Too many toys...

At my mom's group Christmas party, we talked a bit about the balance of gift giving and spoiling, and how to handle well-meaning family members who want to do too much.

I mentioned an author, John Rosemond, who has written many great books to Christian parents dealing with the same issues we are. He talks a lot about limiting the number of toys our children have in order to encourage creative play. I have seen it with Silas - when he has less, he is actually able to play better!

The library has several of his books, including the New Six Point Plan for Raising Happy, Healthy Children. Here is the description from the book jacket:

This completely revised and updated edition of the parenting classic urges contemporary parents to follow six fundamental points for raising happy, healthy children:
Point 1: The secret to raising a happy, successful child is to give more attention to your marriage than you give to your child.
Point 2: The clue to proper parenting is to be both authoritatively loving and lovingly authoritative. In the real world, there is no possibility of a truly democratic relationship between parents and children-not as long as the children live at home and rely on parents for emotional, social, and economic protections.
Point 3: Our job as parents is to socialize our children. In order for children to become successful at the three Rs of reading, 'riting, and 'rithmetic, their parents must first teach them the three Rs of respect, responsibility, and resourcefulness.
Point 4: Frustration isn't necessarily bad for children. In fact, a certain amount is absolutely essential to healthy character formation and emotional growth.
Point 5: Children need forms of play and exercise that require imagination, initiative, creativity, intelligence, resourcefulness, and self-reliance. Making do is not only the essence of truly creative play-which is itself the essence of childhood-it' s also the story of the advancement of the human race.
Point 6: Television, computers, and video games are constantly blinking, tasteless, odor-free counterfeits of the real world. Too much of their use encumbers children's development and is unhealthy for the family as a unit, so parents need to start early and limit their children's exposure.

He has another book that I have not yet read called Parenting By the Book: Biblical wisdom for raising your child. I've reserved it - I'll let you know what I think!

I needed this little reminder for myself... we have some work to do.

Josiah's Birthday and Dedication

Josiah has been the focus of festivities the last two weekends. His first birthday was last weekend and this weekend we dedicated him at church. We are so thankful to have had a reason to celebrate, as his life is truly a blessing.

Friday was his actual birthday, and we spent the day rather quietly. Silas was very excited to sing to him in the morning, and Josiah was happy to be sung to by his beloved older brother. I had mom's group that morning, so it was out the door for us before 9:00. I wish we could have snuggled and played all day, but getting out and seeing friends was also fun. I didn't have to teach, so it was more relaxing for me.

We had a quiet family dinner just the four of us that night. Bidi ate a huge plate full of chicken, carrots, potatoes, and peas and topped it off with his first cupcake. He reacted as all one year olds do who are giving an icing covered confection for the first time: suspicious at first followed by focused consumption. He LOVED it! (So did Silas who was thrilled by the dye-free sprinkles I found!)



Saturday included a trip to a really cool indie artists annual design market where a couple of friends were peddling their crafty wares. I will definitely go next year, but not with the kiddos. We went to church in the evening, which made for a relaxed Sunday morning.

Josiah's party was Sunday evening. Cooking a huge meal didn't appeal to me for some reason, so we brought in City Barbeque which was just perfect. I did put out a few too many appetizers, so by the time the food came, we were all a little full. That's not all bad though, as we enjoyed a few days of leftovers.

Josiah wasn't quite the center of attention during that meal with two big cousins and one older brother competing for attention, but when it was cake time, he took center stage. He was awed by the chorus of singing, and looked stunned at the cupcake offered to him. He even cried when I tried to give him some icing off the top. Grammy came to the rescue when she showed him that it wasn't poison, which made him laugh and then he decided to investigate it a bit more himself. After that, he was shoveling it in.




This weekend we continued our celebrations at his dedication at church. Following in the examples of Hannah who dedicated Samuel and Mary and Joseph who dedicated Jesus, we as parents pledged to do our best to raise him to know and love the Lord. We pledged to bring him to church. And we pledged to do our best, with God's grace, to live out our faith in such a way as to make it so attractive to him that he will want to give his life to the Lord at a young age.

After the service, the church hosted a luncheon for the families. It was a nice way to celebrate and connect our families to our church family, both of which have shaped us into who we are and will continue to guide us as we parent our sweet little boys.

Food Allergies and Artificial Dyes

I began this blog 3 years ago as I was investigating food choices for Silas. I needed someplace to gather my research and organize my thoughts as I was preparing to make some pretty drastic changes in the food we eat. Lately, I've been blogging more about the boys in general and haven't spent much time on my food soap box. It's time for me to climb back up...

The Center for Science in the Public Interest published an article about Food Dyes and Children's Behavior which raised my awareness of these potentially harmful additives. I decided I was going to try to eliminate them from our diet (as much as possible) and was stunned by how many products contain them! Yogurt, cereal, juice... I had to read labels for everything! I've been at it long enough now that I have found lots of good products that are acceptable, and so we are able to eat a "normal" diet without the food dyes.

Sadly, I spent an entire year frustrated by Silas' preschool. We were pleased with many things about the school, but felt that we were fighting a losing battle when it came to the nutrition they offered the children. Snack time was every morning between 9:30 and 10:00, and most days it was a cheap, sugar-laden cereal of some kind, including generic "fruit loops" and "golden grahams". I tried to casually experess my concerns, but nothing changed.

I ended up confronting the director of the preschool in late winter about the dye-containing sugar cereals offered for snack. I felt like she did not understand where I was coming from, even though at the beginning of the year I had provided her with copies of the studies backing my position. At the end of our conversation, I felt that she was so weary from everything else and that I was just another "problem" for her to deal with. She did agree that cereal was not a snack that the preschool children should be offered and that she would address it. Honestly, I can't remember if it changed or not.

