Santa and God

I suppose Christmas is always on the minds of young children. Today my middle child just raced into the room where I was in, waving a catalog exclaiming "this is what I really want!" It was a skateboard ramp. This way, he said, he doesn't have to go to the skateboard park. He's quite excited. Asked when we could go to the mall to see Santa so he could ask Santa for this gift. To that my youngest, the four year old pipes up "I want everything. I've asked God for everything!"

Hmmmm, so interesting that God and Santa are nearly synonymous to my kids. I wonder what I've done wrong!

It's actually quite interesting because Reid supposedly told Katie that there was no Santa and the guy at the mall wasn't really santa. So a few days ago Katie told me she wanted to go sit on the pretend Santa's lap and ask for a toy and then on Christmas there's no sleigh and Santa's not real so the fake Santa, who is dressed in a red suit just like the real Santa, will show up in a car and use the door to come in, set the presents by the tree and leave. Because there is no real Santa.

It's so easy to forget God until I really need Him, but as I went about my day today, thinking about the good things that are happening I realized often I don't show any gratitude for it. I consider these things my doing instead of God's doing. I am inclined to only go to Him when I need to; when things seem beyond my control.

So, I'm reminded to not just treat God like a benevolent Santa that I go to only when I want or need something. He's so much more than that! To realize everything I am and have are from Him puts it all in a completely different perspective. To realize who I am and who He is... it just brings me to a place of awe.

As for my kids, I'm happy that God is a daily part of Katie's life. I'm happy she can go to bed, praying to Him, bringing her requests, simple and trite as they are; I'm happy she knows He loves her and that all good gifts come from Him. But there's so much more, and I'm excited for her to learn that someday. I'm excited as I learn that myself right now.

And you? Do you ever view God as a benevolent Santa, magic 8 ball or gumball machine?

WDJD: What Did Jesus Do?

Oh the joy of having three children! There's always some type of discussion and since one is almost 5 and the other is 6, peppered with the know-it-all almost 10 year old, the discussions are always intriguing if not exasperating at times.

This morning alone Katie asked why I hadn't fixed her project during the night. She had created a cute pig on a popsicle stick and it fell off the stick and needed taping. So, I apologize for forgetting to fix it and promptly do this. To which Katie says that pigs are important and Reid disagrees because pigs only give us meat like bacon, and I, their wonderful mother, never cooks bacon. Katie is now defending pigs usefulness and contribution to society with "they roll in the mud!" Yes. An important contribution. David, my husband, and I just laughed. And the two went on about pigs which turned into a conversation about farms which in turn switched to chickens, which led back to pigs and to swine flu (H1N1) . It's always a lively discussion around our house about some pretty mundane topics, or topics that should be mundane but to a 4 year old and a 6 year old are decidedly of interest.

There is one discussion that I really wish I could end. It's completely nonsense and it's intent is only to antagonize the other sibling. It's really ridiculous and yet as much as I try to give them tools to deal with it, it never sinks in.

Here's the scenario: One child (usually the older) says something that is utterly untrue about the younger child, just to upset them. It's a silly statement, completely untrue and yet they come to me complaining in tears that the other said that she's a baby or that her bow was blue when it was green. I try to tell them that it doesn't matter what someone says, what matters is the truth and the truth is that she's not a baby or that her bow color was the color it was and not what her brother said.

Pretty straightforward, pretty simple, right? NO! This is an ongoing conversation.

Supposedly when I was younger, even though I was the oldest, my brother also loved to bug me in this way and would tell me that my eyes were brown. (they're blue; my whole family's eyes were blue) This would cause me much tears and I always would believe him and be upset.

This all seems so very silly but I wonder at times if I still am prone to such things. I take in other's expectations and demands and what others say and expect of me. I think I'm not thin enough or intelligent enough or good enough in a variety of ways. Even in church there can be a subtle undertone of "not enough".

The truth is I'm not good enough, will never BE good enough and that's the reason for the Gospel. I'm reading a book right now by Elyse Fitzpatrick called Counsel From the Cross. It's been interesting as I find a certain parallel in my kids insistence that what their siblings say is true and my own insistence that what the outside is telling me is truth. I forget often what the Gospel message is and how it relates to me and impacts my daily life; not just when I first believed or when I die but daily. To realize that I am nothing but through Christ I gain everything. To realize that yes, I'm unworthy but through Him I am of infinite worth. To be forgiven so I can in turn live a life of forgiving others. To realize what Christ did on the cross, truly realize it in more than words and more than Christmas or Easter stories.

If I am truly forgiven and realize the Gospel message, would that impact how I view my God? How I view myself? And others? If I really got a glimpse of the love that God poured out for me, for you, would it change my daily life?

