Walking in Little Shoes

I took a deep breath as I entered Chloe’s room, laying out her pajamas for the night. The day was almost over, and as trying as it had been, I hadn’t blown it with the kids. That fact gave me just enough strength to deal with whatever they would throw my way before they fell asleep.

However, as I walked into Caleb’s room and expressed my frustration that he still hadn’t picked up his socks off the floor, he responded with a question that caused me to take another look at the day:

“How many times do you think you’re going to be mean to me today?”

I stood bewildered for a minute and proceeded to ask Caleb what he meant.

“You yelled at me a lot today, so I wanted to know how many times you’re going to be mean?”

After I contemplated where he got such a grasp on sarcasm, I explained to him that he had been very disobedient today and that I did have to scold him a lot, but I hadn’t lost my temper with him.

Or had I? Now his comment had me doubting myself.

That comment and the comment his sister made earlier when she stated with disgust, “You just ruined my life.”

So during a day when I was praising myself for keeping my cool, I still had managed to ruin the life of a three-year-old and caused a four-year-old to think his mother was incredibly mean.

Sheesh.

I decided to take a minute to look at the day from my kids’ perspective. When I told Caleb that he hadn’t acted right today, he pointed out that he did do many of the things I had asked and only disobeyed a little. While he had spent much of the day defying me, he was right–he did help a few times, too. He got on his coat and shoes when we were trying to leave, and he put Chloe’s boot on, too. He cleared the table of his dishes at every meal, and he helped set the table for dinner. When I looked through Caleb’s eyes, I saw many tasks that were completed and a mother who was still harping about those from earlier in the day.

I had a slightly harder time looking through Hannah Grace’s eyes; it was probably all those bright colors and butterflies that got in the way. In any event, when I tried, I saw a mommy whose heart I could melt if I just caressed her cheeks while saying,”I’m sorry, Mommy. I won’t poke your bottom tomorrow.” And in her eyes, that apology erased all of the defiant behavior from the day.

Of course, if my kids stood in my shoes, they would have seen time after time after time children sneaking cookies and TV; ignoring requests to clean up; and that strange incident of running circles through the kitchen, poking my heiny every time they passed me while I was talking on the phone to Hannah Grace’s preschool teacher…just to name a few frustrations from the day.

Where they saw fun, I saw defiance. Where I saw defiance, they saw examples of obedience.

And I saw that while I was right, so were they.

Yes, my children need to obey, but I also need to see all that they do that is worthy of praise. I need to step inside their little shoes and take a look at me. Who do they see? A mother full of love, or a mother harboring disappointment?

Perhaps that paradigm shift will make the difference.

And if not, I’ll just embrace the title of ‘the meanie who ruins little kids’ lives.’

Marriage According to a Four-Year-Old

As we were riding along in the van on Sunday afternoon, I lazily closed my eyes and rested my head on my hand. I wasn’t really comfortable, propping my elbow against the window, but it was the best improvisation for a pillow that I could make.

In the back of the van, Caleb and Hannah Grace were having their own conversation, and I was pleased with the relative quiet for a van filled with five people. I hadn’t heard what started the conversation that caused me to sit up abruptly, but as I caught that first sentence, I focused my attention on every word that came out of the mouths of the two in the back:

Caleb: “Hannah Grace, you’re going to grow up and marry a boy someday.”

Hannah Grace: “Which one?”

Caleb: “I don’t know. You’ll just have to pick one, I guess.”

Hannah Grace: “I want to marry Daddy.”

Caleb: “You can’t marry Daddy; he’s already married.”

Hannah Grace: “But I want to marry Daddy!”

And my heart melted. I’ve heard that all girls want to marry their daddies when they’re young, but when those words came out of my daughter’s mouth, I couldn’t stop the smile that spread across my face.

That is, until my son continued:

Caleb: “You can’t marry Daddy! He’s already married, and one day you’re going to grow up, and Daddy and Mommy are going to die, so you have to marry somebody else.”

?!?!

And after that description of marriage, my heart froze back over.

Joining Mama Kat today for her Writer’s Workshop!

And don’t forget to come back tomorrow with your own post ready to link up for this week’s journey on Peace!

