theboys

Normal

Here's how you know your boys are slightly abnormal 5 and 7 year olds:

 

They talk about Heaven in everyday conversation.

 

Here's how you know your boys are just like every other boy in the world:

They say things like:

Isaac:  What if the very first toot blew up the whole world?

Asher: Yeah.  Then we'd all be in Heaven where there are no toots, farts, burps, or barfs.

 

 

I don't know about you but my understanding of Heaven is stretched all the time from my boys!  I can't wait!

"Saxy"

I think it's well known, now, that I don't want to be an over-protective parent.

I can handle the occasional trip to the hospital, but I do not want to take any risks when it comes to my boys' innocence.  I take that seriously.

A few months ago, we had an incident with a neighbor boy who told my boys to go try out a certain sexual act.  I was mortified and heartbroken that that innocence was robbed from my boys.  I was even more concerned how this seven year old  became aware of this information in the first place.  I feared abuse gave him the knowledge of that activitiy.  But I also considered the mere relay of information as abuse to my kids.

Another neighbor talked to this boy's mom and she didn't seem concerned with the situation.

When Asher told me what this boy told him, I did not have the appropriate response.  According to all the parenting articles I've read, when your kid says a bad word or does something inappropriate to get your attention, you're supposed to ignore them, or have a very mild reaction and just tell them, "That's inappropriate, don't say that again."

So when Isaac and Asher came inside from playing and Asher blurted out, "Guess what 'So-and-So' told me to do..." My first response was: 

"GASP!  WHAT?  He said WHAT?"  (think Schwartz's mom on the phone in The Christmas Story)  I made Asher repeat himself and Isaac concurred, yes, that's what the kid said.

I got my wits about me and calmly responded, "Well, that is a very inappropriate thing to say.  I hope I never hear you repeat that to anyone else," and then went about fixing dinner.

I didn't know what to do.  I didn't want to draw any attention to the phrase they just repeated to me.  I wanted them to forget it completely and never mention it again.  But I also needed to go back to them and to thank them for coming and telling me; to tell them that they can always tell me the things they hear on the playground.  I also needed to remind them about how to keep their bodies safe and what is appropriate behavior when it comes to their body.  So, we came back to that conversation before bedtime that night.

I prayed for a long time that my boys would completely forget the words they were told.  And the neighbor boy moved away just a couple of weeks later, so I don't fear that more information or inappropriate situations will come from that boy. But the whole thing really upset me, and I pray with all my heart that my boys were not changed from that experience. 

I decided that day that our boys would be home schooled and they'd never leave the house again.

But we can't protect our kids from these situations forever.

Sex is everywhere they go, everything they see, and hear in public.  You can't drive down the street without seeing billboards.  You can't flip through the radio stations without hearing an inappropriate song.

 

This six year old boy was suspended for telling a girl, "I'm sexy and I know it." He was just repeating a song he'd heard.  My boys sing that song around the house all the time.  I have never played it in my house or car, but I wonder if it was played in gym class or by some friend.  The other day, Asher pulled his short legs up, making his pants look the shape of underwear, and told me, "Hey Mom, I'm saxy and I know it." I've been telling my boys that I don't like that song and asking them not to sing it around the house.  But you know how catchy songs are.  They stick in your head.

I've been waiting for my boys to ask me what "sexy" means.  I've tried to come up with some appropriate answers but they haven't asked.  So, when Asher brought my attention to the song, I told him he doesn't even know what "Saxy" means.  He pulled his pant legs back up, exposing his pasty white thighs and said, "This is saxy!"  Apparently our fourth grade neighbor told him that.

Later on I heard Isaac correcting Asher, "It's sexy.  Not saxy."  Asher stuck to his guns and said, "Nope, it's saxy." 

It's funny to talk about, but not when I'm having to deal with it in real time.  I know the American Academy of Pediatrics is advising parents to talk about sex from birth.  We don't want it to be a taboo topic that my boys don't ask us about because then they'll get all their information from their friends.  But we also aren't going to explain the birds and the bees to our first grader.  It's all about appropriate timing and appropriate amounts of sharing.  

