I am tired. It is VBS week and between that and working afterwards and not going to bed on time (i.e. not till after midnight), I am tired. tired. tired.
Tired, but happy.
It is a quick post, but I have to write these down, lest I forget them. And this is the stuff I want to be able to look back on and remember.
1) Jeffrey is spending 5 glorious days with his grandparents and cousin. An RV tour of Florida. Bliss. I adore my in-loves for taking him. What a blessing.
2) Blake - (was a bit put out yesterday). At VBS, Brantley prayed to ask Jesus in his heart. (Blake has already professed to do this). So, much ado was made over Brantley and our joy and delight that he was following God. So, sweet Blake, asks me last night as I tuck him in, "why did Brantley get all the compliments today? I asked Jesus into my heart too." I tried to explain it - to which he tells me - "but, I am sure that I love God more than He loves me." And, God, I am sure that makes you grin and almost fall off your throne with a smile. It was precious.
3) Brantley - did pray to receive Christ. I was so excited and thrilled for him. He seemed quite pleased as well. At dinner we asked him why he did it. His honest answer? "because I thought I might get a goodie bag." When you are done falling off your chair, keep reading. At first, I was a bit dismayed - but the more I thought on it - don't we all come to God with some kind of expectation - a goodie bag, a ticket out of hell, a plea for help, a search for significance, truth, etc? So, we decided to roll with it and that the desire for a goodie bag was ok.
4) Andrew. We took the rocking chair out of his room. So, now we tend to sit on the floor and rub his back and sing, or crawl into his toddler bed with him to sing to him till he falls asleep. Last night, he was in bed (with about 15 stuffed dogs) and I went to sit on the bed. he wanted me to get in bed with him. With that, he sits up and announces, "scooch over DOGS! and starts to hurl them out of the way." priceless. I made my way into the toddler bed to sing till he fell asleep.
I'm afraid to blink. If I do, they are going to be grown and gone. So, for today, I am going to soak up the moments and ponder them in my heart.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Friday, June 12, 2009
Just say, NO
I did not win any parenting awards today.
A bunny has taken up with our home. Let me re-phrase. A bunny has tried to take up with our home. He dug a hole by Jeff's office window and we found him in the bushes a few days ago. He is a cute little bugger - grey, floppy ears, you get the gist. We assume he is a wild rabbit and drag the kids out front to see him. He hops into the other section of the bushes.
Next day, we give him lettuce. He finds us charming. Andrew falls in love. We have pictures of the bunny. He comes out and lets everyone pet him. He plays in the yard with Andrew (who says, awwwww, cute).
So today, I take Andrew to swim lessons. Half way through lessons, my cell rings. It is Jeffrey. The conversation goes like this:
"Hi, Mom, what ya doing - are you still at swim lessons?"
me - "yep, what's up?" (he doesn't call unless he wants/needs something.
him - "Oh, nothing - just wanted to let you know" (insert excited child voice here - "that we caught the bunny. His name is Fred. He's a boy - we checked - (like I need another boy) - and we put him in a laundry basket with water and leaves and put another basket over the top to make a cage - and he" - WAIT FOR IT - "is in the kitchen."
me - "no, put him out."
silence
me - "seriously, you caught the bunny? Is this a joke?"
him - "yeah (insert sad child voice here) umm, no, not a joke. We think he is tame. We think he has a home."
me - "good, let's find his home - but, babe, we aren't keeping him. Put him out."
him - "ok, later."
I did not hesitate. I did not blink. I did not waiver No wild bunny is going to live in my laundry basket.
So, I come home. Grey eared Fred is still in my house. I give Jeff (who was in his office) a look that says - "rabbit for dinner?" - and we escort bunny out. He has lived outside this long, Jeff points out to the kids, he'll be fine. We can give him water and lettuce out here.
We gather round and Jeffrey escorts Fred out of the basket. He hops into the bushes. He didn't even cry or look back.
I dump the leaves out of the laundry basket. Bunny Fred has peed all over the towel they had put in the bottom. I hold up the towel and make the pee announcement. Bunny is gone. The kids scurry inside. I'm left holding the pee towel to wash. And, this is why Fred will stay in the yard.
A bunny has taken up with our home. Let me re-phrase. A bunny has tried to take up with our home. He dug a hole by Jeff's office window and we found him in the bushes a few days ago. He is a cute little bugger - grey, floppy ears, you get the gist. We assume he is a wild rabbit and drag the kids out front to see him. He hops into the other section of the bushes.