A funny story about Silas' awareness:
Of course, I had to explain to Silas why he wasn't allowed to have many of his favorite foods. I explained to him that the "bad food dyes" are not good for his little body, that they make it hard for him to listen sometimes. He would sometimes ask me for treats that he saw his friends getting in their packed lunches and I always felt bad telling him he couldn't have something that would have made him so happy.

One day at school, he informed his friend Nick that the juice he was drinking had the "bad food dyes". Well, apparently, Nick misunderstood Silas and thought that he was saying that his drink was going to make him DIE! The teacher told me the whole incident and for the life of me, I couldn't figure out why Silas would say such a thing to his friend. I asked him and he said that he hadn't meant that, but couldn't tell me what did he mean. It was a few days later when I realized the error based on the sound-alike words Die and Dye. I explained it to his teacher, who was a bit relieved, and the next time I saw Nick's mom, I apologized and explained it all to her. She was unaware that this had all taken place (perhaps Nick had forgotten it by the time she picked up from school), but I used it as an opportunity to raise awareness about the behavior connection as Nick was always getting in trouble at school. It was the first she had heard of anything like this, and so she said she would look into it.

Sleep Update

Several weeks ago, I attempted to let Josiah "cry it out". He had been waking up every 2-3 hours and the only thing that would soothe him was nursing. After a very painful 2 hours of him crying and me going in there to rub his back, I finally caved and nursed him to sleep. Of course, the next morning I noticed this HUGE mass on his gum line where a molar was working its way through (see picture), so mommy guilt set in and I refrained from letting him cry again the next night.

Part of the problem was his new talent at standing in the crib. He would wake in the night, pull himself to standing, and then not know where to go from there. I would find him screaming at the end of his bed, but really, had he not woken himself up that way, he would have been fine.

A few nights ago, Steve was inspired to let him cry again. It was a Saturday night, so daddy didn't have to be up for work in the morning, and he got the process going. After about 90 minutes, Steve was spent, so I took over. Did I mention that the power was out? Yes, we had no electricity, but I still was on board as I could tell that this was "the night". That being said, I was still tethering myself to the bed to refrain from going in there too quickly. It was agonizing. Without a clock to watch, I lay there counting to 60 over and over in my head until five minutes had expired and then I went into him. He did wind down and finished the night without needing mommy's milk.

We had a few more nights of going in every five minutes or so, but most times now, he gets himself back to sleep pretty quickly, before I even go in. And last night, he didn't need me AT ALL! Woohoo!

Lambs Book of Life

Tonight Silas wanted to read his Bible. He said he was forgetting the story of the people who ate the fruit in the garden. We have the best children's Bible, My First Message, with great illustrations and shortened stories that aren't watered down. For a long while, it was his favorite book to read before bed. Since he is no longer in Christian school, he isn't hearing Bible stories in the classroom anymore, so I was more than happy to oblige.

Daddy read first, and then it was my turn. He requested the story of the first passover because he wanted to hear about the Hebrews killing the lambs and putting the blood on their doors. I like that the stories are attractive and slightly frightening to him. Isn't that how we ought to see God - attractive and slightly frightening. The Bible says we should have a fear of God, that we ought to be concerned what he would think about our thoughts and actions, that we ought to live holy lives in reverence to Him. But I digress...

So after reading the story of the first Passover, I decided to talk to him about how Jesus is our Passover Lamb. We talked about Jesus' Last Supper, which was also a Passover meal and how Jesus taught his disciples to observe a new tradition, taking Communion. I read a bit of the story and when I got to the part where Jesus held the cup and said, "this is my blood, drink it," Silas wanted to know if it was really his blood. No, but it represents the blood that he gave for our sins. We talked about the crucifixion, reserrection and ascension. We talked about how Jesus is in heaven now. We flipped to the end of his Bible, looking for a picture of Heaven and found the passage from Revelations about streets of gold with the River of Life flowing down the middle and the Tree of Life growing on either side.

Then we came to the part of the Lamb's Book of Life. I reminded him who the Lamb was (Jesus), then I told him that my name was written in it. "Really? It says "Ashleigh?" Yes, it does. And other people we know and love have their names written there too, like Daddy. "I want my name there too." So I explained that it would mean he would have to ask Jesus to forgive him for his sins and ask Him to be in charge of his life. He said he wanted that, so I had him pray after me:

"Dear Jesus, we love you. Thank you for giving us everything we need. Please forgive me for all my sins. Wash them away. Cover me with your blood. Help me to obey you. Write my name in the Lamb's Book of Life. In the name of Jesus we pray, Amen."

"And so it's written there now?" he asked. Yes. "It's a short name. Only five letters." That's right. Only five sweet letters.

I wonder if I did the right thing. I don't think I'll bring it up again. I want him to have a real relationship with Jesus. Not a false one for the wrong reasons. When Steve asked him about it, he said he wanted his name written there like mommy. I want to strike a balance between "training him up in the way he should go" and trusting the Holy Spirit to work in his heart. I know for me it was always easy to follow God and listen to his voice, but I know many who struggle. I want so badly for it to be a simple thing for my boys, for them to want to follow Jesus and to walk in his ways. But I am too much of a realist to expect that. God is teaching me to trust in Him to draw the boys to Him, and so I walk in faith and contribute whenever I can, like tonight.

The School Year...

Silas is having a great time in kindergarten. We have successfully completed ten days of school, and have already had two mornings at home due to sickness. Having been a public school teacher, I know a bit how to play the game. He really was too sick to send in first thing, but as the morning progressed, his energy level perked up and so I was able to get him there for the "half-day".

