thoughts on the Resurrection

I woke up today, excited. Today is EASTER. It is the best day of the year. I felt a big sense of accomplishment and relief. The anticipation of this day has been building, and here it is.

These have been my feelings for the past couple of years at Easter. It has gradually become a realization that today, Resurrection Sunday, is by far the biggest reason to celebrate--my only reason for joy. I know, Christmas is big--I mean, it's Jesus's birthday and all. But today--TODAY--we celebrate that He yet LIVES!

You know that feeling you get after a big exam that you've studied for and anticipated? That feeling that you are FREE? That's how I felt today. Jesus's life built up to THIS day. His 3 1/2 years of ministry was for THIS.

He worked hard. He did not rest. He taught deep spiritual Truths. He loved the unloveable. He toiled, and He sweated. He shifted the paradigm. He was hated. He was spat upon. He was mocked, tortured, beaten, stabbed, and rioted against. He was HATED. He was killed. He was forsaken. He was innocent.

But three days later--TODAY [as we celebrate it]--today, he lives. Today His tomb was empty. Today darkness and sin and evil and death were defeated once and for all. ONCE AND FOR ALL.

This was the end that began the HOPE that lives because of Christ. Because Christ Himself LIVES.

"Praise God, from Whom all blessings flow.
Praise Him, all creatures here below.
Praise Him above, ye heavenly host.
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Amen."

carly kaboom

I couldn't NOT record this conversation with my {ahem} stinker of a 2-year-old, Carly...

Backstory: Historically, we have never allowed the children to take things with them into their class at church--no toys, no blankies, no lovies--nothing. And they have really handled that just fine. Neither of the girls have ever been attached to any particular thing, so I that certainly helps. However, a few weeks ago, Carly's teacher hunted me down and asked for Carly's "ducky," the one she was begging for over and over and saying was in her mommy's bag. So I relented. "After all," her teacher (who happens to be a dear friend of mine) reasoned, "a lot of the kids bring their lovies in, and she was seeing them all with their things..." Her teachers told me that she never set Ducky down even once, and, sure enough, he was wholly intact and in her grip when I picked her up. Since then (it's been a few weeks), I have allowed her to take something with her every Sunday, provided that her something is a small something.

So this morning, as we were all getting ourselves ready for church, she was on the hunt. "I'm looking for something wittle," she said. She decided on several options, but her favorite choice was a [large] pink doggy/lovey blanket. Half-engaged in her decision-making process, and half-focused on my own preparations, I reminded her that she needed something little. I believe I remarked several times, "No, honey, he's not little," as she repeatedly requested to take the dog.

Continuing in my own tasks, I didn't pay much attention to her. I was only half-listening [again] a few minutes later, when she said about her dog, "Mommy, I want to name him 'Little.'"

"Oh, good, honey. That's a good name for a dog," I mumbled.

"Mommy?" she said.

"Yes Carly?"

"I wanna take him to chuuurch."

"No honey," I sighed, "remember, he's not lii..." :|

She got me. She got me good. She just looked at me and blinked those big blue eyes, as if to say, "Was there something you wanted to say, Mommy?" I grinned to myself but tried not to let her see, and I ignored the conversation. That stinker knew what I was saying, and I need not say it again.

Is it foolish for me to hope she won't get any more clever than this?

Valentine's day

I haven't seen fit to post on here since November--until today. Apparently, I have strong feelings about this day.

Valentine's Day. I know there are significant lessons to be learned if we take the time to look at the history of this day, and of St. Valentine, etc etc etc, blahblahblah. But really, I think this day in our culture is just fun. FOR THE KIDS. I love Valentine's Day because we encourage our children to show a little love and appreciation for their peers by giving them a VERY small gift. We ask them to think about their friends and what will delight their friends. And I love that.

Rachel is finally to the age where Valentine's Day is fun. She's in preschool, with eight classmates. I had so much fun helping her make customized, homemade valentines for each of her little friends. We bought little buttons instead of candy, and Rachel thought through each child, and which button each child would like best, and then she used colors she thought that child would like to decorate his/her valentine. Very special.

And I love hearts, and the idea that pink and red and white MATCH for a day. I had a lot of fun making some little Valentine-inspired clothes for the girlies, and just generally anticipated this day for the pure fun of it.

ON THE OTHER HAND, Jarrad and I celebrated Valentine's Day only once in our own 12-year history, and it was when we had been dating a mere four months. It was fun, but we swore it off the following year, and every year since (after all, we reason, there are PLENTY of other gift-giving opportunities in the year without adding this one). Don't get me wrong--I appreciate romance. Just give me romance on some day when Hallmark is least suggesting it. But I do enjoy half-price chocolate day, which falls on February 15th! I'll take a day-old Valentine's box o' chocolates anytime!