The Parenting Book I’ll Never Write

Last week was one of those weeks when the kids were awful, and my response was no better. After enduring one of those miserable moments, I began folding clothes and thought I will never write a parenting book. And as soon as the thought entered my mind, I realized that I also said I would never teach, like vegetable soup, or drive a mini-van.

Of course, if I did write a parenting book, it would not look like your typical book with research and sound advice and plans. It would serve more as a survival guide based on first-hand experience for those parents who also feel like they are losing their minds. So here goes, a sneak peak at excerpts from my book that I’ll never write.

My Child Peed on an Electric Socket: And Other Tales to Make You Feel Better About Your Parenting

From Chapter 4: How Did We End Up Here?

“If your child, in a moment of dramatics, ever propels himself out of his car booster seat, somehow wrapping the still buckled seatbelt around his ankle about twenty times, suspending his lower body mid-air while the rest of him hangs below, it is okay to step back and stare for a few minutes in bewilderment. Don’t feel guilty. After all, it is a pretty impressive feat and most likely won’t happen again. You might even take this opportunity to get the rest of the children settled inside and grab your camera. Don’t worry–he’s not going anywhere. When you are finally ready to rescue your child, simply unbuckle the seatbelt, and unwind.”

From Chapter 6: That Darned Toddler Bed

“Let’s face it–some kids just don’t care if Super Nanny said the technique would work. You can sit in that room all night long, silently putting that toddler back in bed without looking at or talking to her, and she’s still going to jump out laughing. So what are you going to do? You can continue on with the same routine, or you can give your back a rest for one night.

Try this technique: Wait until nap time to feed your kid lunch and bedtime to feed your kid dinner. After numerous days without a nap and too many nights of staying up hours past her bedtime, restraining your child in the highchair will be just the trick you need to have her zonked out in no time. When that little cutie is sleeping in her applesauce, simply move her to her bed. Trust me–after this many days of not sleeping, she’s not going to wake up when you move her.

Worried about what your friends will think? Who cares?! God didn’t give you one of those kids who calls for Mommy to get him out of bed in the morning. Your kid’s already downstairs making pancakes for breakfast! It’s about survival, and your survival is important!”

From Chapter 10: Teaching Them About God

“Who knew the question, ‘Who wants to pray first?’ could be so lethal? I looked in the rearview mirror, amidst the screams of ‘I’m first!’ ‘No, it’s my turn today!’ and saw my children punching one another. Yes, punching over who would pray first. Then each one began to start his or her own prayer, reaching over the sides of their car seats to slap the other on the head while yelling, “Dear God, thank you for this day!”

When your day has reached this point, I can suggest a couple of courses of action: turn the radio up, tune them out, or pray to God silently. Whatever you do, don’t try to yell at them to ‘Knock it off!’ or ‘Do you really think this makes God happy?!’ Because in the end, you’ll just start screaming during prayer (even if that prayer is being yelled), and you’ll feel like the loser when it’s all said and done.”

I’m even going to include a few bonus chapters on marriage:

Chapter 20: Fair Fights

“Try to resist the urge to blame your spouse for your child(ren)’s behavior. Pointing out that ‘it must be your genes because I never acted this way as a kid’ doesn’t really help the situation. Even if it is true.”

Chapter 21: Sex

“Don’t. If you’re reading this book, you don’t need to take the chance.”

What chapters would you include in a parenting book?

********************************************************************************

And to totally switch gears…

This Friday’s Journey: Peace

Write any kind of post covering the theme. You may use Scripture or not, write explicitly or implicitly, use a story or poem, etc., as far as what God is teaching you about peace. There are no rules other than to stick to the theme, and open your heart to what God would have you learn.

Last Friday we had three lovely ladies share their stories of joy, and I look forward to reading yours on peace this Friday!

The Christmas Newsletter

This weekend, I mailed the majority of our Christmas cards with only a few local relatives still left on the list. Shutterfly did a beautiful job creating a card with a big picture of our kids on the outside and a small one of each of them on the inside. I had room to write a private message, and the cards looked both professional and personal. The only thing that was missing was the Christmas newsletter. I ran out of time, but below is the newsletter that I had intended to send:

Wow! Another year has flown by right before our eyes. We definitely have stayed busy and learned a lot about our family in the course of this year.