When I thought about talking about puberty and sex with my boys, I always assumed that would be Randall's job.  He's the man of the house, he can talk to my boys about that stuff.  But these situations just pop up unexpectedly and Randall's not always around.  In fact, Randall's out working most of the time my boys are awake.  So, I'm going to need to be better prepared next time I have to answer a question or respond to a similar situation.  

Ugh.  Just another difficult and subjective task a parent has to navigate.  Any advice is welcomed!

I just feel so inadequate some days.  

 

 

God, I do not want to screw up my kids more than I already have.  Please give me wisdom and discernment when it comes to navigating how to talk about sex with my kids.  Please protect their innocence until they are emotionally ready.  Please protect them from abuse, physically or verbally that will take away the innocence they have left.

Overheard

Asher:  Mom!  Isaac just jumped off the deck, but he's not hurt!

Mom: [Open mouth stare]

Isaac: [enters through the garage door]  

Mom: Isaac Benjamin, come here.

Isaac: [trying (not too hard) to hide a smile.]  What?

Mom:  Did you just jump off of the deck?

Isaac: Yes!

Mom: On purpose?  Or did you fall off?

Isaac: On purpose, but I slid down the rail and hanged from the deck and then dropped.

Mom: Was that a wise decision?

Isaac: Yes!  It was awesome!

 

 

I was speechless, so I just laughed at him and told him we were calling his father (because that's what you call your dear husband when his kid does something stupid).  Randall all but congratulated him, but admitted this was not a conversation to have over the phone.

Randall and I talked.  He wants to raise kids that are not afraid to be adventurous.  I want to raise kids that don't know the ER nurses by name.  But again, we're at this tension between safety and adventure.  

We decided that we should commend Isaac for taking a risk, but remind him to always consider the consequences when he decides to endanger himself...  We told him that we were proud of him for assessing the situation and hanging from the deck before he let go the remaining 2-3 feet.  We reminded him that when you choose to jump from the deck, you risk breaking a bone which takes a long time to heal, and even when you decide to hang off the deck, you risk getting splinters.  We told him to always consider all the repercussions before he acts on a chance.  

I want my kids to know that I love them and would rather them always be safe, but I also think there is an important life lesson that comes when your kids are able to make their own mistakes.  It lets them know that parents know best, but also respect you enough to let you decide for yourself.

Please be assured that I know a seven year old is not old enough to decide most things for himself.  But when the possibility is a skinned knee or splinter, I think it's worth a shot for an adventure. I want Isaac to always be able to talk to me about the actions he's considering and the risks he's taking and even the mistakes he's made.  This was our first test to see how we'd react.

The last rule we gave him was to keep it a secret.  We don't want all the neighborhood kids coming over and jumping off our deck.  If your kids come over to play, we will not allow them to participate in risky behavior and we asked Isaac not to tell anyone about the risks he's taking.

Fifteen minutes later, of course, Isaac was pretending to tightrope walk across the top of our 10 foot tall swing set in front of the neighbor kids...

Philippe Petit had absolutely NO FEAR of heights.  This is not the kind of kid I want to raise.  Yes, I want my son to notice beauty and to have adventures, no I don't want him to participate in needless acts of danger.    There is a place for healthy fear!

But I also don't want fear to stop my kids from living an adventurous life.  Asher is already wise enough to learn from others' mistakes, but he doesn't want to take his training wheels off because he's seen the kind of scrapes you get when you fall off your bike...

So how do we as parents walk the tightrope between safety, adventure, and fearlessness?

 

For me, I'm going to take it one day at a time.  When Isaac decides to try to jump off of the roof, I'm going to draw the line and hold my ground!  I'm going to keep praying for my boys.  I have never been a worrier, never like I am when I worry about my boys.  But worrying doesn't help anything.  I will continue to pray each night for their health and safety.  But just like allowing kids to be exposed to germs strengthens their immune system, I'm going to allow my kids to be exposed to risks to strengthen their character.  I pray for protection from harm and protection for their innocence.  

