Aug. 29, 2007
They start so young!
|
Okay, still on the subject of boys. They just afford so much to write about. A few weeks ago I was heading to K-mart to get my 13 year old daughter some new bras. I brought my 2 yo son with me to give the rest of the family a chance for the ringing in their ears to stop (we still haven't found the volume control on him!). We stopped by the post office on the way and as I was coming out I saw a young woman who apparently missed the "modesty bulletin". My son saw her and said "I want to go in her ca" I ignored it and we drove on. When we arrived at K-mart the mannequin just inside the door was sporting a bikini. As we strolled past my son looked and said "I want to go with hu". I sighed, undeterred from my errand thinking "his father is really going to have his work cut out for him!". Turning the corner into the bra section my son gasps and yells "Boobs!!!!" I think in the future I"ll give the rest of the family ear plugs and go shopping alone! What do all of you ladies with lots of boys do? I had three girls first with a 7 year gap between my youngest girl and my son. Anyone who tries to tell me it's nurture not nature...well I've got some ocean front property in Arizona to sell you! This wonderful little man used to greet me each morning with "Mom, Micah's hungy." But yesterday morning was "Mom, Yook, Micah's wee wee's hard." Guess who doesn't want to wake up to that! We are really working on training him to be modest himself...but apparently there is something wonderful about knowing that all you have to do is run toward your sisters naked and you rule the room. Everyone runs in terror, like a scene from a bad monster movie from the 70's. It's like raising my own little Calvin of the notorious Calvin and Hobbs. I can't believe I can relate to a comic strip! Potty training is just another opportunity for him to point out his "peanuts" as he calls it and marvel at the handy work of God. I just respond matter of factly, "very nice...now wipe!". For all you mom's of boys out there...I'm getting my momscout badges and I will personally rise up and call all of you blessed!!! |
Aug. 29, 2007
Proof for Guardian Angels!!!
|
I have a wonderful busy energetic boy. He is almost three and I pray daily he will make it to 5. So far in his short life, actually just in the last 4 months, he has fallen off a swing onto his face causing his face to split open just below the nose requiring 6 stitches. He has eaten poison berries from a deadly nightshade plant and got to drink an activated charcoal cocktail and spend 5 hours on heart monitors. We were the happiest room in the ER that night, but I can think of several other ways I'd rather have one on one time with my son! Then he decided to fall from a four foot cement wall onto cement stairs, landing on his face of course. Oh, I almost forgot his first shaving lesson. Didn't go so well, but could have been worse! And let us not forget yesterday, ah yes, yesterday...the girls tried a science experiment using oxiclean and baking powder. I don't know exactly what they expected to happen, but it did produce a lot of bubbles. I was thoughtful enough to have them put it in the kitchen where he couldn't get to it, but someone left the gate open. I thought I might have to give Susan from Poison Control a call (yes we're on a first name basis now!) but he only tasted it he didn't drink it. Then there's the unusual craving he has for tire shine spray and fabreeze. Tell me, with this child of mine, that there is no guardian angel, possibly several in my case, working overtime. Boy: Noun-Noise with dirt on it! |
Aug. 23, 2007
The Death of a Child
|
I'll start out by stating that I do not have a child that has experienced a physical death. We are foster parents and while it has its perks it occasionally has a down side. The difficulty is, not so much the letting go, but the insensitivity that can occur when those in the system forget that the foster parents aren't dealing simply with pieces of paper named John, Susan or Donavan, but little people. People that the foster family and the community surrounding the foster family, has invested in for six months, six weeks, six days or even six hours. They are little people that have been fed love and attention as well as the food and drink they require. From time to time a foster child is returned back to parents or other family members without much notice given to the foster family. Of course we want them to be in their permanent placement, but we must be given the time to process the loss, to rejoice for the healing of broken families, to give last little hugs and kisses, take pictures and just say goodbye to a short term son~daughter~sister~brother. Doing foster care has given us a new perspective on Gods involvement in our lives and the lives of our children. As foster parents we have to keep our hands open when it comes to the children we care for. The system decides when and how many to place with us and the duration of the stay. In like manner, the Lord decides when to bless us with children and how many to place in our homes and hearts. He decides also how long they will remain. Unlike man's system, He knows each one by name, none escape His loving gaze. He has a plan and purpose for each and every one whether they live only in utero for a few days and without being detected or whether they live on this earth, outliving their parents, to the age 120. As the Creator of the Universe, God has the right to give life to whom He chooses and bring to Himself, in His time, those He calls home. We are His stewards and the precious gifts of life He bestows upon us, however He chooses to-adoption or birth, belongs to Him. We must keep our hands open with the children we are given and offer them to their Lord that they may live according to His purposes. Even with the prospect of "death" for each child we care for hand have to hand over with or without warning, we would rather mourn and grieve and then receive another child and continue the cycle all over again, than never to have loved the little ones the Lord places in our home. If we can only give them a small piece of Jesus to take with them. Some smell or sound or sight that will someday remind them of the love of our precious Savior then may we mourn the loss of hundreds of children for Christ's sake. I have to believe that way with my own children too. May I bring to them all I have, even if it is only a willing heart with a womb that will not accommodate them. Even if it is for a few short minutes of holding them before they are whisked away by angels back into the Father's arms. Even if, Lord willing, they live to be 120. The Lord does not delight in our sorrow, but He provides the hope we need to trust in Him again! |
