Dramatics At It's Finest

My boy is sick. Translated that means the world is ending.

He has a simple cold. It started with a sore throat and has gone full blown into his head. He has nasal congestion and is coughing because of constant post nasal drip. The problem is that neither of my children will BLOW THEIR NOSE. I am at a loss to understand why. They would rather NOT breathe through their nose then blow it. I have never met any other kids their age who do not blow their nose.

I'm pretty much tired of his whining.

This afternoon we were waiting in the car while Hannah was at her piano lesson. Seth whined.

And whined.

And whined.

I ignored. And ignored. And ignored. I am determined that even though he is sick, I will not give him more attention when he whines. I must break him out of that nasty habit once and for all.

Because I was ignoring him, he decided to try harder. He turned to me, and in all seriousness said:

"Mom, I'm pretty sure I have cancer." {bottom lip quivering for full effect}.

I'm glad he told me. At least I'll have time to prepare.

Which Do You Prefer?

(Picture taken over two years ago.....my how they've grown up!)

Anyway.......tonight I had a little snuggle with my daughter. And played a game of "Which Do You Prefer?". In Which Do You Prefer, a silly game we started years ago, we give each other two things and ask which thing we prefer. Simple.

So tonight I asked her the usual. Which do you prefer.....roses or tulips? Gumballs or cherry candies? Lime green or orange? The rules are simple....if you can't answer then the game is over. After tiring my brain out trying to think of more unique things to pin her on, I finally told her it was her turn to ask me which I preferred.

What does the turkey ask?

Which do you prefer.......Hannah or Seth?

The game was over.

The imp.

Just Words About My Girl

Let me tell you a little bit about my girl.

She is very serious-minded. Yeah, she laughs and gets goofy like any normal eight-year-old child, but when it comes to important things, she is very serious. The more I see this trait in her, the more I appreciate it.

She is so serious-minded that she won't even sing a song if she knows she cannot apply the words of the song to her personally. For instance, there was a song playing today about having the Holy Ghost and being baptized in Jesus name, so she stopped singing when those lines were sung. She then explained to me that because she couldn't claim that to be true for her, she felt she shouldn't sing those words.

She is taking very seriously her decision on whether to live for God or not. This used to trouble me because I would see other children, even younger than her, get into the "groove" during church, worshipping and even receiving the Holy Ghost. She did not. She took everything in, thinking about it deeply, and getting upset at someone who tried to push or prod her in that direction.

But underneath it all, God has been talking to her heart. And in the way only a loving Father can do, he has been gently coaxing her to trust in Him.

She has been slowly opening up to me as well about how God is dealing with her. She tells me how she talks to Him. She tells me what she is afraid of, but then also admits that when she tells God about it that she is comforted.

Like a flower, she is slowly blooming. She is slowly trusting God. And because she takes this decision so serious, I am hopeful that when she does receive the Holy Ghost, she will also be a serious keeper of that precious gift.

One last thing.......she also has such a sweetness that I just love. We were at her grandmas and great-granny's house today. While they weren't looking, she wrote them each a personal note (telling them how much she loved them and that they were the best grandma/great granny in the world) and snuck it into each of their bedrooms to put on their pillows.

How I wish I could have seen their faces when they found the note......

Hannah's Poem

There once was a girl who sat on a log.

She sat there quite a while when out jumped a frog!

Hello, said the frog do you want to play?

No, said the girl. Just go away.

So the frog went away and made the girl sad.

Not like the frog, he was mad!

And she sat down and began to cry.

She sat quite a while and along came a fly!

Hello, said the fly do you want to play?

Yes, said the girl. Do not go away.

So they played all day and the girl did say.

I will never again say just go away.

Written by: Hannah, age 8

(Original and unedited)

Hannah's First Composition

Hannah began her piano lessons with her new teacher last week. At her first lesson, her teacher challenged her to find some Japanese piano music on YouTube and write down the titles of the songs she had listened to. Today, her second lesson, she challenged her to write her own composition, of any length, Japanese-style.

When Hannah told me this I must confess to having my doubts as to Hannah's willingness to complete this assignment. This is a girl who is very creative "in her imagination" but struggles putting that to paper. However, she surprised me.

This is her written composition. Below is her playing it. Keep in mind that she has only had one year of piano, has had most of the summer off (because her first teacher moved away and her second teacher did not work out). Additionally, the piano is out of tune (yes Mrs. Wizzle - we will be looking into it.....:-). And, she does play more complicated pieces, this is just very simple because she composed it herself.

Maybe I'm just a proud mama, but I do think it has a Japanese sound to it (having listened with her last week).

I am very, very proud of my daughter.

Future Plans

I just received a job offer to work in a doctor's office for a doctor I worked with in my early 20's. I'll be working a few hours in the evening twice a week, and on Saturday. Dave will be home with the kids (VERY important).....and also of extreme importance to me.....I'll be home to tuck them in bed at night (I couldn't have done it otherwise...).

