Baby Turns 5

And then there's this guy.

Who turns 5 today.

I mean, have you ever?

In all of my life I have never fallen so hard and so fast for a boy.

But this boy is special.  Because he's my last.

That's how he feels that he's the last.  I know, Baby.  I know.  

I'm older and wiser.  My crows feet have sunk in and I have to color my hair every 6 weeks rather than every 3 months to cover the gray.  My abs refuse to be beat into submission and my career wardrobe is comprised of yoga pants and overly large t-shirts.  I am no longer the new mom with toddlers.  The one with the hip diaper bag or the stroller that converts into a wet bar.  I am the 'experienced' mom.  The one that continues to screw up all the time, I just have learned how to fake it better.

But no amount of experience could prepare me for the punch in the gut love I have for this child.  This Yahoo of mine.

I love the way he talks.  How he says the 'b' sound for his 'j', how he belts out 'Jesus Creep'  when we're cranking DC Talk.  I love his kisses and hugs, because they are few and far between from this rough around the edges punk.  I love his green eyes and crooked teeth.  I love kissing the scar on his chin from the stitches he endured.  Wounds received too early in life.  I love being the one to wipe away the tears and remove the splinters and brush the oatmeal out of his hair.  I love being the one to rub his back when his belly hurts.  Or the one he runs to when his heart hurts.  I love that no matter how many friends he makes and how many girls he dates, no one else gets to be his mother. I love that he weighs next to nothing.  That way I can pretend he isn't growing up so fast.

But he is growing up.  Five.  Such a milestone.  Learning to read, his first hunting trip with his daddy, learning to swim on his own.

I've held you so long, Baby.  And now you get to do things on your own.  As you pull away from the edge of the pool to tackle the deep end, I will be waiting there for you, cheering you on.  When you traverse the woods with BB gun in hand I will wait in anticipation to see the big kill you bring home.  And I will sit with you all day long as you master those complicated phonics sounds.

I will be right here.  Cheering, applauding, coaching, praying.

But on those other days.  When the waves seem too large or the words just won't come.  When you have nothing to show from your hard days work....I'll still be right here.  Cheering, applauding, coaching, praying.

Because you, Baby Yahoo, are the apple of my eye.  And I won't quit you.  Not ever.

So Happy 5th Birthday, Baby.  I pray for you that you meet the Lord all throughout this year.  As we read Bible stories together, as you explore His creation, as you hear the crickets on the cool summer nights.  I pray He meets you everywhere this exciting year takes you.

The Parable of the Lost Resource CD

So summer is winding down.

Did you hear that?  It was the collective groans from the teachers around the globe.

Including home school teachers.

But this also ushers in my favorite time of year:  lesson planning.

Lesson planning is my guilty pleasure.  I love looking for great resources and laying out what we'll cover and books we'll read and math problems we'll solve.  I love putting it down on paper.  I love working the jigsaw puzzle that will be our schedule for the year.  Trying to determine how to fit in class work, chores, sports, music, church, family, friends into a 24 hour day.  And then after weeks of planning and rearranging and planning again, I print out the final copy...my magnum opus of plans.... and feeling very accomplished exhale a 'it is finished'.

But not this year.  This year things went funky.

It started off well.  Pondering and praying over the year ahead.  Reading and researching the best resources.  Browsing and bargain shopping to find the best deals.  And a few weeks ago I got all my stuff in the mail.  It was time.  Time to lay it all out before me.  Like a tiny baby island surrounded by the massive sea, I would surround myself with these books and workbooks and abacuses (abaci???  Whatever).  Time to flip through the pages and play with the manipulatives and make copies. And for this school nerd, it leaves me feeling a little buzzed.

But not this year.  Because this year as I was bobbing out there in my sea of curriculum something was missing.   My resource CD.  My Classical Conversations resource CD, people.  A new, still shrink wrapped set of 3 CD's that contains all my print outs for the year!!!  I had bought it a few weeks prior.  It had been laying by my computer....or was it on the table in the hallway....or in the basement?   No matter, it had been here.  And now it wasn't.  Not cool.

So I looked around.  On my book shelves, under couch cushions, in laundry baskets, in the pantry.  No luck.  But I did find some chocolate chips. Score.  With no avail, I attempted to go in with reinforcements.  My recruitment strategy:  sighing a lot and continually walking in front of the TV so The Yahoos might decide to help me look.  No luck.  So I told them I would pay a dollar to the person who found it.  All I got were eye rolls.  I forget they aren't 3 anymore.  I tried to get The Honey to care but that wasn't really getting anywhere with him until I told him it cost $30.  He moves pretty fast when dollar signs are involved.  But even with him....nothing.

