The bug we just can't squash

This is how some boy or another has looked around my house ever since Christmas. It seems the secret of health and vitality has escaped me. Trip after trip to the pediatrician, co-pay after co-pay (that man must have a house on the Rivera now, thanks to us!) yet no real answers. "These things ping pong back and forth a lot" and "You'll just have to keep the fever down with Motrin and wait it out" are the most common answers to my frantic calls,

as I get yet another reading on the thermometer of 103 degrees or higher.

Ethan is the most recently afflicted. We just got Kaleb almost A-okay, and Ian isn't doing too grand, I don't think he is far behind his twin in this most recent battle with the big bad bug.

They are missing a lot of fun this summer feeling icky. Nasty coughs, high fevers and body aches have become a normal part of life for them.

As their mother, I am discouraged, exhausted, and SCARED! How do I keep my sanity during this trial? For starters,

James 1:2

"...count it all joy when ye fall into diverse temptations."

This verse gets me to thinking. You know, we really are blessed beyond measure even in the midst of hardship. We have much to "count it all joy" about. If it weren't for the blessing of awesome health insurance, that copay I was complaining about would hurt much worse! We have access to countless doctors and specialist, living less than an hour from several big name hospitals. The boys are all talking, and playing, and feeling badly truly is not the end of the world. My prayer is that this season of feeling icky will teach them valuable lessons. Lessons such as compassion, patience, and perseverance. Maybe even lessons in how to count it all joy!

Not-so "Grand" Theft Auto

Our busy day ended with all my handsome guys getting their hair cut.
It was the twins' first ever! No more curls for Ethan!

Yesterday was a day filled with fun and adventure for three very special little boys. Our day started out at Mickey D's, climbing and crawling through the play equipment awaiting Daddy's phone call that he was ready to be picked up from the doctor.

From there, we stopped by the MVA "real quick." No such luck! Upon hearing that the wait would be anywhere from 1 -3 hours, (ended up being closer to 31/2) the boys and I left Daddy to wait once again, and headed out on the town. The trick was to find fun things to do to keep them occupied, yet close enough to the MVA to pick David up as soon as he called. We went to a couple of different parks, shopped in Target, (where we splurged on this awesome wadding pool, and all the little toys and trinkets to go with it),

and then ended up at this darling little toy store in Bel Air called Tiddlywinks. The boys were eager to redeem their free jelly bean coupon, given as incentive to complete the library's summer reading program. (Yes, the little ones can participate, they only have to be read to!)

It was our first visit into the new little store, and the four of us just stood in awe for a moment before the boys ran of to explore the glorious playroom awaiting them in the back. http://www.tiddlywinkstoys.com/

The minutes flew by in that exotic realm of new and exciting play-things, so much so, that we felt as if we had just entered when we received that long awaited ring of the cell phone. It was David. It was time to go! Not willing to make my beloved wait any longer, I said thank you to the store owner for the jelly beans, and quickly buckled the boys in the stroller, all while super Kaleb was on super fast clean-up duty.

Imagine my horror when, upon returning home, I opened the candy bag to find a tiny plastic car! Kaleb was immediately questioned, and admitted to seeing the car at the store, but he did not take it. Apparently, it was wrapped tightly in one of the twin's little fist as we were doing our lighting-fast dash out of the store.

Nothing in me wanted to return to that store today. It is located right on main street, and I oh-so loathe parallel parking. However, try as I might to justify keeping the trivial trinket, my conscience wouldn't let me pass over this important learning opportunity. So I let out a deep sigh, and picked up the phone to let them know we were on our way. The boys and I had a long talk about the importance of not taking things that don't belong to us, and I realized that because of this little inconvenience, we may have been able to instill a lesson that will prevent one of them from deciding to purposefully steal something shiny one day when they are older. For this blessed opportunity, I am truly thankful. I realize that it is the little things such as this that make my life truly blessed beyond measure.

I scream, you scream

Imagine if you will a glorious farm land, filled with acre upon acre of woods, wide open fields, and countless old buildings bursting with adventure. There were hay bails to jump, corn silos to climb, tractors to ride, a stream to swim in, even cattle to chase!

Yes, I grew up in a child's paradise. Often are the times when my mind's eye will wonder back down memory lane, leaving me feeling a bit saddened by all the blessed experiences my offspring will never be able to share. There is, however, one thing that "city life" has to offer that old farm house never did. (okay, okay, so we are no where near the city, but compared to the farm, it sure feels like it!) The ice cream truck! What a thrill to my soul to watch my children's eyes light up when they hear that all familiar jingle way in the distance. To see the anticipation build as they listen intently throughout the day, hoping to hear just a note or two in some neighboring development, giving them hope that he is on his way.