The reality is that this is truth and yet I listen to the other stuff instead of relying on what is truth. Over the summer I read Jerry Bridges' book The Discipline of Grace in which it exhorts us to "Preach the Gospel" to ourselves daily and I glossed over that. In church we've been discussing the gospel and what it means and yet I still haven't exactly grasped it.

Nineteenth-century Princeton theologian B.B. Warfield wrote: There is nothing in us or done by us, at any stage of our earthly development, because of which we are acceptable to God. We must always be accepted for Christ's sake. or we cannot ever be accepted at all...This is not of us only when we believe. It is just as true after we believe. It will continue to be true as long as we live. Our need of Christ does not cease with our believing; nor does the nature of our relation to Him or to God through Him ever alter, no matter what our attainments in Christian graces or our achievements in behavior may be. It's always on His "blood and righteousness" alone that we can rest. "

As much as I know that my worth is in Christ I still listen to the world's taunting. I still doubt, I still wonder and I still don't rest in His love and who He is and his infinite love for His children.

In the book Counsel from the Cross, Elyse (I can call her that; I've had dinner with her once) asks how the work of the cross, Christ's atoning sacrifice and ascension, impacts life today? Is it relevant to our daily life? Our struggles and our joys?

Something to think about.

3 Is A Magic Number

Okay, so maybe my title is a bit of an exaggeration! I guess my title in a way is telling of my age: Yes I grew up with Schoolhouse Rock and a wonderful friend of mine gave me the complete DVD of all the songs and cartoon "videos".

What's your favorite?

So back to 3. I have three kids and I generally am happy with that. I have been told that after the third you can just add a few more and it's about the same amount of work, but I'm a bit leery of that! For me, 2 kids seemed not enough and yet 3 kids seemed a bit too much! Plus most of my friends have 3 kids so they must also be a little suspicious of those that claim that 5 or 6 kids is the same amount of work and hardship as 3

In a way, I suppose it is. By the third child a mom is pretty relaxed and feels (erroneously) that there's nothing the 3rd could do that the other 2 hadn't already done: Getting into the syrup and flour at the same time, eating chocolate chips at 3am, high fevers and trips to the ER, cuts, scrapes, moms are generally relaxed and even-keeled when it comes to the 3rd child, so it stands to reason that a mom would feel the same with kids after that: I'm still unconvinced and that perhaps is because my youngest is very creative when it comes to getting into things. (I often wonder: What was she thinking?) Add a few more like her and..... I just don't know! But for the most part, I'm a fairly relaxed mom and I don't think I would have reached that if it wasn't for the fact that I have 3 kids.

The good thing about 3? There's always someone to play with. The bad thing? Well, I just won't go there or it'll sound like excessive complaining and the overall reality is I love my 3 kids. There is a bit of chaos and laundry seems never ending and my house is never clean and sometimes I don't feed them the healthiest of dinners but I love them and our family of five. I do think it's a magic number but whatever the number you have, that's magic.

In case you just had to see the lyrics:

Three is a magic number,
Yes it is, it's a magic number.
Somewhere in the ancient, mystic trinity
You get three as a magic number.

The past and the present and the future.
Faith and Hope and Charity,
The heart and the brain and the body
Give you three as a magic number.

It takes three legs to make a tri-pod
Or to make a table stand.
It takes three wheels to make a ve-hicle
Called a tricycle.

Every triangle has three corners,
Every triangle has three sides,
No more, no less.
You don't have to guess.
When it's three you can see
It's a magic number.

A man and a woman had a little baby,
Yes, they did.
They had three in the family,
And that's a magic number.

3-6-9, 12-15-18, 21-24-27, 30.
3-6-9, 12-15-18, 21-24-27, 30.
Multiply backwards from three times ten:

Three time ten is (30), three times nine is (27),
Three times eight is (24), three times seven is (21),
Three times six is (18), three times five is (15),
Three times four is twelve,
And three times three is nine, and three times two is six,
And three times one is three of course.

Now take the pattern once more:
Three! . . .3-6-9
Twelve! . . .12-15-18
Twenty-one!. . .21-24-27. . .30

Now multiply from 10 backwards:
Three time ten is (30 - Keep going), three times nine is (27),
Three times eight is (24), three times seven is (21),
Three times six is (18), three times five is (15),
Three times four is twelve,
And three times three is nine, and three times two is six,
And three times one...
What is it?!
Three!
Yeah, That's a magic number.

A man and a woman had a little baby.
Yes, they did.
They had three in the family.
That's a magic number.

Music To My Ears

Like nearly everyone, I love music, and not just any music; I like to think I enjoy really good music. I was one of those mommies who played classical music for my kids, before they were born and afterwards, but not because I thought it'd make them smarter; I did so because I like classical music.

