Princesses, princesses everywhere, (gag)

This post follows one that I wrote a couple years ago here in which I stated my fear of having a daughter that would turn out to be a "princess". Thankfully we have a daughter, and thankfully thus far have been able to avoid the syndrome. The other day, a friend who I hadn't seen in a while mentioned that I have one princess among my boys. I know she meant well, but it again reminded me how much it bothers me to hear little girls acting this way or being treated this way (most often by their parents).

The dictionary gives the definition as this:
prin·cess (prnss, -ss, prn-ss) n.

1. A woman member of a royal family other than the monarch, especially a daughter of a monarch. 2. A woman who is a ruler of a principality. 3. A noblewoman of varying status or rank. 4. The wife of a prince. 5. A woman regarded as having the status or qualities of a princess.

Do any of our daughters fall into that category? Are we raising royalty? Why aren't we raising our sons to be princes then? Other than being a child of a King (that King being our God on high), we should all be much more focused on being servants to one another, following in Christ's footsteps, and calling our daughters names that encourage that. The idea that our daughters should be princesses (that will one day meet Prince Charming) only sets them up for failure. The world is not going to see them as anything other than one of the many millions of others out there. Their future employers are going to want someone who digs in and works hard (more like Cinderella in her former days). Their future husband will hopefully treat her like a princess, but is she going to attract the right kind of husband with her world-owes-me-a-favor-'cause-I'm-so-cute attitude?

I say the rest of this because we finally got a library card and Elise checked out 2 Disney princess books (she already has a few doodads, so recognized them). Reading those books was nauseating. All about beauty and Prince Charming and dresses and "how do I look?" business. We've only watched Cinderella as far as the princess movies go, and I am thankful my kids enjoyed the cat and mouse shenanigans more than the rest of the story. (Except James who asked, "why were those stepsisters trying to kill Cinderella?" when they were stealing their beads and sashes back.) And I don't think we'll be watching the rest of them anytime soon. Beauty and the Beast has always bothered me due to the notion that it portrays that everything will work out if you just love someone enough. Hello, not true!

These days Elise is quite happy with Holley Shiftwell (from Cars 2), Strawberry Shortcake , Hello, Kitty with a smattering of Tinkerbell and that's just fine with me! Just as I finished typing this, I checked my email and this was written on one of them about training our children. Kind of sums up my thoughts on the matter.

"Instead of worrying about "socialization", concentrate on raising polite, courteous and thoughtful people. Teach your children the importance of having a few good friends instead of a bunch of mediocre acquaintances. Stress loyalty and dedication over popularity and shallow emotional gratification."

"Commit thy way unto the LORD; trust also in him; and he shall bring it to pass. And he shall bring forth thy righteousness as the light, and thy judgment as the noonday." (Psalm 37:5-6)

Don't Carpe Diem, part I

I'm posting this article, as it should be read before I post my opinion in the next post. So, this is part I, part II to follow below.

by Glennon Melton

"Every time I'm out with my kids -- this seems to happen:

An older woman stops us, puts her hand over her heart and says something like, "Oh, Enjoy every moment. This time goes by so fast."

Everywhere I go, someone is telling me to seize the moment, raise my awareness, be happy, enjoy every second, etc, etc, etc.

I know that this message is right and good. But, I have finally allowed myself to admit that it just doesn't work for me. It bugs me. This CARPE DIEM message makes me paranoid and panicky. Especially during this phase of my life - while I'm raising young kids. Being told, in a million different ways to CARPE DIEM makes me worry that if I'm not in a constant state of intense gratitude and ecstasy, I'm doing something wrong.

I think parenting young children (and old ones, I've heard) is a little like climbing Mount Everest. Brave, adventurous souls try it because they've heard there's magic in the climb. They try because they believe that finishing, or even attempting the climb are impressive accomplishments. They try because during the climb, if they allow themselves to pause and lift their eyes and minds from the pain and drudgery, the views are breathtaking. They try because even though it hurts and it's hard, there are moments that make it worth the hard. These moments are so intense and unique that many people who reach the top start planning, almost immediately, to climb again. Even though any climber will tell you that most of the climb is treacherous, exhausting, killer. That they literally cried most of the way up.

And so I think that if there were people stationed, say, every thirty feet along Mount Everest yelling to the climbers -- "ARE YOU ENJOYING YOURSELF!? IF NOT, YOU SHOULD BE! ONE DAY YOU'LL BE SORRY YOU DIDN'T!" TRUST US!! IT'LL BE OVER TOO SOON! CARPE DIEM!" -- those well-meaning, nostalgic cheerleaders might be physically thrown from the mountain.

Now. I'm not suggesting that the sweet old ladies who tell me to ENJOY MYSELF be thrown from a mountain. These are wonderful ladies. Monkees, probably. But last week, a woman approached me in the Target line and said the following: "Sugar, I hope you are enjoying this. I loved every single second of parenting my two girls. Every single moment. These days go by so fast."