We are learning to adjust our activities on weekends and in the evenings to help keep him healthy and strong. School days tend to be pretty quiet, and I'm really looking forward to spending some time with him on the weekends. I am starting to miss him!

The Night Before School...

What a good time to reflect. Summer vacation has come to an end and the first REAL school year is beginning.

We've had a lovely summer. I do feel a bit guilty that we didn't spend more time outdoors, but with the baby, it was a little hard. We did plant a small garden, which brought us out every once in a while. Once the lettuce went to seed, I become less enthusiastic, but I am still harvesting cherry tomatoes galore and waiting patiently for red peppers and broccoli.

I had hoped that this would be the summer that Silas learned to ride his bike without training wheels. Unfortunately, that didn't happen. When I asked Steve why he hadn't worked on that with him (we had decided it was his job), he said he is afraid to have Silas riding his bike because we live on a busy street. It's true. Thoughtless teenagers fly down our street, and our house is in a bit of a blind spot just on the other side of a slight curve - God forbid the disasters that could be imagined.

So what was so lovely about this summer? We kept to a regular schedule, mostly because we had to for Josiah's sake, but now that we are starting school, I realize that we really don't have to adjust that much. And Silas got to do lots of great activities. There were several weeks of Day Camp, Vacation Bible School, Gynastics (the theme was Super Hero Training!) and of course, there was that little surgery in the middle of it all (which Silas would proably NOT call lovely). We had a few lazy days, lots of playdates and afternoons with the sprinklers on. All and all, I'd say summer was pretty peachy.

And now, Silas is starting a new chapter: Kindergarten. He is going to have a great year. He is incredibly social and makes friends easily. He knows all of his letters and is even beginning to read - I LOVE this stage! Tonight, he was so excited that he said he wasn't going to be able to sleep, so we cuddled a bit and I told him stories about when I was in kindergarten. I can't wait for him to experience all this, but at the same time, I realize the preschool years are now over for him. The first day of kindergarten is a huge milestone, and I have a motto that all milestones must be bathed in tears. So I'm preparing to weep a bit tomorrow. I'm sure I'll be fine, but it's always good to pause when a chapter comes to an end, to be sure the lessons have been learned and that the horizon is clear for new adventures.

And new adventures await...

We survived the Big Surgery...

Silas had to have his tonsils out in July. I was so nervous about telling him. He can get so worked up over the tiniest things and I was very anxious about how he would handle the news that he would have major surgery which would cause him great pain. I prayed for weeks about it.

Thankfully, this is not a new problem for parents to deal with, and so I was able to borrow a couple books from the library that were extremely helpful. I waited until the week before and sat with him one night and read "Goodbye Tonsils". When I finished, I explained that he would have to have his tonsils out too. His response absolutely surprised me. He hugged me and said, "Oh, thank you!" And when I told him that he would also have a procedure done on his nose to end the terrible nose bleeds he gets several times a week, he kicked his feet with joy! God is gracious!

I made sure that he knew it was going to cause him pain, just in case he missed that part, but I think he was so focused on the "goodbye tonsils" party we would have and the presents, ice cream and popsicles that were promised, and he decided it was worth it.

The night before the surgery he was playing with some neighbors and skinned his finger somehow. The way he cried and carried on you would think he had amputated the finger instead! Once again, I was so worried. I sent out a desperate email to friend asking them to pray for his surgery in the morning.

In the morning, he cheerfully put on his comfy-cozy clothes and skipped out to the car to go for his operation. He wasn't the least bit nervous or scared. God is merciful!

The surgery went according to plan and the surgeon reported that Silas' tonsils exploded with pus when he removed them. Yuck! As disgusting as that is to share, it is somewhat comforting to know as it's a terrible thing to make a decision for your child to have a major operation. I had doubted over and over that we were doing the right thing. Every time someone heard about it, they would ask if he was sick all the time. "No," I would reply. And then I would doubt. No, he was not sick all the time. He did have 2 documented cases of strep over a 12 month period, but he wasn't a sickly child. But then again, we keep pretty tight routines around here, especially when it comes to his quiet time and bed time. And we eat rather healthy, so it could be that his immune system was most of the time at it's best and so he wasn't "down" with a sickness as much as his body was just constantly fighting stuff off.

In recovery, he woke up asking to go home. He was offered slushies and soda pop, but he only wanted water. My fears of all the "bad food dyes" he would be ingesting during his recovery period quickly flew out the window as he kept to a pretty healthy diet, though I offered him so many forbidden treats that I thought for sure he would take them just because the were usually off limits. He said "no" to Jello, snowcones, koolaide, and all you can eat ice cream! He survived on homemade organic chicken-noodle soup and mashed potatoes. He decided hot things felt better and that ice cream was too "fick".

I would say he had a rather good time as a patient, getting lots of attention from mommy and daddy, all the TV he could watch, and plently of visitors bearing presents.

The worst part of recovering was getting him to take his medicine. On the first day he decided he didn't like it, and it become the biggest battle every 4 hours. We tried everything from bribery to spanking - it was terrible! We would have let him experience the pain of NOT taking his medicine, accept a friend of ours told us how they let their son sleep too long on the first day and then the pain was so great when he woke up that he wouldn't take his medicine, nor would he drink anything, and so he ended up becoming dehydrated and had to be re-admitted to the hospital. The threat of returning to the hospital or calling the surgeon usually helped get him to comply, but for the first few days, it was a constant struggle!