Aug. 12, 2007
Catching Babies
|
I was sleeping peacefully enough, dreaming of who knows what. It was that "mom" kind of sleep with eyes closed and ears open waiting for the baby to wake. The phone rang at 5:30 and the voice on the other end said "I think it's time". Fully awake now I asked "really?" "Yes, I took a shower and the contractions didn't go away. Now I can't talk through them..." pause...heavy breathing and then "I gotta go!". Yep, she was really in labor. She and her husband had decided to have an unassisted home birth. When I asked my husband if I could attend as doula he simply stated that he didn't see the wisdom in having and unassisted birth so I told her I would not be able to attend. Several days later it looked as if another friend trained as but not practicing as a midwife would attend the birth. My husband seemed to be okay with that. As her pregnancy progressed and the midwife-ish friend wasn't available after all I asked my husband what he thought. He said he didn't remember saying no. So I planned to be the doula (and official 911 caller if needed) because I'd rather be there to do something than not be available if help were needed. Her husband would catch the baby and her mother along with another friend, homebirthing mother of 7, would be in attendance. Usually when I go to attend a birth I get butterflies in my stomach. Not out of fear, but rather excitement similar to waiting to open presents Christmas morning as a girl. But this morning was different. I felt extrememly peaceful and quiet. I kissed my husband to let him know where I was going and drove the three minutes it took to get to her house. When I arrived it was very peaceful and it was just her. There was no husband, mother or friend. Her husband had the opening managerial position at a coffee shop and was frantically trying to find someone to fill in. Legally he could not leave the shop without another manager to take his place. I sat next to my friend as she knelt in front of her sofa with her head resting in her crossed arms on the cushion. The house was very peaceful and I spoke very quietly asking where this and that was. Where was the birth kit, water, etc. The contractions were getting hard quickly and she had no break as one came on top of the next for 7 minutes, 10 minutes....When she could get a breath out she said "Luanne said we should put cloths in water in the crock pot for warm compresses" then her focus would shift to the birthing dance we was a part of. Her moaning a song calling forth the child God had graciously placed in her womb. I called her husband telling him he needed to hurry. He answered the phone so cheerfully and professionally you'd never know how panicked he was to get home. She felt like she had to go to the bathroom so with the contractions pressing on her body we made it to the toilet. She grasped my hand and looked deep into my eyes "I don't think I can do this Annalisa!" Then her eyes rolled back as another contraction pressed hard around her abdomen. The location and position were causing uneasiness so we slowly made our way back to the sofa. Grabbing a long protective sheet from the birth kit I laid it down just in time as she lowered herself back down. She sang her birth song into the sofa cushions so as not to wake the landlord upstairs. She called out to the Lord as I prayed beside her. I brought her water to sip and prayed quietly. "Warm compresses!" she breathed, breaking her way through the unrelenting contractions. I obediently went to the bathroom, cooled the compress just enough and applied it to ease the burning. This baby was going to come! I kept looking at the door waiting for someone to come through, but no one came. I called a friend who lived nearby who had both had most of her children at home and caught several babies, planned and unplanned. She also happened to be a redcross first aid instructor. "Terry, I've never delivered a baby before, but you have. Could you come?" "Where are you?" I asked my friend her house number, her response was simply a loud groan. "Well...she can't talk right now." I finally explained where we were and my friend said she would come. As I continued to hold the compress firmly in place I began to feel pressure against my hand. I jumped up and grabbed the bulb syringe from the birth kit and got back on my knees behind her. She bore down then yelled "don't push, don't push" and bore down again. The baby's head was crowning. Slowly the head emerged. It got half way out and I reached in with my finger to make sure the cord was not wrapped. Again she pushed with little progress. "The head is half way out, you must push again" One more push and the baby slipped out right into my hands. Taking the bulb syringe I cleaned out his nose and mouth and pronounced to his mother that she was the proud owner of another wonderful boy! I passed him between her legs and mother and son beheld each other. Hearing a car door close outside I ran to meet my other friend calling "it's a boy". As