At that particular moment, Amma had arranged one of the new bras I was buying on top of her sweater and was sucking a lollipop that she must have found on the ground. She also had three shop-lifted clip-on neon feathers stuck in her hair. She looked exactly like a contestant from Toddlers and Tiaras. I couldn't find Chase anywhere, and Tish was grabbing the pen on the credit card swiper thing WHILE the woman in front of me was trying to use it. And so I just looked at the woman, smiled and said, "Thank you. Yes. Me too. I am enjoying every single moment. Especially this one. Yes. Thank you."

That's not exactly what I wanted to say, though.

There was a famous writer who, when asked if he loved writing, replied, "No. but I love having written." What I wanted to say to this sweet woman was, "Are you sure? Are you sure you don't mean you love having parented?"

I love having written. And I love having parented. My favorite part of each day is when the kids are put to sleep (to bed) and Craig and I sink into the couch to watch some quality TV, like Celebrity Wife Swap, and congratulate each other on a job well done. Or a job done, at least.

Every time I write a post like this, I get emails suggesting that I'm being negative. I have received this particular message four or five times -- G, if you can't handle the three you have, why do you want a fourth?

That one always stings, and I don't think it's quite fair. Parenting is hard. Just like lots of important jobs are hard. Why is it that the second a mother admits that it's hard, people feel the need to suggest that maybe she's not doing it right? Or that she certainly shouldn't add more to her load. Maybe the fact that it's so hard means she IS doing it right...in her own way...and she happens to be honest.

Craig is a software salesman. It's a hard job in this economy. And he comes home each day and talks a little bit about how hard it is. And I don't ever feel the need to suggest that he's not doing it right, or that he's negative for noticing that it's hard, or that maybe he shouldn't even consider taking on more responsibility. And I doubt anybody comes by his office to make sure he's ENJOYING HIMSELF. I doubt his boss peeks in his office and says: "This career stuff...it goes by so fast...ARE YOU ENJOYING EVERY MOMENT IN THERE, CRAIG???? CARPE DIEM, CRAIG!"

My point is this. I used to worry that not only was I failing to do a good enough job at parenting, but that I wasn't enjoying it enough. Double failure. I felt guilty because I wasn't in parental ecstasy every hour of every day and I wasn't MAKING THE MOST OF EVERY MOMENT like the mamas in the parenting magazines seemed to be doing. I felt guilty because honestly, I was tired and cranky and ready for the day to be over quite often. And because I knew that one day, I'd wake up and the kids would be gone, and I'd be the old lady in the grocery store with my hand over my heart. Would I be able to say I enjoyed every moment? No.

But the fact remains that I will be that nostalgic lady. I just hope to be one with a clear memory. And here's what I hope to say to the younger mama gritting her teeth in line:

"It's helluva hard, isn't it? You're a good mom, I can tell. And I like your kids, especially that one peeing in the corner. She's my favorite. Carry on, warrior. Six hours till bedtime." And hopefully, every once in a while, I'll add -- "Let me pick up that grocery bill for ya, sister. Go put those kids in the van and pull on up -- I'll have them bring your groceries out."

Anyway. Clearly, Carpe Diem doesn't work for me. I can't even carpe fifteen minutes in a row, so a whole diem is out of the question.

Here's what does work for me:

There are two different types of time. Chronos time is what we live in. It's regular time, it's one minute at a time, it's staring down the clock till bedtime time, it's ten excruciating minutes in the Target line time, it's four screaming minutes in time out time, it's two hours till daddy gets home time. Chronos is the hard, slow passing time we parents often live in.

Then there's Kairos time. Kairos is God's time. It's time outside of time. It's metaphysical time. It's those magical moments in which time stands still. I have a few of those moments each day. And I cherish them.

Like when I actually stop what I'm doing and really look at Tish. I notice how perfectly smooth and brownish her skin is. I notice the perfect curves of her teeny elf mouth and her asianish brown eyes, and I breathe in her soft Tishy smell. In these moments, I see that her mouth is moving but I can't hear her because all I can think is -- This is the first time I've really seen Tish all day, and my God -- she is so beautiful. Kairos.

Like when I'm stuck in chronos time in the grocery line and I'm haggard and annoyed and angry at the slow check-out clerk. And then I look at my cart and I'm transported out of chronos. And suddenly I notice the piles and piles of healthy food I'll feed my children to grow their bodies and minds and I remember that most of the world's mamas would kill for this opportunity. This chance to stand in a grocery line with enough money to pay. And I just stare at my cart. At the abundance. The bounty. Thank you, God. Kairos.

Or when I curl up in my cozy bed with Theo asleep at my feet and Craig asleep by my side and I listen to them both breathing. And for a moment, I think- how did a girl like me get so lucky? To go to bed each night surrounded by this breath, this love, this peace, this warmth? Kairos.

These kairos moments leave as fast as they come- but I mark them. I say the word kairos in my head each time I leave chronos. And at the end of the day, I don't remember exactly what my kairos moments were, but I remember I had them. And that makes the pain of the daily parenting climb worth it.