Now that it's been a month, I haven't noticed a great change in his health, though we haven't had to deal with nose bleeds and that only makes the whole ordeal worthwhile! Oh, those were just awful! He does seem to be a more pleasant child than before - he responds quicker to redirection and has more stamina. We went to the fair today for 6 hours and he hardly complained at all of being tired! He didn't even fall asleep in the car on the ride home!

When Silas was two years old he fell and broke his arm, and I remembered feeling almost transcendent as I thought "this is what it feels like to have a child with a broken arm." It wasn't easy dealing with it, but it wasn't as bad as I imagined it would be either. Just like the nosebleeds: sometimes he was super calm and held his own tissue and other times he was hysterical about how he couldn't do it. But either way, the episode would come to an end and we would move on. I am so glad that this chapter of Silas' young life is over. I can't wait for what's ahead!

Evermore...

Silas has a favorite CD he likes to listen to during his "quiet" time. It's Dogtrain by Sandra Boyton. The CD "disappeared" a while ago due to a few songs with lyrics that encouraged certain attitudes that don't fly in our house. But I was able to burn a CD with a revised playlist and I surprised him by playing it in the car this week.

Driving on our way to a play group at a friend's house, this song came on. I looked in the rearview mirror to see Silas quietly listening to the words.

"Evermore I will love you,
Evermore I will stay
Ever right here to hold you,
Never so far away.
And though I know some times you go to find your way alone,
Evermore I will love you,
You were never my own."

I looked back at him and said, "I love you."

He said, "I love you too, Mom. This song makes me think of you."

Sniff

Solitude...

Solitude often evokes images of isolation, lonliness, abandonment. But to a stay at home mom, solitude sounds like a little peace of heaven.

In our small group, we are studying Richard Foster's Celebration of Disipline, and last week we talked about the disipline of solitude. This morning I asked Steve to let me leave for bit while Josiah was sleeping, so that I could seek solitude. And what did I do? I made a phone call on the way to the library. Once at the library, I selected a stack of books to flip through to spark ideas on what to teach at mom's group in a couple of days. Then I slipped out my laptop, signed into the wireless network, and now sit at a table in the "Quiet Study" room, blogging. I don't think I'm seeking solitude.

"Solitude begins with a time and a plae for God, and him alone." And here I sit, listening to the inner chaos, making time for me. I can teach on the theory of solitude, but I'm an amateur at the application. It is counter-culture, for sure. And I do have the pressure of time moving me towards activity. I want to accomplish something in this 90 minute period of time I have before I must go back "on duty". I've chosen to blog at this moment to help me organize my thoughts.

I am good at little solitudes in the day, at recognizing those moments when I might be tempted to fill the quiet with noise or words, instead I choose to sit quietly. I have many opportunities every day to sit while nursing Josiah, and while I'm tempted to pick up a book or the phone or my laptop, sometimes I just sit. I don't always pray. I don't always ponder. Sometimes, I listen to the thoughts swirling around in my head, and I cry out to God to order them.

Foster writes "Do not run from distractions but, rather, turn them into prayers. Keep a pad and pencil by your chair as you relax in solitude; when a distracting thought comes into your mind, write it down and then commit it to prayer." I've been trying to do this, to actively address the thoughts that swirl and distract, to lasso them, contain them, and thus remove the power they have to distract me from what God might want to say.

And there in lies the core issue for me: DISTRACTION. I have hardly any peace in my life to really take hold of. I know how to function on a surface level, but I'm failing at hearing God speak because I'm constantly distracted. I have the sweetest two boys in the world, and yet, they can consume me at times in an unholy way to the point where I can no longer hear God speaking to me.

So what do I do? Should I wake up earlier? That seems painful, given Josiah's sleeping habits lately. Do I hire a babysitter? Do I take a walk? I don't have the answers, but I think God wants me to seek Him more in new and creative ways. I wonder if I'll develop some new disciplines along the way?

I'll keep you postd.

Vettriano's "The Singing Butler"

I have decided that I HATE this painting.



For some reason today I see this painting in a whole new light. I wasn't even looking at the painting, haven't seen it in months, when I randomly thought of it. I don't know why it's so popular. Here is a couple with a butler and a maid forced to attend to them while they dance in their self-consumed world. Notice how the poor maid is hunched over, clinging to her hat against the wind. Even the butler has raised his shoulders as if to protect himself from the elements.

And yet this couple is so consumed with the moment, that they hedonistically dance for their own enjoyment, oblivious to the misery of those in their service. We can assume that they know little of true hardship by their manner of dress and by the purposeful posture they both assume. They know the roles they are supposed to be playing, and as long as everyone around them sings the right song and knows all the protocols, all will be fine. Have they ever considered the meaning of life? Or do they buy into the lie that they deserve a better life than those who serve them?

What would Jeeves make of this? "Jeeves and Wooster" is a delightful glimpse into the world pictured above, of elitist youth and the men and women who are doomed to serve them. Jeeves would problably perform the service required of him, but would no doubt record the injustice of it in the Junior Ganymede Club Book where butlers and valets were able to record the real character of those who employee them.

And sadly, this privileged young couple will most likely go through life not knowing real human connection that comes with humility and honesty. In their pride, they will continue on enjoying the benefits of their entitled lives, but truth and love that endures will no doubt elude them. An image that seems to capture all that is romantic is, ironically, more of a poster child for shallow and fleeting affection.

Hopefully now you hate this painting too.

Life...

Silas has his first loose tooth. Josiah is sitting up and playing by himself now. Time is progressing whether I want it to or not.

