Tell me what I was going to say!

Today was one of those days with my 3 year old.

Every 45 seconds, "Mommy!"

And he wanted my attention. Either he was pretending to be a baby bird and wanted me to come feed the baby bird pretend worms (and that bird needed to eat many times!) or he needed help doing something or he wanted to tell me a joke or play a game. On and on it went.

So much so that today I told my husband, "I guess it is not actually possible to pester someone to death because I'm still alive!"

And to really illustrate what I'm dealing with:

At one point he said, "Mommy" which was shocking (not!). I said, "What is it buddy?"

Him: "Oh, I forgot what I was going to say."

Me: thinking not saying - he probably didn't really have anything to say, he's just so in the habit of saying, "Mommy" every 45 seconds.

Him: "What was I going to say?"

Me: "I have no idea what you were going to say."

Him: "Tell me! Tell me what I was going to say!"

At least he doesn't ask for much!

Although the demandingness has the potential to drive me crazy, I'm thankful for these days with my 3 year old guy and know that the time will come when he's all grown up and I'll miss getting to feed him imaginary worms!

Find more Thankful Thursday here.

Taking My Kids to the Beach in the Winter

My kids had Monday off school, my husband had to work, so I was trying to figure out something fun the kids and I could do, and I felt like we could use a little change of scenery (see yesterday's post for reason).

So, I decided a drive (about an hour each way) to the beach might be nice.

We take the kids to the beach a few times each summer, they love it!

But, when my 2 younger kids woke me up Monday morning talking about how they weren't going to get to go as far out in the ocean since Daddy wouldn't be on the trip and Daddy is taller than Mommy and carries them on his shoulders way out into the surf, I realized they had no idea about the winter beach. When I said go to the beach they expected the beach they know of from summer -- swimsuits, sunscreen, hot sand, swimming in the ocean, diving in the waves kind of a beach.

I tried explaining it to them, about how we were just going to play in the sand and only get our feet wet because it would be cold, but they came down with their swimsuits packed any way. I threw the suits in the car to avoid their protests thinking surely once they felt the temperature at the beach they would not be putting them on.

They began the afternoon my way, fully clothed and frolicking just near the edge of the water.

But, they begged, "Swimsuits! Swimsuits! Swimsuits!"

I stood there watching them in the 50 degree cloudy, windy weather, freezing in my jeans, sweatshirt, warm boots, with a towel wrapped around my shoulders for extra warmth, and couldn't imagine why in the world they wanted to put on their swimsuits!

But, I was clearly outnumbered.

So, being the mother who doesn't believe you actually get sick from brief periods of time in the cold without sufficient clothing, I caved.

And let them do this:

It only took about 4 minutes before they were, you guessed it, cold!

Here's my daughter in what we now call the "turtle picture", curling up into her pink and white shell in an attempt to warm up!

So, we finished the day like this:

drinking hot chocolate while looking out at the ocean -- the best way to enjoy the winter beach!

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Saying Goodbye to the Family Dog

Our dog died this past Saturday.

She had been sick with kidney disease for a few years now. It was well controlled with medicine for a while, but she'd been doing a bit worse lately. Even so, her death was pretty unexpected as she was still running around, barking at the mail lady just the day before.

She was a member of our family. The first baby for my husband and me. The first other being the two of us cared for together as a team before the real babies came along.

My kids have all grown up with her, never known life without having a furry dog named Isabella. Many times when they woke up crying in the night as babies or sick children, I'd stumble sleepily to their bedsides and then hear her come in the room seconds after me, the worried nurse also waking up to tend to the children.

As they made their first attempts at crawling and walking, she was right there, usually very noticeable in the background of those milestone pictures.

Each of my three learned at young ages not to leave a snack unattended because Isabella would help herself! And any food spills were never a worry, we'd just call in the dog and she'd lick the floor (or table sometimes) clean!

Isabella was very fearful of strangers and pretty much most people outside our family of 5, (I attribute it to the fact that I rescued her at the age of 4 months old, just beyond the window of key socialization age for puppies, but maybe that was just Isabella's neurosis, we all have them, right?) but for any of her faults, I always had to praise the fact that never once was she anything but kind and gentle to my kids, a super dog to see them through their baby and toddler years.

