our future - even Canadians - could very well be at stake if this man is in power.

And yes, I do believe a McCain/Palin administration, more than any previous administration, have the greatest chance of changing the abortion laws. They know and understand the sanctity of human life as God sees it.

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Convinced

I am convinced that the first thought that goes through Seth's brain as he is waking up is "go....get....mommy". It doesn't matter if it's in the middle of the night - and it ALWAYS is - or after his afternoon nap, his eyes are hardly open when he calls for me. He comes to my bedside every single stinkin' night. He has learned that he is not coming in with us; believe it or not, we've won that battle. But he does know that I will go lay beside him. That battle I haven't won - yet.

I'm tired.

I am also convinced that it is impossible for Seth not to talk. He MUST finish his sentence. And repeat himself if he feels he wasn't quite understood. He reminds me very much of the son of some very good friends of ours (who will recognize this if they read the post). Their son absolutely has to be heard. He has to finish what he's saying and will not tolerate being cut off before he's finished. If he's allowed to finish what he's saying, then he's perfectly content. It's a lesson in patience to a parent.

And I'm weary.

Today he was at his worst. As a rule he's been better on the bus. Today all good behaviour flew out the window. He asks me constantly while I'm driving, "mom, have I been good?" in front of the other kids. I give him the thumbs up if he's been good and try to avoid the question altogether if he hasn't because he gets very upset at my answer. However, he will not tolerate my avoidance of his question. He will ask it until he gets an answer, and get louder until I do.

So, being particularly tired and not feeling well (he has strep throat for the THIRD time in two months), he was a complete pest to Hannah, to the point that I had to separate them. He also yelled at her, and then yelled at me when, upon finally answering his question that he asked for the third time (about whether he was being good or not), I told him that, no, he was not behaving particularly well. He then yelled at me again, "BUT MOM. I AM GOING TO LISTEN! IF YOU JUST ASK ME TO, I'LL LISTEN! MOM. MOM. MOOOOOOOOOM!"

This is not pleasant to handle with a bus full of kids. It is simply impossible to deal with correctly while driving a bus. I don't feel that I can pull over and have a chat (and I certainly can't spank him at that time) because it will make the other kids late getting home. However, I do have to deal with it to a certain extent because it's not fair otherwise when I've had to be very stern with some of the other kids' behaviour. It's tricky to say the least.

He spent quite a bit of time in his room today (which is punishment to him, but I also thought he might actually get some much needed rest), so much so that he reminded me of Marvie Snuffelson (from Jungle Jam, similar to Adventures in Odyssey but the characters are all animals). Marvie had to go to his room on pretty much every episode because of his smart mouth. Today Seth was getting to the point that he was going to his room on his own because he knew he hadn't been listening or was sassing me.

Because he is not feeling well and was overtired, I did have compassion. I even laughed when he persisted.....again.....with,

"MOM, I AM GOING TO LISTEN! MOM, IF YOU'LL JUST TELL ME, I'LL LISTEN! MOM!............." with tears coming down his face. Seth has yet to figure out that he needs to act on his words, not just speak them.

I was also convinced today that he really couldn't help himself. No, this isn't a cop-out, and I'm not excusing him. However, with all the circumstances working against him, I don't honestly think he could have acted much better.

Consequently, bedtime came very early tonight (so early that I'm able to post this by 8:30!). And so a very tired mama is heading to bed early tonight as well. Goodnight.

Monday, October 27, 2008

Call It A Miracle
















Consider this fact: My son needs help for just about everything. Yes, I know, I've enabled him on this journey, finding myself extremely impatient, (particularly with his habit of slow eating - wonder where he got that from?) so much so that I find myself helping him out a lot, especially when there is a need to be somewhere. Of course, he's picked up on this and finds no reason at all to hurry.

He can do everything himself. But when we're dealing with a boy who is very easygoing, coupled with a lazy streak (usually), combined with a mother who is impatient and just wants to get done, he is often helped too much.

That's why when I started him out making his bed this last week, I've been very pleasantly surprised at how well he's done. The pictures above are the step by step process of the job he did this morning. Pretty impressive for a four-year-old, huh?


For breakfast, they each had a special pancake that daddy made for them. Daddy gets bored and likes to see what designs he can make with pancake batter, so this treat awaited them this morning. All in all, it was a good beginning to the day.

Friday, October 24, 2008

Warm Fuzzies

When I think of my daughter lately, I get the warm fuzzies. While my son is going through a very saucy stage - where he will soon find his lips pasted on the wall - my daughter is the exact opposite and doing my heart some good. God has this way of letting them take turns and giving me a break so that they are generally not both too bad at the same time. For that I'm thankful.

