Magic

Just a few days ago was the first showing of Elf (yes, the Christmas movie) at my house. I know it's a little early in October for that, but I love the magic feeling that Christmas brings. I had so much fun watching with the kids and the hubby, laughing and remembering what Christmas felt like when I was younger. I think most people reach an age or a time when they wonder, What ever happened to that "Christmas Spirit" feeling I had as a kid? 


We try to calculate a formula as to what exactly it was that brought it out. Put in the Bing Crosby record, find that one scented candle you remember, set out homemade nativities from grade school. One year after we had grown, my siblings and I actually broke into a fight about what garland to put on the tree and what music counts as Christmas music--my Beach Boys Christmas music did not make the list.

It's that magical feeling, where did it go? I smell hints of it when I am with my kids, when they smile at me because they know they just did something impressive, or when they sing a new song. When my husband sees that I need a break and takes me away from it all for just a little while, even though I feel like I really don't deserve it at the time, that feeling comes back. Like getting a present in the mail from an uncle, my family is a surprise that I wasn't expecting.

When God saw his people suffering a long time ago, he came down here himself, even though he was a god. He came to give us all something we longed for, love. Love that we don't feel like we really deserve. He even took the time to guide us while he was here. For three years he told us things to help us live healthier, happier lives, kind of like an uncle. God showed us what it means to be family, what love is supposed to look like.

Now when I look for that magic feeling, I look to my kids, to my husband, and to my God. Love is the reason for the season. And we can spread that feeling to others by showing love. But, of course, it doesn't hurt to turn on Elf and decorate the tree to help the kids get that magical feeling, too. : D

Clever

When my mom was reading me a picture book not terribly long ago, we met a character called "The Clever Fox." Of course I asked her what it meant to be clever, and I believe she said it meant "smart and sneaky". Now, sneaky doesn't always have to be bad, it can also lend the ability to catch others off guard or simply surprise them. This is something I am being reminded on a fairly regular basis, especially this year.

In the hospital three years ago, when they handed me my son, he looked me straight in the eye and seemed to size me up. Oh no! I thought, he's already smarter than me! I hadn't expected this so soon! I did prepare myself for the possibility that my children would grow up and go to school longer than me or be wiser in some way, or perhaps outsmart me a time or two. But starting from birth?! No! How would I ever train him up to be a good person if he could outsmart me from birth?! I think that before becoming a mother, I assumed that the child would already know who was boss when he or she arrived. Not so! (all parents please stop laughing!) Every child hits phases where they try different things to see what works, but beware, it is not just a phase, it will stay until you sweep it out. Some kids push harder than others, each using his or her most talented method, be it cleverness, tantrums, or I didn't hear you. I don't have any recommendations for anybody aside from get to know your child.

My son is going to be an actor. Early on we taught him to do happy and sad faces, mad and surprised faces.  My favorite is when he pretends to be cold and has some convincing shivers. I'm starting to rethink my encouragement on this activity! Today, when my son seemed so sad and pitiful that I almost gave in, I noticed how he seemed to be watching me behind the frown, twitching cheeks and downward glances. I looked him in the eye and said, "that's a pretty good sad face." He looked up and smiled his proudest smile. Haha! He's three! We in the adult world don't give enough credit to these youngest children, their intelligence, quickness and cleverness. It should be obvious, they learn to speak a foreign language starting at age one!

We had a cookout tonight, ending in ice cream cones. After making my boy finish his hot dog bun and handing him a cone, I set the open box of ice cream right next to him. (duh, mom!) This kid would lick the ice cream out of the cone and not eat the cone--a sticky process.  Well this irritated me, so I explained how he should be eating it, and then went to put the hot dog buns away only to find in the bag a wadded up half-bun with ketchup smeared in it. "Ugh! We'll let it pass tonight, since we're having so much fun," I say to my husband.

Then, noticing my son had more ice cream in his cone, perplexed, my hubby laughs. "He's using his cone as a scoop!"

Never underestimate the cleverness of kids!