If I had a couple Kairos moments during the day, I call it a success.

Carpe a couple of Kairoses a day.

Good enough for me."

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/glennon-melton/dont-carpe-diem_b_1206346.html

"Carpe Diem" (Seize the Day) part II

Today I read the above article, and it really hit home to me. Maybe because I've just gotten past the scary newborn stage, and am now into the oh-so-fun teething stage. But partly because many folks these days are caught up in the "One Thousand Gifts" mantra, and I just haven't been able to jump on the bandwagon. Don't get me wrong, there is absolutely nothing wrong with being thankful for the little things, the everyday things, and the boring and even mundane things. I think it's great to be grateful for all the things we're given and find myself being grateful and thankful many hundred times each day (as well as being frustrated or irritated at some situation) too. But, do I need to write it all down? Because I feel like if I don't, then I'm not being thankful enough. What if I just prayerfully thank God for my blessings (generally speaking, for the most part, only a few of them specific), does that mean I'm not thankful enough? I wrote about some of those in this post a while back.

Thinking about this today, I started to mentally keep track of things I'm thankful for in the day, just to see where my thoughts randomly went (without specifically sending them anywhere, such as into thankfulness mode). I had thankful thoughts all day long.
I'm thankful that the snow was melting (I was also thankful it came!)
-for my nice warm house,
-our wood stove,
-firewood,
-my new homemade soaked oatmeal granola (yum, can't wait to try eating it tomorrow morning, and will share recipe if it's as good as I think it'll be),
-the fact that my baby boy loves my hanging paper lanterns as much as I do (he gets a big grin every time he looks at them) and I've tried taking them down in the past, but miss them too much myself
-that I got my tall counter cleaned off (rarely happens)
-good memories in the pictures I found while cleaning the counter
-my oldest son's willingness to help hundreds of times each day
-second boys grin right before I had to admonish him ---- again
-my little girl's "my wips is kind of dwy" (hint hint: need chapstick)
-my baby boy sleeping on my chest (no wonder I have so much trouble sleep training)
-my sweetie working hard for all of us, getting up so early
-hot bath with a new magazine
-cloth diapers (I have to change them more often, but they make me super happy every time I use them)
-carpet floors on cold days
-a laptop to type while in my comfy LazyBoy while nursing my baby
-Christmas lights still up in the front window that cast a warm glow on the room in the dark
-being able to crochet while baby sleeps on my chest each afternoon
-comfy baby carriers
-lots of pants for my neglectful potty training girl
-warm winter boots that I bought in Alaska that are waterproof
-dark chocolate from Trader Joe's
-beef in the freezer for when I can't get to town
-the ability to have my children home with me and to be able to educate them and watch them grow


The list could go on and on. That was just what came to mind sitting here with no deep thinking. I guess I feel guilty most of the time when this subject arises because I feel that external things/people put pressures on me, when in fact I believe I'm right where I'm supposed to be (always with room for improvement, of course!) I feel I do try to seize each day, and be thankful TO GOD (an important aspect of thankfulness that's often overlooked) for all those little and big things.

But, I do know that last year when I was depressed, nothing anyone said or did made me thankful. When someone told me, "be thankful you're not in Japan with the tsunami", all it did was make me feel more guilty. It didn't help me change my perspective in the least. When I felt physically better, my attitude changed on it's own. I guess that's why motivating posters always kind of get on my nerves. Do they actually ever work? Maybe for other personality types they do, but I "just do it" without someone else telling me to.

I guess I'm a pretty positive, self-motivated person overall, and some people aren't so much so, either in personality or in their place in life. Some people feel the world owes them a favor, or that they have some entitlement that the rest of us are not privy to. For those people, I can see how this thankfulness trend is useful and necessary. But for normal folk like me, suck it up and live!

It's getting late, so my thoughts are sort of getting rambly...nighty night!

Our big little Lukey

You know how when you were a kid (and even today, perhaps, although you aren't as ready to admit it) when you want something, you just have to have it? For no apparent reason, and that desire doesn't go away until the "need" is met?

Well, this young boy wanted slippers. He couldn't tell me why, or what kind, or where we should get them. Just that he wanted some.

I tried to push the notion aside, considering he used to have a pair that never got worn and I just tripped on them the majority of the time. He wanted them for Christmas last year, and I stalled. Tried to convince him that something else would be more fun, more useful. To no avail. Every now and then he'd ask, "Mom, can I get some slippers?" or "I'd really like some slippers."














So, this Christmas we were shopping, actually his brother and sister were shopping and we (he and I) were trying to avoid them so they could find something for him. We came across these Lightning McQueen slippers. I asked him if those were the kind he'd like. An excited, "YES!" He proudly carried them around the store until it was time to check out, and then was happy to wrap them up for himself and save them for Christmas. When he opened them up, he slipped them on and wears them faithfully every day! I was proven wrong!