I sincerely question what I would do if something happened to one of my boys.  Because things do happen, even when our kids aren't being daring.  Will I regret this philosophy some day?  Honestly, I don't know.  I can't say.  But for now, I'm going to give my children limits.  I'm going to give them freedoms as well.  And I'm going to give them to God and do the best I can as a parent.

 

 

God, help me to make wise decisions when it comes to parenting my kids.  For my kids, I pray the blessing from Numbers 6:24-26:

‘May the Lord bless you
    and protect you, Isaac and Asher.
 May the Lord smile on you
    and be gracious to you.
 May the Lord show you his favor
    and give you his peace.’

A Boy and his Dog

 

 

Tabby had a bad day this week.  She's acting perfectly normal now and I have high hopes that we'll get another year or so out of our old girl.  I think a dog can find the will to last a few more years when she has someone who loves her like this boy loves his dog.

Grocery Lists

This Boy:

 

Is the love of my life.

 

This Boy: 

is amazingly talented, incredibly wise.  He is trustworthy and dependable in many ways...

 

But one.

 

This boy cannot grocery shop.  

I actually LOVE to go grocery shopping.  When my boys were little, it was an exciting outing.  On the rare chance that I get to go by myself, it is a small respite from the hectic day's work.  On the few occasions that my day has been too crazy to get out, and Randall has very lovingly offered to stop by the store for a few items, it has been less than helpful.

 

Like the time we sent him to the store with a quick list of dinner items needed at the Lake.  I wrote down "1lb ground beef" to make spaghetti.  Misreading my request, he came home with 11 pounds of hamburger meat.

 

So I learned to write clearly and be specific.  One of my notes asked for (in actual quotations) "Pace Mild Chunky Garden Salsa."  Randall came home with "Tostitos Hot Picante Sauce."

He saw the quotation marks and thought I meant something along the lines of "Pace Mild Chunky Garden Salsa."  You know, as if I had rolled my eyes and said to him with air quotes in my low, ironic voice, "Pace Mild Chunky Garden Salsa."

Because that's exactly how I talk about my groceries.

Even when he infuriates me, he makes me laugh.  

No Longer Her Son

As I prepare my heart for Easter I've been reading through all of the Gospel accounts of Jesus' last days before his crucifixion.  Because I am a mother, I can't help but imagine the reality of the situation through Mary's eyes.

 

Here it is, as I imagine it:

 

 

She didn’t even know how she had come to this point.  The beginning was miraculous to say the least.  The old priest, Simeon told her about the prophecies, but that was 33 years ago.  It seems like a long time ago, but it has been such a short time that she had with her son.

 

It was just hours ago that James, her younger son, came flying through the door in the middle of the night announcing that He had just been arrested.  Before she got to him he had been tried, and mocked.  Spit on and beaten.  She saw Pilate order him flogged.  She couldn’t bare to watch as the lead tipped whip thrashed against her son’s bare back, ripping the skin and muscles to shreds.  Maybe that would be punishment enough, maybe Pilate would convince the crowd to set him free.  But still he was sentenced to death; the most humiliating death on a cross.

 

She screamed, she yelled, he was innocent!  More innocent than any human who has ever lived on this earth.  He had done literally NOTHING to deserve punishment, much less death.  And she knew!  She was his mother.  Not once did she need to break out the rod with Jesus.  Not once did he ever disobey.  Not once did he make fun of his brothers, or make them feel inferior to his perfection.  Not once did he retaliate when others ridiculed him and poked fun.  He was PERFECT. 

 

So how did it come to pass that here he was, sentenced to death, beaten, mocked, bruised and bloodied, carrying his own weapon of demise down the streets toward Golgotha?

 

He stumbled, she cried out in pain for her son.  “Someone help him!  Oh God, please, someone help my baby!”  Then someone stepped out.  Removed the blood stained cross beam from his shoulders and helped him up.  “God bless that man, whoever he is.” She prayed.