Life is great right now. I need to remind myself of that when I'm tired. Not sleepy from a hard night, but tired, physically drained from the demands a baby brings. I must carry him everywhere. And he's HEAVY (19 lbs. 10 oz. at his 6 month check-up!) And so when I need to run into a store, I must carry him. When I have to stop by the finance office at preschool to pay a bill, he is on my hip. Everytime I drop Silas off and pick him up from school, I have to unbuckle the baby and carry him in, hold him while I talk to the teacher, gather Silas' papers from his box and stuff them into his backpack along with his lunch box, all the while balancing this jolly 20 pounder on my hip. No wonder my back aches!

And I wouldn't trade it for the world!

And Silas' first loose tooth is sooooo exciting! Our little boy is growing up! He's loosing his baby teeth at the same time that Josiah is getting his. Two wonderful little boys. Yes, life is great.

Reflecting...

I began this post March 6th, intending to add more to it when I had time... I guess I never found time, so here is a partial post that is at least a glimpse at God's faithfulness and my recognition of it.

I can't remember the song, but during worship tonight at Woman's conference, I realized that it was a year ago this weekend that I got pregnant with Josiah. I had been griping to my friends about how I was ovulating and that Steve had gotten really sick AGAIN, and how I was finally ready to "try" after the miscarriage... wow... this is seriously personal for a blog. Thankfully, only my seriously close friends ever read this, so I'll continue.

And there I was, in the sancuary HOLDING my 3 month old son, recognizing God's faithful answer to my prayer.

THAT mom...

Today, I was THAT mom. You know, the one who is a mess, running late, forgetting stuff, baby still in jammies in the middle of the day. Yes, I was THAT mom.

I got a call today at 1:10 p.m. As soon as I saw the school's name on the caller i.d., I realized I forgot that Silas was signed up for Kindergarten Round-up to start at 1:00. I tried to reschedule, but they had no room until the summer session, so I sucked it up, woke the baby up from a nap and went late.

Really late. Silas was still at preschool. Josiah has a little cold and didn't sleep well last night, so I arranged to have Silas stay in extended care to give me a bit more of a break. Nap time starts at 1:00, so when I showed up at 1:25, I felt terrible interrupting the stillness within. Oh, well. It had to be done.

I hurried Silas into the car, not even giving him time to buckle up before heading out. Yes, I was THAT mom. On the drive over, I quickly filled him in on what his crazy mom was up to, and reminded him that our neighbor, Noah, would be there too, so he was quite willing to cooperate. Whew! At least that was easy!

I parked as quickly as I could, behind a bunch of other cars in front of the school and scurried inside. Instead of arriving with my child in the classroom, allowing him to get comfortable with his surroundings before leaving him for a bit, I handed him off to a complete stranger in a hallway and was ushered into the library for the already in progress parent meeting.

I slipped into a seat in the back, hoping to quickly figure out what I had missed. Of course, the lady presenting paused when she noticed me, the new person, and said, "Oh, hi!" as in, "oh, a really, really late parent has joined us. That's weird. Who comes THIS late. Oh, she must be one of THOSE moms." And so the whole room now turned their attention to me. Nice.

I tried to smile as much as possible without looking simple. I guess my thinking was that if I laughed and acted relaxed about my ineptitude, that maybe no one would think this is the REAL me. I was fighting insecurities galore... "you're a stay-at-home mom. you're number one job is to tend to your children. This is a HUGELY important day in his academic career and you obviously have your priorities all wrong..."

If only Josiah was one of those teeny babies, they might have thought, "oh, she has a new baby. well, that's understandable." But no, he looks like a 9-month old, so instead I look even more like a loser.

Of course, Josiah wakes up with all the jostling around and wants to eat. So now I'm that hippy mom in the back breastfeeding her kid. And then he poops. And I'm thinking, "do I leave and change him? do I wait for a shift in speakers? Do I wait until it's over?" But then someone came in to announce that there were a number of vehicles parked out front that were blocking the bus lane and needed to be moved. Of course, I was parked out front. So now I have my arms full of poopy baby and I have to go back out into the crisp spring wind to move my car! I just laughed and bounced outside with the 7 other parents (at least I wasn't the only one!), and parked down the hill.

Returning to the library, I realized I need to stop trying to benefit from this meeting and hope that there was enough information in the multitude of handouts to fill me in on what is really important. But then I had to sign up for a reading assessment in the summer. Seriously? Like I can plan ahead to AUGUST right now. I put my name down for a specific date and time and then turned my attention to poor little Josiah, who was patiently waiting to be cleaned up. One of my neighbors who I was sitting by very graciously offered to write down the date and time of the reading assessment I had just committed to. She even wrote "reading assessment", in case I should forget entirely what I'm suppoedet to be doing when I see her note.

WHen did I become THAT mom? When did I lose my edge? Is it the second child, or did it happen a long time ago and I'm just now realizing it? When I was working, I was so busy, and yet, I was more on top of things. You know, they say if you want something to get down, ask a busy person to do it.

At least it didn't effect Silas at all. In fact, my laid back approach to the whole event kept him from any hint of anxiety, and he had a great time playing with his friends. THAT's the kind of mom I want to be - the one with the really secure, happy and well-adjusted child.

Silas is FIVE!!!

I am so happy to report that Silas did indeed have a better birthday! After a good night sleep, he stumbled out of bed and mumbled, "Happy Birthday to me!" It was such a sweet start to a lovely day. I was in the middle of changing his brother's diaper, so I stopped and gave him a "Happy Birthday" hug and kiss, which he was happy to receive.

