6/25/2018 1 Comment complete graceDeath is a frequent topic of conversation around our house. Some people think we are weird (for more than just this I know), morbid, inappropriate and weird. It's a hard topic. It's an awkward and uncomfortable topic. But it's so much a part of our life, we can't help it. My kids, and Reuben for that matter, never met my dad but we talk about Pake all the time. The grandfather figure they have on my side, my own Grandpa, was a very important part of their life and he passed a way almost two years ago. And I just killed 3/4 of our goldfish.
Death is scary in it's finality. It's terrifying actually. It's horrible, agonizing, and gut wrenching. It creates huge gaps that never fill. I hate it. But I can't pretend it doesn't exist. I can't lie to my kids that accidents don't happen, that some of us don't die way too young. Because that is my life. Don't get me wrong, I'm as age appropriate as I can be with them. But I will not promise them a long life because I can't. And it kills me that I can't. I wrestle all the time with living today for our life with Christ after death. The moments I'm snuggled up with Reuben, our 3 rambunctious, beautiful kids sprawled all over us, watching a movie or reading a book makes me think man, I never want this to end. When we are running around outside finding adventures at every turn I think, it can get better than this? How on earth do I teach the kids that life doesn't begin and end with death here, especially when we are flushing Goldie the goldfish down the toilet? And in God's infinite wisdom and grace... He does all the work for us. I was bringing Jackson to school after dropping the girls off and we were just chatting about nothing. And he asked how old my grandmother (aka Nana) is. "How old is Nana? 92?" "80 buddy." "That's old. Is she going to die soon?" "Well... hopefully not soon. But eventually. We all die. Hopefully when we are old and not little." "I don't want Nana to die. I love Nana. Is she scared to die?" "No buddy. Nana loves Jesus with all her heart and is so excited to one day finally be with him. She asked Jesus into her heart a long time ago and has been listening to and loving him ever since. When she dies, she gets to spend forever with him." "Ok." I thought that was the end of the conversation. Jackson chattered on about how he's excited to get dentures because it means he gets to go to heaven (I have no idea) and something about a big truck parked on the street. And after a few seconds of silence I heard, "Jesus, please come live in my heart. I love you so so much and I want to be with you in heaven. Please come live in my heart." And cue the waterworks. Holy. Guys seriously, I couldn't stop crying happy tears. Faith like a child I tell you. He anxiously asked me if Jesus heard him which I assured him he did and he beamed from ear to ear. All I could squeak out was a "Thank you Jesus!!" When I dropped him off at his friend's before school I heard him saying, "I asked Jesus into my heart!" and then proceeded to talk about the truck he saw :) I have never been more thankful for generations of the faithful. That my grandmother in her steadfast faith and deep desire to serve the Lord until her dying day profoundly shaped my son's life. In the most important way. We have a lot of learning and growing to do but I'm beyond blessed for the faith community we are a part of who will help our huge inadequacies in raising our kids in Christ. I won't lie guys. It was my proudest day as a parent and I know it had absolutely nothing to do with me.
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6/21/2018 0 Comments pink eyeSo.... we have pink eye. Well, us girls do.
Harper had it briefly for one day and looked like a bee stung her eye. Shiloh had two days of goop sealed eyes. And me? I look like a lost a fight. Of course my pink eye hasn't stayed in my eye but has bruised my entire eye socket. Down to my cheek bone. It's beautifully disgusting. Which my son agrees with. I joked at home that I looked like Quasimodo. Jackson thought that was hilarious until I had to bring him to school. "Mom. PLease stay in the car or at the top of the hill. I'll be fine. If you're eye is goopy I don't want you come." "Umm. Rude. I'm coming. I need to kiss you goodbye." "No, please don't. I don't want anyone to see your eye." "I'm coming." "Ms. Andrea can bring me home. No one needs to see you." He really didn't think it was funny when I limped like Quasimodo down to his classroom lineup. But when someone asked me if I lost a fight, Jackson proudly stated, "You are too tough to lose a fight." Ah buddy. I love you. 6/21/2018 0 Comments supper routineWe have a new routine here.
