On Shielding My Children from Their Children's Bibles!

Murder!  Intrigue!  Seductions! 

If you read the Bible or Bible stories to your kids, I have a question for you.  Have you ever gotten to a part where you just thought, "Uh, this is kind of scary or saucy or otherwise seemingly inappropriate for children?"  Did you then sort of just shove that thought aside, pressing forward through the story, convincing yourself that because it's the Bible, and the Bible is God's Word, and this is a children's Bible thrown together, presumably, by experts who must know more than you, that it's good for your kids and you need to buck up and learn how to answer their absolutely forthcoming-at-a-blinding-rate questions?  That nagging feeling stuck around a bit, though, didn't it? 

I'm on the nursery rotation at church, and a few weeks ago our team was talking about our lessons for the month of November.  We draw from various resources and sometimes just come up with our own.  We had a copy of the story of Joseph from a children's Bible story book, but YOWZA!!  We had to trim out about half of it!  Brothers trying to kill a brother, another man's wife trying to seduce a man...it absolutely is like sitting a kid in front of a daytime soap opera!  I could just see it:  innocent children sitting wide-eyed, absorbing it all, then on the way home with their parents, asking inappropriate questions and blaming us nursery workers. 

I wondered about the people in charge of publishing this children's book of stories, and I realized something.  They were not drawing on the discernment God gave them, and I bet I know why.  They probably thought that if they left anything out, they were "taking away" from the book and would be condemned in SIN!  And there it is:  religion.  A religious spirit will cause us to forget to flow with what might be appropriate in the moment, by the spirit of God, because we feel so bound to a particular law from which we're too terrified to deviate.  As if God is glorified by mortifying or confusing small children who cannot possibly understand some of the concepts in the Bible.

I've found the same things in my kids' adorable little Bibles that they have, and that I'm so glad they have!  I just have to weed through some of the passages and some entire stories altogether.

It's appropriate to start with milk and work a person up to the meatier things, both spiritually and with regard to the things of life.  I don't need to waste my time right now explaining murder, sex, lust, and adultery to my three-year-old.  That doesn't mean that those things aren't supposed to be in the Bible, but it does mean that I'm honoring my responsibility as a parent to use my brain and not let him encounter it until he can handle it.  Yes, even the Bible.  Even Jesus' crucifixion...I totally approach this stuff by the Holy Spirit, but little ones don't need gruesome details.  But they might not even need a subtle reference to the gruesome details, because they pick up on that stuff.  They need the truth in a way they can understand and not be freaked out!  And it seems so odd to me to be blogging about something seemingly so obvious, but I've encountered inappropriate adult content, just in "kid" language, in enough kid versions of the Bible that I've begun to wonder if it's not so obvious to some of the Christian community after all.

Have any of you dealt with this?  I know that before I learned otherwise, I would've felt guilty or confused about how to approach these sorts of things.  Boo!  If you've been there and felt less than equipped to know what to do, be encouraged!  Take the cool, age-appropriate things and sprinkle them as a delightfully palatable seasoning in your kids' lives, presenting the character and love of God that kids so understand.  As they grow in wisdom and stature under your wise parenting, begin to fill in details that also add more mature lessons.  You are the parent God chose for them, and a happy thing it is!  You're ultimately in charge of their education, spiritual and otherwise.  Don't let some "expert" out there throw you off!

We can and should trust many of our instincts as we yield ourselves to the Holy Spirit's presence in us and counsel to us.  Whew!  We can relax a bit and realize we're not going crazy after all, which is always good.

Baby Leg Warmers and More

This post is entirely about unnecessary but fun baby stuff that might add an enjoyable diversion from the norm during the gift buying and receiving of the coming season.

Baby Leg Warmers

Though I like to call them leg sweaters, baby leg warmers are cute and practical.  I was walking through Toys 'R' Us while still pregnant with Adelaide, and two bright rainbow-striped legs went by me.  I ran over to the mommy carrying her baby boy, the one donning the stripes, and asked her where on earth she got those cute little leg thingies.  They were a gift, but as it went, she knew their origin: etsy.com.  It's a fantastic website, and you've probably been there already.  If not, check it out, but be careful!  Anything you think to look up you'll almost certainly find in unique and fun options you'd never imagined, and it's easy to sit down at 1 o'clock for ten minutes or so only to come out of your spellbound reverie, see that the clock says 2:30, wonder what your children are doing, and reluctantly click the "x" to close the page at long last.