A bit of background: I started playing flute when I was in third grade. A year before on a trip to see my Aunt, she gave me the flute she used when she was in elementary school. I fell instantly in love with its red velvet case, lovingly putting together the three pieces and trying to make any type of noise I possibly could, and it turned out I was pretty good at it. My flute was a hand me down when my aunt had it, so this instrument is easily fifty years old and I soon discovered that it was made of a a different metal than all the other flute student's instruments, but it just made me love it more. (It's a bit shinier than most flutes)

I played flute or piccolo from third grade up through some of college, even after I married. I still know the piccolo solo for Stars and Stripes Forever, my High School's fight song, and Dvorak's Slavonic Dances.

All this to lay the groundwork that I like real music.

When my children were born, I wanted them also to enjoy "real" music. Nothing annoyed me more than music that was sung by kids and marketed to kids. The original version is always better, so why not expose them to the original, better artists? So I did. And life was good. I'm not cruel; I bought them some CDs geared for kids but sung by real artists: Elizabeth Mitchell, Lisa Loeb, The Jellydots, Ella Fitzgerald, etc. Really brilliant artists. And they never complained, and I was happy because I got to listen to really good music instead of cringing to really bad music.

A few weeks ago in a Happy Meal the toy was a CD of Kids music. Katie was so excited and I thought it'd be okay to indulge her and put it in the CD player. It has not left! All three of my kids think it's the best CD ever! How can it be? I've exposed them to such great music of all types of styles; how can they be so enamored with this? Really; it is quite painful to listen to. Yet, within listening to it twice they were singing along, they had nearly every song memorized.

I have decided it must be the kid's voices that is so compelling to them, so i have decided to give in and perhaps buy them a few kids cd's. Any recommendations?

Father's Day Triathlon

Last Sunday I chose to cheer my husband on in his first olympic distance triathlon attempt. I'm sure I had more fun than he did! No; I'm joking. He had a wonderful time, and I had to round up 3 kids wherever I went, which was definitely not fun, but I brought plenty of drinks and snacks.

My plan was to be down at the lake before the swim started. I love crowd shots and thought it'd be a cool photo. Only it was a bit difficult getting my kids out of the house. I finally did so and knew we'd miss the beginning of the swim. (but got a phone call from a friend saying they were about 20 minutes behind schedule) Still, I missed the swim and knew I had.

On the way to the lake I realized that I was on the same course as the bike portion of the triathlon. Perfect! I decided to pull over and take pictures on the side of the road of all the cyclists. I'm bored so I started just shooting pictures of everyone. I thought it'd be good practice, as well as keeping me busy. My kids were cheering the athletes on, and it was fun seeing their reaction. Some of the athletes waved, others smiled, all seemed happy to hear them cheer.

I realized about 30 shots into things that my ISO was set to 3200! Way too high or a bright sunny day where the max would be 400. Not a problem,I changed it and things got better. I shot a few hundred pictures and heard David's voice calling out to us and the kids. Too late for a photo. (but looking at my random shots of people I don't know revealed I actually did get an okay shot of him racing) I stayed a bit longer, hoping to get a photo of another friend when I realized I filled up my CF card Of course, just then my friend raced by, calling out my name and waving. I felt so bad, I got in the car, went a few miles up the road and finally got a few mediocre photos of my friend, as well as several of others. My kids were pretty bored by now and clamored to go to the park. I think they actually thought we'd play at the park. Nope. It's all about the photo opportunity!

Had to park what seemed to be miles away but it was only half a mile at most, all this with about 18 pounds of photo gear on my back. Since this was my first triathlon viewing, I messed up and thought I was along the running path when I guess I wasn't. So I sat, waiting patiently for David and about 2 hours and 45 minutes into it thought it could not be taking him this long! He thought it was quite feasible to finish in under 2 hours and 30 minutes. Eventually I realized my error and went over to the finish line. I missed him! He'd come in quite a bit earlier.

Since he had some time to cool down, he looked great. He was dry. (but a bit salty) and I don't think anyone would guess he'd just finished a triathlon. He asked if I was thirsty and got me a strange non carbonated energy drink. What? No Diet Coke? Bummer. Saw a few of his friends, began chatting with them and listening to their varied stories. It was fun. My kids found other kids to play with and we all had a wonderful time being together and talking. It was a great way to spend a Sunday. I may never go back to church. (I'm joking)

Then it was time to go home. It was Father's day and we had a lot of other stuff on our plates with Grandparents and all that. So I trekked back the mile to my car and David rode his bike home and made it home before we did.

