Category: being a mom

Outside!

We have spent some good time outside over the past few days enjoying the beautiful weather and soaking in the joys of

being barefoot outdoors (Mommy’s favorite).

Yesterday we made recycled milk jug bird feeders. Rachael picked brown for the paint color, which initially I thought to be kinda ugly, but shrugged and pulled it out. Post-project I think it cute because our milk jugs look like they’re filled with chocolate milk. =) We also used colored paperclips for the “string.”

With proper supervision,

We took our painting joys outdoors to the plastic picnic table I got for $2 at a garage sale last year. Old shirts made nice paint smocks.

Little one needed a hair tie to keep from tripping. =)

Then I handed them the paint brushes (strategically picking a smaller brush for the little one) and gave them one rule, “Paint the inside, not the outside.” Look at the concentration.

“Inside, not outside,” was the preschooler and toddler chant for the first five minutes of painting.

We used non-toxic and washable paint on the inside so should some rain water get in, we won’t kill the very Snow White friends we were intending to feed. I had an image of bird carcasses littering the yard and the cats losing all control and felt assured in my paint selection. =)

And also this was the reason I used washable, non-toxic paint.

They seemed to highly enjoy the project.

And they did a great job keeping the paint inside the milk jugs, with only a few splotches on skin and table.

Later we found some time to do sidewalk chalk before the late morning rain clouds approached.

Fill and dump mischief.

I just love being a part of their little thinking world.

And I was again reminded that she has become a little girl.

And while she may be getting huge… she’s still my baby.

– Great times had by all.

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The Fall.

All parents have been there, it’s the terror of the fall. That slow-motion fall that you know will result in bruising, scrapes, blood, head-banging, chin-banging, skidding, or other pains. It’s that helpless moment when everything went wrong and no one can stop it. The look of chaos on your child’s face as they feel completely out of control and helpless falling in mid air. The time in which you brace yourself and pray for the best, fearing the possibility of the worse. The fall. I’m not talking about the trip or the bump. I’m talking about the fall. The all-out fall that can only end in those sobs of pain or worse, that shriek of great pain.

I have found that the sinking feeling in your stomach doesn’t change when witnessing falls at older ages. That kind of a fall results in the same unpredictable outcome whether you’re a baby or a teenager, the first or the tenth kid. All parents should rightfully fear the fall.

Thinking about the fall, a few terrifying moments come to mind. A normal outing at the park, sitting around the picnic table with the cousins enjoying Popsicles. Abi was asleep in the stroller, she did that a lot at nearly four months and Rachael sat amongst a gaggle of cousins and her nearby her Daddy. I sat on the other side of the table with Abi and Uncle Ron when I saw it happen. Daddy was preoccupied and 21 month old Rachael fell backward, head-first off the picnic bench. For those of you who need a mental image, when you fall off a picnic bench your legs are the last things to dismount. Sure enough her head hit with a thump on the concrete, producing a bloodcurdling wail. I remember it like it was yesterday, being stuck on the wrong side of the picnic table to catch her. All I could do was pray for the best in that moment of terror. Watching her head bounce off the concrete didn’t aid in my assurance. We scooped her up, Daddy and I both at the same time – both of our hearts in the pit of our stomachs. We watched her walk for the rest of the afternoon and kept a look out for signs of a concussion. She was fine. Just rightfully shaken up. And you had better believe over-protection came thereafter for the next hour.

Today, while drawing outside with chalk, Abi tripped over her own feet while nearly running resulting in a Superman dive to the sidewalk. I thanked the Lord on impact that her elbow broke her fall instead of her face. But her feet and arm took the skidding impact of her 20 month old body. Mommy was instantly needed and with some antiseptic creme and many kisses, Abi returned to normal in five minutes of heavy sobbing into Mommy’s shirt. 

