Top Ten Reasons Roxie Ought to Come Today

Even though I absolutely have my wits about me and am totally calm and the actual due date isn't even until tomorrow and that means she could not come for another week and a half, here are the top ten reasons I think Roxie ought to make her debut, well, right now.

10.  I've been having various bouts of contractions since New Year's Eve.  That was 10 days ago...

(Ten. Days.)

9.  We finally purchased the larger vehicle needed to fit all three children at the same time.  I felt certain that she was just waiting for us to get that affair in order, but that was finalized last Friday, soooooo....

8.  I am ready.  (Thank you, Captain Obvious, I know.  As if this post alone hadn't made it pretty clear.)

7.  I completed my random nesting-lady to-do list, including waxing my mustache. What else could she be waiting on?

6.  I encouraged Jed through completion of his Honey-Do list, including mounting the paper towel holder on the wall.  Again, what else could she be waiting on?

5.  There is a newborn-sized person inside my body.  Currently.  Isn't that enough?

4.  January 10th is the day I've been gunning for since the beginning, because it was my Granddaddy's birthday.  It has a nostalgic connection, aaaaand it'd be convenient to remember for that side of the family.

3.  Last night was a full moon.  Isn't that supposed to pull her out like it pulls the tides?

2.  I finally packed my hospital bag.  (Hopefully she's not just procrastinating like her mom.)

1.  Tomorrow's the official due date, and I've been saying I think she'll come early.  That leaves us with today, little girl!

Therefore, it really ought to start happening, just, any moment now.  Just any moment.  Aaaaany time...

In the meantime, I'll be in the living room, jumping around with Levi.

(And reminding myself that she is so very portable and well-fed where she is...no need to rush it.  No need to rush it.  No need to rush...)


   

He's Captured My Heart, and Today, He's FIVE!

I can't pinpoint the day I fell madly in love with Levi. 

It wasn't the day of his birth, though I loved him with a mama-bear passion.  Twenty-two hours of grueling, induced, take-these-contractions-with-no-rest-in-between-and-like-it labor left me stunned in a hospital gown.  (OK, the last hour was a rainbow-y dance in the sunshine, as the epidural I [finally] agreed to took effect.)  But I was stunned nevertheless.  And with a baby.  A baby!  Our first.  Levi.

These past five years, he has proven to be thoughtfully inquisitive, thirsty for understanding, hilariously goofy, and a fine dancer.  Keeping up with the pace of his memory and questions leaves me daily challenged, and remembering to nurture his soft-hearted love and sensitivity so that he will continue to turn that tenderness, and entrust it, to Yahweh is a pleasure I do not take for granted.

I listen to his creative jokes, watch him play his funny pretend games with his funny pretend workers (imaginary friends we've all grown to love:  Binkin, Paunch, Kimper, Chimp, and Shama-Lama-Lingus, who all live currently on Pluto), try to give him honest answers to his constant questions, and watch him absorb wide-eyed any story we read or make up, and I think my heart will burst.

He is a strong little boy, full of life and willfulness, and while all kids are awesome, I have the distinct motherly privilege of being completely and uselessly biased into thinking he is the greatest little boy on the planet.  (Just like every other mother's little boy; it's our special right). 



I only now realized that I wrote
"Birthay."  Nice one, Mom!




So sweet, sweet Mr. Levi (aka Schmevi, aka Bubba) Eliot Finley, happiest of birthdays to you today as you turn FIVE!  Here's to your loose teeth and the one that's gone nearly horizontal today as you continued to mess with it, declaring, "I need the money."  (What?)  Here's to your practically politician-cultivated diplomacy and charm on the phone as you fielded your birthday calls all day, expressing great gratitude and grace with every caller.  Here's to your cake-decorating skills, your magic tricks, your declarations about mouse poop, and your investigations on your new microscope.  Your huge brown eyes and precious smile are a joy to me, and your lively nature give me incredible, new perspective on life and our heavenly Father.  May you always know and love Him, walk according to His purpose for you, know peace, laugh at fear and inhibitions, inspire and bless others, and change the world. 