 As soon as I got home I visited the site.  I entered "baby leg warmers" or something like that in the Search box and became overwhelmed with the pages of results, all from various vendors and all with nearly irresistible options.  I narrowed down my favorites over the next few months, then chose from the vendor with a current sale, good shipping, and a vibe I liked.  Her individual website is crawlercovers.com, and I can't say how great the service and the products were.

People exclaim over them all the time when Adelaide wears them, and they're just one of those fun items that are adorable and would also make a fun, unexpected gift for any babies in your life.  Worn with a onesie, they make for easy diaper changes, and for people in colder climates they're about as practical as you get when little cotton pants just aren't going to keep tiny legs warm.  They have designs for boys and girls, and they actually grow with baby through toddlerhood, serving then as knee-highs or over the knee warmers.  Also for the older kids, they can wear the warmers as sleeves with short-sleeved shirts, which is very nearly too cool for school.  If you just can't see it, check the website; some people have pics of it.

More warmers plus shoe socks

Shoe Socks (or maybe Sock Shoes...)

Another item I love is a little more mainstream; it just took me longer to catch up.  However, if you haven't ever seen Trumpette socks for babies (and I'm sure other brands make them, too), I highly recommend them.  They're socks that stay on, which is great in and of itself, but they also have a design that looks like a stylish little shoe.  Adelaide, like Levi did, does not keep shoes on, so socks that look like shoes are perfect.  They have many designs, and like the dilemma with the leg warmers, the conundrum is deciding which ones to choose unless you want to spend hundreds of dollars on a mound of socks.  I first saw these on a good friend's baby, but hers were in the form of tights with little shoe designs on the feet.  I'm not sure what brand they were.  You can search for all of these at Amazon.com.

Wooden Name Letters

Finally, when I was pregnant with Levi, my mom bought us beautiful wooden letters for Levi's wall that spelled his name, but when Adelaide was born, the store no longer carried them.  When I did a search for wooden letters, I was astonished at the prices I was finding!  For a name as long as Adelaide, some options would've run us $200.  Not gonna happen.  Then I found it:  woodlandmanufacturing.com.  They offer a lot of happy options at a reasonable, doable price, especially if your kid has a short name!  You can choose from a pretty extensive list of fonts, colors, and sizes, and you can order each letter indiviually if you want the name to have different colors.  It was $40 for the name Adelaide, plus basic shipping.

(We used the Vivian font...both cute and
appropriate:  that's her middle name...awww.)

So, it's just a bunch of stuff, but it's stuff that has been a fun find and that we've really enjoyed around here.  Check them out for your little one or maybe another little one on your Christmas list.

And happy Thanksgiving week!  Hope your Turkey Day is full of family and laughter and joy.

Making Your Own Baby Food Is EASY! (Hippie Lifestyle Optional)

It all started when the Rainbow Fairy descended upon me.  Or maybe it was the Lucky Charms leprechaun.  I grew my hair down to my ankles, and it blew perpetually in the breeze, a repetitive waving movement that mirrored the dance of my almost diaphanous muslin sundress.  Jed and I packed up the family, bought a bunch of goats, and moved to a cabin on a verdant pastureland perched at the top of a mountain.  We taught Levi how to hunt and Adelaide how to weave.  Rays of sunshine warmed the field of grain in my backyard.  Beside it, I floated through rows of gnarled branches, picking plump, ripe peaches from our well-tended trees.  Overflowing hand-woven baskets in hand, I made my way, barefooted, down the daisy-lined path towards our simply outfitted kitchen where I would spend the entire day preparing special, even magical, food for my dearest infant.  Just outside the door, I patted the family cow.  Once inside, I removed the chickens from the countertops and began readying all the contraptions I would need for a long day of cooking.



The trick is not gobbling up
all these pears yourself. 