Sometimes it seems like kids just want everything, so knowing what to get and what to pass by sometimes meld together. But, this time, the thoughts didn't fade away and I'm glad we could make this young man so happy!

Every Chef Needs One of These

I love all my kids dearly, but for different reasons. Today I'm going to write about James, and one of the traits that I love about him. Pretty much every day, he gets quite excited about every meal. He is my least picky kid, whose favorite food often is avocados. Sometimes hot dogs though too.

A common occurrence happened the other day, which I'll relate and you'll realize why every cook needs one of these boys around. The conversation went something like this:
Me: Supper-time! (the kids obediently come running, haha)
James: Mmm, I love supper.
Me: You don't even know what we're having.
James: I know, but I just know it'll be good!
Me: Well, I hope you're not disappointed.
After he starts eating, in a very sing-song voice, "Mm-mm, I was right, it is good!"

Often he'll say, "this is the best ____ in the whole world" or "this is the best supper I have ever eaten" or the other day for lunch "mmm, I love egg salad, it's my favorite" and then the next day, "mmm, I love tuna, it's my favorite". This kid just loves whatever food you make him!

Today though, my hopes were kind of dashed (after I was all puffed up from all his compliments) and he says to me (while eating yogurt, thankfully)

James (4): "Mom, do you know who makes the best spaghetti in the world (no 'r' pronounced)?
Me: "Umm, me?" (hoping)
James: "No, Kristie does!"
Augh...the audacity of my own child! I'd better get that recipe from her now too! I guess pride goeth before a fall, hey?

"Before I Formed Thee in the Womb....."

My friend Emmy wrote this and posted it on Facebook. She gave me permission to share it.

"Before I formed thee in the womb I knew thee; and before thou camest forth out of the womb I sanctified thee, and ordained thee a prophet unto the nations."Jer 1:5

"I was thinking tonight about when life begins, does it begin like so many people in our culture believe when a baby has been delivered from the womb and is free and independent of the mother's body? Does it begin at conception, when a sperm and egg meet and are safely implanted in the mother's uterus? Or does it begin in the heart and mind of the Creator? If an artist were to create a master piece where would we say it originated? If we tore up his canvas and destroyed his brushes can you imagine his frustration at having this desire to create and seeing his lovely creation in his mind's eye and but being unable to ever form it and see it become a reality?

Burdette and I spent a season of our lives thinking and praying about this very thing. We didn't want to feel trapped, having many children that we didn't really appreciate or know how to properly care for. We also didn't want to be deceived by the culture or an ungodly world view. We could not seem to get away from the verses in the word that say that God knew us before we were even formed (Psalm 139:16) or even while we were still in our father's loins (Hebrews 7:9-10). They spoke so clearly to us that people are God's creation, that it wasn't about our physical bodies but about our willingness to be a vessel for the Lord to create a living soul, a child that he would give us the wisdom and grace to care for if we would trust him. As far as providing for their physical needs we believed His promises that He even cares for the sparrows and that He has yet to see the righteous forsaken or his seed begging for bread. We both had the testimonies of our fathers as well, who were honest, hard working men. They did not have college degrees or an earthly inheritance with which to raise us but they trusted the Lord and although Burdette's parents had 16 children and mine had 15 children we never lacked the things we needed. In fact we did not lack anything and both had happy childhoods, never even realizing the things we did not have because we had the important things that make children content.

My children and I were talking tonight about the Israelites in Egypt and how God multiplied them so greatly that Pharaoh became afraid and ordered the midwives to kill the boy babies. But the midwives would not obey and despite what the Egyptians would do to the Israelites God blessed them with health and children. Then I was thinking of all the blessings of the Lord through out the old testament and how many, many times he told his people that if they would obey him he would bless them with among other things fruitful wombs. (Duet 7:12-16, Isaiah 49:19-20, Jer 31:27 and 33:21, Ezekiel 36:37-38 and 36:10, Zach`2:4) Just to name a few! Also if you look up barrenness you will find that it was given as a curse.

I think it is sad that so many believers have taken a curse upon themselves and turned away God's blessings. What if the Israelites had thought, "This life is too horrible, I mean we are slaves! Why bring more slaves into the world? We better figure out a way to prevent pregnancy." God would not have had his large, healthy, victorious people to lead out of Egypt! I'm going to be like the midwives in Egypt. I'm going to refuse to obey the wisdom of this world that says to me that God's blessing is a curse and that I should destroy my children and prevent future generations from even existing. Instead I will pray that God will bless us and our children and if the world stands, our children's children with fruitful wombs and hearts that see God's gifts as good.