We had to hurry a bit out the door to get to his 10:00 a.m. party at Chuck E. Cheese, so he quickly got dressed in his new birthday outfit we had purchased at the mall the day before (he actually LIKED shopping for new clothes - of course, these were not your ordinary clothes, but a glow in the dark shirt, a hoodie with flames on the sleeves, and new glow in the dark shoes.) On the way there we reviewed proper party behavior while he ate his breakfast (I told you he slept well - no time for a gourmet breakfast at home. Nope, this morning it was a Zone bar in the van, and he was thrilled to pieces about it.)

The party itself was just okay. One little boy's mom had not RSVP, so I was surprised when they showed up - all FIVE of them! I was somewhat prepared with an extra goodie bag, but still - who does that? (Obviously nobody who reads this blog, or else I wouldn't be writing that here.) And the night before a friend (who had been invited) called to see if we could invite another boy from school (who had not been invited) because his two brothers had strep throat and so his mom had had to cancel his birthday party (to which Silas had not been invited) which was the same day as Silas'. I was happy to include little Nick, but it was a bit awkward as neither had invited the other originally. It was only that I was TRYING to keep it small-ish.

Apparently Chuck E. Cheese is RAKING in the dough and the economy is really not as bad here in our neck of the woods because the place was absolutely packed!! There were 4 parties at 10:00 a.m. and they were booked solid every 90 minutes until 8:00 p.m.! And so there was a tremendous amount of chaos and background noise to compete with, as well as the distraction of video games to keep kids and parents from connecting in any meaningful way. Don't think we'll do that one again!

Silas, however, was completely satisfied with his birthday party, and that's all the really matters. It was such a full morning that we spent the rest of the day rather quietly. He played with his new toys, even having some quiet time upstairs alone as is our custom, and then we went out for dinner at Red Robin. He wanted to see Red, who wasn't working that night, and he really wanted me to tell our server that it was his birthday. I was thinking that maybe she would say something to me quietly about a dessert or something, so even I was surprised when everyone quickly showed up singing the RR Happy Birthday song. Silas looked terrified at first, and snapped back into the booth, clinging onto Daddy's arm, but after a few worried glances my direction to see my reassuring smile, he relaxed a bit and drank in the moment.

And so now my precious little boy is five. He dresses himself and wipes his own bottom. He can wash his own hair and brush his own teeth. He is almost ready to have his training wheels off his bike. Tonight we spent 45 minutes reading the unabridged version of Stuart Little by E.B. White. It was lovely.

Earlier, he compassionately patted Daddy's arm while praying at dinner because Steve pulled a muscle in his back. He loves to make his brother laugh and has learned that Josiah likes it when he says "T-T-T-T!" in a sweet baby voice.

When he accidently hurt his friend the other night, he was so upset that I actually felt worse for Silas than for his friend (who had fully recovered and was trying to get Silas to come out from behind the couch to see something). I no longer have to hover over him at play groups, wondering how long we can stay before someone gets hurt. He has learned to work things out with words, although he is also learning that not everyone follows the same rules all the time, and so he likes to correct others, young and old, if he thinks there has been some violation of one of his rules, which he thinks are universal.

I am blessed to be Silas' mommy. I thank God every night for bringing this little boy to us. He is a treasure.

Hoping for a better birthday...

Silas' birthday is coming up. Last year was a complete disaster. See the "I want to sell my birthday" post for details.

He wanted a Chuck E. Cheese party this year after attending a friend's party in the fall. He's talked of nothing else. We never told him he was going to have a party; Silas feels that he is entitled to one.

Steve and I have both struggled with the whole party thing. When he's invited to parties and his cousins have parties, it's hard for us to avoid having one for him. To do so would just seem mean to him. And so we conceded and have planned (very last minute), a Chuck E. Cheese birthday party.

And then there is the issue of gifts. He already has way more than he really needs, and so the idea of inviting a bunch of friends and having them show up with gifts just about sends me over the edge. I tried to have a "no gifts, please" party, but when I informed Silas, he got very upset (naturally), and I just felt like the meanest mommy ever. I realized that I was asking for my child to be more mature than he is, wanting him to be 15, not 5.

So tonight we talked about party etiquette, what to say when opening a gift from someone and how to handle duplicates. I"m trying very hard NOT to raise a monster. I want my little boy to always be sweet, always use good manners, and always have clean fingernails. Is that asking too much?

Brothers in Florida...

Neti Pot and other stuff...

Steve is sick AGAIN. I wonder if everyone in healthcare gets as sick as my dear husband...

Yesterday he stopped at the drug store and came home with a neti pot. I am so excited about this. A neti pot is used for nasal irrigation with a saline solution. According to Wikipedia, it is very common in South Asia and is even part of daily personal maintenance, like brushing one's teeth.

So he's using it to clear out his congested sinuses, but what I'm so excited about is how natural it is!!! No harsh chemicals coursing through his veins, manipulating the delicate balance within, just treating the source of the problem, with great results!

And here is the best part: he was going into detail tonight at small group, telling a few friends there about it! I guess it makes me happy because I'm always the one telling others about some new "out-there" thing that I'm into. For him to be sharing something like this just make me feel like we're on the same team. I wonder what our team would be called... perhaps the "Go Naturals".

Speaking of small group... I am so excited that after 5 years of attending our mega church, we are FINALLY plugged into an awesome small group!! It's like the fog is clearing in our grown-up spiritual lives as a couple and as a family, and I am finding myself in a lovely meadow, blinking at the bright morning sun. Can you hear the birds chirping? Sigh.

This has been a prayer for a long time, and to be blessed with friendship as a couple after so many years is so wonderful...

And so tonight I am thankful. I have put my trust in God and He has once again shown himself to be trustworthy and faithful.