Next day, we give him lettuce. He finds us charming. Andrew falls in love. We have pictures of the bunny. He comes out and lets everyone pet him. He plays in the yard with Andrew (who says, awwwww, cute).
So today, I take Andrew to swim lessons. Half way through lessons, my cell rings. It is Jeffrey. The conversation goes like this:
"Hi, Mom, what ya doing - are you still at swim lessons?"
me - "yep, what's up?" (he doesn't call unless he wants/needs something.
him - "Oh, nothing - just wanted to let you know" (insert excited child voice here - "that we caught the bunny. His name is Fred. He's a boy - we checked - (like I need another boy) - and we put him in a laundry basket with water and leaves and put another basket over the top to make a cage - and he" - WAIT FOR IT - "is in the kitchen."
me - "no, put him out."
silence
me - "seriously, you caught the bunny? Is this a joke?"
him - "yeah (insert sad child voice here) umm, no, not a joke. We think he is tame. We think he has a home."
me - "good, let's find his home - but, babe, we aren't keeping him. Put him out."
him - "ok, later."
I did not hesitate. I did not blink. I did not waiver No wild bunny is going to live in my laundry basket.
So, I come home. Grey eared Fred is still in my house. I give Jeff (who was in his office) a look that says - "rabbit for dinner?" - and we escort bunny out. He has lived outside this long, Jeff points out to the kids, he'll be fine. We can give him water and lettuce out here.
We gather round and Jeffrey escorts Fred out of the basket. He hops into the bushes. He didn't even cry or look back.
I dump the leaves out of the laundry basket. Bunny Fred has peed all over the towel they had put in the bottom. I hold up the towel and make the pee announcement. Bunny is gone. The kids scurry inside. I'm left holding the pee towel to wash. And, this is why Fred will stay in the yard.
Thursday, June 04, 2009
Love 'em & Leave 'em
So today was Andrew's last day of school. Being winner mom that I am, I volunteered to show up for the party. (that is a joke - I am a horrible classroom volunteer - I find that the my kids behave like monsters when I show up and are fine when I am not there). But, I digress. So, after my last-minute run to purchase gift cards for Andrew's teacher, aid and speech therapist, off to school I go.
School is a winner place - they all love Andrew there (what is not to love?), but I wasn't quite sure what to do with the morning. I can't sort it out in my head or heart.
Earlier this year his teacher tells me that (a) she is going to teach summer school and (b) she is going to be the EELP teacher next year. She tells me these two facts and we discuss the virtue of consistency and having the same teacher for my little man. How he won't have to adjust to a new summer school teacher and then a new teacher next year. How great it is for his education. How flawless. How wonderful.
So, earlier this month, the bomb gets dropped that she won't be doing summer school. Now, can't say that I blame her - who doesn't want a summer off - and, quite frankly, I think they all need a break - teachers and kids a like, so, ok, whatever. But, I also know that Sir Andrew does quite well with routine and order and keeping the same teacher and/or the same schedule is good for him. I had accepted his info and moved on somewhat.
So, today, I am standing there making small-talk, and I casually ask what room she is moving to since they had her pack up all the stuff from the EELP classroom. (EELP means early education learning program - basically pre-K for special needs kiddos). She then tells me that she will be in the same room - and the light goes on for me. "oh, so you aren't teaching EELP next year?" and the short summary answer is "no."
Me, being me, and knowing that her life is not about MY child (but my life has a LOT to do with MY child) try to say something kind about making the best choices for herself and teaching where she thinks she will be most effective. I can tell she is uncomfortable because she has already told me earlier that she wants to have Andrew next year, and now she is trying to climb out of that hole. I did try to make it easier for her by saying that sometimes it is good for the kids to get new blood in the classroom and to have a chance at a fresh start with a new teacher. She politely agrees even though I have my doubts that she really believes me. I have to admit, I felt a little betrayed and let down. I felt a little "loved and left", thus the love 'em and leave 'em title.
So, we are back to square one again - a new teacher and classroom next year. A new teacher for summer school. I'm not sure that I think about it all. I know God knows what is best for my little man, but I have that mommy fear of change. While we had a few issues this year, over-all, it was a great year. He learned a lot. He was happy. What more could I ask for?