As we sat on the steps tonight, ice cream dripping down all of their faces, me just as sticky as they from the task of trying desperately to keep their prized treats off the ground, I reveled in their smiles. I smiled too. I was thinking "Hmm, maybe this 'city life' isn't so bad after all!"

Put to good use - not just for marigolds anymore!

"Keep Harford county beautiful." What an accurate little slogan for our ever growing yet still rural little area. We are blessed to have everything here that a family raising small children could want. Rolling green hills, plentiful playgrounds, huge libraries, Chuck E. Cheese, every fast food chain imaginable, recreation centers by the handfuls.

Obviously, most days the fact that our tiny claim to this bountiful land happens to be a townhouse with practically no yard, really is not a problem. We simply load up the minivan and head out on another adventure. We certainly have enough parks and playgrounds to choose from.

However, there are days like today, when loading up the minivan is just not practical. These are the moments when we miss having a yard for the boys to run around in.

The past two days have been spent stuck inside the house awaiting the departure of the latest virus from our humble home. (This time, it is Kaleb afflicted with the icky cough and freakishly high fever) He is feeling a tad more like himself, but still not well enough to go running around a park, and I am certainly not convinced that he is no longer contagious, so there is also the goal of keeping him away from other people's little precious. (Which is no easy tasks, considering all the neighborhood little girls who beat down my door every day asking if he can come out and play)

Alas, the boy needed some fresh air, we all did. It is for just such occasions that I keep a full flower bed. No, not full of beautiful pink roses and golden marigolds like all the neighbors. No, our flower beds are full... of dump trucks! (and other miscellaneous plastic digging equipment. )Nothing can entertain three little boys longer than sitting around digging in the dirt together.

Seeing the three of them out there this morning, little ones covered head to toe in dirt, all three grinning ear to ear, I couldn't help but to bow my head and whisper a "thank you" to my heavenly Father - I am truly blessed beyond measure.

Night Sky Breakfast!

(pictured: Ian)

yummy star shaped honey biscuits

Having the doctor "prescribe" honey as the main treatment plan for Kaleb's chronic cough is a dream come true to him. All I heard from him yesterday was how much he couldn't wait to use some of that honey we originally bought for purely medicinal purposes as a sweet breakfast treat. Below is what I came up with.

As with most kid - friendly meals, this is amazingly simple and easy. It is also a universe of fun!

Step 1: Prepare Bisquick "homemade" biscuit dough according to package directions.

Step 2: Use a star -shaped cookie cutter instead of a round glass to cut biscuit shapes.

Step 3: Bake only about 6 or 7 minutes. (package says 8, but that's a tad too long for the stars) Allow to cool.

Step 4: with a sharp knife, drill a small hole in the top of each star, going down at least halfway.

Step 5: slowly fill with honey

Step 6: Serve on a dark blue plate, with a banana or eggs placed to look like the moon, and various other fruit garnishes to complete the "night sky" motif. (a raspberry for mars, blueberries for Neptune and Pluto, blackberries for asteroids, etc..) Yummy!

*Please Note: Honey is not recommended for children under age 2. (per our pediatrician) I suggest filling the stars of little ones with pureed blueberries, fruit jam or mashed bananas. My two littlest ones loved theirs plain... they each ate two and a half of them!

I predict a future full of sonshine (the impact of seeing my shadow before the sun rise)

This morning began like every other, with my alarm clock beckoning me from the arms of my beloved at five minutes of four, way before dawn's early light. Just as I had finally fumbled around enough to find that snooze button, there was an unusual occurrence. Kaleb, who is typically a very heavy sleeper, was calling out to me.
Fearing he was sick (usually the only reason he'd awake so early) I forgot all about my desire to snooze and flew into his room.
I found my little man sitting up on his bunk bed, wide eyed and bushy tailed, eager to tell me all about the dream he just had about a super cool fast train. Try as might to convince him that there were still a couple of hours left of good train dreams, my little shadow insisted on staying up to "help" me with my morning routine.
Off we go, downstairs to start the day. I fix my tea and toast, and heat him up some apple juice to go with his toast. Then we snuggle up to the table and open my brand new pink and brown, soft leather bible that was a birthday gift from David last month. The pink satin bookmark is resting on the story of Moses, admonishing the children of Israel for worshipping the golden calf while he was on the mount receiving the ten commandments. This is one of Kaleb's favorite stories (he loves destroying things, so the whole crushing the calf into powder, and throwing the tablets down to break them into pieces really floats his boat) he was enraptured in the scripture. We had a nice chat about sin and consequence, and I was quite pleased with the amount of detail he remembered from the last time we discussed this story.
Alas, the time for rest and prayer was over, and we moved to the basement so mommy could work up a sweat on the treadmill and elliptical machines. Making conversation as I prepared his cartoons and got my sneakers on, I causally stated "It was pretty cool that you got to see what Mommy does in the mornings before you wake up, huh?"
His reply caused a chain of emotions that has greatly impacted my parenting. He smiled simply and said: "Yes, mommy. I want to do the same thing every morning when I'm all grown up!"
My first reaction was to be filled with pride. I really thought I had done something wonderful, having instilled in my son the desire to begin his day with the word of God, and to take care of his body with exercise.
Then reality hit me. That pride turned to embarrassment, then quickly to terror.

