KEEP BELIEVING: Bad Day

I don't know how I ever actually came about reading blogs, but since I've started, they have changed my life. I have always loved reading, but have come to prefer the words of real people telling real stories about the things going on in their lives. I have several bookmarked and visit them daily. Some are funny and uplifting and lighthearted. Some are written by moms like myself, and I can relate to their words. Some are inspirational stories of people overcoming or living with adverse situations. Some have given me cause to question and strengthen my relationship with God. The blog I have linked to below is one of them, and I can't get this family out of my head. It is written by a mom and wife, about my age, going through a season in her life that I can't even begin to imagine. Her husband is nearing the end of a 12 year battle with cancer, and her words and story have rocked me to my core. If you find the time, please visit Angie's blog, read some of their story, and do what you can to help lift this family up in prayer.

KEEP BELIEVING: Bad Day

In with the new!

Today is a historic day in our nation's history. Although, truth be told, I'm a bit over-loaded with that information. If the 2 year plus election, or historic win wasn't enough, these two months of president-elect business has been enough to hold me over until the next election. Which will probably begin next week, right?

The nation is filled with hope, despite the overwhelming tasks we face to rebuild our economy, work on the deficit, increase job opportunities, fix the educational system, find a solution to our country's involvement in the middle east, further heal the economic and social divide in our country, regain credibility as a nation on the world's stage, find alternatives to our nation's energy dependence, fix the ailing health care and Social Security crises, and on and on and on. It's a tall order, and the nation is waiting for answers from our new administration. Some fear that too much is going to be expected too soon ... or that we're waiting with false hope for one man to change what is wrong with our nation.

Today Barack Obama will be sworn in as the 44th President of the United States, and is the first multi-racial person to hold that distinction. It IS historic, it IS remarkable that I am living to see what will hopefully be the beginning of the end of our country's long history of racism and divisiveness. Perhaps most exciting to me is the fact that my young children are witnessing the ushering in of a new Commander-In-Chief. In the years to come, they will probably not remember the specifics of this time in history, but one thing is certain to make a lasting impression. The textbooks that they will read and study in school in the years to come will be written in an entirely different way than the ones I grew up reading. Instead of feeling regret and sorrow over their country's past, and not having much hope for real change in the future, their textbooks will emphasize the change brought about in our nation during their parents' and grandparents' lifetimes. A progression towards an entirely different way of life in a country that has always touted it's grand opportunities. For the first time, those opportunities seem real ... the possibilities that we preach to our children, the promise that they can grow up to be anything they want to be, will look just a little bit more credible after today.

For now, my children are consumed with the basic information they have been taught about our next president. He is the first black man to be president. His wife is Michelle, and he has two daughters. They are getting a puppy. There's a bowling alley in the White House. And, perhaps most importantly, Obama rhymes with llama. I look forward to teaching them many more wonderful things in the next 4-8 years!

Nice one, daddy!

Today I overheard Kara use an ugly phrase while she was playing in the playroom. It involved taking the name of the Lord in vain, combined with the more dastardly version of the word "darn it".

I was in the adjacent kitchen, and quickly stepped into the room to correct her errant ways. As soon as I walked into the room and said, "Kara ..." she quickly scampered behind the couch. No need to question whether or not she knew that it was a bad word! Her scampering off told me that she knew very well.

I forged on. "Kara, what did I just hear you say? That was NOT a nice word. We don't talk like that, and I don't ever want to hear you say such a nasty thing again."

Kara's response?

"Well, that's what daddy said to me when I wet my bed!"

Fighting back and inappropriate snicker, I turned away from Kara and started walking towards daddy's office saying, "well let's go talk to daddy about that right now". You know, because obviously I couldn't talk to her about it with that grin on my face.

We entered daddy's office, but he didn't turn around from his computer screen. He just said that he'd "be out in a minute to talk to us". It was then that I noticed the up and down movement of his shoulders, and the barely audible sound of laughter. Great. Apparently he had heard the whole thing, and neither of us was up to the challenge of being an adult at the moment.

We dropped the ball. For the rest of the night, all I could think of was that we dropped the ball. Kara said a bad word, and we didn't follow through with an appropriate, parent-like response.

Late the next night, as I took Kara to the bathroom for one of her middle-of-the-night trips, she smiled at me from her perch on the toilet seat. Pajamas around her ankles, hair all tousled about, drool dried at the corners of her lips. She looked up at me and said, "Mama, I'll never say God-d@*&%# again. I promise."

Well, what do you know? Lesson learned. Cross that. . . lesson self-taught, by a 3 year old.

You Be the Judge

We have a new family member named Hannah.