I love you, sweet Bear!  We are so proud of you!

Kids' Bliss Trains the Parents: Wait, What?

Follow your bliss.  Just follow it.  Follow what?  Your bliss.  What is your bliss?  I have no idea.  The thing that brings you bliss?  So bliss is the ultimate goal?  No, your bliss is the ultimate goal.  Nice.  Follow that.

I heard of an interview in which Brad Pitt says he really just encourages his kids to follow their bliss.  I may've vomited a little bit in my mouth.  Little kids' bliss runs the gamut.  Putting plastic chunks in their noses.  Eating only cake for three days.  Practicing kung fu on their friends' faces.  Maybe, just maybe, they could use a little direction.   

There's this proverb you probably already know:  "Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old, he will not depart from it" (Prov. 22:6).  It sneaked into my thoughts a month or so ago, and then it started knocking around and making some noise that I couldn't ignore, and now it's pretty much stuck in my craw.  I started picking out the tiniest morsels for rumination:  What does it mean by "train," by "way," by "should," and by the conclusion that he'll not depart from it?  Yeah, I know.  If you find that intense, welcome to my world. 

I figured there were three things crucial to deciphering all this.  First, ask Yahweh.  Duh.  He's the one stirring it up; I'd be obtuse to not ask Him why.  Second, investigate the original language for clues.  And third, consider apple trees. 

From Yahweh, I've been getting the idea of equipping children for successful adulthood in the most practical ways.  I mean, even as specific as praying about His calling for their lives, for their careers, and beginning to develop those talents and capacities.  I think a lot of parents do that.  I see many families in which the kids follow in the path made available by their parents.  You know, boys learning their dad's trade to continue the family business, or those families where the dad's a doctor, and all the kids are, too, or the dad's a minister, and all his sons are, too.  But they are the exception, not the rule.  It just happened that when I'd see the words of this proverb in my mind, the word "way" was being highlighted, as if the Father was saying, "This is more than just becoming a believer.  I know the plans I have for your kid.  Learn my heart, and buy up their childhood to help them in that path."  Right now, Jed and I think it'd be cool to raise Levi to become a dentist, because they are respectable and make decent money, and they only work, like, Mon - Thurs from 9:00-3:30.  Then in the summer, you call them up, and they defer you to their colleague dentist friends, because they're out of the office for a month.  The only thing better would be practicing dentistry in Europe where they value the afternoon nap and possibly don't care much about their teeth. 

I was raised to believe I could achieve anything and that the world was my oyster, and it was truly encouraging, but I realized as I stepped over the threshold into adulthood that maybe being prepared for the whole world was a little overwhelming and perhaps a little more specific direction would've been useful, too.

OK, so then there's the original language of the proverb.  Clarke's Commentary on the Bible says, "The Hebrew of this clause is curious: חנך לנער על פי דרכו chanoch lannaar al pi darco, 'Initiate the child at the opening (the mouth) of his path.'"  And, well, OK, if we're going to do this, then I'll revisit "initiate:"  "to introduce into the knowledge of some art or subject" or "to set going" (dictionary.com).  Interesting.  Interesting that it would say the mouth of "his" path, eh?  So we're onto something. 
 
Barnes' Notes on the Bible say something similar about it:
"Train - Initiate, and so, educate.
The way he should go - Or, according to the tenor of his way, i. e., the path especially belonging to, especially fitted for, the individual's character. The proverb enjoins the closest possible study of each child's temperament and the adaptation of 'his way of life' to that."  Again with the direction having to do very much with the individual purpose placed in that child.

I think as parents we so want to develop our children's characters, decision-making faculties, and faith so that they can be adults who plan and choose wisely.  But then this whole can of worms opens up, and I realize, hey, why not?  It would be a huge success as a parent to take that role of wisdom and covering and prayerful consideration and begin to shape our children in the most practical ways for the most successful life, according to the Father's plan for them.  It's totally doable. 

