Family Fun With School Assignments

When your parents have homework, it's highly likely you'll be used as a prop.....  Shawn had one last assignment for his public speaking class.  We decided to make it a family affair.

CameraWife: Amy
Billy Mays Incarnate: Shawn
Teenager:  Noah
Sulky Seven Year Old:Avery
Terrible Toddler: Ezra

ENJOY! 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DAu7oP1esPo&feature=youtu.be

Don't Be a Judgmental Jerk

I debated on this one, but, you know?  Here goes.

Today was our sixteenth anniversary--yep, sixteen whole years! We took the kids to a late lunch at a restaurant where they did not ask "Do you want that medium or large," AND they had a real, honest-to-goodness hostess.  We very seldom get to do this, but we really wanted to celebrate.  We decided to gamble a little bit.

We were seated in a booth, with Ezra in a highchair.  Ezra hadn't napped, and he had just received two shots.  Like I said, we were in a gambling mood.  My kids really weren't any worse than usual.  No, you know what?  They weren't bad at all.  They were being kids.  Yes, they're rambunctious.  Yes, they can be a little loud.  Yes, they're very excitable.  Ezra was fussy and wasn't sure what he wanted, but he wasn't screaming, or even crying. Once we moved him to the booth with us, and he got a full dose of Coke Zero, he was good to go anyway. We were handling it, and they were being well behaved.  I will stress this:  My kids were not being awful.  I've seen awful. I know awful. On occasion, my kids really are awful. This was not one of those times.  My kids were being kids.  I'm going to stress this one more time:  They.  Are.  Kids.  Never in my personal history of motherhood have I ever used that, or "boys will be boys" as an excuse for poor behavior.  Trust me, if my kids were being awful, I would tell you straight up.  You know me well enough by now to take that as truth.

Before we'd even had a chance to order our drinks, we noticed the looks we were getting from the  couple seated in the booth across from us.  They made a very dramatic show of giving us nasty looks, then disgustedly, they threw money on the table without asking for the check, and left before they were even served their entrees.  Really? 

A few minutes later, the hostess attempted to seat another couple in that same booth.  Immediately,  casting her eyes in our direction, the woman said, "Oh no, we're not sitting here.  Seat us elsewhere."  Really?  I, um, may have laughed a little bit later when I took fussy Ezra to the lobby while Shawn and the boys finished up, and that very same couple was seated directly next to the lobby.  Uh huh.

So, here's the thing.  Most of us have been in the "I'm out with my kids and they're being loud and I'm really sorry but this is my daily life and I love it and they're only being kids and they really aren't being rude or awful" situation.  We've also had to deal with people who aren't so understanding.  It blows my mind that people who have raised children are typically the most judgmental ones!  Be patient.  Be kind.  If you're still raising children, that could be you getting those looks next time. If you've raised children, perhaps you were once (or more) on the receiving end of those looks. If you are younger than child-bearing age giving these looks, you may just have to eat your words (looks?) one day. In fact, I'll guarantee it.  If you've never raised children, well, think of a similar situation you've been in. And yes, while acknowledging my panties are in a twist because these two couples looked askance at my babies, I will also acknowledge that patience and understanding work both ways, and yes, I judged these couples.  Believe me, I completely understand wanting to have a quiet meal with your spouse.  Trust me.  But, can you imagine how it would've gone if we, with our three children in tow, had snootily declared we weren't going to sit next to these couples?

There was one other patron near us.  He was an older gentleman seated diagonally across the aisle from us, and he stuck it out with us.  He never gave us nasty looks, never sighed with exasperation, never said boo.  I don't know if the dear man was just blessedly hard of hearing, or patient and understanding.  It doesn't really to matter to me.  In him, I saw a bit of humanity and consideration. And you know what?  We anonymously paid for his meal to thank him.  I really hope we were able to bless him as much as he blessed us with his (hard of hearing?) compassion.

Moral of the lesson:  Don't be a nasty, mean old judgmental jerk!!!!  Be patient, be kind, be compassionate.

We're going to miss these times with our kids someday.  I really hope we're the old couple paying for the meals for that family with the rambunctious children sitting across from us, rather than being nasty about it.

Grace's Gift

I've written before about my daughter.  I've also told you before that the only reason I know she is a girl is because of a dream Noah had when he was much younger. That was God's, and Noah's, gift to me.  Reassurance. Grace.  Mercy.