For if he wanted imitate the "good" things that he saw me do, what else would he see me do today that he might also want to imitate?
Will I try to bury my frustration at fussy babies this afternoon by sneaking into the pantry and mindlessly stuff my face with junk food, when I should be bowing my head to ask my Lord for strength?
Will he watch as I groan and force a half-hearted smile at Wal*Mart, as the fifth person just today approaches me with a coy grin to remind me to say "my, you've got your hands full", or "better you than me." when I should be using each one of those opportunities to share Christ?
What will happen when I come into my bedroom this morning to put away laundry, and hear the computer calling my name? Will I quickly check my email and respond to what's important, or will I invest way too much time into the posts of my friends on Policewives.org, while the three little lives I should be investing that time in are eagerly awaiting my attention?
They say that if the groundhog sees his Shadow on groundhog day, we will have 6 more weeks of winter. What can happen if a mother sees her little shadows each day? What will happen if I spend my days remembering that there are innocent eyes watching every move I make?
Its well and fine for a young boy to see his mother reading the bible. That's great. However, what is going to really impact his life, what would really make my life worth imitating, is if he can see me living the bible.
I want my children's futures to be full of sonshine. As of today, thanks to my wonderful little Shadow, this verse will have new meaning in my life:

"But be ye doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving your own selves... But whoso looketh into the perfect law of liberty, and continueth therein, he being not a forgetful hearer, but a doer of the work, this man shall be blessed in his deed."

James 1:22, 25

The moment I just knew...

It was a balmy evening late in the summer of 2001. I was outside getting some fresh air (no air conditioning at the farm, you know!) gazing up at the stars, and chatting on the phone with a young man with whom I was becoming increasingly smitten.
He was school teacher, and today was the first day of school. The excitement in his voice as he talked about his students was intoxicating. He had so much enthusiasm, so much passion for these kids, most of whom he had only met for the first time today. As he began to talk about his plans to encourage these students in their walk with Christ (did I mention he was finding ways to do this as he taught Algebra??) there was only one thing going through my mind:
"This is the man that I want to be the father of my children." It was an almost audible voice, so loud that it practically drowned out my beloved.
Today, as the mother of three wonderful little boys that this man has sired, I have become fully aware of why the Lord chose him to be their daddy.
One of the biggest challenges I face as a mother of boys, is teaching them that their masculinity is to be celebrated. How do you teach that in modern culture? TV dads are portrayed as oafs, every television commercial, cartoon movie, even popular music portrays men in general as fumbling, bumbling idiots. That is not God's plan for their manhood, and don't ever want them to think that it is. Praise the Lord that they have such a wonderful example of true masculinity in their strong, intelligent, protective, and loving daddy! What an amazing model of their heavenly Father he truly is!
I want to take this opportunity to give a big shout out to two other important examples of true masculinity my boys have. My own wonderful daddy, and my also very wonderful father - in -law. What a blessing that our boys have not one, but two Pop Pops to teach them how to be proud of the dirt-eating, snake loving, wild-hearted creation that they were created in the image of God himself to be!

They really are listening! (A blessing from Ethan)

Within the hustle and bustle of each hectic day, (and with a home-schooled four year old and twin one year olds, believe me they're all hectic!)
There are two main points that I strive to to instill in the heart of each one of my boys. At some point during each day, I try to get alone with each of them for just a second to say:
1. Jesus loves you.
and...
2. God has a special plan and purpose for your life.
Most of the time, this little bit of motherly wisdom is met with a look of "whatever, mom" as a boy wiggles away to find a matchbox or a dump truck to reek havoc with.
During our bedtime devotion this evening, however, I was reminded of just how important it is that I continue to strive never to forget to remind them of those two important truths.
We read John 1:3 "All things were made by Him, without Him was not anything made that was made." I went around the room asking: so Kaleb, who made the dogs and cats? Ian, who made the sky? etc.. etc.. Fully expecting that the twins (who at not quite 15 months have a pretty extensive vocabulary, but still do not talk very much) so I was expecting that they would not answer.
I got to Ethan, and asked: "Ethan, who made you?" He flashed me that same killer smile in the picture, and while grinning ear to ear, exclaimed "JESUS!" Loud, clear and with a certain confidence that told me that really knew. I mean, deep down in his heart KNEW that Jesus made him, and loves him.
If I have accomplished nothing else today, my heart has been truly blessed above measure!