I'm avoiding too many details here, because I don't feel inclined to start arranging marriages between infants or discounting the preferences of my kids as they get older and start considering such things on their own.  But there's something to all this. 

Then there's the apple tree, and this is just an aside, more about the training part of it all.  Left untended, an apple tree just grows up and out in all directions, stretching its limbs, being free to grow and be and do just what it wants.  It also produces few apples and tiny apples.  As far as contribution goes, it's pretty worthless.

A well-tended apple tree, on the other hand, has been trained.  It's been literally trimmed and tied to posts and forced to grow into the most productive, gnarly shape ever, one that's loaded with big, delicious apples come harvest time.  Training an apple tree into productivity requires attention, knowledge, foresight, and work.  And so it goes with our kids. 

Recently, in the news, have been stories about parents who are overly obsessed with gender and not "forcing" gender on their kids.  (A little late for that since the dude's sperm determined it and literally created the kid with a gender.  Can't be helped.)  Anyone who knows me halfway knows that I think these people are flat-out idiots, and that's probably why I'm cramming the concept into this post.

But here's why.  I advocate for parental authority in kids' lives.  I am happy that so many families do so many things differently, and that's part of the flavor of each family.  But kids should not be making serious life decisions for themselves when they're seven.  They are not the ones in charge of grown-up thought at that time.  They are playing pretend, learning, begging for someone to make sense of it all for them.  Consider the following from the author of My Princess Boy:  “When he said, ‘I am a princess,’ I said, ‘Boys aren’t princesses,’” Kilodavis recalled. “He said, ‘I’m a boy princess.’ He’s driving the agenda for who he is.”  (Emphasis mine.)

I read this and figure that here is the case of a confused person letting their little kid follow his bliss.  WHY....is he driving the agenda?  Did I mention the kid was four?  4.  FOUR.  He's playing dress up.  What on earth would cause a lucid brain to set a kid loose on any sort of identity path like that, treating it as an age-appropriate course for him to seriously explore based on his own agenda?  That poor kid needs some help.  Or just someone to laugh off all his silly incarnations as he goes through all the costumes in the house.  Come on, parents, stop letting the current societal trends lull you into sacrificing your child's sanity.  I'm not even getting into the whole gay/transgender argument here; I'm just saying that kids need direction and help making sense of who they are, not for you to take them seriously every time they say they want to be a frog-dinosaur.  Most kids would be schizophrenic if we told them to just be all the things that creep into their imaginations.  When they're FOUR.

This kid was two (yep) when his parents started letting him call the shots:

Poor little boy with a whim to pretend to be
a girl has a mom who therefore immediately grows out
his hair and buys him dresses... Methinks that might be
the recipe for creating, rather than abating,
confusion.

So yeah.  Fluffy as it sounds for an adult to just follow your bliss, it becomes comical when it's the rule for children.  We parents ought to be training away rather than letting our two-year-olds train us like a bunch of circus animals!  How does it so easily get flipped around? 

Yahweh's Real Good at Puzzles, Just Ask Levi

Have you ever put together one of those thousand-piece puzzles?  Makes you want to do a touchdown dance and force others to marvel at it.  It can actually just be a 100-piecer, or even less, for me to feel that "I rock" feeling when the last piece is in place and I can see the whole picture.  It's so satisfying to make sense of it all!  At first, you're just staring at all the scattered little cardboard shapes with different colorations.  It's madness.  You pick one up, and it's utterly meaningless, a blob of gray with a squiggle of green across the top, or whatever it is.  It only has meaning when it's connected into its rightful spot in the whole.  Likewise, the whole lacks complete meaning if that one piece is left out.

Then you think about Yahweh working on the puzzle of our existences with a gazillion pieces, only it's one of those 3D puzzles (except, who am I kidding, you know His is, like, some weird version of 7D or something), and each piece is its own tiny 7D puzzle made up of tinier 7D puzzle pieces, and the whole thing morphs in time.  My brain hurts just typing that. 