 

John, Jesus’ closest friend found Mary in the crowd.  He held her up and walked with her to the hill.  She could barely support her own weight from the angst she carried for her son.

 

At nine in the morning, up on the hill that they call “Skull Hill,” a hill she had always avoided and never looked upon for fear of the gruesome events that happened there, her son was nailed to the cross beams and raised up onto the cross.  She watched in horror as her son suffered and struggled to breathe.  It was more than she could bare, she bent over and heaved onto the grass.

 

The soldiers placed bets and rolled dice for his clothes.  Even the thieves dying themselves on the crosses next to Jesus mocked him.  “So you’re the Messiah, are you?  Prove it by saving yourself!”

 

“Yes, Jesus, yes, no one would blame you.  Save yourself.  I know you can.  I believe you are the Messiah.  Show them!” Mary sobbed quietly to her self.  If she could, she would do anything for her baby to stop the pain.  But even she knew that as much as she wanted to take his place and make the sacrifice herself, or let her son live and show his power, it had to be this way.  No other death could do what Jesus’ sacrifice would do: save all of humanity.  It would free us all from the bondage of sin and death.  For our freedom, an innocent man had to die.

 

As blood continued to drip from his forehead, arms, feet, and back, Jesus saw her in the crowd standing beside his friend John.  He knew that her heart was breaking and since her husband had past years before she would need the support of another son.  “Dear Woman, John is your son, now.  John, she is your mother.”  Suddenly Mary realized, that he was no longer her baby.  No longer her son at all.  He was her Savior.   And not just hers, but the Savior of all the world.  It was a heartfelt offer both she, and John, would take.  From now on John would be her son, and Jesus would be her Messiah.

 

Around noon the sky went dark.  The atmosphere mirrored that of her heart.  For three more hours they stood with him.  At three in the afternoon, he cried out, louder that she thought he had energy for, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?!” And then, “It is finished.”

 

And then, Jesus died with his beloved friend and mother in view.  Really, he died with us all in view.  With the weight of all our sin on his shoulders he breathed his last breath and gave up his spirit. 

 

The mocking crowd quieted at his cries.  “Surely this was the Son of God,” one of the soldiers said aloud.  When the ground began to shake, rocks split apart, people could not deny that this was no ordinary man.  The curtain in the Temple separating the holiest of holy places was torn in two from top to bottom in a way that only God, himself, could have done.

 

But that last shout that Jesus uttered rang in the peoples’ ears.  God has abandoned us.  We killed the Messiah.  Even Satan, the Enemy, thought he had won.

 

The Sabbath passed.  A day of rest that should have been celebrated, was a day of mourning.  A day when His followers had felt completely abandoned by their God.  They hid.  They made plans to move on.

 

Then Sunday morning came.  Mary cried all the way there.  She didn’t want to see his lifeless body again.  That bloodied and broken body was not her son.  But she would care for him one last time. She brought spices that she had carefully prepared to the tomb.  But Jesus was not there. Oh no.  He had risen!  Her son, no, her Savior, was healed and whole again.  God had won.  Satan was defeated.   Death was conquered.

 

Because of the sacrifice that Jesus made, grace and freedom now belong to the world.  Grace and freedom from sin, freedom to live life to the fullest potential is ours because He gave his son in the ultimate sacrifice... for me.

 

 

Home

There's this idea floating around the Christian community that this world is not our home.  It's a biblical concept that I think has gotten skewed.  Peter talks about it.  Paul talks about it.  We are reminded to live like citizens of Heaven, worthy to spread the Good News of Jesus.  Meaning, we are to live in a way that makes people want to know the Jesus we know.  It's a concept that brings hope to many people.  When we feel like we just can't take much more life on this earth, because it is hard and it is painful, we can have hope that this world is not the end.  Something much better awaits us.