 Actually, I have no idea why I had this preconceived notion that preparing your own baby food meant that you had to be a certain kind of person with nothing else to do and who placed a highly aggrandized sense of importance on granola living at the cost of practicality.  Some of the ideas I mentioned in my silly story are actually things I wouldn't mind pursuing, but for now, I'm just making baby food.  And for this busy mom who sometimes feeds my family peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for dinner, it was shockingly easy.  As in, EASY.  Let me break it down further.  It was cheap, it required minimal utensils, minimal effort, minimal time, and minimal clean-up.  I used to think of it as this foreign idea espoused by hippies and celebrities like Nicole Richie who have so much money they aren't sure what to do with themselves.  Let's just say I'm not usually "that mom," whoever she is.  But here's what really happened.

Ready-to-eat sweet potatoes.

I opened the front door and saw a package from Amazon.com.  It wasn't a holiday or anyone's birthday, which made it that much more exciting, and having torn into it with the glee of a dieter permitted a daily chocolate, I found a book sent from my awesome sister-in-law.  It was full of recipes for making baby food, and glancing through it, I realized how doable it really was.  Doable, preservative-free, and cheap.  You buy some veggies or fruit, you cook them for a bit, you blend them up with a bit of liquid (usually water), you pour the puree into ice cube trays, you let them freeze, then you pop them out into a freezer bag.  Suddenly you have a bag full of healthy, easy meals for your little one. 



Pureed Pears

I made the sweet potatoes first, and a total of 22 cubes, the equivalent of 11 small jars, cost me $2.00.  I then made the peas (in the thirty minutes Saturday morning that Jed was cooking breakfast), producing the same amount for less than $2.00.  Last night, I made pears, and that cost me $3.00. It really does take so little time, too.  And for ease of clean-up, Jed and I gave away our giant blender and bought a handheld one commonly used for smoothies.  I throw the food in a big mixing bowl and use the hand blender on them.  It's a lot easier to clean than a big blender, and storage in our small kitchen is a cinch.

I've received some interesting revelation through the process, too.  I'm cooking these foods at the simplest level with nothing added, allowing each item to stand on its own in all of its individual, flavorful glory.  They are all bright and colorful, rather than the gray-ish tone some jarred foods take, and they taste purely delicious, and I mean really, really delicious.  Have you ever tried your baby's jarred food?  If it tastes metally or chemically, why do we blame them for refusing some of it?  The organic stuff is pretty good, though, and follows the same principles of simplicity that I'm talking about here.  I'll certainly buy some jars as Adelaide gets older or if I run out of cubes and haven't made any more.  And Levi ate jarred baby food, some organic, some not, and he's turned out fine.  In fact, he's a fabulous eater.  So I'm not spurning the use of jarred food, just elucidating how remarkably simple it is to make your own.

Look how bright they are!

And seeing how simple and pure and basic and healthy Adelaide's food is has helped me to reconsider once again the food we put in our own mouths.  Jed came home right as I was pureeing her sweet potatoes.  He looked at the amount, tried a bite, heard the cost, and announced jokingly that perhaps that's what we all should be eating.  I think he's right.  I did make us some, and while I absolutely put a few tabs of butter, a touch of brown sugar, and a dash of cinnamon in them, I kept it minimal, moreso than I thought necessary in the past, and they were great.  That reminds me of one more helpful tidbit.  As long as your baby's doctor doesn't condemn it for your particular wee one, add the tiniest amounts of common spice to your baby's food when you're serving it.  Not salt!  But I added a touch of garlic or cinnamon or pepper to Levi's food when he was around 10 months old to acclimate him to the types of flavors he'll often find in our household, and he had no problem switching to the more complex flavors of family meals when the time came. 

Adelaide loves it!

We mommies tend to all the details of our families' lives, and as we eat about three times a day, what we feed our broods is nearly always on mind:  what to put on the grocery list this week, what's frugal, what will be quick for those nights that we're busy, what's on sale or in season, what will create good eating habits in our kids, what will keep mom and dad from getting fat, what to fix right now, what will be a special favorite that will excite everyone that day, what's for dinner, and on and on.  This discovery about making baby food has been, for me, an exciting one. 

Big thanks to Jennifer Pham for opening my eyes.  If you're interested in trying it yourself, hippie lifestyle optional, the book is called Baby Love, and I'm sure you could also find individual recipes online. 