(To follow a quick rabbit trail here, because I'm passionate about it and just canNOT help it, I'll add that this is part of why we must live circumspectly, aware of the bigger picture, which is His picture.  And we must live according to His specific will for us and word to us.  On any given day, we might encounter solitary circumstances that test our knowledge, our fortitude, our emotions [hello], or our will to stay the course.  If we're just looking at the one, somewhat meaningless-on-its-own puzzle piece, we better not make any move until we've consulted with Him.)

*And somehow here, I get theological for just a bit, but it prefaces the very cool puzzle pieces of Yahweh's total, fabulous faithfulness to a little boy that you'll read below it all.*

So how does our fight with the insidious diabetes in Levi's life fit into the ol' grand scheme?  Not to get overly theological, but I'll throw in that I don't buy the shade of Calvinism that embraces absolute predestination.  Yahweh is relational, and while I'm not getting into it here, I know that He created us with the ability to choose.  In Romans 8:29, it says that He foreknows (everything: our choices, our circumstances, us), and therefore He predestines certain other situations to match up with those choices and end up working out for our glory, making us Christ-like.  And many of us know the Jeremiah verse that He has plans for us, to prosper us and give us a future and a hope.  And actually, just a verse before that Romans reference, in verse 28, it states the popular teaching that He works all things together for the good of those who love Him.  So we have a choice.  But He's ever working with our choices on our behalf if His will is our goal.

Here's another little nugget to chew:  I do not believe Yahweh gave Levi diabetes.  I don't think Yahweh "gives us this cross to bear" trying to teach us something, although He will absolutely teach us through it.  Sickness and death are not His will for us.  Sin and its imperfect consequences are not His will for us.  I believe, to condense it all very simply, that it is the result of the imperfect world we inherited and that it is an opportunity for us to rise in His strength and defeat it, until every enemy is underneath His feet.  More on that bold statement some other time!  (If you want to chase it down, here are some starters:  Matt. 22:44, 1 Cor. 15:25, Heb. 2:8, and my favorite Heb. 10:13.)

Of course, Yahweh in His majestic, God-Of-The-Universe-I-Speak-And-Things-Appear-Ness knew that Levi, and we, had this battle coming in our life.  As Levi's covering, it's more our battle at this point than his, which is exactly how I want it.  And so Yahweh's lined up some inexplicably handy things in Levi's little repertoire to help us be successful as we walk it out with His help.

As we've implemented the protocol and adjustments required with this situation, I've begun to see some puzzle pieces fall into place that, before, seemed insignificant.  But as the proverbial light has dawned, I've continued to find myself shaking my head at the grace and love of our God and His interest in all areas of our lives and, moreover, in our success there by His leading.  There are only three that have been glaringly obvious so far, but they make such a difference.

Puzzle Piece Number One:  Levi is a terrific adapter. 
The day he was born, I was holding him and talking to him, and of all the sweetsy, cooing blubberings I could have mumbled and did mumble to him, I heard myself say, "You are such a great adapter."  Adapter?  He was a baby, not an electronic device.  I'd known him maybe 30 minutes.  And that's what I had to say.  I knew it was the Holy Spirit and I knew I was prophesying to him about part of his anointing, what Yahweh had placed in him.  Well, I've seen it play out through the various changes and adjustments that occur in a regular childhood, but never could I have fathomed a child who is more go-with-the-flow about the crazy things that we now have to do to him to combat diabetes.  Each new member of the hospital staff that we meet seems to recognize it fairly quickly, especially as a comparison to other kids.  Believe me, Levi is not always a go-with-the-flow personality, so this particular piece of the puzzle stands out all the more. 

