Duck Dust and Other Such Things....

I was thinking about duck dust tonight. Duck dust. This is the term my mom used to use (frequently) when she was sure the dirt in her house was from our duck. I'm not sure how an outside duck created duck dust in the house, but it was kind of a catchy phrase.

We never meant to have this duck. A friend of ours daughter found a duck egg when they were walking by the lake one day. Our friend didn't know what to do with it, and didn't want to disappoint her daughter, so she suggested that they take it to the pastor's family. (My family was known for taking in orphaned animals.) They brought us the egg. My dad thinking there wasn't a chance in the world this egg would ever hatch, stuck it in the incubator just to make everyone happy.

Wonder of wonders, the duck hatched. It was sooo cute! And it thought all of us were his parents. He followed us everywhere just like ducklings follow their moms. We all loved this duck. If we were out working in the yard, or playing, there was the duck right at our feet. Even after he grew up he was a great pet, loving to be anywhere the family was. The only complaint was, of course, the aforesaid "duck dust."

 At the time we were having problems with ticks in the yard. One day my dad decided to spread Diazinon to get rid of the ticks. My mom suggested he put the duck away, but my dad said it would be fine. Well, our dear pet followed my dad around as he put the Diazinon out.....eating the Diazinon. Shortly thereafter we went out to find him dead. Yes, d..e..a..d.. dead. Not a good day. My little sisters were young at the time and especially attached to the duck. My dad decided since they were not home, it would be a good time to go ahead and bury the duck. He was hoping to save them from  the trauma of seeing their pet dead.

WRONG!!!! When my sisters got home and found out, they cried and cried and cried. Allison's biggest complaint was that she didn't even get to say goodbye! She repeated this over and over and over.....while crying. Finally my dad did the only thing a good dad could do. He took them outside and dug up the dead duck. After they said, "good bye" and had a proper funeral, he reburied the duck.

I have told my family, when my dad dies, we are to be sure Allison has seen him BEFORE we bury him.  I'm not as nice as my dad........

THUNDERBOLT!!

We have a new pet as of today. It's a roly poly. That's my kind of pet.The cage is small, he doesn't eat much, and probably will escape sometime soon.  Kade came up to me after he found his pet and asked me if I knew what his name was. I said, "no." He said, "Thunderbolt." I cannot think of a better name for a roly poly.
 He asked me if I knew why he named him that. Again, I had no clue. He said...."Because he's SUPER FAST!!" I tried not to laugh. Honest I did. But, I couldn't help it. I laughed and laughed and laughed. I asked him if he had ever seen him move. He told me he pulled his head out once, and then put it back. It probably was fast. The little thing's scared to death.
I'm in charge of Thunderbolt. I'm to watch him and care for him. I'm thinking of being his hero. There has to be numerous ways to escape out of a jar. Thunderbolt will thank me, and I'm sure Kade will find his brother, Lightning!

Praising God and Losing a Battle

I'm praising my Saviour this morning. I woke up feeling GREAT! I've been sick the last few days, and when I'm sick I always think I'm dying. (I get that from my dad.) When I'm sick the last thing I want to do is praise God. I don't nessecarily feel like reading the Word, or praying, or singing His praises. Pretty much, I want to feel sorry for myself and have others do the same. That looks pretty childish on paper, but it's true. So, I seem to be over whatever life threatening disease I had, and I feel like praising God again.

And then I think of my dear friend Robbie. He's fighting a real battle with a real disease. He has five children, the youngest being only 4. Only FOUR God, don't You see he still needs his daddy!!??? Robbie's losing this battle. Very quickly. They've been fighting with all their might for a little over a year. The doctor says he won't live the week out. His wife is facing raising their five beautfiul children on her own. Not only that, she's facing life alone after 20 some years together. Unimagineable to me. And what is Robbie doing? He's PRAISING JESUS. Everything is being ripped from him and he is praising God. I don't understand it. I can't praise God when I have a cold.

Robbie understands "Take this world, but give me Jesus."

To Bite or Not To Bite. That is the Question.

"Why is Elijah crying?" I asked my 4 year old. "His finger touched my teeth," Kade answered. That was code for, "I bit him." He talks in "code" when he doesn't want to get in trouble. I admit it. I have a biter. I thought he had quit, but I guess old habits die hard.