Reuben's been working later lately so the kids and I have been on our own from dinner until bedtime. We try to read the Bible every day after dinner. Most of the time we end of reading Samson and Daniel in the lions den along with other stories. This week Shiloh found an old kid's hymnal I had. And of course I insisted I sing every single one. Every one. Christmas included. And for any of you who know me, you know how much I love to sing. Out loud. Hymns. Outloud. Apparently Shiloh was as shocked as I was because she sat there watching me with my mouth wide open. And now, because it must be such a peculiarity we do it every night for about 20 minutes. And because I don't love music enough, we then bust out the keyboard. I have a super awesome keyboard that not only plays a few variations of a piano, it has bangos, guitars, helicopters, doors slamming and screaming. And so so many more. And prerecorded dance tracks. The kids go nuts. Shiloh starts singing her head off, Jackson goes totally wacko and Harper.. oh Harper.. She starts head banging, raising her legs and starts playing the piano with her butt. Because that isn't quite enough music for the evening, we end with a dance party. Moana, Shakira, Redfoo. We got it all down. We do a mad interpretive dance to 'Let it Go', shake our hips (mostly Shiloh, she defies the white dutch stereotypes) to Shakira and waltz around to Beauty and the Beast. It's the highlight of my night, I won't lie. So if you need a bit of music in your life, be it hymns, our own compositions or dance off''s come on over! 6/17/2018 0 Comments overheard this weekThings I overheard this week....
"I can't wait to die and go to heaven. Then I finally get dentures" (Jackson) "I don't like the man in the front closet" (Shiloh) "There is no man in the front closet." (Me) "That's what you think..." (Jackson) ... yes then I did go check the closet repeatedly. "Hey mom those bugs are giving each other a piggy back!" (Jackson) ... not sure that's quite what they are doing.. "Ok children, now wiggle your butt and you can go home" (Shiloh, while pretending to be a teacher). 6/17/2018 0 Comments soccer momGuys I'm a soccer mom again.
We are 3 games into the season and I'm not sure I was cut out to be a soccer mom. Ok that's a bit of a lie. I actually find it ridiculously entertaining to watch and at times get a little too into it. But the best part is watching how completely and insanely different my kids are. Jackson and Shiloh play on the same team. Last year Jackson played on a 'real league' for the first time and Shiloh watched. And by Jackson playing I mean Jackson running around like a maniac. And by Shiloh watching I mean, bossing Jackson around from the sidelines or running around chasing butterflies or running onto other fields. You know how it is. I got my hopes up this year that my child would have matured a bit having almost completed JK (GAH TEARS!!!). Umm. Nope. Jackson continues to run around like a tasmanian devil with his tongue out, often breaking into leap frog or spinning on mad circles to get as dizzy as possible. As soon as he sees another boy who looks like he might remotely want to goof off, Jackson jumps around like a psycho and gets everyone else going. He must have been watching some weird European soccer somewhere because he constantly pulls his shorts up into a speedo. Thank goodness he's wearing boxers so we see them sticking out of his shorts all the time. And my favourite is when, multiple times, MULTIPLE TIMES, the coach cannot find Jackson. Because he's rolling down the ditch repeatedly. I should NEVER have taught him how to roll down the hill. When he wants to, he is persistent, encouraging of his team mates (and the opposing team), determined and can really kick that ball! It makes this mom's heart so proud. And the 99% of the other time, he's just Jackson. Don't get me wrong, he isn't a bad kid. He's just so bloody distracted by everything and how on earth I produced such a social child is beyond me. And then there is his sister. Can you say her father's daughter? Talk about perfectionist! Jackson aimlessly weaves through the pylons with the ball, and does not give a hoot if his ball does not go where he wants it to. Which is good because his ability to concentrate on whats in front of him means the ball rarely does. But Shiloh kicks the ball with precise little kicks that go about 2 feet. She dribbles the ball around the pylons taking a bazillion times longer than everyone else. When the ball goes out of line, she's devastated. If she doesn't think she can kick the ball to the net, she turns around and goes back. She listens intently to the coach and can tell you every single thing he's said. I'd be surprised if Jackson could tell you one thing. She follows instructions immediately. Jackson... we are lucky if ever. If someone takes her ball, she's absolutely crushed. Jackson just dwaddles around to something else and comes back 5 seconds later. We can convince (aka bribe) Jackson to finish out a whole game. A few games ago Shiloh went up to the coach and said, "I'd like to go home and go to bed now but my mom said I have to stay and play the game but could you please tell her I just want to go home!". And yet, every Tuesday they are thrilled ALL DAY to be playing soccer at night. Bless my heart, these kids are the best. |
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