Puzzle Piece Number Two:  Levi is a terrific eater. 
Not only that, his eating habits in general perfectly match up with what is most convenient for his current battle.  I was really careful from his infancy about what he ate and didn't eat, and about exposing him to a big variety of fruits, veggies, and flavors, trying to train his palate and habits for a healthy lifestyle.  But I have begun to realize that much of his preferences are also just his nature beyond what I did.  He loves salad, and if you put a meal before him that involves the usual starch and meat and veggies, he'll always go for the veggies first.  And he's not a big snacker or grazer, which is hugely helpful in getting an accurate blood glucose reading every so often.  Diet is obviously a big deal with handling diabetes, and where others have had a great hurdle of change to overcome, we've just kept on with what we've always done.  We haven't had big fits and struggles.  We haven't had to overhaul the whole family's outlook.  We just already had the right piece for the puzzle.

Puzzle Piece Number Three:  Levi has never thrown up. 
In fact, he has hardly ever been sick.  Apparently, sickness can really mess with blood sugar levels and can make management trickier.  But throw up, well, it's a giant RED FLAG.  It really messes with the inner balance of things, and if there's any throw up or even just nausea, the hospital wants to be called immediately.  It can cause ketones (you don't want those at all) to appear in high numbers, and at the same time it can cause the blood sugar to go really low.  The way to combat ketones is with more insulin.  But with a low blood sugar, you must not give more insulin.  So it's a seeming catch-22 that worries a lot of people.  If Levi ever throws up, I know we'll manage it just fine.  But having always marveled that he's throw-up-free, I now especially marvel at the fact that he's the only kid I know that's never done it and he's one that highly benefits from that predisposition.  Thank. You. Yahweh.

These three seemingly insignificant or trite puzzle pieces have always stood out to Jed and me as singular to Levi.  Now, we just shake our heads at how much grace comes wrapped up in these three puzzle pieces when they fit into the current grand scheme of Levi's life.  We cannot live our day-to-day routines in tandem with all this and see it as coincidence.  It's just too obvious.  Too glorious.  Too helpful and beneficial.  Yahweh's grace is sufficient, to say the least! 

It's Levi's life: Yahweh's masterpiece.  He is worthy.  Of our praise.  Of our all.

RIP Confusing Mole

DISCLAIMER!  What follows is another post that might make some guys feel uncomfortable.  Even some girls.  I don't know how else to warn you except to say that for me to tell a very innocent story, I am required to use the word "nipple" far more than one would imagine necessary on the outset.  But it involves honest conversations with a three-year-old about mostly things that are not actually nipples.  Uncomfortable yet?  If so, here's your chance to gracefully exit, no hard feelings!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Before kids, I had a tiny mole on my neck.  But then, at some point late in my first pregnancy with Levi, I began to notice the mole get considerably bigger, but it still wasn't a big deal.  My doc had told me that pregnancy hormones do that and not to worry.  It stayed that way until my second pregnancy with Adelaide, into which it grew again and became quite formidable, for a mole.  There are certain things that just don't bother me: scars, moles, freckles, slight blemishes of that sort.  So this one didn't really bother me either, though it had sort of developed its own personality.  See for yourself:

(And I purposely chose a picture/angle
that's not too imposing.)

We all know that with kids, no subject is off-limits.  They have questions about life, and one of the unexpected pleasures (most of the time) of parenting is all the very straightforward explanations we get to dig up about poop, death, body parts, good-and-evil, you name it. 

Levi was three when Adelaide was born, and he had lots of questions about nursing.  I happily answered them in that delicate, tight-rope routine we all do to give understanding and also be age-appropriate, perhaps even inserting important teachings about privacy and such.  I think it's right here that I can pinpoint the moment that I began to have feelings about my growing mole.  It was during one such conversation when Levi pointed to it and asked, "How come you never feed Adelaide on that nipple?"

<Imagine tires screeching to a halt>  Hold on, what???!  I looked at him and blinked, then laughed really hard, then explained to him that it was just. a. mole.  Not. a. nipple.  This was a good time to fine-tune my nipple explanation from earlier.  I proceeded to show him other much-more-normal-and-size-appropriate moles I had, which, looking back, must've been more confusing since none of them really looked like the weird neck-mole.  But it seemed to work out.