A while ago I heard one of our ministers read from Psalm 127 and he said he did a word study on the third verse. He said the word heritage in this verse means a heirloom, something precious and valuable that we would pass on from generation to generation. Isn't that beautiful? "Except the Lord build the house, they labor in vain that build it, except the Lord keep a city, the watchman waketh but in vain......Lo, children are an heritage of the Lord and the fruit of the womb is his reward. As arrows in the hand of a mighty man, so are the children of the youth. Happy is the man who has his quiver full of them: they shall not be ashamed, but they shall speak with the enemies in the gate." If any of you haven't thought about birth control from a spiritual stand point I would encourage you to read Nancy Campbell's book Be Fruitful and Multiply. It is full of scripture and rather than being legalistic I think it is very freeing. All of my love and good will, Emmy"

A little girl with a small family said in the Above Rubies magazine that I subscribe to, to her friend with a large family, "your family seems complete, mine feels like there's people missing." What insight! How it isn't about us anymore when we commit to have taken up our cross and followed Him. It's about souls for Christ. What better way to win souls for Christ than to increase the numbers in His army? My will, my dreams, and my desires fade in comparison with what my Master has in store for me when I seek His will to run ALL areas of my life. Yikes, that's a tall order!

Readers, readers everywhere

Unable to put a finger on it, I have been thinking about readers (aka: those who read books, and books and books) and not sure where my thoughts should go because I was not really sure of where my thoughts had been. So, in some deliberate pondering, I came up with a few things. This topic has surfaced, because our oldest child is sure to be a reader. He LOVES books. He's taken off with reading, and, as his mother, I wanted to know how much I should encourage reading, and how much to set boundaries on it. Let me explain.

I grew up in a family of readers. My Dad has always loved historical books, non-fictional. He read us all kinds of history books, and still reads mountains of them today. He did go through a hiatus from them one time, and read the TinTin books quite thoroughly (after which he'd dream about adventures with Captain Haddock and relive them at breakfast each morning, much to our amusement!) My Mom loves biographies and health/nutritional books. My older sister read everything, mostly girls fiction though. She read and read and read. Every summer she would win the reading contest at the library, after checking out stacks and stacks of books. My mom would have to vouch to the librarian that she actually DID read them. My brother read everything too. He mostly read non-fiction. Things like the encyclopedias A-Z, the dictionary, manuals for machines, and of course lots of The Adventures of Tin Tin too. It wasn't uncommon for our whole family to be reading all those long winter evenings. Except me and my littlest sister would be reading Archie comics as our form of increasing our knowledge of the world.

Many of our friends were readers too, which got on my nerves because the girls would always rather read than play with me. And if they did want to play, it was to reenact scenes from books that of course I hadn't read. *du-mb* (my kid opinion) As I was explaining this predicament to my husband the other day, he summed it up, "so, you have a bias against readers because they shafted you as a child". Yep, that pretty much says it! One of my cousins also mentioned to me (as an adult) that when she visited our house as a child, my sister had her nose in a book the whole time she visited, leaving her feeling like she (my sister) didn't really care to have visitors. I don't want that to be my child in a few years, so am wondering how to strike that balance in my own kids.

In the book, First Born Advantage, Dr. Kevin Leman explains how many first born children are book lovers. He says that they attach themselves to books to avoid being hurt by people. (I can't remember why he says they do this, or what to do about it, but have found this if often true) Books don't betray. Books are less work than relationships. You can 'drop out' if you don't like what's going on, unlike real life. Because of this, many avid readers have a Pollyanna view to life, and have a much harder time dealing with reality. Because, in the real world relationships are hard work. Husbands don't come riding in on a white horse but instead are sinful human nature like ourselves. Real kids get dirty faces and behave unexpectedly much of the time. Wives in real life don't wear a flowered apron and always have a sunshiny disposition with endless energy and freshly baked cookies on the counter. (at least not in this house) But in books, you can choose what you want life to be. Loving reading is a great gift, but one that also needs discretion.

Another thought that sparked interest in me recently was a quote from a lady in a magazine I subscribe to. She was listing bits of advice for young ladies seeking wife-hood and later motherhood. She said, "I wish I had spent more time learning about how life works than having my nose buried in a book all those teenage years". I know of one man who ruined his eyes reading by the streetlight because his parents had removed his lightbulbs at night so he wouldn't stay up ALL night reading (when he had school the next day). He also read from the light that came under his bedroom door. I DO NOT want this to happen.

So, to close I still wonder- how much should a child read? How do you limit reading (if you need to) yet still encouraging a love for books? How do you censor what books your child reads (without reading them all yourself)? And at what age do you do this? Any thoughts are welcome.















Luke wearing his new hat and pj's, while reading his new book "Squanto" that he got from Auntie B for Christmas.

new option

I think I've finally figured out how to get the blog sent to your email if desired. On the top right, above our picture, you can now sign up. Let me know if you know of a better way, as I'm not so savvy in that area.

Tribute to Uncle Cliff/Ain't it funny how a smell can bring back a memory?