From the Moon

My baby girl is walking and trying to run all over now.  I call this second year, The Year of Perpetual Head Bruises.  It never fails, as soon as one dent heals, another takes its place, if not before.  She comes running to me after the pavement makes its mark and wants to be squeezed.  I try to squeeze out all the pain, but in reality, me hugging her will do nothing for the pain.  But alas, it does help her to feel better.  

Right now, in this dirty world full of selfishness and carelessness, people are getting hurt.  It is a time of perpetual pain.  Yes, there are good times, too, like as soon as I set my baby down she takes off running happily again.  And of course, life is easier or harder for different people in different situations.  But while we are here, bad and horrible things will happen.  During those times, we need to run to our comforter for a squeeze.

For you've been a safe place for me, a good place to hide.  Strong God, I'm watching you do it, I can always count on you God, my dependable love.  

Psalms 59:17

Lots of different religions and philosophies encourage meditating, clearing the mind, or even just taking a break from whatever is bothersome.  But nothing beats just sitting quietly next to a good friend.  For some reason, God has not whisked us away to heaven yet, where there are no tears, but until then, he is there to hold our hand (or toss a football, if you prefer) to help us make it through.  I often imagine myself sitting with God on the moon, looking down on the frail world we live in.  Escaping from time and space, as if it is only a memory.  I only need a few minutes with a Good Friend to take a break, get a hug, then say, ok, it's time to jump back in.

A Mind of My Own

My son is my sweetheart.  He can be caught doing nice things for me like setting the table, finding his jacket, and putting his trucks away.  He's three years old and he loves to help.  Just a couple days ago, he and I woke up earlier than normal along with his little sister, who recently learned to walk.  We have a rather lengthy bathroom routine in the morning and I am usually last, of course.  So when I came out of the bathroom, I heard my boy shouting, "No, baby!  You will fall!  No!  You will fall!"  Panicked, I ran to the kitchen to find the baby sitting at the top of sixteen stairs with Big Brother pushing her the other way.  The door by the stairs had been left open the night before and in my sleepy haze I hadn't thought to check it before letting the kids loose in the house.  So I thanked him profusely and called him a hero.  When his dad woke up he said, "Daddy, I'm a superhero!"

All that being said, you'll also note that he is three, which means that in the last six months has acquired a mind of his own.  He has things he wants to do and is adapting to my methods of preventing him from doing them.  He also has his own toys that his sister should never touch, some of these toys happen to be hers.  It is a constant learning process for all of us, this "thinking on his own" thing.  But I always tell him, "I love you so much, and I will always love you no matter what you do or what happens."  It does not matter what horrible thing he could do or get into, I will still love him with the same intensity that I do now.  Now, I will grieve for what he is doing, if it is hurting himself or others, but I will still love him and will always welcome him home and take him in when he needs it..  My greatest fear is that something terrible could happen to him (or his sister, of course), and when he is naughty, I am afraid he is heading down the path of bad decisions, which would eventually mean self-harm.

In the same way, we are all God's children.  I don't mean all Evangelists or all Methodists, or even all Christians.  He made all of us and wants the best for all of us, no matter how far we run in the other direction or blatantly disregard his rules that he set to keep us safe (don't jump on the couch, don't hit your sister, don't drink rubbing alcohol).  But he did offer us the option of not accepting him.  I really really don't want my son to say, "Mom, I'm moving to Australia because I hate you and I never want to see you again."  It would absolutely just kill me if he did that, but I would have to let him.  He is a person separate from me with a mind of his own.  But you had better believe that the moment he returns to the States, shows up at my house and asks for a hug or just a handshake, I sure the heck would let him.

God loves us as his own children.  He will always, always take us in, no matter what.  Even if all we are ready for right now is a handshake, God will take us up on that.

Mark 2:13-17 (The Message Bible)
Later Jesus and his disciples were at home having supper with a collection of disreputable guests.  Unlikely as it seems, more than a few of them had become his followers.  The religion scholars and Pharisees saw him keeping this kind of company and lit into his disciples: "What kind of example is this, acting cozy with the riffraff?"


Jesus, overhearing, shot back, "Who needs a doctor: the healthy or the sick?  I'm here inviting the sin-sick, not the spiritually-fit."