"Oh," he said.  No big deal.  Nipple, mole, mole, nipple.  Who cares?

No one cares.  I didn't care.  I, the confident-in-her-own-skin woman who doesn't lose sleep over wrinkles, weird feet, her crooked thumb, cellulite, and plenty of scars, thought it was just a hilarious story.  I relayed the story to Jed and my sisters and girlfriends.  But I have to admit, over time, it started to nag at me a little.  I thought, "If Levi got so confused by it, who else might be distracted by it?"  I worked with a sweet girl years ago who had a wart on her tongue (yep, a wart, on her tongue), and I refused to let it distract me, so much so that my attempts at not being distracted sometimes backfired and made me that much more distracted!  I didn't want to subject everyone I knew to that same fate with my weird mole.  But I'd forget about it for awhile, then think about it again, then whatever. 

Then infants and small toddlers became obsessed with it.  When I would pick them up, Adelaide and all her posse would pretty much ignore me and go looking for my mole to push like a button or try to yank out of its socket.  Nice.  And not altogether comfortable.  I began to realize that, while I'd never had any "work done," I was ready to look into having this sucker removed. 

The clencher came one happy afternoon that we had friends over and a couple of stray kittens wandered into our yard.  They were tiny, obviously newly weaned, and starving.  Someone had dumped them.  I immediately scooped one up, and in nanoseconds, I kid you not, that kitten was trying to nurse on my mole!! 

My first thought:  "For the love of God!  IT'S NOT A NIPPLE!!"  Even God's innocent creation was mistaking it as such.

My second:  "OK, I get it!!"  I went swiftly to my neighbors' house and asked to borrow some cat food to get these kittens nourishment and keep my own dignity intact.  I officially determined then that I'd have it removed.  That was a year ago, but I am happy to say, for my own sanity and for the edification of those who must look at me from time to time, that last week, the mole went bye-bye.  And for those of you who see me often, yes, it's for you that I've waited to share these stories till after it's gone so as not to make the distraction that much worse!

The day of the removal, the dermatologist gave me a funny alternative:  "When this comes off, you'll probably have some minor scarring, just a little pucker like a tiny belly button."  Not joking!  The persistence of that spot to harbor some unusual body part was astonishing to me.  And I love that Yahweh has a sense of humor!

Truthfully, though, if I must exchange one odd body part to camp on my neck for another, I'll happily trade a nipple for a tiny belly button.  Remember?  I don't mind scars.  And at least it's not an arm or a foot.  (It can always be worse.)                                   

Right now, it's still healing and actually looks quite like I imagine a bullet wound might look.  I have yet to see the full "belly button" effect, but I very much look forward to it. 

But the very best part was Levi's reaction to its removal.  After years of non-issue with that topic and what I'd thought was an understanding we'd reached, I came home from the doctor, and Levi said, "Hey Mom!!  Did the doctor take that nipple off your neck?"

.................<Sigh> 

I dropped my things on the counter, grabbed an apple, and finagled my big-bellied self into a chair.  I smiled at Levi, thrilled to give what I hoped would be my last such attempt at clarifying.  In T minus two weeks or so, we can trade these talks for ones about that crazy belly button that appeared where the nipple was.

Big Number 11--Travel!



Me with my grandma in Colorado,
probably around '86 or so...

Travel!  How could I forget it in my Finley Kid Education List?  I have the travel bug and always have, and I come by it honest from my grandma Evelyn's heritage.  They're adventurers and explorers and geographers by nature, and while I don't share my grandma's obsession with looking at maps just for the fun of it, I share almost all the rest (including a genuine love for [almost] every tree I meet, though I do not hug them, ha ha). 

I always wanted to do the summer of hostels in Europe when I was younger and never did, but I did have incredible opportunities that my parents were so stellar to fund and encourage, and they've contributed much to who I am today.  Very early on, my Aunt Josie or my grandparents would take me on road trips to Colorado, which first opened my eyes up to landscapes (deserts, mesas, mountains), cultures (Native Americans), and climates (cold) different than I'd experienced at home in North Texas.