2 years. 2 months.

It has been awhile, oh Blog o' mine. Many moments since July 31 have warranted a post--some marker to later remind myself of these days, but I just haven't done it.

But today is special (not that every other day isn't). Today is my middle child's 2nd birthday. She's beautiful. She has crystal blue eyes and hair that is growing these sweet little baby curls in the back. Some days I want to just freeze time. She's affectionate and snuggly, and very very opinionated. Over the last couple of weeks, she has most certainly reinforced the "Terrible Two's" reputation--temper tantrums that can only be left alone, a ready "NO" regardless of the question, and a general contrary spirit that is immensely frustrating to all of us. But she's so cute.

The girl talks. A LOT. She's anxious to communicate, and you can almost hear how hard she works to put words together into the complex sentences she's surprisingly able to construct. "Mommy...I want...go...Rachel's room...Rachel...say...noooooo," in her tiny little voice, with her most serious expression, wagging her finger and nodding her head all the way. It's cute. She repeats Rachel without letting her even complete her own sentences sometimes (Rachel says, "Carly! Don't coffee me!").

We tried to move her to Rachel's room a few nights ago. It didn't go well. At all. We even pushed the beds together so it would be like she's sleeping WITH her sister, but to no avail. I was anxious, because we need the nursery for my growing fat baby boy, but we will just have to figure out something else for now.

AND speaking of my fat baby, I never have posted about him! Yesterday was his 2-month birthday! I can't believe he's that old, but at the same time, I can't believe he's that young! The kid was 9 lbs 5 oz at birth, and he has not slowed down at all. He's so much bigger than the girls were at this age that I forget how young he really is (I find myself picking him up like he's a 4-month-old and then remembering that he's not quite so steady yet). He's a cute one, too. I think he looks a lot like Carly did, but I can see Rachel in him often, too. It will be fun to watch him grow and to see who he resembles most. Of course, like the other two, it seems he will have blue eyes like their father. But I'm in love with those blue eyes, so I consider it a good thing.

Labor and delivery were not so different this time. I thought he would come a little faster, but he didn't (of course), and, as providence would have it, he was born in the 8:00pm hour, just like my other two. Weird. He was 9 days late--9 extra days of a pregnancy that could not have been slower.

I struggled emotionally after Carly was born. For the entire first year I struggled. But I feel great this time. I can attribute that to many things. For one, I am in a better place spiritually than I have ever been. When Carly was born, I was at a low. I struggled with bitterness and resentment toward my husband, and it took that year for the Lord to reveal truths to me that ultimately humbled me and allowed me to experience real love--from God and from my husband. Secondly, my little fat baby is SUCH A GOOD SLEEPER. I think getting adequate (or anywhere close to adequate) sleep makes a really really big difference in my (anyone's?) psychological health. Carly nursed all night long (almost) for her entire first year (almost). Once I put her down at night, I never knew when or how often she'd be up again. But James (did I say we named him James?) has been a sleeper from the beginning, and already he has a lovely routine of taking a good, hard, solid 3-hour nap every single afternoon, and going to bed (sleeping HARD) sometime during the 7:00pm hour, not waking again until 2:00am at the earliest. Even if he wakes up for some reason, he has no interest in nursing, so I'm totally off the hook. Neither of my girls have been this way. Rachel was a great night sleeper, but not daytime. Carly slept just okay during the day, and terrible at night. James...I prayed for you, dear sir--that you would just SLEEP. Praise the Lord!

And finally, I think the biggest reason I feel great is because I felt so HORRIBLE during this last pregnancy! Almost from the day I found out I was pregnant, I felt awful. I didn't have morning sickness, thankfully (and I know some of you probably stopped reading right there because of how unfair that is), but this boy killed my back. I had sciatic nerve pain the whole time (to the point that walking reduced me to tears at times), and by the end, I thought my pelvis would shatter and my hips would be permanently dislocated. I felt completely debilitated to do the simplest chores around the house. I didn't cook dinner. I never cleaned. It's a wonder my family survived. Of course, my husband was the hero--I think he barely survived.

I cannot capture all of the joyous details I've skipped over the last 3 months, but I can definitely say that, while I am a tired mommy, I am blissfully tired. This has always been my dream--to be a mommy. I work hard. I have learned to be more organized and more productive. I feel accomplished to accomplish what would seem so simple, were I not juggling three little kids along the way.