One of the things I still can't quite decide?  figure out? understand? is what to tell people when they ask me how many children I have.  I have four children, but only three you can see.  Some would say she was 'just' a miscarriage, but to me, she is, and always be my child. 

It took me a long time to come to terms with my miscarriage.  I was bitter, angry, frustrated.  I know Grace happened for a reason, but it's taken me until now to be able to put into words just what her exact gift is.  Her gift is the appreciation and gratitude I have for her brothers.  I have a gratitude for their lives, for my joy in motherhood, my appreciation for my ability to even be a mom, that I'm not sure I would have, if not for her loss and our infertility journey.  I love her more, and her brothers more, because of the insight and perspective she's given me.

My dearest Grace, I will always miss the milestones I did not get to share with you, but, BUT, I will always be grateful for the lessons you've left as your legacy.  To know that your life was not for not, but you did--still do--have an incredible purpose, that gives me so much love, gratitude, hope and faith. A lifetime would never be long enough to thank you enough.

Your mommy loves you, dear baby girl.  I miss you, but I know now that your greatest purpose was never here on earth.  Thank you for everything you've given me, for everything you've given your daddy and your brothers, and for living up to your great, amazing, beautiful name.

Someone Needs This

Dear One,
I do not know your name, but I know you need to hear these words.  I want you to listen and take heart, please.

You are needed.  You are loved.  You are wanted.  You deserve better than the life you are living right now.  You deserve better than the way you are thinking about yourself right now.  You deserve better than the way you are treating yourself right now.  Right now, someone is praying for you.

Stop believing the enemy of your soul.  Stop listening to the lies he whispers to you.  He doesn't speak the truth about you!  You are worthy!

I know it's hard.  I know some days you can't even get out of bed.  I know you don't want to look in the mirror because you hate what you see.  I know you hide from your friends, and you've stopped going to class and work.  You don't answer your texts or your phone calls.  I know you aren't eating properly, if at all.  You've stopped taking care of yourself, and you've just shut down.  I know it's hard.

I know what you're thinking.  It would just be easier if you didn't wake up next time you go to sleep.

I know all of this because one time I was where you are.  I understand you.  I hear you.  I see you.  Any excuse you can give me, any reason you can give me--I've been there.

Please, do this for me--whatever you're thinking, whatever you're planning--promise me this--put it on hold an hour.  You can do an hour.  Then put it off another hour.  You know what I'm talking about. Don't act like you don't.  After you put it off an hour and then another hour, put it off a day.  Yes, that old cliched saying, "one day at a time."

Now, I want you to take a long, hard look--do you really want this for your loved ones?  You may think suicide will end your pain, but dear one, it is only the very beginning of theirs.  Yes, don't argue with me--there are people who love you.  You would be so terribly missed.  Your niece who looks up to you, your husband who can't go on without you, your children who would grow up without you--and you, dear child, please don't make your parents bury you.  I can't even begin to put words into the pain they would go through.  

You think you can't go on.  You can, love, you can. I know it's tough--but you, you are tougher.  There is a purpose here, a reason.   When you come through this--you are already a shining star, you are already beautiful, you are already amazing--but when you come through this, there is so much more to life for you.

Letting Them Go

I think the hardest part in parenting is realizing we can't protect our children.  We obviously do our very best, but beyond wrapping them in bubble wrap and stashing them in the crawlspace, there are so many things beyond our control.  The safety and protection of our children is one of those things we just absolutely have to give to God.

This realization is hitting home more and more as I'm raising my first teenager. Sometimes I watch Noah when he's not looking and wonder when this whole adult-male thing happened. Noah is maturing, growing, adding to his responsibilities, and able to make life altering decisions.  He's home less and less, will soon be driving (right now he's busy driving the Jeep no further than up and down the driveway...), and he's making (sort of) adult choices.  I'll be honest, it scares the life out of me.  All I can do is pray and hope that I've guided him well enough to make good choices.  I pray for absolute wisdom and discernment in the choices he makes.  I pray he listens to God, and follows His path.

A few months ago Noah dropped a bomb on us concerning his future.  At the tender age of 15, he's decided to forgo college after high school, and enlist in the Marine Corps instead.  It took him weeks to come to us with this decision, afraid of our reaction ("I knew you'd cry, Mom"--yes, I had to leave the room, and yes, it took me several days before I could look at him without crying.).  I don't think he was worried we would be disappointed, but I knew he was worried about my reaction most of all. I still get teary when I think about it, I pray constantly, I've sent frantic emails to friends who have already been through this, and I grab him up in tight hugs, proclaiming, "But you're MY boy!" Fortunately, Noah knew to expect all of this, and handles me very well.