It all started with my chapstick fetish that I have. Over the years I accumulated dozens of those little tubes, and then one day said, "this is ridiculous" and vowed to use them up before I bought one more. Mind you, this was very difficult to do as buying chapstick is one of my biggest vices (in the material sense). So, since we've moved to WA, I have not bought any, but continued to use up the ones in my stash (which was overflowing profusely). Last spring I realized that my stash was empty. Completely and honestly empty. And I was using Lipsmackers Amethyst Grape (my least favorite kind of the lot, so it got left until last). Now, being the frugal person that I am, I couldn't bear to pay full price to replenish my supply, so I headed down to my favorite liquidation store Prospector's, as I knew they'd have some of what I needed. Bingo- they did! So, I rifled through their stash (at $0.25 a piece, mostly) and found a handful of brand new tubes in reliable brands in reliable flavors. There's nothing quite like getting a gross kind, in my opinion.

So, over the next few months I began using them. One in the car, one in my purse. One on the nightstand, you get the picture. Then I happened to open one and got not quite what I was expecting...in a good way. I opened a ChapStick original (you know, the pink kind with the black label, the most boring yet reliable flavor in the world?!) and the smell just hit me. It took me right back to being a kid and riding in my Uncle Cliff's truck home from church with him and using his black chapstick (while checking out all the other cool things in a bachelor uncle's truck).

Uncle Cliff (Staudinger) was my Dad's oldest brother. He would turn 70 this year in April, but died at age 47 from esophageal cancer. He was the only sibling that never married, thus spoiled us nieces and nephews quite nicely. He was a farmer, and prior to that drove a car carrier for many years (he would be my boys hero if he still was around and did that for a living!) He lived 3 miles from us, and did our farming for us since my Dad had a business to run in those days. We loved riding in the tractor with him or playing in the grain of the grain truck while the bed was dumping out the grain as it was unloading. (Mom hated that we did it because barley has burrs that would stick to our clothes and wouldn't come out very well), but Uncle Cliff let us. He would always ask us, "so, what did you learn in school today?" to which we'd reply, "nothing" and he'd answer, "well, I don't see much sense in going if you don't learn anything!" We still had to go though!

He had 6 vehicles, all of which were licensed and he drove regularly. 3 cars and 3 trucks. At his house you could jump on the bed endlessly and twirl the glass chandelier (in the guest room) all up and then let it go so it spilled fancy light shapes all over the room and no one minded. We never had to wear seatbelts when we rode with him (it wasn't the law in Alberta back then, but Mom made us anyhow).

The day he was diagnosed with cancer, I remember all too well. We were eating supper when we got the phone call. We had spinach that night, which was hard enough to choke down on a good day, and then after that gut wrenching news, was impossible to get down. I was barely 14, having a rough year starting high school anyhow, and that didn't help the problem. He had surgery, but there was one area in his stomach that wouldn't heal up, so he remained in the hospital on TPN (total parenteral nutrition via IV) since he couldn't eat. He was in the hospital probably 5 months when he then went home to my Grandpa and Grandma's house for care. He still thought he'd get better, but by then the cancer had spread to his liver. He was amazingly optimistic, but lost alot of weight and in the end was very jaundiced. He never pitied himself for being sick, but instead looked on the positives namely 1) he was living in this world and a certain number of people get cancer, and he happened to be one of them. 2) he was single, so if he died, he was glad that he wouldn't be leaving a widow or fatherless children as any of his siblings would have been 3) he was a Christian and would spend eternity with his Savior.

The biggest guilt I have ever held in my life, happened the week he died. It was a huge burden, and it took many years before I even had the courage to mention it to anyone, to lighten the load of guilt. Our whole family was over at my grandparents for dinner (all the cousins, aunts and uncles, etc), so us kids were asked to stay outside since Cliff was so weak. Right before we were to go home for the day, I ran inside to use the bathroom. Cliff was sitting in a recliner and said "hi, Rachel" as I ran by. I didn't want to see him looking so sickly, so I kept running calling "hi" over my shoulder as I ran. I could tell he wanted me to stop, but I ran right back outside and we went home. On the way home, I started to feel bad for not stopping and giving him a hug or small amount of my time. I realized that even though he looked so sick, he was still the same person inside. I vowed that next time we saw him, I'd spend time with him, even though it was hard. That was Sunday, and he passed away on Tuesday. I never got that chance. It was probably 5 years before I told anybody about it, and became bitter not only because of my own ignorance, but because of my selfish notions at age 14 about death. Why did I have to lose him? (not even caring that my Dad lost his brother, or my grandparents lost their child) It was all about me. It took a long time to heal due to my teenage selfish thoughts. In nursing school we studied death and dying, and I learned alot and vowed that if I ever faced death again, I would be open and honest and not hold all those feelings and emotions inside. Little did I know I'd be faced with the death of my 2 cousins the very next year. Healing that time was much more smooth and healthy even though their deaths were unexpected and tragic.

I seem to be veering away from the topic, but that's where my thoughts have gone today. I am thankful for the time with my Uncle Cliff, and after he died, my Grandpa told me "you were his favorite niece". I took that as a great compliment, and later found out why. When my parents moved back to Alberta from the Northwest Territories, we moved in with Cliff until we found a place to live. I was about 18 months old, and he and I became best friends. He'd tease me and I'd laugh, I'd tease him back. It went like that my whole life and he always called me his "Wascally Wabbit" (Rascally Rabbit).