Because of this, I had to go looking for a uniform for work yesterday. This is when my son found out that I was going to be going to work. He was devastated.

"You mean, you are going to work and leaving Hannah and I at home?" was his first inquiry.

I explained to him that he would be home with his dad - "won't that be fun...being with daddy?" - and that I would be home to tuck him into bed. He still would not be comforted. He walked around for at least an hour, very quiet, occasionally bringing up the fact that "he did NOT want me to go to work!" He also got it into his head that I was going to be a doctor (don't I wish...) and that I was working in a hospital, although I tried to correct him about this.

He is very concerned that I will not be around for him. This has become an obsession with him. He mentions regularly the fact that he doesn't want me to die.....thankfully just last night for the first time, I believe I really got through to him when I prayed for him that it is all in Jesus' hands, and that Jesus was there to comfort him. I can't give him false reassurances, I don't know the future. But I do know Jesus is the Comfortor, and thankfully, he was comforted. I believe his not wanting me to work is part of this separation-anxiety he is experiencing.

Anyway, this morning he woke up and made it his mission to please me. He even vocalized this. He is not always *bad*, but I am not sure that he always obeys me just to please me, either.

He was so good this morning that he even informed me ahead of time what he was going to do to be *good*. He did MORE papers than his sister (on her flyer route). He sat quietly while I cleaned the church (instead of running around like an orangutan). He walked quietly beside me at the store. He didn't have the "galloping greedy gimmies". I was so happy with this lad of mine and told him frequently. He wore a constant smile.

During lunch he informed me of the change in his future plans. Yes, he still wants to build tables and chairs (on Saturdays, to be exact). He wants to be an ice cream maker (on Sunday, to be exact). He wants to build roofs on houses - why NOT the house itself is a good question - and use bricks as well in his building (on Monday mornings, Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Thursdays and Fridays).

On Monday afternoon, however, he informed me that he was working with me at the hospital. Giving up on trying to straighten the location of my employment out, I asked him what job he would be doing.

"I'm going to be a doctor, mom," he answered.

Alrighty then. He's going to be a doctor - one afternoon a week - so he can work with me. I wonder what he would have done if I told him that I don't even work on Mondays? And that by the time he's a doctor, I would be looooonnnnng retired.....

To end this post.....completely unrelated......he kissed me on the cheek last night and told me that I was "the best great aunt he ever had!"

As long as I'm the best...I guess that's all that really matters....:-)

Reflection of Eleven Years

At some point in the middle of the night, on the eve of our eleventh wedding anniversary, my husband managed to yet again surprise me. Traditionally, he is a *gifted* surpriser. He enjoys very much thinking up new ways to surprise me on my birthday, Valentine's Day, Mother's Day or our anniversary. The most common thing he does is awaken me at some ghastly hour when I'm barely cognitive. When he does this, it's usually the gift that surprises me.

Last night I thought I had it figured out. I was expecting an early start. However, I awoke - on my own - at around 4:00 a.m., to find the shadow of this in the corner of my room:

(Note the perfect place for my children's art work.....)

My heart was glad and I smiled. I realized that he must have snuck out in the middle of the night to his *secret hiding place* in order for me to see this when I woke up. I found out later that his *secret hiding place* was out on the deck. Since it had rained nonstop for two days, the deck was left vacant and thus a safe place. I smiled as I imagined him creeping out onto the cold deck in the middle of the night to retrieve my prize.

This trait is one of the sweetest things about my husband.

While driving in the car the other night, I told both of the kids that daddy and I will be married eleven years on Saturday. My ever-inquisitive son piped up and said:

"Then Hannah came along? Then me?"

Tears came to my eyes. "Yes, Seth. You and Hannah are God's gifts to daddy and I," I answered.

I sit in awe of the last eleven years. There has been some extremely tough times when I didn't know if we would make it, as I am sure there are in most marriages. But tonight I have a grateful heart. I am married to a man who wasn't raised to have kindness. I am married to man who was taught to fight back hard or else you would be trampled on. I am married to a man who didn't have birthday parties and where birthdays were more of a verbal comment than anything else. Yet, through eleven years, I have seen him strive to be kind, because it's not his natural tendency. I have seen him learning to bite his tongue and not fight me back when I wanted to do nothing but fight.

And I am married to man who makes national holidays out of every special occasion in our family and perfected them to a fine art. He could actually teach seminars to other men on "how to make your family supremely happy on their special days". He could show men how to make their wive's day on a very limited budget.

My husband is NOT stingy. He puts my wants before his needs. The other day I called him to ask him if I could buy this couch (pictured above), which our neighbour was selling for $80.00. (Pretty good deal if you ask me......my couch of 16 years was starting to fall apart). Without hesitation he said that I could. When we are not budgeted for a couch AT ALL, $80.00 is a lot of money out-of-budget. He shops for his kids when he has a little extra - for no reason at all but that he loves to surprise them.