When Kade was 2 we were at the park with a friend and her 3 year old. The two children were sliding down the tube slide. It couldn't have been more then 2 minutes. What can happen in a tube slide??? I heard crying and Kade came out of the slide with bite marks on his arm. I asked my friend if her son  might have bit him. She said emphatically, "Oh no, we don't allow him to bite." As if I encourage my kids to bite! "Go ahead kids, bite away!" "That one's got soft skin, take him out."
Turns out Kade had tried to bite his buddy and got his own little arm in the way. Yep, he bit himself. He came out crying, looking for sympathy. I'm not naturally sympathetic, especially when my child was about to inflict teeth marks on another child. I asked him if his bite hurt. He said, "yes" I said, "Don't bite others." He remembered for awhile, but looks like it's lesson time again.

Mom of the Year

Sometimes I'm not "mom of the year." Like..... every day. I wish I was. When my oldest was an infant I looked at him, and sincerely thought, "How could anyone ever yell at a child?." Then he grew up. Sometimes I'm pretty sure he drives me crazy just to get me to yell. I love that child to death, but he can drive me crazy.

Children are such a unique gift from God. I think they are a picture of His nature sometimes. When I'm having one of my "not mom of the year" moments, and I'm failing miserably in this thing called child rearing, I'm amazed at my kids. They STILL love me. They unconditionally love me no matter what. It humbles me, and causes my heart to ache knowing I'm never going to get it right every time. I want to. I want to be the best mom ever. I try to remember that I am their best mom ever, and God's grace is amazing and sufficient. Every day, no every moment, I get a new chance, a do over. And I'm so grateful. I'm even more grateful for the beautiful children God has given me.

While I will never be "mom of the year," I get to be mom to Zack, Rylie, Kade, and Elijah. What a gift! It makes me strive every day to be more like Jesus because they are.

The flour got a little crazy.

"I'm sooo sooo sorry, I'm soo sooo sorry, mom." This is what my four year old said to me just after he turned the mixer on a higher setting than I told him to. And, just after flour blew all over him and the kitchen. Which was after I had swept and mopped the floor.

He was so cute standing there apologizing profusely with flour all over him. I wanted to be a tiny bit upset, but I couldn't. We were making cookies, he and I. I love making cookies (or anything really) with my children. Especially when there's just one helping me at a time. It's a special time in the kitchen for me. With four children relatively close in age we don't get a whole lot of one on one time. I didn't want to mess this moment up by getting upset. So I took a picture. Then I put Kade in the tub and cleaned the kitchen. Again.

The Library Brings Out the Best in Everyone.

I love the library.
Well, I love the children's room at the library. It's the only room I'm familiar with. I  never get out of it. My kids love the library too. They also have never been anywhere but the children's room. I don't dare take them anywhere else. We're not quiet, nor do we know what are socially acceptable things to say about others. Maybe someday we will venture out, but not yet.

Over all the library is a great experience for us, but there is one thing I don't understand. Why is it  every time I go to the library ALL my children must use the restroom? We could all use the bathroom 3 minutes before we get there, but still we must all (at different times) have to "go." Now. "No mom, I can't wait."

It must be the excitement of the automatic flushing toilets, or maybe the hand dryers that blow your hands all the way to the floor. I don't know, but I have spent more time cumulatively in the bathroom than reading books while at the library.

The best is the baby. He holds in his poop until we are at the library, all relaxed with books spread everywhere, and then he lets it rip. Normally he is not a stinky baby, but at the library he is the smelliest child I have ever had! He doesn't just do this on occasion, but EVERY time we have all our books spread out everywhere. The part that amazes me is that EVERY time we go I leave the diaper bag upstairs, out the door, in the parking lot, in the car! What am I thinking!!!??

 I sit there holding the stinky child telling myself, "it's not that bad" or "he can wait." When people start avioding me, then the aisle I'm on, then the children's room, I realize we must pack up, clean up, and get the baby changed. (Mainly because it's not appropriate to leave your infant somewhere you are not because he reeks.) My children are not yet old enough to stay alone. So, we pack up, clean up (because we are messy), and head out.

Today I tried to hold the baby not too close to me because, as usual, this is not a normal poop. He's been saving. It's beginning to leak out....everywhere. I'm wearing a new white shirt. I've only worn it once before. I prefer it stays white, at least in public. I change the baby. Noone will want to get their hands blown to the floor in that bathroom for awhile! I look in the mirror. Poop, on my new white shirt! I hear the baby laughing and I begin to think it's all a plan.

 We're not finished at the library, I don't have another shirt. I'm the mom of 3 children and 1 infant.. I walk back into the children's room with yellow poop on my new white shirt. It will probably never come out anyway, and I've only worn it twice....

. We sit back down, spread our books everywhere, and begin reading. Suddenly there's a loud whisper in my ear, "mom, I have to go."