Caleb had an interesting opportunity this year. After his teachers saw his amazing ability in putting together puzzles and building towers, he was entered in a ‘Future Architects of the World’ contest and won. His design for a building was selected and was to be built in Tokyo, Japan. Unfortunately, when Caleb consulted with the real architects, he became enraged at the changes he observed on the blueprints and shouted, “That’s not how I made it!’ ripping them to shreds. He was immediately fired from any future consultations.

Hannah Grace has also made us proud with the use of her talents. She tested off the charts for her ‘strong will’ and was recruited by the C.I.A. for one of their spy programs. They needed someone who was able to do what she wanted to do without a fear of consequences, and that description fit Hannah Grace perfectly. I can’t go into all of the details of her work, as I do not know them myself, but I know she was picked because the C.I.A said she couldn’t be worn down. Ain’t that the truth!

Chloe is doing well and growing and progressing as she should. In the last year, she has learned to walk and run and say many words. In fact, she has perfected one word so well that Webster’s online dictionary hired Chloe for the audio pronunciation part of their entries. If you look up the word ‘no’ online and click on the audio link, you will hear Chloe’s voice coming in loud and clear.

Matt and I have stayed busy with the day-to-day, and for the most part, we don’t have anything exciting to report. However, Matt was a finalist for the Guinness Book of World Records for saying an instruction to his kids the most times without the desired result. I, also, had my own mini claim to fame when a talent agent spotted me at IKEA making a flying leap to grab Hannah Grace off of one of the suspended in mid-air couches. I am now the face of Hanes stretch underwear ‘for women on the move.’

We hope this newsletter finds you and your family well and that you have a prosperous and joyous 2011!

What? Did I not do it right?

The Christmas Card Revealed

I wrote the blog that got us 50 free Christmas cards.

I picked out the coordinating outfits for our picture.

I stood out in the cold the same as everyone else during the one day of November that the temperature was not above 60 degrees.

I will stamp and address every Christmas card envelope that is to be mailed.

Yet I did not make the final cut for the picture.

But neither did Matt, so I guess it’s okay.

Frosted Glass Snowflakes Christmas 5×7 folded card

Click here to browse hundreds of Christmas card designs.

View the entire collection of cards.

The Wake-up Call

In the quest for greater productivity, I decided to start waking up at 5 a.m., a time I swore to never see again after my last round of teaching in a high school. However, I’ve tried this time for a week, and I have to admit, I don’t think I can go back to waking up an hour later. Getting the chance to read my Bible without rushing, writing a full blog post, putting on clothes and make-up, and possibly throwing in a load of laundry or making a warm breakfast all before the kids wake up make this hideous start time completely worth it. But for all the positives to this new routine, there were definitely some downsides, too:

– Realizing there was quite a bit more day left when I was ready to crash at 4 p.m.

– Having to adopt the bedtime of an 8 year old.

– Becoming that person who fell asleep at the church’s Christmas dinner while the speaker was pouring out her heart–hey, cut me some slack! She didn’t start talking until after 8:30!

– Contemplating giving my son the keys to drive us home. He is 4.

– Acknowledging that procreation is over for my husband and me because I will be sleeping (wait a minute–that one might fit in the positive category for now….)

– Welcoming the Mrs. Hyde version of myself who is scheduled to appear every Friday afternoon.

I may wake up early now, but I’ll never be a morning person.

A Parable

There once was a mother who could be heard repeating the same phrases daily:

“Stop picking your nose! You’re going to get sick!”

“Wash your hands after you use the bathroom! It’ll keep you from getting sick!”

“Eat your vegetables so you grow up healthy and strong–you don’t want to get sick!”

One Thanksgiving week this mother who always washed her hands got sick.

The same day she caught a stomach bug her husband who never picked his nose got sick.

The night before Thanksgiving a certain uncle who only ate organic food got sick.

Thanksgiving night the sweet aunt who picked up the mother’s children while wearing a mask (no kidding) when the mother was sick got sick.

Guess which turkeys didn’t get sick?

Moral of the story: Mommies don’t know everything.

If Mommy Takes a Sick Day

If Mommy decides to take a sick day and sleeps ten more minutes,

then her daughter will decide to play dress-up in her closet.

She will try on every skirt and all the pants that Mommy owns.