She has been particularly sweet to her brother. I thought when they started playing school a couple of weeks ago that the novelty would have worn off by now. It hasn't. In fact, it's picked up a notch to the point that Hannah "teaches" Seth every day in school. I gave her some curriculum suitable for his age and she is going through the book page by page.

And miracle of miracles, he is listening. And cooperating. (I know, maybe he's not so bad after all. Just mouthy. No big deal).

She is also doing remarkably well in her own school work. Yesterday, she asked me if she could do school with Seth before she did her own school. I said that no, she couldn't. She needed to complete her own work first. So, very compliantly, she took out all of her subjects and asked me if she could choose what to do. I told her that she could.

To my great surprise, she chose something in every subject. Normally we do one or two subjects in a day, completing several days worth of lessons, making it all equal in the end. It just seems to work the best for Hannah. This time, she did some spelling, some language arts, some reading, some creative writing, some math, some cursive writing, and even some health. And she did it very well.

Having heard recent stories of Hannah's meltdowns over creative writing, my sister Laura bought Hannah a journal. She thought this might encourage her to write more, allowing her to build confidence. And she was right. Hannah has written a few entries in the journal; precious, unforgettable ramblings. And I'm very glad for my sister's bright idea.

Finally, she is becoming more independent and less anxious. Recently my kids and I were at Wendy's. Half way through eating, Seth informed me that he had to go to the bathroom. I asked him if he could hold it, and he was agreeable to this - for about ten seconds. I realized he really had to go and did not relish the idea of leaving all the uneaten food on the table while my kids and I headed to the bathroom. So, Hannah surprised me by offering to stay at the table by herself while I took Seth to the bathroom.

You have to know Hannah to realize how big of a step this is for her. She shocked me. And you have to know me to realize how big of a step it was for me to actually consider this. So, after some brief contemplation, I gave her strict instructions on strangers, and left her alone at the table while I took Seth to the bathroom. And she did fine.

My girl. She was just born yesterday. Tomorrow she'll be married. (At least this is what my husband likes to tell me, to which I sharply tell him to "hush up".) However, it's pretty much true. And it's especially obvious at times like these, when she shows tremendous growth in a very short time.

My Lovey. My Rosie. My Petunia.

My girl.

Thursday, October 23, 2008

Can't Help But Wonder

Okay, personal dislike and distrust of Obama aside, I have always wondered this and have not yet seen anyone ask it.

Barack Obama favors income redistribution. He believes in equality and thinks it's only fair that wealth is shared so the rich do not keep getting richer and the poor do not keep getting poorer.

The 2006 census of American households state that the median income for all families is $48,201.00. For married couple families, it's $69,716.00.

My question is this: How can intelligent people be duped into believing in a philosophy such as this, spoken by a politician who earns hundreds of thousands of dollars more (almost $1,000,000.00 in fact, according to their 2006 tax return) than the median income for married couples with families, without asking him to practice what he preaches? If he thinks it unfair for some to be rich and some to be poor, then HAND IT ON OVER, BABY.

I would like to see Barack Obama, a preacher of this redistribution nonsense, live on $69,716.00 a year. Share his wealth. Help bring a lot of poor people up to par. Perhaps Michelle can donate her $300,000 plus annual income to charity. She could always volunteer her time for the University of Chicago Hospitals if she's bored.

After all, fair is fair.

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Strange Rituals

Since one of the main reasons I blog is to keep a record of sorts on my childrens' antics (so I can torture them when they're older), I thought it prudent to write about their.....unique.....bedtime rituals. This may not even be funny to some readers of this blog, but that's okay. I do not want to forget the many nights I endured these routines.

Every night, after we all pray together before bed, Hannah goes to her room and I tuck Seth in first. She starts by carefully getting her bed ready. This involves the proper arrangement of her big stuffed lamb, her stuffed Eeyore, her care bear, and her little Hannah (a tiny little doll she named after herself). She would have had several more stuffed somethings if I let her, but they were overtaking her bed and leaving her little room to sleep, so she had to make the choice of which ones she wanted sleeping with her. After carefully arranging her companions, I bring her some water for a little sip. This is essential. After I tuck her in, we begin by saying, "noses" (and rubbing noses), "butterflies" (and giving butterfly kisses to each eye), "chins" (we rub chins - both sides!), "cheeks" (we touch our cheeks together on both sides), "foreheads" (we rub foreheads on both sides), "kisses" (I kiss both her cheeks, and she kisses both of mine). She then repeats this saying, every night:

"I know that dad works tomorrow;
I know that there's no church tomorrow (or that there is church if there is);
I know there's no Sunday School tomorrow;
Am I having school tomorrow? (to which I reply yea or nay);
I'm going to start cuddling my big lamb, my Eeyore, my care bear, and my little Hannah;
I'm going to start playing with my pillows if I feel like it, if I want to;
I'm going to start sleeping if I feel like it if I want to;
I'm going to start imagining if I feel like it if I want to."