Hawai'ian lu'au on the big island



Then, when I was around 9 or so, my mom started working for American Airlines, and Mom and Dad were so cool as to start adventuring around on weekend trips, and some longer, to various places of interest.  We did the Pacific Northwest down into northern California, the Northeast from Maine down to Rhode Island, D. C.,  Hawai'i, Cancun, and lots of places in between. 

Later on, they gave me the experiences of going overseas to visit Israel at one point and Italy at another.


Atop the Mt. of Olives, Jerusalem &
the Dome of the Rock behind me

What's cool about it, besides the great fun, is how eye-opening it is.  Even just experiencing the physical input of terrain and climate tells you quite a bit about the people who live in a place.  Then you start to experience architecture, history, and interaction, and many of your narrow beliefs from your little bubble of "home" start to become enriched, challenged, or obliterated.  But they do not remain unchanged.  I've never returned from a trip without having a broader understanding and appreciation for people and for God and His creation.  He'll definitely use the experience to talk to us if we're listening.

Mark Twain said, "Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness." I don't put tons of weight on everything Mark Twain thought, nor do I think travel is the only way to challenge one's thinking, but I like that quote nonetheless.  I'm a lover of Truth. I think prejudice (according to the official dictionary definition) and narrow-mindedness are usually the result of ignorance rather than understanding.  Travel helps with that.  It doesn't make us less convicted about what's good and true.  I think it provides opportunity to solidify our convictions about what's good and true.  I've seen plenty of people who are suspicious of anything different that might challenge their convictions, but I don't think having convictions challenged makes a person less convicted.  And when it comes to spiritual things, if we really, truly trust Yahweh, He'll be the first one to challenge our convictions, believe me!


The 1997 signing of the Balanced
Budget Agreement in D.C. That white hair
behind us is Newt Gingrich being
interviewed. When he was done,
they interviewed me! I zealously
 solved all the world's problems.

So travel has definitely jarred me, given me a new appreciation for people's differences and an awareness that so many differences are not as scary as some would perceive them; they're just different approaches to the basic human issues we all face.  I do not agree with everyone else, but I've had lots of unfair and debilitating preconceptions eradicated, and I'm glad.  Those untruths were not helpful.

(Plus, beyond all the serious mumbo jumbo, did I mention that travel is sooooo fun?!)



Inside St. Peter's in Rome

When I moved to the Northeast, it was a much bigger adjustment and adventure than I would've expected since it's just another region in my native USA.  The things I was used to buying from the grocery store shelves in Texas were not appearing on Boston's shelves.  The accent was a bit unusual.  The political and cultural vibe was different.  I couldn't find a church quite like what I was after.  But what I did find was that Yankees are, well, people.  Of all things.  And I had to face a ridiculous prejudice in myself that I didn't even know was there about the whole tired North/South thing that pervades part of the culture lingering in Texas.  And if a Northerner went to Texas, they'd have they're minds broadened about the richness of Southern culture and that most Southerners are not stuck in some hillbilly rut. 



Sort of like Frankfurt's airport;
Israel's "police" is their military.
Automatic weapons inspire fear,
for sure!

One cannot walk through Frankfurt, Germany's airport, with uniformed guards carrying semi-automatic weapons standing at their various posts, without getting a bit of understanding about the people there and what must influence them, giving some compassion for what might've been misunderstood just moments prior. 

And I'd always thought that the Bible story about Sodom and Gomorrah where Lot's wife was turned into a pillar of salt was so weird.  I was always like, "A pillar of...salt?"  Then I went to where that had happened, right off the Dead Sea.  And wouldn't you know it, because of all the mineral deposits there, there are actually pillars of salt everywhere.  So Lot's wife just turned into the landscape.  It made total sense then.  It was the coolest connection that made me think differently about a lot of strange things in the Bible.  I realized then that there are probably a lot more totally logical explanations out there for other stuff, too.