And while my kids make me crazy most of the time, I try to realize how quickly time passes, and how I will long to return here, if only for a day, when my kids are grown, and I try to cherish the everyday moments and freeze them, if only in my mind's eye.

countdown

Well, it's official: I've been pregnant for a really long time. This pregnancy has seemed to last forever. I wanted to get my thoughts out about all of it before Baby Boy gets here, lest I forget (isn't it weird how soon we forget?...definitely a God thing--why else would I ever do this again??).

Almost since Day One of this pregnancy, I've had terrible back pain. Baby has bothered my sciatic nerve the entire time, and I have required a lot of help from friends and family (some times more than others, and completely unpredictable from one day to the next). My sweet husband has been more than willing to help around the house, and I'm so grateful to have several family members (including grandparents!) closeby and available, too. All-in-all, it has been a humbling nine months for me.

My sweet girls have grown up during this time, too. It is incredible to watch the rapid change that happens in a kid between her first birthday and her second. Carly will be two at the beginning of November, and, as much as she delights my heart, she is definitely coming into her own. Her big sister is an incredibly intense, persistent, and perceptive child, but Carly has made it clear that she is able to--and will certainly grow into her ability to--match wits with Rachel. I often hear friends remark on how different their children are from each other, but I am here to tell you that I have a set of identicals on my hands. There are differences, of course, and I think Carly would be a bit calmer than Rachel if she weren't trying to keep up with her sissy. Carly is much snugglier than Rachel ever has been. Rachel is very physical, but not snuggly. And Carly is a Mama's Girl, whereas Rachel has always always been a Daddy's girl--a few nights ago, at bedtime, she said to me, "it's just...it's just...it's just that I love Daddy just a little bit more than you" (and besides that, she looks and expresses herself JUST LIKE HIM). As much as they have grown to be so similar, Carly at least resembled me a bit more in the beginning. But, as with her little personality, her little face has morphed into one that very strongly resembles that of her big sister, and there is no longer any question that the two are closely related.

Rachel was a late talker, but once she got started, she has not stopped talking. She asks questions incessantly, and seems to feel the need to know every detail of every goings-on around her. With her non-stop talking, Carly speech and language have been incredibly accelerated (at least compared to Rachel's). At 20 months, she is readily putting words together into complete thoughts and having full conversations with us (albeit, simplistic and repetitive ones).

And one of my favorite things right now is listening to Rachel and Carly converse. The two are definitely getting to a fun stage where they entertain each other, and I get to listen to cackles and squeals from the two of them as they play (along with regular intervals of fusses and whines). But Rachel enjoys banter, so she is always prodding Carly with ridiculous conversation. Here's an example...

• Rachel: Mommy, I'm hungry. Can I have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?
• Mommy: Yes, it's lunch time, we can do that.
• Carly: Mommy, I hungy! Peanut butter!!!
• Rachel: Carly, I'm hungry too, can I be hungry too?
• Carly: NOOOOO!
• Rachel: Carly, can I have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich too?
• Carly: NOOOO! NO! NO! Mommy, peanut butter!
• Rachel: Carly, I want one, Mommy can I have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, Mommy?
• Mommy: Yes, Honey, I've already said you can.
• Rachel (whiny voice): Carly says I can't.
• Mommy: (sigh)

It's funny to recount, but, as it happens many times a day, it can become rather wearing.

Rachel turned four in June, and she's grown in many ways. I had been holding out for four, hoping she would settle down some (as promised by some friends with spirited children). Her birthday came and went without much change. Just as we were rounding the corner to July, though, it happened. I still would describe her as "spirited," but she seems significantly more malleable now. She is more willing to hear us out and to concede to our authority over her. She is easier to discipline (I was at my wits end with disciplining her because she did not respond well to anything we tried--it was all like a game to her) and [usually] seems genuinely humbled when she makes a bad choice that leads to action from us. She is also displaying more discernment, which is a relief, and I don't feel the need to keep my eyes on her at every second for fear of where her impulses will lead. It is a nice change to send her upstairs with her friends to play by themselves, or to let her swim around the shallow end with her floaties and not worry that she'll slip out of the pool and run to the other end. I long for a fence around our backyard so I can send her out to play there! Although, she does not usually choose to be alone, so I'm not sure she would go out by herself anyway...my little extrovert.

And as Rachel rounded the corner to 4-year-old maturity, Carly passed her by, rounding the corner in the other direction. Almost on cue, she became contrary and determined, easily-frustrated and not easily-convinced when it comes to doing anything that isn't her idea. It's all so familiar that it's eerie. She's still cute, with all her baby pudgy, those piercing blue eyes, her funny little antics and the way she talks. But because she is so similar to Rachel, I know where it leads, and it makes me nervous and almost dreading her third year (she's not even two, and I'm dreading her third year...how unreasonable is that?). I am hoping that, having come out on the other side with Rachel, I will be able to have a better outlook the second time around. I am also praying to enjoy this sweet season with her now, before the storm really hits, and that God will give me wisdom to handle it better when it comes.