She then tells me she loves me and tests me out to see if I'm up to the quadzillion questions she has stored up for just such a time (which I'm usually not). I then go out the door, leave it open about a quarter of the way - this is important, because if it's an eighth of an inch out she notices - and blow kisses and wave from the partially open door.

Now for Seth. I have to carry him to bed. Yes, I know I could make him walk but I guess I don't happen (at this time ) to see a reason why I can't carry him, so I do. He has to put his book away and then turn off his light (while in my arms). I count to four, with kisses on his cheek in between counts, and throw him on his bed. He then says, very seriously, "We can snuggle for a bit after kissing, okay?" To which I very agreeably reply, "Okay." I then kiss his chin, his nose, his forehead, and each cheek in that precise order. Every once in a while he will giggle if I change it up a little, but most of the time this is serious business. He repeats the exact same pattern of kisses on me. He then says,

"America, America." Then, "We all did it!"

I have no clue where this came from. None. If I happen to try to sneak in a different kissing pattern, ie., chins, cheeks, forehead, nose, he promptly tells me I can't because I'm not doing America. When I ask him exactly what America is, he draws a funny design in the air with his finger.

You see why I have to record this. There is simply no one else I know of whose son (or daughter) perform these strange rituals.

I finish off by snuggling him - which is rubbing his back or his belly (I'm telling you, I pity his poor wife) - for a few minutes. I then give him a quick sip of water, again essential, tuck him in and kiss him again on the cheek. As I stand by the door, he says,

"You can sleep with me on Wednesday, okay?"

Not Tuesday. Not Friday. Wednesday, and only Wednesday. Again. No clue. But in order for him to be at peace he must ask me this. I've learned to respond by saying "yes", because he has no expectations that I know of. We then blow kisses and wave a couple times before I go out the door.

Tonight as I was snuggling him, I told him that "there was only one Sethie".

"No there's not, mom. There's two Sethie's," was his reply.

"Who is the other Seth?" I asked.

"He's black. I've never seen him."

"Then how do you know he's black?" I ask.

"Because he is," was his response. "He doesn't live here."

"Does he have a mommy, daddy and a sister?" I asked.

"Yes. But he has two sisters," he says.

"He does? What are his sister's names?" I ask.

"Hannah and Doogy Foogy."

And a chuckle escapes from my mouth.

"Was I funny, mom? Did I make you laugh, mom?" he asks delightedly.

I give him a final, extra, squeeze. Yes. He did make me laugh. And smile.

And my heart is happy with my two, very unique, very wonderful children.

My precious gifts from God.

Monday, October 13, 2008

Recent Pictures

We recently went to visit Dave's family in Edmonton. On our way back, we stopped in Lloydminster at the Bud Miller All Seasons Park. It's a wonderful park, and it's half way home. We spent a couple of hours here before finishing the trip.

Here are a few pictures of the kidlets.






Seth, being the usual "monkey" boy.





I like this picture of Hannah because it shows how far she's come. A couple of years ago, heights and climbing apparatuses scared her. We had to talk her through trying anything. Now, she pretty much has it licked, and even if something frightens her, she fights her way through it and doesn't give up.





My angels amidst the beautiful backdrop of God's creation.








Dave posing with the kids.









On the "pirate" ship, as the kids call it.





Last but not least, this morning Seth told me to "come and look". He said he "made his bed". Usually he takes all his animals and pillow off and I make it, and then he puts them all back on. This morning he did it himself. I thought his lumpy version was too cute not to take a picture of. I was impressed that he tried without me asking him to.

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

Hannah's First Story

On my previous post, I mentioned that Hannah agreed to write me a story if I gave her three days to do it. Here is her story, verbatim:

once upon a Time
a littil Girl ran
away from Home
she Got lost in
the woods she ran
and ran but she could
not find her way
out of The woods
but finally her Dad
found her and she
Lived Happily ever
after


We have been working on beginning sentences with capital letters and ending sentences with periods. This needs some work (obviously). However, like I said previously, from three weeks ago going from the dog ran to this is quite a huge leap, in my opinion. I'm pretty proud of her.

And, like most little girls, daddy is obviously her hero.