So, having run all over the place in my thoughts, it is a big priority to me for my kids to experience the shock and the big fun and the challenge that usually comes from the wonderful gift of travel. 

Add it to the list! 







To Be a Finley Kid...10 Things You'll Learn

Here, for your looking-into-the-Finley's-life reading pleasure, is a short list (in random order) of the things we insist our kids must have learned at some point under our tutelage before we'll consider them totally, adequately equipped to enter adulthood.  It's actually not all that brilliant, but it's our little list nonetheless, and gender is no exemption from completion of any item.  Also note that knowing God is the paramount attribute we want our kids to have.  It's not on the list 'cuz it's a given.

One...
     How to perform basic cooking and maybe a few extra fancy culinary abilities just for good measure.  This will include full competency in several basic recipes that, when taken together, cover a decent gamut of cooking knowledge.

Two...
    How to do laundry, and do it well.  If this one sounds obvious, you'd be surprised at how many people have to figure it all out in adulthood.  I wouldn't know this from experience.  Of course, I'm talking about other people (cough, shifty eyes).

Three...
    Basic music theory and piano.  If they also want to learn another instrument, so be it.  But from mine and Jed's musical experience, there is no substitute for the foundation learned from piano.  Plus, music is extremely mathematical and helps strengthen all kinds of cool areas in the brain.  And it's fun to be able to pick up an instrument at a party and get everyone singing.

Four...
    Basic outdoor survival skills.  I have no idea what this means.  I mean, I know what it means but not how to execute it.  I feel like I could catch a fish and build a fire, um, if I had a fishing pole and matches.  Clearly, we're not experts at all of these.  I DO know how to clean a fish, which is pretty awesome, really.  I like to think that I'm scrappy and resourceful, so I'll teach my kids that, and then I'll enlist the experts for all the rest.

Five...
    How to shoot a gun.  Yes, that's right.  And with precision, too, so back off.  ;)

Six...
    Self-defense.  I'm impressed with how much discipline is required in most formal fighting styles, and while this might be the least important one, to me, in the whole list, I'd love to see it through.

Seven...
    How to be a member of a team.  I want every one of our kids to be involved in some kind of sport at some point or another in their lives.  Even though we plan to homeschool doesn't mean we'll put blankets over our children when in public and shield them from reality.  Every so often, we'll drag our pasty selves out of the house and make some noise.  Clearly, Adelaide will be getting that volleyball scholarship into some magnificent college, but for all of them, I want them to experience the character building that comes from teamwork and competition and pushing one's self.

Eight...
    How to care for someone smaller or less able.  The older ones will get a healthy dose of this with their younger siblings, but especially for our youngest, we'll go out of our way to find or create opportunities for them to be responsible and care for younger ones.  Hopefully, this will help build selflessness and kindness among a slew of other things.  And will make that first year with a first newborn less...uh...shocking.

Nine...
    Bible proficiency.  We live our lives by relationship with the Father first and foremost.  The Bible is an extraordinary gift and tool that He's given to help support that relationship and teach us so much of the history and Truth and meaning that most matters to Yahweh.  I want my kids to have thoughtfully read it through and had total license to open any discussion and ask any question on the matter. 

Ten...
    Money management.  How to work and earn, how to tithe and offer, how to be generous, how to pay one's self and save, how to invest, how to spend, how to resist the siren song of unnecessary debt.  In fact, by the time we're done with them, they will loathe debt.

There are more, I know (riding a horse, for whatever reason, plus manners, having a garden, and another huge one I just remembered and then forgot), but 10 is a nice "list number," and this covers some biggies.  Are there any big ones to you that I'm leaving out?  I'd love to hear what they are!  One of the coolest things about families is how very different they all are.  I'm most inspired by the really structured, disciplined families that run like well-oiled machines with every member knowing and playing its own helpful role.  The reason, of course, is because that's not my greatest strength. 

But if nothing else, our kids will be responsible, caring, musical adults who walk with Yahweh and who could win a fight if pushed to it.  ;)