But, over the last 10 years of parenting I have learned that teachers come and teachers go. Therapists come and therapists go. They each have played a pivotal role that I don't want to diminish, but, at the end of the day, he comes home with me. That is a constant. Not the teacher. Not the school. My faith and hope cannot be in the school, the teacher or the therapist. God alone can have that place. The rest are just details that He has to work out. So, if you think of us, or think of Andrew, pray for his summer, his potty training, and the placement of his teacher next year.
As we got ready to go, Andrew had to pass out the hugs. He loved on his teacher and she promptly burst into tears because he was leaving. And me? I'm still not sure what I think or feel. Part of me is sad, maybe even angry (disappointed, hmm) that I was told one thing and now have to adjust to someone new. Part of me doesn't want change. Andrew did well and even though it wasn't perfect, it still worked. I don't want to mess with that. I'm sad because I know he was loved and safe, and now I have to start that screening process all over again. But then part of me does see the potential for fresh expectations. New energy. New chances.
I'm swinging back and forth. I was hoping that blogging about it would bring me to a clearer spot, but, hmmm, nont so much. So, I'm taking my bundle of un-sorted emotions and going to bed. It always feels darkest before the dawn.
School is a winner place - they all love Andrew there (what is not to love?), but I wasn't quite sure what to do with the morning. I can't sort it out in my head or heart.
Earlier this year his teacher tells me that (a) she is going to teach summer school and (b) she is going to be the EELP teacher next year. She tells me these two facts and we discuss the virtue of consistency and having the same teacher for my little man. How he won't have to adjust to a new summer school teacher and then a new teacher next year. How great it is for his education. How flawless. How wonderful.
So, earlier this month, the bomb gets dropped that she won't be doing summer school. Now, can't say that I blame her - who doesn't want a summer off - and, quite frankly, I think they all need a break - teachers and kids a like, so, ok, whatever. But, I also know that Sir Andrew does quite well with routine and order and keeping the same teacher and/or the same schedule is good for him. I had accepted his info and moved on somewhat.
So, today, I am standing there making small-talk, and I casually ask what room she is moving to since they had her pack up all the stuff from the EELP classroom. (EELP means early education learning program - basically pre-K for special needs kiddos). She then tells me that she will be in the same room - and the light goes on for me. "oh, so you aren't teaching EELP next year?" and the short summary answer is "no."
Me, being me, and knowing that her life is not about MY child (but my life has a LOT to do with MY child) try to say something kind about making the best choices for herself and teaching where she thinks she will be most effective. I can tell she is uncomfortable because she has already told me earlier that she wants to have Andrew next year, and now she is trying to climb out of that hole. I did try to make it easier for her by saying that sometimes it is good for the kids to get new blood in the classroom and to have a chance at a fresh start with a new teacher. She politely agrees even though I have my doubts that she really believes me. I have to admit, I felt a little betrayed and let down. I felt a little "loved and left", thus the love 'em and leave 'em title.
So, we are back to square one again - a new teacher and classroom next year. A new teacher for summer school. I'm not sure that I think about it all. I know God knows what is best for my little man, but I have that mommy fear of change. While we had a few issues this year, over-all, it was a great year. He learned a lot. He was happy. What more could I ask for?
But, over the last 10 years of parenting I have learned that teachers come and teachers go. Therapists come and therapists go. They each have played a pivotal role that I don't want to diminish, but, at the end of the day, he comes home with me. That is a constant. Not the teacher. Not the school. My faith and hope cannot be in the school, the teacher or the therapist. God alone can have that place. The rest are just details that He has to work out. So, if you think of us, or think of Andrew, pray for his summer, his potty training, and the placement of his teacher next year.
As we got ready to go, Andrew had to pass out the hugs. He loved on his teacher and she promptly burst into tears because he was leaving. And me? I'm still not sure what I think or feel. Part of me is sad, maybe even angry (disappointed, hmm) that I was told one thing and now have to adjust to someone new. Part of me doesn't want change. Andrew did well and even though it wasn't perfect, it still worked. I don't want to mess with that. I'm sad because I know he was loved and safe, and now I have to start that screening process all over again. But then part of me does see the potential for fresh expectations. New energy. New chances.
I'm swinging back and forth. I was hoping that blogging about it would bring me to a clearer spot, but, hmmm, nont so much. So, I'm taking my bundle of un-sorted emotions and going to bed. It always feels darkest before the dawn.
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