After she tries on all the clothes, she will notice that she isn’t wearing any shoes,

so of course, she will pull out Mommy’s ankle-height black boots.

Wearing these boots will make her feel very grown up,

so she will set out to do some grown up things.

First, she will make sure her brother and sister accompany her downstairs

while her mommy throws up in the toilet.

When she gets downstairs, she will realize that Mommy always makes breakfast,

and since she looks like Mommy in her boots, she will get some.

She will first have to push a chair to the refrigerator so she can get the friendship bread and cookies ‘hidden’ on top.

While she is getting breakfast for everyone, she notices the pack of 10,000 stickers and the stamp pads that she just got as a gift.

She decides they must have arts and crafts after breakfast.

Looking at her stickers makes her want scissors so she can cut her stickers into 1,000,000,000 tiny pieces.

Looking at her scissors makes her brother want to cut her hair.

Luckily, Mommy finishes throwing up in time (she hopes).

If Mommy takes a sick day,

then Aunt Lisa normally offers to take the kids away. And she does.

And if Aunt Lisa takes the kids away,

then Grammy and Papa Joe normally let the kids spend the night.

And if the kids are gone,

then Mommy can throw up and try to rest on her sick day in peace

and leave the clothes and friendship bread crumbs and 1,000,000,000 sticker pieces until tomorrow.

Which she does.

And when tomorrow comes,

Mommy cleans up all the clothes and friendship bread crumbs and 1,000,000,000 sticker pieces.

If Mommy is feeling well enough to clean,

then the kids have to come home.

And if the kids come home,

then they will drive her crazy.

But after they drive her crazy,

they will go to bed.

But to get back at her for sending them away,

the baby will wake up at four and six, and the daughter who likes to dress up will come in her bed before Mommy’s ready to wake up.

And after all the throwing up, and cleaning up, and waking up,

Mommy decides she needs to sleep ten more minutes.

Inspired by Laura Numeroff’s “If You Give a Mouse a Cookie” and other children’s books.

Why I Was Late

Since having children, I have had a tendency to show up five minutes late everywhere, and this year I decided, no more! I will not be that person! However, I am still that person but not for a lack of trying. And for all of those mothers who are on time everywhere and don’t understand mothers like me–I don’t know what to say. I can only throw my hands up in the air and question, “Maybe tomorrow?”. However, perhaps if I explain a morning like yesterday’s, I’ll receive a little grace from those who want to condemn me and my lateness.

6:00: Alarm goes off. I hit snooze (Okay, that may have been my first mistake, but give me a break! I still got up at 6:10–it’s pitch black outside!).

6:10: Go to the bathroom, wash my face, put in contacts

6:15: Pray, read my Bible

6:45: Begin working on my blog

7:10: Caleb and Chloe simultaneously wake up. (Darn. I had one more paragraph to write. I was going to stop at 7:15, anyway. Now two kids are up before I’m dressed. I am sunk).

7:12: Instruct Caleb to get dressed. Go to wake up Hannah Grace

7:15: Change Chloe’s diaper, get her dressed. See Caleb doing karate in the hallway, ask him if he’s dressed. Haven’t seen Hannah Grace emerge, know she must be lying on her floor doing nothing.

7:20: Redirect Caleb. Go in Hannah Grace’s room to tell her again it’s time to put on the clothes we picked out the night before. (See? Organization!).

7:25: Give Chloe some books to read. Begin getting dressed myself. Caleb runs in my room, informing me he’s dressed. Redirect Caleb to make his bed.

7:30: Stop getting myself ready when I realize the baby is no longer reading in her room. Walk past Hannah Grace’s room where she is still lying on her floor half naked. Redirect her

7:32: Make it downstairs to where Chloe has pushed a chair to the counter and is trying to get a banana. Notice all the aluminum foil she unrolled and the dog food she has spilled all over the floor

7:35: Go back upstairs with unhappy baby. Go past Hannah Grace’s room where she is still half naked, lying on her floor. Redirect Hannah Grace

7:38: Attempt to get ready again.

7:40: Stop getting dressed to yell at Caleb who has found his Daddy’s screwdriver (the tool, not his morning beverage). Ask Caleb if he made his bed. He says, “yes” and has, in fact, made his bed. Check on Hannah Grace who is still half naked on her floor. Redirect her.