It's true, but it's a dangerous concept, too.  I think there are many Christians that skew this thought and sit around just waiting for their future home in Heaven.  Like Chris Seay said in his Culture Maker Series talk, we go through this life as if this world is a public bathroom.  We try to get in and out without touching anything!

I hate to tell you this but: This world IS your home.  At the end of the end, God will make the world; everything we already know, NEW.  He created this world for you, for your pleasure!  In the beginning, He gave Adam and Eve a perfect garden.  Everything worked together.  Humans and animals were not afraid of each other.  Food was readily available for every living thing on this earth.  There was no sin; there was no pain.  Then we made a choice that shook the core of the earth.  Since that day, this world has not been what God created it to be, but it will again someday.  We'll live in a new Heaven AND A NEW EARTH.  

I know where the Christian artists are going with this thought, and I have beautiful friends that have been getting through each day with the hope that this world is not the end.  And they're right. But I disagree with the #1 Christian song in America today.  This IS where we belong.  God put us here on this earth for today.  If we live life with the mind set that we are just waiting until the day that God takes us to our eternal home, then we are missing the WHOLE point of LIFE!!!

 

This world is absolutely amazing!  I think we've lost the wonder of it all.  Let me remind you.  Watch this. 

It is absolutely breathtaking.  This world was created for YOU.  Enjoy it.  Remind others of its sheer wonder.  Take care of it.  Leave it more beautiful than you found it.  My boys are inheriting this world in this life.  Adam's first job was to take care of the animals and land he was given.  After they sinned, God sent Adam out into the world to cultivate the land from which he came.

But even more than that, we have to use Jesus as our example as we LIVE in this world.  He didn't treat it like a public bathroom, that's for sure.  He got his hands dirty.  He got out in it and touched things and people that no one else would go near.

Paul talks in Philippians 1 about how dying would be better for him, but concludes that it's best for everyone that he lives.  He said that in the last years of his life.  There are seasons when we just need to cling to the hope that Heaven awaits us, but for most of our lives, we need to live to the fullest.  Jesus came so that we may have LIFE and have it to the full.  He left us to go prepare heaven, but he came to show us how to live life here on earth.  Yes, this world is flawed, but we're called to live as ambassadors for God.  Our job is to do our best to make it right again.  

So, Go.  Live.  

Enjoy this world.  

This world IS our home.

 

 

True Sacrifice

Fact: Parenting is hard.

                                                And gross and fun and frustrating and wonderful.

Fact: I am imperfect.

                                                Oh, so flawed...

I am still learning how to parent.   I question if I'm screwing up my kids by not letting them do things.  I question if I'm screwing up my kids by letting them do other things.  Every day is a new experiment and quite honestly, I don't know how I'm doing. 

Fact: My imperfection, as a parent and as a person, affects my boys.

                                                 Ugh.

 

We learned this weekend at church that we should look to God as our example for how to parent.  We can take cues from how He loves us, and pass that love on to our kids.  God loves us unconditionally.  He loves us enough to give us rules and guidelines and we should do the same for our kids.  

But so much more than that, God loves us enough to sacrifice everything for us.  To give us grace and mercy and even to give up his own life for us.

When I think about that example and how I live up to it, I know I would give my life for my boys.  When they're sick or hurt, it breaks my heart and I wish I could take that pain on myself to stop their suffering.  I would absolutely make the ultimate sacrifice for my boys.

But that's not what is called of me on a daily basis.  My kids don't need me to give up my life for them.  They need me to give up my selfishness for them.  They need my time.  They need my attention.  They need me to LIVE for them, not die for them.

Believe it or not, that's a much harder sacrifice for me.  

This blog was originally started as an online baby book for my boys, to record their milestones and remember them at each stage of growth.  It's now a place where I am recording how much my boys have taught me and how I've grown.  But I pray that someday, Isaac and Asher will look back and read these words from their young mother.