Jenna has "wanted" Hannah Montana stuff since she was about 3. At that point in time, I refused. Told her no. Said that I was the boss, and she was too young for HM. I felt, at the time, that I was only protecting her from the inevitable. You know, the downward spiral that all pre-teen pop-star sensations go through. Eventually.

When she was 4, I told her it was okay to watch her music videos and concerts on tv, but she was certainly not getting Hannah Montana "stuff".

When she turned 5, and started to read, I printed off a copy of the lyrics to "Best of Both Worlds" so that Jenna could learn the words (and sing them to the family when she gives her free nightly concerts on our fireplace hearth/stage). I think that was when I also "allowed" a HM nightgown and t-shirt to enter her wardrobe, and possibly a poster on her bedroom wall.

I was able to hold off the inevitable until now. The inevitable being the onslaught of "character-inspired" paraphanalia that has slipped through the cracks and entered our home. As of December 25th, we now have a Hannah Montana guitar, microphone, headset, wig, doll, dance mat, DVD ...... the list goes on and on.

All of this leaves me disturbed, but not quite as disturbed as I am about another phenomenon going on in our house. Sure, I expected Kara to jump on the Hannah Montana bandwagon as soon as her concert gear entered the house.

I only find it mildly disconcerting when I hear her belt out the lyrics, "...then you rock out the show!"

But what I didn't expect, and what I can't seem to make peace with, is this:

Knock-Knock!

Once Jack started talking, he quickly got the hang of it. Single word utterances turned into two word combinations practically overnight. Then he was off and running with 3-4 word sentences. All of this took place within a month's time, mind you. My child is a prodigy.

He has even tried his hand at singing, and believe you me, nothing in the world is more darling than my little boy singing "Frosty the Snowman". Even if the only words he knows are those included in the title. His latest work involves his own rendition of "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star". So far he has "twinkle", "star" and "up high" ... still working on stringing them all together.

At bedtime when we say our prayer ("Now I lay me down to sleep ...") you can pause and he will fill in the correct words. If that doesn't speak volumes about his holiness, maybe the fact that he shouted out a loud "Amen!" during mass on Sunday will convince you.

During play time, he can often be overheard talking on the phone. Of course it's a pretend phone call on a pretend phone, but if you didn't know otherwise, you'd be hard pressed to tell the difference. He has the one-sided telephone conversation down!

"Hello?"
"Oh, hi!"
"What doin'?"
"Nothing"
"How you?"
"Oh, good"
"Yeah"
"Okay"
"Bye"

Every day we're more and more amused with Jack's linguistic antics. To the point that, I'm ashamed to admit, we've resorted to calling a relative from time to time, just to let Jack talk to them on the phone. Yep, we're those parents. The ones who think their kid is so darned cute that other people want to talk to them on the phone. Look out ... next we'll be letting him record our telephone answering machine message. Okay, not really.

Finally, I leave you with Jack's latest vocal wonder: the knock-knock joke. Today he came up to me and said, "Knock-knock!" Amused, I retorted with, "who's there?"
"Orange"
"Orange who?"
"Orange toilet" (followed by a big smile and squeals of laughter)

It wasn't the first time that a joke went over my head, and I'm sure it won't be the last.

Bowling Beauties

Today we had a family outing to the local bowling alley. Since we were bowling with children, we requested that bumpers be put up in our lane. That benefitted my game greatly, as well as Mark's (although he'll deny it if you ask him). We had a lot of fun, and managed to squeeze in 2 full games during our allotted 2 hour time slot. That's quite an accomplishment, given that 50% of the balls rolled down the alley were moving slowly enough to make you wonder if they were ever going to make it to the pins without coming to a complete stop.
Ironically, even with the bumpers, I wasn't able to beat Kara in either game. Seriously. What 3 year-old can score a 117? The better question might be, what adult can't manage to break 100 with bumpers?! Even more ironic is the fact that I actually took bowling as a class in college. Hey, don't judge ... I needed the physical education hours. And the GPA boost. Thanks mom and dad!

The girls and I went bowling once last summer, but this was Jack's first experience with the whole scene. He tired himself (and mommy and daddy) by climbing up and down the steps, sticking his fingers in the ball return (just asking for a finger pinching), pushing buttons on the scoring system, begging for drinks from the drinking fountain, getting in every bowler's way (on our lane and the two adjacent to us) and attempting to pull bowling balls down from the shelves (just asking for a broken toe).

He was quiet for a moment, however, when he noticed the cool breeze he could get by putting his face up against the fan at the end of the ball return.

By the end of the two hours, my back hurt, my patience was lost, and I was wondering why it is that we even attempt to go on these "family outings". Then I remembered. To tire 'em out and get them good and ready for naptime!

Mission accomplished!