So, eleven years later, we are both still growing. Still striving to improve our relationship and our walk with God. We are not stagnating.

And I am so very thankful for this man that I married.

Getting Old

I had a serious conversation with my son tonight. It went like this:

"Mom, when I'm old and grown, will you have any more kids?"

"Uh, no Seth. I won't." With a straight face.

"Why not?"

"Because I'll be too old to have any more babies," I answered.

He pondered this while I read to him. I thought the conversation was over, but really, he was brooding during the whole story because as soon as I was done, he turned to me with tears in his eyes and said:

"Mom," {lips quivering} "I really, really don't want you to get old."

"Why not?" I asked.

"Because I don't want you to be old and wrinkled," was his reply. He was fully crying by this point. I know where these questions are coming from. We have been spending a lot of time with his great granny and, unfortunately, the fact that she is failing a little is an ever present part of conversation in our household.

"Seth, when I'm old and wrinkled, you'll be a grown man and you will feel differently about your mom being old and wrinkled then," I tried to explain.

"I will not! I will NEVER want you to be old and wrinkled!" he adamantly stated.

"What is it about being old and wrinkled that bothers you?" I asked him.

"Cuz when you're old and wrinkled, you'll likely get killed in a car accident!" he replied.

How do I get that out of his head? When I'm old and wrinkled I will die, but not likely in a car accident.......but that will not be any more reassuring to him. It's the whole death, dying and getting old thing that is pressing most on his mind. So we prayed. I asked God to comfort him. Then it was time for bed, so I told his dad about his concern so dad would pray for him as well. Before we all prayed, his dad's conversation with Seth began like this:

"Seth, don't you want to grow up and be a man? And do grown up things?"

"NO!" was Seth's reply.

"Don't you want to ever drive a car?" his dad asked.

"NO!" was Seth's reply.

"Don't you want to build buildings?" This hit the jackpot, because that is Seth's passion.

"Yes..." very quietly.

"Don't you want to go on a long walk in the woods, all by yourself?" dad asked.

"NO!" Okay then........

"Don't you want to go on a walk WITH A GIRLFRIEND?" dad asked.

"I already have a girlfriend," he said with a sigh. (Like, why would I need to be grown up if I already have a girlfriend, dad?)

Like duh. Of course. (She is 13 years old and goes to our church and he has had a crush on her since the minute she stepped in our door. She is also the sweetest girl in the world fortunately).

And even though we didn't quite convince him that it was okay to be old, it did get his mind off of the subject somewhat.

Oh the methods parents must take......

Squishy Cheeks And Other Things

Notice all the animals on my son's bed? Every night, he has to lay them in this EXACT order beside him. EVERY NIGHT. If he can't find one (which happens often enough) I have a hard time settling him down enough to go to sleep. I think he has a teeny wee bit of OCD.

He was such a wonderful little guy at church tonight. He snuggled down in my arms, turned my ear to his lips so he could properly whisper:

"Thank you God for giving me such a wonderful mom."

How simply sweet and heart melting is that? To top it off, he stroked my cheek and said:

"Mom, you have such squishy cheeks," (like squishy cheeks was a wonderful trait - and actually the first time I didn't mind having squishy cheeks) and "your cheeks are so kissable." Yes, he actually said that to his mother. Can you imagine how on earth I'm going to cope when he's older?

We are currently looking for a home on a deserted island.

He had two new questions for me as well.

"Mom, how do you know when dogs are laughing?" (which I think I know the answer for) and,

"Do fish have hearts?"

We haven't searched out the exact answers yet, but I find myself thoroughly enjoying his questions.

Today, my mother's heart is mush for my boy.

Fireworks And Such....

{Photo courtesy of my niece, Rachel}

Tonight we went to the fireworks. We had *front row* seats on the roof of a high rise condo. My kids were pretty excited when they heard we were going. However, we discovered that my poor son did NOT like the fireworks, at all. It has been a couple of years since we've been anywhere near fireworks and I honestly thought he would have gotten over his fear. He could not be convinced that they weren't going to land on us. Neither was he impressed with the noise.

Earlier today, this son-o-mine spent quite a bit of time constructing a new building. He then called me to come into his room to see the finished product.

"Do you know what it is, mom?" he asked.

"No," I replied. "Why don't you tell me."

"It's a saloon," he answered.

Oh.....

"What is a saloon?" I asked.

"It's a place where you go to relax and have a drink," he replied.

OH......!!!!

"Where did you hear about saloons?" I asked.

"On Freddi Fish and the Hogfish Rustlers," he explained. (One of his favourite CD's).

Later on, after talking about his newly constructed saloon to my niece, I asked him to tell me exactly what drinks were served in a saloon.

"Coke. Water. Orange juice. Strawberry juice. AND Banana juice," he answered.

Then my heart was comforted. His innocence wasn't shattered after all.

Until my *stinky* niece told him to make sure he told our pastor about his wonderful saloon.......

Looks like I'll have some 'splaining to do.