we walked in the house, mother was on her knees holding her new son looking radiant! My friend put on gloves (now why didn't I think of that?!) and help position mother to deliver the placenta. She delivered a beautiful placenta, we wiped the blood from her legs, cleaned the disposable sheet, and positioned mother and baby on the couch. Just then her 19 month old son woke up. I went and got him and brought him to the living room. Mother greeted son and showed him his new sparkling fresh brother. He giggled:) Ten minutes later her husband arrived followed by her mother and the mother of 7. She gave birth to a wonder 10lb2oz baby boy. We took a couple pictures and my Red Cross friend and I went home so our husbands to go to work. My friend had experienced her first contraction at 5:00 a.m. and delivered her sweet babe at 6:40 a.m. 1 hr and 40 minutes from start to finish!!! When I got home my husband was dressed and ready for work. "I delivered the baby, no one else was there." He smiled at me, "I knew as soon as you left that you'd be delivering that baby so I was praying." What a wonderful man! While I have no desire to become a midwife, I will gladly catch any babies the Lord ordains for me to catch:) Not bad for a little self proclaimed doula and a Great Big God!!! |
Aug. 10, 2007
Painful Insight
|
In a few weeks I'll be doing a workshop for a Homeschool Family Camp. Each year I swear I'll never do it again, but here I am...doing it! I dread it because I know whatever my topics are, that is where the Lord will challenge our family. Sometimes I come before this wonderful group of homeschooling parents smelling like charcoal and looking a little singed by the "trial by fire" I've been through to bring the message to them. You would think by now I'd have topics like "how to nap" or "internet surfing for dummies". I'm not clever enough for that. This year my topics are: Legalism Pitfalls, Freedom within Boundaries and Being an Accountable Family! The first two I've done before so they are just reminding me of the things I need to shave off around the edges, but the Accountable Family one is my trial this year. My older daughters, 13 and 12, went to serve at Gleanings for the Hungry this week. My dear friend is a chaperone for the girls and has been giving me updates. I'm almost afraid to answer the phone at this point! Apparently since we're not getting the hint in the privacy of our own home, the Lord has seen fit to reveal our deficiencies in front of rest of the world while we get a running commentary through our correspondent on the field. And boy are we taking notes! Most of the issues have to do with being unwilling workers in the service of the Lord. Grumbling, being inconsiderate, selfishness and choosing friends over companionship with each other. My older daughter leaving out the younger one without any thought of her feelings. We've been using the Accountable Kids program to help with these issues with some success over the last few months. The goal of this program is to teach your children to hold themselves accountable rather having to have a parent nag to get them to do what is expected. The only real thing lacking in this program is the teaching of a good work ethic. We are simply telling our children they need to trudge through the muck of work so they can be done and go have fun. We enjoy when they play together at home but don't work on their hearts when they exclude each other when around friends. We're not instilling them a heart of joyful service and loyalty to one another. But how do you do that?! One thing we're going to begin, and I know this is probably common sense to most moms, is more family time. Not just "okay family game night, lets bond" but cleaning together, working together, serving together and growing together. Making the memories associated with cleaning, working and serving others and one another positive so that when they're out with friends who may try to influence them to exclude their siblings or goof off when they're supposed to be working, they'll have a desire to do the right thing because it feels good, not just because they're expected to. I'll keep you posted as we proceed with this plan over the next few weeks. The farther along the Path I walk the narrower it gets. Better lay off those cookies or I'll never get through! ~Annalisa |
Aug. 5, 2007
It's all about me:)
|
Here I go with my first attempt at what no one is going to read. I'm just learning what this whole blog thing is about so please bear with me. ahem...I grew up a poor black child...and...a poor white child:) Being, oh what's the new tagline, biracial or is it multicultural or maybe dual heritage...anyway...having a pale mom and deeply dark dad has taught me a lot about the world. The biggest lesson is GET OVER IT, MOVE ON and STOP TAKING LIFE SO SERIOUSLY. I happen to live in one of the west coasts most liberal counties where an unborn child is worthless, but a person who describes a person as "black" rather than "african american" should be flogged. Hmmm...what other soap boxes can I bring to stack upon this one? At some point I know I'll fall, but until that happens I'll get a lot said:) Here is me: I am the caramel center of a twix bar (dad is dark chocolate mom is white cookie crunch) I am wife to the son of THE Bearded Weirdo (oh what a man!) I get to be mom to Schemekimi (that's what I call my 4 children if I want them all to come at once) I am a writer (hopefully to be published by the end of 2007...they're trying to find cover art) I am a doula (self proclaimed and pretty good if I do say so myself...and with this being MY blog...I do!) I was an accidental midwife, just me and the mom. I got to catch a 10.2 baby boy. Gloves were an afterthought:) I am a messy housekeeper I am a champion procrastinator I am me with lots of room for improvement and lots of soft for hugging:) ~Annalisa |