Sleep

Josiah is four months old now and many people are asking me about his sleep habits at night. I have mostly stopped nursing him in the night, but he still is far from soothing himself back to sleep on his own. In fact, I had to stop to go give him his pacifier after typing that first sentence!

I'm not sure what to do from here. Part of me is willing to accept constant sleep interruptions because I know it won't last forever. It was so much harder to cope when Silas was not sleeping through the night. I think part of it was that I was working and so needed to be sharp in the morning as my day would start early whether I was rested or not. And part of it was my selfishness from being so used to life on MY terms - it was very challenging for me to give up my routines and comforts to tend to the demands of a small child. I thought things would be so different when I had children - i thought it would be easier.

But now that I've matured a bit and grown into motherhood, I'm much more equipped to handle the sleepless nights. And so my attitude is not one of self-pity but rather of acceptance. I've always been a realist and now I have perspective which gives me surprising grace to function on so little sleep.

On the other hand, I do realize that he is four months old and that perhaps I'm not doing anyone any favors if I never let him learn to self-soothe. Now that we are home from vacation, I'll probably experiment a little on some sleep training. If nothing else, it would be nice for him to take a bottle so that I can leave him with a sitter for more than 2 hours.

(Returning again from replacing "foofoo"...)

And so I will try moving him to the car seat or the swing. I may try letting him cry some. I will give up my attempts repeatedly, I'm sure, and bring him back into bed with me for cuddles. I would just continue to sleep with him if it didn't hurt my back so.

Patience is a virtue. I will work on cultivating more patience.

Josiah's Thumb

Josiah really works on his hands and has been successful a few times in finding his thumb. Here is one of those times.

My Labor Story...

I LOVE this picture. It was taken at the exact moment of Josiah's birth. Can't you see the joy and excitement?

I had a really great labor experience, a 9 out of 10, really. It didn't go exactly according to plan, but I felt so much peace that it was going to go exactly as it SHOULD go. I had prayed that I would have a pain-free labor - a very bold prayer, I know.

My water broke at 4:00 a.m., and at first I was discouraged. I did NOT want to have Pitocin, and if my contractions didn't start on their own within 8 hours, I would have to get the dreaded Pit-drip. So after a brief moment of tears, I gave it to God and we started for the hosipital.

Upon arrival, I was ordered to change into a drafty hospital gown, which I politely refused. Instead, I wore a tank top and skirt which allowed everyone access to whatever they needed to get to, and at the same time, I was able to maintain my dignity. It was so nice to walk the halls in REAL clothes! I felt like I was just there visiting someone, instead of being a patient myself. I highly recommend staying in your own clothes!!!

And to get the contractions going we did a LOT of walking! We made laps, stopping a bit every hour for the nurses to hook me back up to the monitors and to check my progress. I came in at about 3 cm and every time the checked me I dialated another centimeter or so, so they let me keep doing things my way. As long as I progressed, I wouldn't have to have pitocin. I DID NOT WANT PITOCIN!

By about 1:00 p.m., my water was really gushing when I moved, so I no longer felt comfortable outside of the room, but I still didn't want to labor in that bed if I didn't have to, so I sat on the birthing ball. Steve sat on the corner of the bed and held my hands and provided stability; Kylene, my doula, sat on a chair behind me, rubbing my back and providing counter pressure. They were the perfect team!

And having a doula was the way to go! A doula is a labor coach, someone was is there to assist the mother with her birth. And Kylene was so great! She provided us with so much confidence and peace. I didn't feel the need to take a refresher class in childbirth because I had read plenty and I knew if we had a question, we could just ask Kylene! She didn't impose her opinions on us, but did gently provide information if there was a question, or she would make small suggestions that were so helpful! Her help was so non-invasive that my mom (who was also present for the delivery) commented that she didn't think the doula did much of anything. Didn't do anything?!? I couldn't have done it without her!!!

The nurses assigned to me were an interesting pair. We got off to a bad start when the pretty rookie nurse tried to start my IV and infiltrated the vein. I told her it didn't feel right and she checked it, insisted that she had it in there right, but offered that she would change it if I wanted her to. Not wanting to be difficult, I tried to grin and bear it, but after they started the antibiotics, it became apparent that I was right about it not feeling normal when my whole forearm became swollen and painfully immobile. So that was when the slightly more senior nurse started my IV on my other arm and the tension between the two nurses mounted.

In hindsight, I wish I had been a little difficult and asked for different nurses. The competition that seemed to be going on between them interferred with the calm labor I was trying to have. They were biased against a natural labor and planted the seed of fear that if I waited too long to ask for an epidural, I might not be able to get one. And every time they came into the room, they would offer pain relief. I was a bit dumbfounded - I was barely in pain, let alone so much pain that I couldn't handle it! I would look at Steve and reflect that I wasn't having difficulty getting through the contractions at that point, so why would I want to mess it up with an epidural. I was not opposed to getting one, I just didn't want to get it too early and then be confined to the bed.

After 12 hours of labor, the contractions were becoming my main focus. I wasn't able to chat in between them. Unfortuately, the princess nurse was so out of touch that she continually talked to me DURING contractions... "now when this contraction is over we're going to..." HELLO!!! Wait until the contraction is over to tell me what you're going to do, would you please!!! It was obvious that she preferred women to be numb to the pain so she didn't have to be considerate. This girl thinks she's a great nurse, but in time she'll be lucky to be a "good" one.

My doctor ordered another round of anti-biotics, but unfortuately, my IV had dried up or something because the nurse had to hold my arm and press the tubing a certain way to get the medicine to flow. It was either that, or start a new IV. Um, no thanks. So chubby senior nurse held my arm for 15 minutes and with that, I was ready for my epidural. My ability to cope on my own was weakened and the fear that I might not be able to do it on my own overwhelmed me. 