And Baby Boy. We cannot wait to meet you. We cannot imagine how our lives will change. I have tried to imagine snuggling up with a baby boy (all my friends say boys are the cuddliest and that they do so love their mommies), but it's hard to envision it being the same with a boy. Baby girls are little, sweet flowers--delicate and feminine and dainty. It is just difficult for me to anticipate what having a boy will be like. I'm intrigued and excited to have a new experience on our third time around. I'm also extremely curious about how different this child might be. The first two sure look like their daddy. This one might look like me. My labors were identical with Rachel and Carly (17-hour labor, 30-45 minutes pushing, both born around 8:30pm, perfectly healthy, both weighing 7lbs 12oz, no meds), and neither were earlier than predicted (in fact, Carly was seven days LATE). This one might really surprise us and come early, and he might come fast, or we might need interventions we've never had to have before. Who knows?? It would be very surprising if it all happened the same a THIRD time, so I'm expecting the unexpected, knowing all the while that I cannot prepare because I just don't know (neither from experience nor from my imagination) what will be.

So, looking at my ticker, I am at 36 weeks and 3 days today. The house is a wreck--there's so much that needs to be done before Baby makes his debut. We need to settle on a name. As long as this pregnancy has seemed, this date has surely crept up on me. But I remain fairly relaxed. I guess I feel as prepared as I'll ever be and as unprepared as I've ever been.

a race-y post

I can honestly say that I am a prejudiced person (and I hate it about myself). I can honestly say that I believe everyone is (because we are all so incredibly flawed). But I can honestly say that I have never ever ever been racist. I seek to love all people as Christ loves all people--equally and with a servant's heart. I can honestly say that I fail at this regularly, as my heart often chooses to believe lies instead of Truth.

I have been so very bothered about the video included in this CNN article.

Bear with me, here, but...where is the control group? To what are we comparing these children's answers? All I see here is a study on color. Not skin color, mind you, but color. The child in this video, as admitted by her mother, has not been exposed to much ethnic diversity in her short life. She probably has, however, watched hours upon hours of Disney princess movies and the like, wherein darkness is always, always associated with evil. What conclusion must she draw?

This study is reality. People with dark skin have a plight, and this is it: since the beginning of history, obscurity is bad and light is good. If the study had shown children pictures of identical children wearing dark clothing versus light clothing, I venture to guess the results would be the same.

There are also emotions associated with every color of the rainbow (anyone who has taken a marketing class has been taught this basic idea). Yellow is happy and blue is calm. Perhaps CNN should do a study showing identical children with skin tones or clothing of every color, and asked the questions, "Which is the happy child?" and "Which is the calm child?" I imagine the results would largely reflect how each child's mood affected by the colors represented.

I think I am most bothered because this little girl is Rachel. She's fair and innocent, about the same age, and having lived in a sort of protected bubble so far in her sweet little life. I felt preyed upon by CNN. This mother--presumably intentionally chosen for the interview because of her blond hair and southern accent--was upset to the point of tears, and then badgered (in my opinion) about her daughter having a "healthy ego." She was put on the spot and made to feel as if her child is racist--race being a subject that has probably never even occurred to the child.

I can't quite get my bearings on what point CNN is trying to make through this study. In the article, it seems as if black families talk with their children about race--because they have to. Their children automatically face obstacles that white and fair children do not--the darker their skin, the bigger and more frequent the obstacles. How can white people help? I think we must give our children opportunities to interact with people of other ethnicities. We must find ways to build relationships and to love them and serve them as equals and superiors. I truly don't think just talking about it will remedy much, because everyone has a fear of the unknown. We can talk ourselves until we are blue in the face (ha!), but until our children know through experience that it's okay, they will fear other races.

Practically, this can be challenging. Most of us live and work and play and socialize with people who are like us. And that's understandable. I think minorities do the same thing. It's comfortable. It's easy. The plight of dark-skinned people will never be reversed, in my opinion. But those of us who don't experience it can surely do something to remedy the problem, to aid in their course, to help them overcome--obstacles and fears of their own--and to display love and compassion, understanding and empathy. These are people, who live with a sort of inborn oppression that I can never understand. I simply pray that I don't add to it, and that, most of all, they see a glimpse of the character of Jesus in me, so that they will be drawn to a Savior who cares and understands and wants to carry their burdens for them, and who ultimately died for each and every person: "...and with your blood you purchased men for God from every tribe and language and people and nation" (Revelation 5:9). Praise and glory to the One who is the very embodiment of unconditional, unwavering LOVE.

she's eighteen...months

Oh, sweet Carly. I have so much updating to do on her growth and goings-on. She adores her big sister, and she's learned to push Rachel's buttons, too. She's opinionated and full of personality. Life is so much more fun with her around.