7:45: Attempt to get ready again.

7:50: Put Caleb in time out for tackling one of his sisters.

7:55: Finish getting ready, check on Hannah Grace who is still half-naked, lying on her floor. Inform Hannah Grace that we are about to go downstairs and that naked people do not eat at my table. No shoes, no shirt, no service. Again point out the clothes that we picked out the night before. (At this point I debate if I should just dress her myself. I decide, ‘no,’ she’s just being defiant and wants me to dress her, and I will stick to my ‘No naked breakfast’ policy)

8:00: Fix Caleb and Chloe’s hair and am ready to do Hannah Grace’s but notice she is still lying on the floor half-naked. Remind her again of the breakfast policy. Go to my own room to quickly make bed, grab water and cell phone off nightstand.

8:15: Hannah Grace notices the three of us are going downstairs to eat, so she begins to get dressed. Tell Caleb to get on shoes located in the shoe basket next to the door (More proof that I’m not completely disorganized).

8:20: Serve everyone breakfast, pass out vitamins.

8:23: Grab Chloe’s shoes to put on while she’s in the high chair. Notice the socks that I put on her are no longer on her feet. Remember seeing Hannah Grace taking off Chloe’s socks during one of the visits to her room when she was lying half-naked on her floor. Go find Chloe’s socks.

8:25: Put on Chloe’s shoes. Begin to clean up aluminum foil and dog food mess Chloe made previously.

8:30: Give the five-minute warning announcing that breakfast is over soon. Gather toothbrushes and toothpaste.

8:35: Announce breakfast is over, and tell kids to put their bowls in the sink. Get bookbags and jackets off of hooks hanging by the door. (I’m really impressing myself with all of this organization)

8:37: Notice that no one has stopped eating; fall into panic mode. Announce loudly that all bowls need to go in the sink

8:38: Caleb takes a last drink of milk and spills half of it down his shirt. Hannah Grace grabs her bowl off of the table and spills all of her remaining milk on the floor. Think to myself that whoever came up with the saying “There’s no use crying over spilt milk” didn’t clean up spilt milk every day.

8:40: Caleb, Hannah Grace, and I clean up spilt milk.

8:45: Everyone brushes teeth. I grab Chloe and tell everyone to grab jackets and backpacks and head to the car. Then I notice two children who don’t have on shoes. (Didn’t we already put on shoes?)

8:50: Kids put on their shoes

8:55: Once again, tell kids to grab jackets and backpacks and head out door with strict orders to go straight to car seats and buckle up.

8:55 and 30 seconds: Hannah Grace stops and says, “Oh, look! Leaves!” and begins to waste time admiring the leaves on the ground.

8:58: Finish buckling Chloe who has decided she no longer likes being confined by a car seat. She perfects the ‘stiff-as-a-board’ body position. Get ready to pull out of driveway. Look in rearview mirror and see unbuckled daughter in the back seat.

9:00: Begin buckling oldest daughter in the back who then has tantrum because she wants to buckle herself (except she didn’t from 8:55-9:00).

9:03: Leave for preschool (Carpool runs from 9:00–9:10)

9:09: Arrive at carpool. Kiss children goodbye with clenched jaw and open door for teacher to get them. Teacher notifies me we are missing a backpack.

9:10: My brain explodes, and then I head home to get a certain little girl’s backpack.

My Allergy

I was in a bad mood for two-and-a-half days straight, and I blame my mood completely on one ill-conceived plan by my well-meaning husband.

It was Saturday, and I had said that perhaps we could go to this furniture consignment store that Matt had driven past the other day. I wanted to see if they had any inexpensive furniture for my quest to reorganize the playroom. What I meant was that I wanted to go to this furniture consignment store in my quest for furniture to reorganize the playroom. Then I wanted to come home. What Matt heard was, “Blah blah blah blah furniture blah blah blah playroom blah blah blah.” He came up with the brilliant idea to breakfast at Ikea and then traverse the store for ideas.

“Big deal!” you say. Yes, it is a big deal. Perhaps I should enlighten you with a very important tidbit of information about myself: I despise shopping. I literally have physical reactions to shopping. I can remember in high school shopping for homecoming dresses in multiple stores and having to sit down next to a rack of dresses so that I wouldn’t pass out. Nearly every Christmas season, I get faint and dizzy and have to sit down (probably because the temperature of the stores is 107 degrees). I get pounding headaches. I get crabby. Very crabby. And I start to dislike people.