 

Isaac and Asher:  I hope you know how much I love you.  I hope you know I would do anything for you.  My goal as a parent is to love you well and teach you to be godly men who love others more than yourselves.  I hope that is apparent to you.  Today's lesson in godliness is that you must give each other grace.  I am human and this whole parenting thing will always be new to me.  I have made mistakes and I will continue to make mistakes and I know that it is very likely that you will be in counseling one day because of the way I have parented you.  I am so sorry for that.  Please forgive me and please extend some grace my way.

 

God, I thank you for showing us how to raise our kids.  It seems counter-intuitive to say "no" because of our love, but it is evident that you love us by the boundaries you've given us.  You want us to live full, guilt-free, joy filled lives and the limits you've given us guide us towards that full life. I beg you to give me wisdom and help me to make wise choices when it comes to raising my boys.  I pray that you and my boys both will forgive me when I screw up.  Just as you forgive and forget our mistakes, I pray that my faults won't leave a lasting impression on my kids.  May they be able to overcome my imperfection and learn from my faults.  But more than anything, I pray that You help me achieve my parenting goal, may these boys grow up to be godly men who put You and others before themselves. May I learn that lesson as well, and love my boys more than I love my own time. God, I cannot do this alone.  Thank you that I don't have to.  Thank you for Randall who compliments me perfectly.  Thank you for a community of people who care enough about my boys to have the same goal.  Thank you most of all, for never giving up on us and for never once leaving us to do this on our own.

The Kind of Mom I Want to Be

Here's another author I love:

I'm not sure the kids are ready for his stories yet, but he wrote this for a "This American Life" on NPR:

Neil Gaiman

I told my wife that I was going to write about adventures, and she laughed without stopping for two minutes. I timed her. She laughed from 11:09 until 11:11. "Are you going to tell them," she said when she pulled herself together and more or less stopped laughing, "about how you call every trip to the store an adventure?" I told her that I wasn't, that I was going to write something rich, and true, and wonderful for the radio.

There would be aliens in it, and prehistoric monsters, Aztecs and vampires, crazed scientists and their beautiful daughters. It would contain, somewhere in its 700 words, spies and swordsmen, oracles and barbarians, ghosts, a dancing bear, wise women, werewolves, foot-long carnivorous centipedes, and quite possibly some illicit sex.

She still laughed. I don't think she believed me. And she's right. I get it from my parents, I'm afraid. In my family, adventure tended to be used to mean any minor mishap we survived, or even any break from routine, except by my mother, who still uses it to mean what she did that morning.

I suspect that my father, who loved G. K. Chesterton's essays, had encountered Chesterton's aphorism that an inconvenience is only an adventure looked at the wrong way, and an adventure only an inconvenience wrongly considered, and he took it to heart. So any inconvenience, any problem, any struggle of a personal nature, any of these things in my family would be described as an adventure.

Let's admit it. Real adventures are the sorts of things most of us would just as soon avoid. I wouldn't know what to do if I were on a plane that crashed into an Amazonian dinosaur valley, or a Fumanchu unleashed his centipedes of doom in my general direction. Probably I'd die, quickly and fairly horribly. A character in one of my novels, Tristan Thorn, put this better than I or any of my family members ever managed to. "Adventures were all very well in their place," he thought, "but there's a lot to be said for regular meals and freedom from pain."

 

There is something inside us all that craves Adventure.  I want to be the kind of mom; the kind of person that finds adventure every day.  Parenthood certainly is an adventure in and of itself!

If you think about it, we're all living a story.  We'll all leave a legacy behind us when we move on.  Some of us are living a story that just isn't very interesting.  Living a great story doesn't mean I have to be famous or do something hugely impactful in this world.  But it does mean I have to move.  I have to change.  I have to experience new things and take risks.  I have to use the gifts God's given me.  And do what I do with my whole heart.  I have to try hard.  I have to love hard.  I have to live with passion.  And in doing so, I will make an impact on MY world.

 

Five

This kid turned 5 this week.

It's a good thing he's just getting older and not really growing or changing at all.

5

4

3

2

1

He's still my sweet little baby!