So there it is, all over a little tube of ChapStick Original that I found at Prospector's!

Sleep, Glorious Sleep

I've posted about sleep in the past with previous kids, and since I still remain baffled, I'm going to "vent" again. First of all, I have to say that baby #4 (Isaac) is overall a very *good* baby. I use that term loosely, because it doesn't mean that other babies are bad, per se, but that they just are harder to figure out and harder to please. He's overall predictable and keeps a pretty consistent routine.

Since I discovered babywearing 4 months into Elise's life, it became a world of difference in happy baby vs. fussy baby. My back felt way better, and my baby cried way less; so how can you complain when Mom and baby are both happy? She still didn't sleep better, but I could at least get something done while she fussed, or else she fussed less because Mom was holding her, even if she was tired. With Isaac, I started babywearing from the start. I used a wrap, then have been gradually working towards a maitei and Ergo as he's gotten older. He sleeps wonderfully in them, right next to Mom. If he starts to wake up, then I just jiggle him up and down and he drifts back off (usually 1 hour in the morning, 1-2 hours in the afternoon). This created a very happy baby, because he got proper naps. The problem is now starting where he's 4 months old and getting very heavy, even though the carriers are awesome. And...I'd like to get a break when he naps (to give my other kids some attention mostly, but also occasionally to lay down and rest). So, I've began trying to train him to sleep on his own, which is going well....umm...we'll see in time.

What I'm figuring is wrong is that he goes through one sleep cycle, slightly rouses, and then wakes up when he's not ready to get up yet. (after 20 min or so) Then 10 minutes later he starts fussing because he's still tired. But not tired enough to go back to sleep yet because of his previous "pikku nukkua" (my dad's Finn words for "little sleep"). When he's in the carrier, my jiggling him gets him through that stage back into deep sleep again. So, I'm trying to teach him to do that on his own, and am not sure how exactly that is done!

According to "The No-Cry Sleep Solution" by Elizabeth Pantley (which, by the way, is my best recommendation for sleep books) she says that is likely what is happening, and keeping them asleep is the key. She claims about 1 week of doing this every nap should do the trick. So, I have to sit by him as he sleeps and then when he starts to rouse, quickly get him back to sleep. Today I've done that, and he slept 1 1/2 hours the first time and is now sleeping going on 40 minutes (yay!) The trouble has been figuring out how to get him back to sleep, as he doesn't take a pacifier very well, and nursing him creates burps that wake him up in a few minutes too. Today I just jiggled him until he settled again (about 5 minutes) and that seemed to work.

So, I'm hoping we're on the right track. I think my main frustration is not knowing how long to try something before putting the kibosh on it and trying something new. Usually I just go around in circles and never get anywhere but then the baby gets bigger and the problem finally solves itself. But, that would mean another 8 months of this until he's 1, and I'd really like to not go there if I don't have to!

Anyhow, he's awake and he's pleasant, so I'll close.

BTW, the books I've read are:
-The No-Cry Sleep Solution by Elizabeth Pantley (recommend)
-Nighttime Parenting by Dr. Sears (recommend)
-The Happiest Baby on the Block by Dr. Harvey Karp (recommend)
-Sleeping Through the Night by Jodi Mindell (various cry it out methods, don't recommend)
-The Baby Whisperer by Tracy Hogg (can't remember it being helpful at all)
-On Becoming Babywise by Gary Ezzo (tried it, but couldn't make it work for us with #1 & #3 kid)

Kid sayings

I try to remember the cute stuff the kids say to write down, but it gets forgotten so quickly. Here's a few:

James was telling me how God sees us everywhere, in all that we do. He said, "Like when we're playing with Knapford Station, God says, "hey, there's James playing at Knapford Station."

At bedtime we were talking about how God made each of us special. I asked the kids to tell me what God had made special about each of them (thinking hair color, eye color). James says, "well, He gave me blood...and bones...and, oh yeah, meat!" (muscles)

Elise's Christmas medleys: "Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way; up above the world so high, like a diamond in the sky; and Jill came tumbling after."

"Dashing through the snow, in a one horse open sleigh; come on, let's go, Little Einstein's."

(this is from a few months ago when Grandma was here, but I still laugh about it) We were trying to think of something fun to do, so I suggested we go on a carousel ride. James immediately: "but what if we have to go to the bathroom and they won't stop it?"

Elise said "Christram" for Christmas all season. (Christram lights, Christram tree) She also called Joseph "Jofef and Mawy". Her other words that are her own pronunciation: wanting to eat a "yandwich" and go for a ride in"the Hentra" (the Sentra, our car)

Christmas Wishing

Two years ago, we happened to be in Target doing some Christmas shopping when we came across a guy dressed in a red coat (80's era polyester, I might add) with a hand crocheted Santa hat. He did have a long white beard, but just regular jeans and work boots on the bottom half. As we met in the aisle, he asked James (then 2 1/2) "have you been good?" James nodded in fear and astonishment and we kept on our way. Later that day at home when Daddy got home from work, the boys told him that they had seen Santa in Target and "he was buying our Christmas presents". From that day forth, that is the real Santa. We've seen hundreds of other Santa's around- in the mall, on advertising, in books and on movies, but somehow my kids know they're all just men dressed up like Santa. That guy in Target though, he was the real deal. Even today, 2 years later, James said, "Santa buys our toys at Target, remember when we saw him there." Luke adds, "because if he made them they'd be out of wood, but they are metal trains, so he must get them from Target."