Baby Steps to the Bond

My husband found a book just for him when we learned we were expecting our first.  The New Father, by Armin A. Brott had lots of interesting information on a dad's perspective when it comes to the first year of baby's life.  One insight in particular was a huge eye-opener for me:

My Baby Doesn't Love Me
For about the first six to eight weeks of life, you're baby won't give you much feedback on how you're doing as a father: he won't smile, laugh, or react to you in any noticeable way.  In fact, just about all he will do is cry.  This can result in your feeling unloved and, surprisingly often, feeling a need to "get even" with the baby by deliberately withholding your own love.  


As the grown-up, it's your job to nip this destructive cycle in the bud...


I guess I've just taken for granted that newborns generally are more comforted by mother.  From a dad's perspective, it probably would look a lot like favoritism or even hatred for him.  I can't imagine how horrible that must feel!  Now I understand a bit better the aloofedness some dads can have toward their kids.  It just hurts too much to stare it in the face.

In the book, Brott goes on to say that babies at this stage are not capable of showing love.  May I take it a step further and say that they are incapable of feeling love?  Babies want to be comfortable.  Anything can upset that: hunger, wetness, temperature, etc.  Even smells make the list.  Baby has been with Mom for nine months more than Dad already, so it really isn't fair.  They want to hear Mom and smell Mom because that's comfortable, that's their "normal."  Dads have to start from ground zero.

However, it's still a lot like any other relationship.  Reach out to shake hands and awkwardly introduce yourself.  Admit it, even you are uncomfortable with a new person.  Like with anyone, adults, kids, and now this strange new crying thing, you have to take the first step to obviously show that you like/love them in order for them to be comfortable around you.  Once you get past the first few months of "getting to know you," I think you'll find that kids will latch on to anyone who is willing to talk to them or even get on the floor to play.

As a side note, I think this confusion can happen with moms, too.  In the same chapter, Brott points out, "If you havn't established an instant bond with your baby, there's absolutely nothing wrong with you.  In fact, in a study by Kay Robson and Remesh Kumar, 25 to 40 percent of new parents--mothers and fathers--admitted that their first response to the baby was 'indifference.' "  When I first met my kids, I thought they were beautiful.  It was not until after endless horrible screaming nights and lengthy days of feeding and cuddling, that I could say I felt a strong bond.  These things take time and work and pressing on.  To that I say, perhaps there is a greater purpose to all that crying.

This ad from Suave can bring tears of joy, stress, and understanding.  I loved it before I became a Mom and now I love it more!  I do use Suave, by the way.

I Know What I'm Doing

On a park outing a few weeks ago, I came upon a woman who seemed to have a bit of magic up her sleeve.  She was thin, fashionable, smiling, and not constantly yelling orders to her five children.  Not five like, first she had three, then 6 years later decided to have a couple more.  She had in her double stroller a new sleeping infant, a not-so-terrible two, and on the playground playing nicely were a four-year-old, 5-year-old, and 7-year-old.  This is my chance!  I thought.  I'm going to glean from this woman any advice she's willing to share.

I started up a conversation and eventually said, "My two-year-old has started talking back and saying things like 'Don't you talk to me like that, Mom.' "  I laughed like this is some kind of great joke and she just smiled and noded. "Did you ever deal with that at all?"  I pushed a little further.  

"Yeah."  Then she helped a child with a swing and came back.  Conversation ended.

Nothing!  It's almost as if she didn't want to step on my toes.  But it's true, most moms take offense at any advice no matter how simple or complex. 

It is so overwhelming when that first child is born, everyone else has their idea of how you should raise it.  And everyone's idea is completely different, yet unwavering in confidence.  Why is that?  How can there be so many ways to correctly raise a child?  Well obviously there aren't.  My way is the correct way, the only way, and everybody else is off their rocker.  Am I right?  I think that every parent has to believe this, in order to make it through and maintain some semblance of sanity.  If I don't believe that I know what I'm doing, then I will break down into tears for fear of failing my child.  

We are forced to be strong and carry on.  So, for the sake of parents everywhere, if you ever run into a new parent who is downing coffee and won't admit that their child doesn't sleep at night, just smile warmly and say "You're doing a good job.  It does get easier."