I'm proud of Noah.  He did not make this decision lightly.  He did research with the local JROTC officers, spoke with a recruiter, and has done countless hours of reading and comparing the military branches.  This is how we've raised our kids--to respect the military, to love our country, and to serve God by serving His people and thinking of others.  I've seen Noah give a homeless man his shirt literally off his own back with no thought of what he'd wear home.  Year after year, he's given all of his youth camp allowance to the church, with no thought of how he'd feed himself.  I've seen him take all of his money out of his wallet and give it to a man on the side of the road, telling me that man needed it more than he did. Last Christmas he gave a gift card to a single mom so she could treat her little girls. I've seen countless examples of absolute blind love and trust in my son.  He has a very tender soul.  Noah is a world changer.  A career of serving others only makes sense.

Noah has been prophesied over twice now, both prophets speaking of missionary work.  When Noah returned from camp two weeks ago, he said, "You know, the military IS missions work.  A lot of times they respond to the disaster, but they are also there to prevent disasters."  He's right.  I can't argue with that.

I won't be the mom who prevents my children from doing what they want in life (unless it's eating Cheetos on my couch while playing video games into their 20s--then I'm going to be all about preventing that).  I can't be the one who stands in Noah's way just because he's growing out of his bubble wrap.  He's only 15.  There's still a chance he could change his mind.  But it won't be because I'm standing in his way.

The (Lack of) Air Conditioning Experiment

I'm going to tell you straight up--this is not a 'stroke our ego' post.  This is a post about obedience, and the lessons we learned in the process.  It's going to sound like I'm stroking our egos.  But I'm not.

Two months ago our upstairs HVAC unit died.  Yes, right as the summer temperatures began to soar, we lost the ability to cool down our house.  In order to not overtax the downstairs unit, we chose to not use it, and just do our best to ride out the heat until we could replace the unit.

Yes, we could've afforded a new unit two months ago when we needed it. Yes, I know how very fortunate we are to be able to say that.  Please, that is something we do not take for granted.  But the truth is, we needed to spend our money elsewhere.  We had to make some choices between what our family needed, and what God was calling our family to do for other families who need more.

Did we complain at times??  Oh yes.  We certainly did complain about the heat, the humidity, the sweat and everything else.  I did my best not to in front of the boys in order to set an example for them (so my best friend received a lot of quiet texts out of earshot of my children....).  When they complained, I stressed that Shawn works very hard and we needed to save up.  We talked about obedience to God and putting our own needs aside for those of others.  We are blessed beyond measure, and if air conditioning was the one thing we lacked for all of two months, well, we're still pretty damned blessed.

God has grown us and stretched us.  We made do as best we could, keeping baby wipes in the fridge, running fans, having family slumber parties in the basement and escaping to the library (and Walmart) when we needed to really cool down.  I bought several sprinklers and ran those for an hour or two at a time for the kids to play in, left ice out for Lilly and the kitties, and so on.  The long and short of it is, we may have been hot and uncomfortable, but we were not hurting or suffering.  I'm not necessarily sure this experience brought us closer together as a family, but we tried!

Here's where the learning, growing and stretching comes in.  At the end of this month, we will be taking a missions trip as a family.  We're staying domestic, but the people we will be serving still have less than we do.  If their air conditioning unit breaks--if they even have central AC--there is not a secondary unit downstairs to use during the night.  They most likely do not have a multi-storied house with cooler levels to escape to.  They may not have transportation to the local library, or to another air-conditioned building.  If they do have transportation, it may not be air conditioned and comfortable, as is ours.  We had air conditioning to the air conditioning when we needed to escape.  Air conditioning is not the only thing many of them do without.  I don't even know if they have fresh, clean water to drink or play in.  Many of them do not have jobs, proper healthcare, and the other many things we take for granted.

All of that said, we did celebrate when the repairmen arrived with our shiny new HVAC unit on Friday.  We cheered as they pulled into our driveway, I fed them ice cream, we thanked them profusely, and prayed in gratitude for our much cooler air.  Yes, it was an experiment, and an experience, for our family.  Yes, we know that our little experience doesn't even come close to the daily lives of those we will be serving, but I do hope it gives us all a bit more insight into, and more compassion for them.

Ezra offering his assistance to our favorite technician