I came in on them last night as they were talking in their room at bedtime. I asked them what the topic was, and they said, "we're just telling about what we want for Christmas." I asked if they'd share with me what they wanted. They thought of a few things, and then I said, "what if that isn't what you get?" ('cause you know Moms know this kind of thing) And Luke said, "well, we just might get it, you never know!" So this morning, they were making up these lists, to put in their stockings to give Santa some idea of what they want.

James'

0 (means start here)
Mavis the train
Hot Wheels
A Candy Cane
x (means stop here)





Luke's

I want
A toy gun
A candy cane
A hot wheels
A pop gun
I want
a shield & sword
(he drew them as he didn't know how to spell them)







I love their enthusiasm about Christmas. They are counting down the days, and feeling the presents that are already under the tree to try to figure out what's in them. James says, "I just know they are going to be fun!" My Aunt B gave us our presents when we saw her the other day, and when the boys discovered theirs and the conversation went something like this:
James: Mom, what does this spell?
Me: T-i-g-g-e-r? You know that one.
James: Tigger...this present says it's from Tigger.
Runs to his room and wakes up Luke who is still sleeping.
James: Luke, I got a present from Tigger. You know, the Tigger from 'Pooh'.
Luke: Huh, a present from who?
James: Yes, a present from Tigger. Can you believe he gave me a present?
Luke: No, I'll come and look.
They go look together confirm the findings and also find that Elise has one from Frosty the Snowman, and Luke has one from Buddy Squirrel. Hmm. How does that work out?

My Grandma Kurtti started that tradition when she wrapped gifts (and who knows, maybe her mom did it too) to her kids that they were always from random characters. My Mom and B carry on that tradition (and perhaps the other siblings too, I don't know), and every year there are all kinds of gifts from all kinds of characters under the tree. But there is always a gift from Buddy Squirrel, and no one ever has figured out who he is!

Christmas Letter 2011

Greetings this Christmas season;

Well, it looks like fall is winding down and winter is well on it's way. That's fine by me, although November and December tend to be rather windy in these parts, which makes going outside rather unpleasant. The loggers continue to log further up our hill, so there are log trucks passing by many times a day, which makes going for a walk not doable anyhow. I totally support sustainable logging, but when it interferes with my sleep or my walks, then I'm not so happy about it! They start going by at 3:30am some mornings and end at sundown. Talk about a full days work!!

Our biggest news is the birth of our baby Isaac William, on September 13. He was born at home (very quickly), so the midwife did not even make it in time. Greg ended up delivering him, and all worked out amazingly well. Isaac is doing really well. He is a very predictable baby, which gives me peace of mind, because I usually can find out why he's fussing and I also know what to do about it.

Luke is coming along with his homeschooling. He journals each day, works on spelling, phonics, reading, and math for lessons, and then reads history/geography/science books on his own for quiet time which he learns a wealth of information about different things. I like being able to see what his interests are and then find the answers for those subjects, rather than sticking to things he isn't interested in just because it's in the curriculum.

James is doing great these days too. He does a 'lesson' each day (coloring in a preschool learning book usually) and then helps me with chores while Luke finishes his schoolwork. He's a enthusiastic helper, but also gets distracted very easily and forgets what he's doing. He’s also full of funny sayings, so keeps us laughing most of the time. Yesterday he was asking why King Parrot killed all the babies during Baby Jesus' time. (Herod)

Elise is my best helper these days, but her intentions far outweigh her capabilities. She would love to wash all my dishes, but instead splashes water over the whole kitchen without getting any dishes clean.She loves to pester her brothers (and they love to return the favor!)

As for Greg and I, we're doing fine. Greg started a new job in February which has been a real blessing. It has less stress, more days off and is closer to home. We are very thankful for that. Before he started, we were able to take a trip to CA, AZ and NV with the family and enjoy some sunshine! Now we’re trying to get a few fall projects done (me- Christmas gifts for our annual Canadian cousins gathering, and he- cleaning gutters, filling muddy areas with gravel, hauling wood and *fun* stuff like that). He's also working on some Christmas gifts with his newest hobby of which I can't tell! Isaac sleeps fairly well at night, so we actually function well most of the time. Our family did get out clam digging a few weeks ago (at night) and that was pretty fun. I didn't dig, but just enjoyed watching the lanterns bob around on the beach. We hope to go again here soon.

Wishing you many blessings now as we celebrate the birth of our Savior, Jesus Christ!

Greg, Rachel and ours