I asked David if he'd do it again and he said yes, but happy it was over with none on the schedule. But tonight I caught him looking online for an olympic distance tri in August or September and he went on a run and for a swim tonight.

Oh; he did very well. He missed his goal of under 2:30 but it turns out the run was a full mile more than what it should have been; I believe he was doing around 7:30 minute miles, so a the very least factor that in and he did accomplish his goal of under 2:30.

I love my husband, and not just because he's athletic and good at things like this. I just love him. He can be pretty competitive but is also one of the nicest guys you'll ever meet.

First Day of Vacation!

It is the day every mom can't wait for. The first day of summer vacation! Freedom. No having to get 3 kids dressed in the morning. No lunches hastily made before we head out the door. Nothingness. Beautiful Nothingness. A false sense that I am in control. I can choose my daily activities.

But can I? But do I?

First of all, I seem to recollect that this wonderful, beautiful sense of wonder, freedom and joy lasts about a week. Then I find myself contemplating why I thought this was something to be anticipated. Now I wish they'd go back to the routine of school!

I'm kidding. Or maybe I am. Not sure. Ask me in a week. As for right now, I'm happy to have not constraints. My kids are behaving quite well at the moment and its a beautiful, sunny day.

Today I have no plans. This is unusual for me. Its the first day of vacation! A time to be celebrated. A time for something special, but instead I'm cleaning house and my kids are outside in the yard with A, their neighbor friend I blogged about a few days ago. (Can You See It?) My kids are having a great time. Possibly a better time than any other "special" place I would have taken them. (for some reason "special" places are all places most moms really don't like, in example, the dreaded Chuck E. Cheese)

It is a good reminder to me that my kids need unstructured playtime. I am a planner. I can be spontaneous but I prefer things on a calendar, probably because if its not on the calendar, it won't get accomplished.

So, I tend to have something planned out nearly every day of the week! Really! Its all good and wonderful stuff: Swim team practice, book clubs that meet at the park or a friends house, swimming at a friends house, a weekly trip to an amusement park, etc. All great stuff. Stuff other kids would be thrilled to do, right?

My kids are thrilled to do stuff. But they seem to really appreciate the simple things like having a neighbor friend come over. Their highlight of the day so far? Laying out a picnic tablecloth and picnicking with their friend on the grass, sharing their sandwiches, juice, cheese, carrrots and goldfish crackers. (yes; it was a predominantly orange meal; I need to go buy more fruit)

How simple. A backyard picnic. My 9 year old hugged me, told me I was the best mommy in the world. For making him a sandwich he could eat outside with a friend!

When I was a little girl, (or gurl as my little K says) I thought it was the greatest thing to go to Marine World. I thought it was so far away and such a treat to go. I loved it. My kids have season passes to a local amusement park, and we've been going for over 5 years, and now they groan. They'd prefer a backyard picnic. I plan all this "stuff" trying to be a great mom, no boring summers for my kids, and yet I think they need the unstructured. Perhaps boring and unstructured is better.

Its definitely cheaper.

Can You See It?

A few months ago my kids realized another kid lived on the other side our back fence. They started a conversation through the knot holes. Then moved their little plastic playhouse closer to the fence so they could climb on it and meet the other kid.

They're full fledged friends now, but unfortunately A. fell off his little playhouse and broke his arm. Realizing this friendship and communication wasn't going to stop, and because its great to have friends, us parents got together to discuss a better way of doing things.

We built a door. Its a hidden door. Can you see it? This happened today, to my kid's delight. Uninterrupted playtime with their new best friend. David and I got to meet and talk at length to the neighbors as we worked on this new door together. They are the coolest, nicest people and I can't believe they've lived behind us for over 3 years and we did not even know their name!

I don't know about you but I'm not a super extroverted person. In fact, I'm not extroverted at all. Luckily I have 3 adorable extroverted kids that love to push me out of my comfort zone. Luckily also that they happen to have excellent taste in people. I've met some of my greatest, dearest friends through my kids.
So, this new friendship has just begun. I'm a bit ashamed to admit I don't fully know most of my neighbors. I know the 2 immediate ones on either side of me. The guy at the corner and his wife are really sweet and gives me bags of cherries every summer. I wave to the people across the street and know one other house that has kids the same as my kids age but that's it.

I've been reading several books lately on community. One made the point that, although community was valued in the past, there was a time (and my house was definitely built in that time) where community wasn't valued and privacy was in its places. Gone were the vast, wrap around porches of community gathering, but have you noticed? Its coming back. Neighborhoods are now being built with community in mind.

Of course, it doesn't take a large front porch to get to know your neighbors. It can take a few kids and a new door in a fence. Or just the initiative to invite them over.