The Sickly Blues

I'm sick......again. I don' have just your normal virus, I have Mastitis.....again. I've had it once a month for the past three months. Each time seems to get progressively worse. If you've never had it, it's hard to describe. It's like a very painful flu virus. My baby is just shy of 9 months old. In the midst of my pain, I've decided that it's time to wean him. That's what logic tells me anyway. I can't be sick 3 or 4 days every month. My heart says it's too early. He's too young. Formula smells bad. I cry when I think of it,  not knowing what to do.

My kids have gotten where they are quite responsible when I am down in bed. Zack fixed everyone breakfast and annouced to the others that, "Mom is sick. When I tell you to do something, you need to do it right away without complaining!" Wonder where he got that line? He came and got the baby out of bed and carried him (Oh my, I'm not ready for him to carry him around!) into the family room to play. All four of them took good care of each other and let me get some rest. They are such sweet children.

My dear brother stopped by after lunch and offered to take the kids home so I could get a nap. I said, "The baby too, right?" He said, "Really? He won't need changed will he?" Naaa. He'll be fine. Here's to hoping. I guess 22 yr. old brothers don't do diapers.

My husband is the best. He's a good man, but sometimes when I see a glimpse of his heart I fall in love with him all over again. I woke up in the middle of the night realizing I had Mastitis again. It put me in tears because I knew there was NOTHING I could do. All I could do was wait it out until morning and call the doctor. Dan gets up quite early to go to work. I know he needs sleep and the baby wakes us up once or twice a night. I rolled over and woke him up anyway to tell him my woes. I'm one of those people who need to "share" their discomforts in the middle of the night with others. (My parents could attest to this fact, as I woke them up many times as a child....and a teen....and a young adult.) My sweet husband turned over, wrapped his arms around me, and prayed for God's healing for me. And then he stayed awake and held me while I cried. He is a good man, and I am eternally grateful that God gave him to me. He wasn't able to fix my problem, but he made it a whole lot better.

I really don't have time to be sick. There is so much to do every day when you have 4 children. But, I guess if I hadn't gotten sick I wouldn't know how big, responsible, and helpful my kids are becoming. I wouldn't know how thoughtful my brother is when he doesn't have to be. And I wouldn't have had a glimpse of how much my husband cares for me. Thank You Lord for reminding me of the many things I have to be grateful for in my life.

I DO love my everyday life.

I keep forgetting to bring in a new box of Kleenexes from the pantry. This morning it backfired on me.

 “Kade,” I said, “Would you go get me a long piece of toilet paper?”  He runs off obediently to the bathroom.  He never brings me a long piece, so that’s why I specify. This time it’s semi long. I start to wipe my nose and realize it’s a bit damp. You never know with Kade.  “Kade, why is the toilet paper wet?” I ask.  I was hoping for the, “I got my hands wet, and then touched it” scenario.  “It drug through the water,” he replies.  Now I’m desperately hoping for the “wet sink” scenario. “What water?” I bravely ask. “The toilet, ” he says.  Of course it did. I’ve  just wiped my nose with potty water. 

Good thing I cleaned it last week sometime…..

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.