Or the time that Abi fell out of her booster seat, catching her chin on the table the way down. Her head bouncing backward in aftershock. My heart sank. Suddenly “you should have listened to Mommy” didn’t matter. She needed comforted and I needed to know she still had a tongue attached properly. Comfort and time produced healing, leaving behind the battle scar of a red spot.

I wonder what God’s face looked like as He saw Adam and Eve eat from the tree. I wonder if His heart sank to His stomach watching that slow-motion fall that He knew would result in bruising, scrapes, blood, head-banging, chin-banging, skidding, or other pains. It’s that helpless moment when everything went wrong and His redeeming love knew it was better not to stop it, though His compassion wanted to.

Being a parent is teaching me so much about the restraint and the heart and the compassion and the self-control and the reckless running that the Father has for His kids.

Being a parent is teaching me more about God

and forcing me to run to His arms all the more.

– thankful, even in the scrapes.

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Shorts, Sandals, Soap, and Seeds

Last night for pajamas I picked out none other than a pair of shorts. Now this is impressive on two levels. 1. The weather is warm enough for me to think this a good idea and 2. I’m was not freezing to death due to this pregnancy last night to even think about exposing my sun-needing legs.

For the past three pregnancies I have been a hot mess -literally, but for this one I’m cold. Take whatever housewife tales you want from that as to whether I am carrying a boy or a girl. 😉

Rachael has clearly voted for a girl, explaining a few times at random that Hannah (our girl choice name) is a really good name. I’m still not sure if she knows that her opinion will not create the gender of this baby.

In other news, our little red wagon has gotten much use amid the neighborhood walks. I had left it on the front porch after our first walk and thus been reminded about it since.

Yesterday it was so beautiful that we ditched the red wagon, due the distance we’d need to travel and the fact that if we bring the wagon then all 35lbs of a three year old feels the need to ride, and grabbed the stroller. Abi is still young enough that her legs give out at the end of the street. So instead of carrying the 26lb toddler on my hip, I thank the Lord for strollers and so does my back and arms.

After digging through the shoes box of hand-me-down shoes, I happily busted out a pair of little white (really off-white, but still lovable) sandals for my growing-footed toddler. Abi smiled as she wiggled her toes in the open air.

When Rachael asked for a pair of sandals as well, naturally, I was sad to not offer her the same excitement (Rachael LOVES getting clothes and shoes from the hand-me-down box ironically). So to the dollar store we headed. Oddly enough, our local dollar store has decent “throw away” shoes that are surprisingly well made. The sandals don’t usually make it to the hand-me-down box, as well as the Chuck Taylor’s (LOVE) do, but for $4, they have a great variety of styles and options. Rachael was thrilled to get to “pick out her own” shoes after I had weeded out the ones that would not fit with her wardrobe or the flip-flop between-the-toe ones that I knew she would highly dislike. So she picked these white ones with pink/purple butterflies (who would have thought) over the yellow/gray butterflied ones. I’m glad she picked them, they’re cute.

And of course until they break (your feet) in, they produce this:

When we turned the corner of our block on the way home we saw much to our squeals of delight and running, DADDY WAS HOME!!! I love watching a three year old’s reckless abandonment to hug her Daddy. “We just saw him at lunch,” isn’t going through her mind. She just adores him and Abi would have run too if she wouldn’t have been caged in Mommy’s favorite, a stroller. =) But Abi’s kicking legs and flailing arms spoke volumes of her intentions.

Bubble play with Daddy was a necessity on such a beautiful afternoon. These pictures brought to you by Matt’s photography skills. =)

Then two little ones delighted in standing on the back of the couch to watch Mommy refill the bird feeder. I watered just about everything but the bird feeder with small, weed-producing seeds. GREAT! But a successful bird feeder fill did eventually happen.

Dinner, nursery and youth group at church concluded our evening and produced a Mommy in pajamas of shorts tuckered out after a wonderful day.

Hope the weather finds you outside too. 

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Spontaneous Picnic at Duck Pond

For those of you with a dry wit, no our little family did not roast up some ducks for a picnic. But this afternoon after our library nursery rhyme group we spontaneously headed to a local duck park to have a picnic out in the warm sun.