The epidural was actually the worst part of my labor. For some reason, my blood pressure fell to 70 over something and my lovely, peaceful, labor turned into a scene of multiple medical interventions. Steve and Kylene were pushed out of the way to make room for multiple medical personnel who were working to bring my blood pressure back up. I don't know what all happened as I might have black-out for a bit, but as I came back around, I asked for Steve and he was allowed to pop his head back in for a moment. I asked if everything was okay and he very convincingly told me that it was, so I relaxed. Later he told me that at the moment everything was NOT okay and that he was very upset by how it was being handled. Well, he did a good job of making me feel better at least.

Once I was stable again, it was time to push and so my legs were lifted into the stirrups (a HUGE negative to having the epidural - this is the only position available for pushing), and princess nurse began calling my labor. I was too excited to care about that, and so Kylene became the photographer capturing this wonderful expression of joy.

Josiah was born at 6:28 p.m., after 14 1/2 hours of labor. That sounds like a long time, but really it wasn't bad at all. I wish now that I had not gotten the epidural, and that I'd asked for different nurses, but that is really all that I would change about my labor. I would still give it a 9 out of 10; Steve gives it a 3 out of 10. The doctor in him just can't get over the whole epidural thing.

Josiah's Swing Friends

Josiah hangs out in the swing in the kitchen when I'm cooking or eating (or when I just need to put him down for a minute.) He has recently started noticing the giraffe and bear that are attached to the swing and has even started "talking" to them.

Playing School

It's cold and snowy here. Many of the schools were closed or on delay. For some reason, Silas school was scheduled to begin as usual and I didn't feel like braving the bad weather first thing in the morning, so I let Silas stay home from school. I was probably just going to let him watch TV or play video games all day - I'm such a good mom. But when I mentioned letting him stay home, Steve asked if I didn't want to take him just so I could have a break for 3 hours. For some weird reason, that motivated me to not only keep him home, but to plan a full day of activities with him.

So today we played school. I was the teacher and Silas was my student. I kept to the schedule that he is used to and we had a wonderful day together. Everything became a learning activity just by giving it a different name. We had circle time by sitting on a blanket on the floor. We discussed the calendar and the weather. I introduced telling time using a clock puzzle he has played with for a year. I realized he will have to master the concept of counting by "fives" before he will be successful, but at least he's been introduced. And Silas set up "centers" with various puzzles and games.

After circle time, we had snack. And since I am the teacher, I chose the snack and he came to the table and ate what he wanted (the orange) and not the rest (organic string cheese is not very string-y). He didn't argue about what was for snack because I had taken control and made the decision. Why don't I just make those descisions more often and just tell him how it's going to be? Why am I constantly giving away control and setting us up for a battle? I guess I learned something today too!

We practiced writing the letter "K", which is the letter of the week at school. And then I did an activity with him to discuss "stranger danger". I got the idea out of the book Kitchen Table Play and Learn. I cut out pictures of people from magazines, some sinister and some not, and we pasted them on a poster board under the titles "safe" or "danger" and discussed why. I also talked to him about what to do if he's lost in a crowd (which happened two weeks ago at the local children's science museum we frequent), how to choose a stranger to ask for help (a grandma type or a parent with little children) and who would NOT be as good of a choice (a man by himself). Then we talked about what he should do if someone tried to take him from our backyard, that it's okay to hit (and he added kick or bite), and that it's not okay for ANYONE to touch him wear his bathing suit belongs. Oh, that's an awful conversation to have, but a necessary one.

For "Art Time" I introduced modeling clay. During G'ym Time" we kicked a soccer ball around the basement. "Music Time" involved a turtle shaped whistle I brought back as a soverneir from Mexico. And Home Living we learned how to give a baby a bath - Josiah was kind enough to play the role of the baby.

All in all it was a lovely day, one that I wished we had more of.

josiah smiles

The Big Brother

Silas has really impressed us in his role as a big brother... We weren't sure we would have such a smooth transition. I've recently starting using the term "high needs child" when referring to Silas - it seems like there are fewer negative connotations to that over "strong willed child".

Silas is a GREAT kid, and I wouldn't trade him for the world. We have learned that we have to be extremely intentional with him and that the smallest things are hard for him to overcome. What works for some parents hasn't worked for us and so we have learned to adjust our tactics - which some people interpret as "walking on egg shells" around him or catering to him. Well, he's our son and we're doing the best we can.

Anyway, we weren't sure what it would be like for him to have to share mom and dad, especially mom. Would he be jealous? Impatient? Would he ask us to take the baby back to the hospital? All of these thoughts ran through our heads and became part of our prayers as we prepared for the birth of number 2.

Thankfully, it has been such an easy transition that we are silently holding our breath still. Silas is a FANTASTIC big brother. He hasn't shown any signs of jealousy and really seems to enjoy the cute little baby that belongs to our family. And I think the ownership aspect has been key. Whenever I'm busy with Josiah and can't get to Silas right away, I tell him that I'm helping "his brother" at the moment, but will be with him as soon as I'm finished. And one of Silas' newest nicknames is "Big Brother" (other nicknames include Vern, Bubba, Siley, and Chief).

And Silas has become much more affectionate since we've brought Josiah home. I used to go days without unsolicited affection, but now we get lots of hugs, kisses and "I love you's". I said all along that Silas really needed a sibling and apparently, I was right. Seeing this loving little boy emerge is very gratifying.

I am so blessed to have two wonderful boys, and I am even more thankful that the expansion of our family is off to a great start.