I didn’t date a lot, but if ever a boy suggested roaming around the mall as a date, that would have been our last. I am sure that sometime in the course of the evening I would have blurted out, “You’re stupid,” merely because I am allergic to shopping, and my allergy causes me to become very mean.

I don’t like looking for great deals or shopping at stores with clothes thrown all over the place. I like neat. I like clean. I don’t like to search. I like to walk into a store and immediately walk out with my purchase. If I go to hell, I will be placed in a mall and told to window shop for eternity. My allergy is a pain, and I hope a researcher develops a shot or something someday.

So when Matt suggested Ikea, my heart started beating at an irregular rhythm. I know I’m supposed to love Ikea–it’s its own amazing little country–but I hate Ikea. First of all, I rarely like any of their furniture, (I have discussed previously that I am not cool or trendy, so their stuff just doesn’t do it for me) so the thought of walking around a store that is the size of a little country just to search for ideas makes me want to poke a pencil through my eyeball.

I know I’m supposed to love Ikea–it’s kid friendly! It is extremely kid friendly–they even have their own little daycare; however, I’m not comfortable leaving my children with people I don’t know, so we end up dragging them around with us. Yes, Ikea has bottle warmers, extra diapers, baby food, family changing rooms, and a family parking lot, but none of that changes the fact that the layout of their store is a non-shopper’s nightmare! And therein lies the problem.

In their evil-genius marketing plan, Ikea has planned their store so that everyone must walk in the same direction through each little department until reaching the end and thus being given the chance to exit the maze. A person can’t simply jump to the bedroom area; that person must walk the maze through the preceding departments first.

Unless, of course, that person is part of the Davis family. Then that person would have somehow started at the end of the store in the children’s area and then decided to walk in the opposite direction of the arrows on the floor with three children, struggling like a family of trout swimming upstream, doing his best to avoid the onslaught of people walking the right way. For most of the trip I kept imploring Matt, “PLEASE…why can’t we walk in the same direction as everyone else?!” But evil Ikea didn’t plan simple turn-around points. There is no turn-around. One must walk the whole store if one wants to turnaround. And that wasn’t happening.

Keeping up with our children in this kid-friendly store was a nightmare. All of the kid rooms were super cute, and of course, our children wanted to jump on every bed, read every book, and travel through the little tunnels connecting one room to the next. Yes, there were holes in the walls, and we kept losing our children through them. And the random streamers hanging from the ceiling that had some sort of electro-magnetic field that children were highly susceptible of falling victim to–we lost our kids to those, as well.

While I was prepared for the challenges of kid rooms with beds and toys all available for kids to touch and try out, I wasn’t prepared for sofa after sofa after sofa leading to sofas that were somehow anchored to the wall. Performing an amazing leap reminiscent of my gymnastics days, I managed to catch hold of the leg of one of my children before she successfully mounted this red couch hanging from the ceiling. I also managed to smash my shin against the bottom rail of one of the floor couches in the process. I think I hit the most important nerve in my body, causing my shin, foot, and back of my thigh all to throb.

So even though Ikea had a special where we could deduct our lunch (yes, lunch; we were one minute late for breakfast and thus had to pay $4.99 a plate instead of $1.99) total from our purchase of $100 or more, we left empty-handed. We were just getting ‘ideas’ that day. Yeah, I came up with a few ideas on that trip, but I’ll save them for myself.

As I hobbled to the car, Matt announced that we were going to Pottery Barn Kids at the mall to get more ideas, and I swear I went into anaphylaxis shock. I would have paid more attention to the hives had my leg not hurt so darn badly. So on we went to another store where we would leave empty-handed but full of ideas and more symptoms of an allergic reaction. And for good measure, Matt took me to Target, too. Finally, we ended the day with a fifteen minute stop at a certain furniture consignment store.

We got home at five o’clock that evening, and my allergic reaction lasted until the middle of Monday.

My apologies to Ikea. You really do have an impressive and innovative store. If it weren’t for my condition, I’m sure I would love it.