We enjoyed our sandwiches, peanut butter and marshmallow for two lucky little girls, and tuna for two nutrition-minded adults.

With crackers and raisins still in hand we headed over to the ducks with a bag of mildly stale breadcrumbs.

We had not anticipated the affect of warm weather causing other families to have visited the ducks previously. So Matt and Rachael had a mini adventure trying to lull the already-full fat waddlers over to Mommy and Abi’s safe and comfortable bench. Abi, not enjoying the spontaneity of animals (they move too fast) warmed up to the idea of scattering bread a few inches from her feet after first starting the adventure in the safety and comfort of said bench. 

Rachael, fearless when her Daddy’s there to protect her, had a great time emptying the bag and distributing handfuls of bread all over the sidewalk in an effort to get them in the pond water. With increased practice, her aim and ability provided more comfortable distances for the over-eating pleasures of our new winged friends. But due to their previous meals, interest was soon lost and we found ourselves quite obliviously still unloading our bread for future pond-life snacks.

Then came the park play, critical when any park is in view.

 Abi trying to figure out how to approach crossing a bouncy bridge. 
She eventually decided that walking was acceptable when clinging to Mommy’s hand. Rachael also needed some reassuring when said bridge moved highly unpredictably and frighteningly.

The slide adventures were fun. 
As were the methods of getting to the slide: challenging and fun.

And then we headed over to the swings, upon Rachael’s leadership decision. Check out the contrast in the responses to the swings below.

 Verses:

I would like to take this moment to inform you that we did not offer or enforce Abi riding the swing. Abi chose to get in the swing, a choice we always leave up to her without any persuading, because inevitably every time the above terrified face occurs and immediate rescuing is required. Abi DOES NOT like swingset swings. Not in the safety and comfort of our backyard, not at the park, not when everyone else is doing it. Abi and swingset swings are a BIG no-no. Yet I find it funny that she is in love with the concept of swinging, from afar the idea of swinging does look fun, but the actual event of swinging always ends up the same horrifying way. God love the little girl. That face just makes you want to reassure the poor thing that NEVER AGAIN will we ever let her convince herself that she might like swings. But alas, we let her steak her independence (provided that it isn’t defiant or harmful) and then rescue her from her former drive when it turns to trauma.

So much fun had by all on our spontaneous picnic at the duck pond. Even a left-behind dinosaur friend enjoyed our company.

Enjoy the beautiful weather, all, and please… by all means, please don’t roast up the local ducks. 😉

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To Take the Bag Home…

I’d like to take the bag home. I saw a woman leaving with the bag. Her smile was big, “the scary window” had passed. Life alive inside.

I’d like to take the bag home, the one filled with hope, life, and joy. Bustling to the brim with “new pregnancy” freebies. And the Dr.’s water bottle. Even the little urine sample cup.

I’ve been praying to take the bag home, this time. I know You hear my prayers. The bag matters to You. It matters to me. It even mattered before.

I’d like to take the bag home, God, if it could please be in Your will. Last time it was left on the chair. She was gone. The bag was unneeded… nonfunctional without her heartbeat.

I’d really like to take the bag home, the first trimester accomplished. And tell of the good news to more than just a handful. Celebrating life as You create and prefect.

I’m praying to take the bag home, this time, Lord. Thank You for hearing my prayers. Thank You for the peace You bring, the comfort within, that in Your arms I can securely ask

to take the bag home.

* written February 8, 2012

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Priority Announcements

We told Rachael and Abi about our pregnancy last night. Abi just wanted in her bed, it was late. =) But Rachael was quite excited. She kept saying that we could have a little brother and a little sister. TWO babies later. Um…. no, child. Nice try, though. hehehe. But it was pretty sweet that a lot of Rachael’s joy was for Abi getting to be a big sister too.

Looking forward to our secret being a new normal.

– thankful.

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