So I thought I'd please Jesus and pray about it.

And boy did I.  With eyes closed and head bowed and hands grasped tight I began pleading that he would rescue my CD from the terrible abyss it had apparently fallen into.  With each request that He bring it home quickly and with repeated acknowledgment that He was the only one who knew where it was, my passion within grew.  I was being such a good little Christian.  Jesus must be so happy.

But not really.  Because no sooner had I uttered those words did I feel Him....no lie, almost literally feel Him... stoop down in front of me and gently touch those grasped hands and say "We'll get to that CD in a minute.   But can I ask you, why don't you pray for lost souls the way you are begging for this lost CD?"

And there it was.

When the Lord meets you you can't help but see Him for who He is and you for who you are.  I no longer was a tiny island surrounded by my trinkets of distractions, but a lone sinner drifting in a sea of my sin.  He was right.  I couldn't remember the last time I had pleaded that sincerely and earnestly for those that don't know Him.  Listen to me....even my own children.  What is wrong with  me?

Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.

Matthew 6:19-21

His voice, that simple question, it haunted me all day.  Never condemning, only convicting.  Grace that brought me to the throne of God.  And confession is so good for this soul.  In love, God awakened me to my Pharisee heart.  Like a shepherd uses the crook of his staff to turn his sheep back towards him, My Good Shepherd used a lost CD to meet me face to face.

I still haven't found that CD.  And I honestly hope I never do.  Because it is my Ebenezer.   My reminder to stop getting distracted by the things in this world and to start getting serious about the people in it.

Suppose a woman has ten silver coins, but she loses one of them. She will take a light and clean the house. She will look carefully for the coin until she finds it.  And when she finds it, she will call her friends and neighbors and say to them, ‘Be happy with me because I have found the coin that I lost!’  In the same way, it’s a happy time for the angels of God when one sinner decides to change.”

Luke 15:8-10

Rehab

Red Sox game.  Do we scream 'freedom'?

A few weeks ago The Honey and I got a chance to go to Boston.

Business for him, vacation for me.

We did manage to travel up a day early so we could have some time to sight see before he got busy with meetings and other top secret CIA missions.

Boston is a great city.  Lots of history, the beautiful harbor front, plenty of sports.

We took in a Red Sox game, strolled through Boston Common and along the Harbor.  We went to Harvard's campus and wondered what it would be like to be smart.

OK....I wondered what it would be like to be smart.

But most importantly we ate.  Boston has so much great food.  I am for this.  Any city that has great food is worthy of my vacation time.


And for your enjoyment.....Fenway Park singing Sweet Caroline.  The video is not great quality, mainly because of the half lit people around us.  But they sound so good, don't ya think?  We had to video it for our  Sweet Yahoo.  Which she loved.  Bless.

And I will go ahead and answer the number one question I get when we go away...
           
                                                   Are you taking the children?


Deep sigh.

What kind of vacation would it be, people, if I took the children with me?

No.  No I didn't take the children.  Hallelujah and Amen.

And it was..... fabulous.

 There, I said it.  Yes!  I enjoy being away from my kids from time to time.  And do you know what?  They enjoy being away from me.  Because they have these grandparents that have cable and poptarts and actually listen to them when they talk.  It's a win win for all of us.

But here's the thing.  After a week of pigging out on Cheetos and A.N.T. Farm, The Yahoos needed some rehab.

And for those of you reading that have little people and might be wondering if your own child needs rehab, here are some signs and symptoms of overly intoxicated children:

1.  If your child gives you a blank, blinking stare when you tell them to go do their chores, as if you are speaking another language or they have mysteriously turned into a pigeon.

2.  If the words 'whatever' or 'as if' or 'like' make up more than 77% of their lexicon.

3.  Noticeable tremors and twitching when you tell them you have no more Poptarts.

Rehab.  One week.  No TV, no iPad, no computer.

As far as the sugar goes....well....we didn't want to go too crazy.  They are children.  We chose to limit desserts to once a day.

And here's the deal.  I don't think they missed it that much.  There were a few hours of boredom, but eventually they got desperate enough to go find something to do.  Or, if they didn't and kept complaining I did find things for them to do.  Like weed the garden or rub my feet.

I wish I could tell you electronic rehab created world peace or fixed Kim Kardashian's plastic surgery addiction.  It did not.  But it was definitely quieter.  We had more conversations.  Thought provoking conversations.  Not conversations about how we can schedule our day around the Good Luck, Charlie marathon.

I tell you all this to say....Don't be afraid of The Rehab!  Tearing yourself away from Disney and even Food Network (gasp) probably won't kill you.  In fact, you might even feel like you are a little more alive.