Last Monday, I started her in big girl undies. ...well, to her, they are big girl undies. They are really the teeny tiny padded Gerber training undies, but they are definitely not diapers, which is the key. My plan was to wait until the weather got warm enough, and then let her run around in undies and a tee for a few days until she figured things out. Thankfully, I don't have to worry one iota about poopy, because she hasn't done that in her pants in MONTHS...I honestly cannot remember the last poopy diaper I had to change. So, I've waited on the peepee. I started Rachel in undies much earlier, and it resulted in much frustration. Looking back on our EC experience with her, it was just a silly mistake on my part--I needed to be comfortable waiting until the child could clearly communicate her needs. With Rachel, I was left guessing (does that mean potty? does she need to go? is she going to go in her pants??). Carly can say everything that needs to be said, and clearly has a grasp of all of it: potty, diaper, undies, dry, wet...she gets it.

So last Monday and Tuesday were full of puddles. She did immediately start telling me when she had wet (she was always so concerned with "peepee...floor"). By Wednesday, we could have let ourselves become quite frustrated, but, I held onto hope that she'd get better. By the weekend, she was making it to the potty much more often, and yesterday, we were accident-free! AND, the best part is that we aren't having to prompt her at all--I think that is key to knowing she understands (I remember constantly asking Rachel, mostly out of fear that I would miss her cues). She even woke up Monday morning, calling "potty, potty, potty" and her diaper was DRY! That hasn't happened again, although her morning daipers have been significantly less soggy. I'm certainly okay with that taking a little longer (Rachel was almost 2 1/2 before she stayed dry at night).

At any rate, it appears we're pretty well there--with a potty-trained baby turning 18 months old yesterday. And I could not be more pleased with our journey this time around. We started on Day 1 with EC (Elimination Communication) this time. It sounds like a long time to work on something, but it has become a lifestyle around here. Was it worth it, knowing that I might could have gone this route (that is, potty training by way of training pants in 2 weeks or less) even without all the preliminary pottying that happened over the last 18 months? YES. A thousand times--YES. I cannot ignore the fact that she has always pooped in the potty as the rule, not the exception, and began doing so consistently around 7 months (whenever solid poop showed up and she began sitting up). No, she didn't tell me, and yes, I changed many poopy diapers too. But what mommy wouldn't give up a little extra effort to have to deal with LESS poopy?? By about 10 months, I probably only had to change one poopy diaper a week (give or take), and by 12 months, hardly ever. For THAT, and that alone, it's worth it to me. And I can't help but think that our week-in-undies has been made easier by EC.

Other things I love about Carly:

• She loves hugs, and, although she's on-the-move all day, she regularly checks in for a good snuggle.
• She also loves to snuggle with stuffed animals, and, anytime she snuggles, she says, "awwwwww" when she hugs one of her little friends, or one of us. It's very cute.
• When she's having fun, she says, "BEEEEEEEE" instead of "weeeeee!"
• She says "peeba" for "pizza" (which she loves).
• When she nods affirmatively, her entire torso nods enthusiastically.
• She LOVES to communicate, and gets so very excited when we understand her. She has lots of words, and sometimes will rattle them off, just to hear herself be understood ("knee...knee...knee..." "Yes, Carly, that IS your knee." ).
• She's very ambitious, and is into climbing, jumping, and running. She is expressive when she falls ("woah!" she squeals).
• She thinks Rachel is funny, and she seeks her big sissy's approval. She also knows how to get a rise out of Rachel, which is funny to watch, but it quickly creating points of contention throughout the day. Rachel's a tough cookie, but it appears that Carly will be giving her a run for her money. I love that.
• She is the easiest to laugh. Just a tone in my voice or a sideways glance can get a giggle out of her. And she has the best giggle I've ever heard; it's impossible not to smile or laugh along with her.

There are so many things, every day. I can't count how many times I whisper under my breath, You are so stinkin' cute.. The twinkly in those clear blue eyes, and those squishy chubby, thighs and the little curls that are growing in the back of her hair...her random assortment of teeth, the way she'll crawl or scoot on her bottom just to be funny, the way she's beginning to pretend and form her own opinions. I think we'll keep her.