My husband and I have dreaded this event, her death, and hoped to have a couple more years before dealing with it. But, death is part of this life here on earth and we recognized the opportunity to model for our kids how to deal with loss.

We cried, we hugged, we talked as a family about what we liked about her and what we'd miss. And the kids immediately wanted to know, "Can we get another dog?" So we talked about that, too. About how we will get another dog some time (not exactly sure when) and the joy that they'll get to experience helping to pick out the new dog and train it to be a member of our family, about how fun it will be to play with a dog that is younger and more playful than Isabella was in her senior years.

Then they had questions about death in general and heaven and we shared with them truth from the Bible about how much God loves them and that His word says heaven is going to be better than anything we could even imagine. Even after we'd tucked them into bed, the 7 year old couldn't sleep, kept coming down with more questions, worries.

We assured him that he didn't need to worry about dying because as believers in Jesus when we die here on earth we go on to eternal life in heaven with Jesus where there is no more pain or sadness. Rev. 21:4 says, "He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.”

And after tucking him back into bed, my husband looked at me and asked, "What do atheists tell their children?"

Just that when you die, that's it? I have no idea.

We are especially grateful for His promises right now.

Isabella is missed. The house feels so quiet, which is funny considering we still have 3 loud kids, but going from 6 lives to 5 here under this roof is a loss.

So many ways she was part of our life. I have no idea how I'll bear to do my Shred workout again knowing she won't be trying to lick my face while I lie on the floor for the ab parts or the "Superman". I always shoed her away not wanting the dog breath or the interference during the toughest parts of the work-out, but oh, how I'll miss it now!

I think we're leaning towards getting a new dog sooner rather than later, so stay tuned! And if you hear of any friendly, cute, calm, playful, obedient, non-shedding dogs or puppies who are experts at vacuuming stray food off the floor and in need of a home, send them our way!

Isabella, we're grateful to have had you a part of our lives!





And finally, Isabella the day she stole the hot dog buns:


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Sharing the Dream

This post was originally published January 16, 2010.

The other morning my 4 year old daughter suddenly looked at me and asked, "Mommy, when I get big am I going to look exactly the same as you?"

As I turned to her and began an attempt to answer the question, tons of thoughts raced through my mind all at the same time.

I hadn't put on make-up or gotten ready for the day yet and I'm sure I looked terrible, so I was thinking she's probably asking and hoping the answer is "no"! So, I asked, "Do you want to look like me?" in a very incredulous voice. Still her reply was, "Yes."

But the part that hit me like a ton of bricks was the thought, "So this is the age when she'll care." Four years old. My daughter whom I have not yet met. The one I'm adopting from Ethiopia.

For my biological daughter the answer is easy. I told her, "Sweetheart, you won't look exactly the same as me when you grow up. You may be about as tall as me and may look a little like me, but no, you will not look exactly like I do. And that's good. You'll be your own beautiful person."

And for my future daughter, the answer is the same, but oh, how much more complicated the issue is!

Most likely her skin will be brown, mine is an extremely pale peach. Her hair will likely be curly, either a little or a lot, mine is super straight. We will be different races.

And, oh, how I wish that didn't matter. But I know there will be times when it will. There will probably be different ages and stages of my future daughter's life when it will be a very big issue to her. And, very sadly, I fear there will be times when people out in the world will make that an issue for her.

I pray that she will see herself as the beautiful, cherished, loved child that she will be to us.

I have a dream that my four children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day the state of Alabama, whose governor's lips are presently dripping with the words of interposition and nullification, will be transformed into a situation where little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls and walk together as sisters and brothers.

I have a dream today.

Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., I share in your dream!

9 Months 2 Days Waiting, Etc., Etc.

We've now officially been on the waitlist for the child we'll adopt from Ethiopia for 9 months and 2 days!

And that's all I have to say about that.

Only not really! Depending on the day I have a lot to say. Everything from "all in God's timing" to "we should start training to be foster parents in the mean time because this wait may go on forever!!!" But if I'm really honest, as much as I hate the wait, bringing home our girl in the summer (which is how it's looking now) is probably better timing than smack dab in the middle of spring like we expected. In the summer we can really focus on bonding with our girl without all of the running around that goes on for school and extra-curricular activities of our older kids.

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In other news, it's been cold here. No snow like many of you have, but cold by our standards (it even dipped below freezing!!) and we had to dig out some real winter gear.

I have to say, again, I have no idea how you Northern moms do it!!!! The gloves, hats, coats, extra layers of clothes, etc., etc. times how ever many kids you have for months and months on end!!!! This Southern girl couldn't do it! In all likelihood, we'll be back in Crocs and flip-flops next week, which is the thought getting me through the cold spell!
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Oh, and this:

It's how we do hot chocolate around our house. Homemade using this recipe (The best! You have to try it!) with marshmallows and whipped cream, then topped with sprinkles!

Our hot chocolate season is short considering it's usually upwards of 90 degrees outside, so we do it big when we can!

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I'm really excited that my pack-rat daughter seems to have jumped on the January clean-out bandwagon. I told her to go through her cubby (the place my kids keep their random junk that is treasure to them -- think birthday party favors) because it was overflowing. A few minutes later she brought me this and said, "I'm thinking about throwing this away."

It's a used, run out of glow, glow stick bracelet left over from Halloween! Where exactly is the decision here? But to her I said, "I think that is an excellent decision!"

Baby steps, people, baby steps!

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My potty training post got many hits this week, but for those of you who are envious of our potty-trained status, I'd like to share a little glimpse into life post-diapers:

One morning this week when I walked into the bathroom to wipe the 3 year old who had gone #2 in the potty, I stepped in a puddle with my cloth-slippered foot.

I grabbed a bleach-wipe and said to my 3 year old, "Just a second, let me get this, it's a little bit wet."

Then he said, "Yeah, I peed there. . . accidentally."

It was 2 feet from the potty! I knew I'd rue the day I ever let my husband and older son teach him to go pee-pee standing up!

So, we've graduated from pee in the diapers to pee on the floor and on my slippers. The grass is not always greener, my friends!

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Have a wonderful weekend!

Find more Finer Things Friday and Friday Fragments.

Who do you want your kids to be?

My kids have had the civil rights movement as a topic at school lately and we've continued the dialog at home talking about what discrimination means.

When I recently read this post from Kristen at Rage Against the Minivan about how some kids didn't want to hold hands with her two sons at a basketball camp because they were black, I raised the scenario for my kids, "If you were at basketball camp and the coach said to circle up and nobody wanted to hold hands with one kid because they were black, what would you do? Would you go along with the group or would you go against them and hold hands with the child?" They answered correctly that they would hold hands, but the question started up a good conversation about how we don't judge people by the color of their skin any more than the color of their eyes, hair, or how tall they are. We talked about the wide variety of colors God made people in and how silly it would be to think one color was better than another. My 3 year asked, "What color are we?" "Peach," I said, (or according to the name stamped on the bottom of Mommy's make-up foundation bottle, "Pale Ivory"). "People will call us white, and we are considered white people, but if you get the white crayon out of the box, we're not exactly that color, are we? And even within our current family of five, there are differences, my skin is very fair, and Daddy's not as much."

When I told my husband about the conversation he found a YouTube video about the Little Rock Arkansas school integration and we watched it with our kids.

The video mainly depicts one of the Little Rock nine, Elizabeth Eckford, with real life footage of what it was like the day the Arkansas National Guard blocked her from entering the school and the angry mob she faced. The video was a great one to show the kids. There was such a huge juxtaposition of the ugliness of the mob and what they represented and the grace, dignity and composure of little Elizabeth Eckford, just a teenager at the time! And it was an opportunity to talk about choices, Elizabeth made a choice in how she behaved that day and the people in the mob made a choice about how they behaved. And do we want to be the kind of people that treat others with kindness and respect or the kind that live to regret their actions?

I'm so impressed with and thankful for the example and the heroism of Elizabeth Eckford!

Here's the video:




Find more Thankful Thursday here.

Define Productive

I've found it necessary in life as a mom to redefine the idea of a productive day.

The toddler and I put this together after lunch:

while the rest of the playroom looked like this:

I got a batch of these made today much to the delight of my kids:

However, I'll go to sleep tonight and the playroom will still look like this:



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