Happy pureeing!



Levi's Thoughts on Yahweh

Three- and four-year-old kids say the greatest things.  You hear Bill Cosby talk about it and understand it, but then you live with one and can't help but laugh your way through most days.  They have an inspired and refreshingly transparent way of approaching new things as they try to understand them and assimilate them into their lives.  No question or concept or possibility is not worth pursuing.  Anything is possible, so they ask you tons of questions to determine where the boundaries exist.  Meanwhile, they're reminding you of the creativity and possibilities that come from thinking outside the lines we adults take for granted.

Lately, Levi has had a lot to say about Yahweh and a lot of questions about Yahweh.  How on earth do you explain these concepts to kids?!  Yet another reason to rejoice in Holy Spirit's indwelling.  Because kids are born spiritually alive, and because I want to protect and foster that and help Levi recognize Yahweh's voice, I refuse to just give him some sort of pat answer unless it's the best one for the moment.  Here are some of the issues that have arisen. 

While we were praying at bedtime and thinking of things for which to thank Yahweh, Levi suddenly said, "Mommy, can I call Yahweh 'Jackie Jack?'" 
I know there is revelation in the name Yahweh, and I want Levi to develop a healthy respect and fear of God, but this was hilarious to me!  I quickly listened for Yahweh's response and knew He was laughing, too.  I told Levi what I heard in my spirit:  "I think Yahweh would like having a nickname from you."

Levi:  "Where is Yahweh right now?"
Me:  "He's everywhere.  He's always with us no matter where we go."
Levi:  "Is He sitting in my lap?"
I love the questions that are hard for me to answer.  It makes me really think about things!
Me:  "Well, no, because He doesn't have a body.  He's a spirit."
This sufficed till a day or two later.

Levi:  "Does Yahweh have feet?"
Me:  "Not actual feet like we have.  He doesn't have a body like we have."
Levi:  "Does He have a belly button?"
I ended up explaining to him that we're spirits and live in our bodies and that Yahweh is a spirit who doesn't have to stay in one place in a body.  He's everywhere, even at our friends' houses.  How on earth can a three-year-old understand that?  Ha ha!

We're teaching Levi that He can talk to God and hear His reply.  The other day, I was holding Adelaide on the couch, and she was kind of clingy.  Levi was finished putting up with his lack of one-on-one attention, and I heard him say, "Yahweh, will you please hold Adelaide?"

Levi's first time to say a real, big-boy blessing at the dinner table went like this:
"Thank you, Yahweh, for our food, and thank you, Yahweh, for trains and trucks and trains and trucks, and thank you, Yahweh, for our food, and Aaaaamen."

Levi was playing Chutes and Ladders by himself, and when I stuck my head in the room to check on him, he said, "Yahweh's telling me how to play this game." 

I could likely go on and on, but these are a few of my favorite examples.  It makes for a good laugh, and it also inspires me to continue looking at things anew without taking things of the spirit for granted.  God is big enough to blow my mind and to have traits and plans that are beyond me.  His ways are higher than our ways.  I've really enjoyed Levi's ability to consider anything possible and to get me to reconsider what I think I know. 

As one of our worship songs goes,
"Emancipate my mind
As I embrace the impossible
Continue to stretch my thoughts and make me think like You
Mold Your character in me, clothed in Your righteousness
And elevate my expectations of what I will do."

I'm so grateful for the daily example I get of coming to the Father as a child.

November's Here! The Attitude of Gratitude Project Begins

My kids are living the good life:  a closet full of clothes, a beautiful home, three square meals a day (or multiple bottles, depending on the kid), a mind-blowing number of toys, extended family and friends that dote on them, and everything else.  Compared to other eras, people from some countries, and people from some areas in our own country, we live like royalty.  I've learned so much in the past eight years about the power of being grateful, and therefore, my kiddos get many a lesson on it.  If you see yucky behavior from someone, chances are a seed of unthankfulness played a part in it at some point.  So I look for ways to give my kids perspective, a thankful perspective.  On the flipside, I hope to prevent them from falling down the slippery slope of entitlement.

I read somewhere that one of the best things you can do for your child is this:  as soon as they're able, physically and emotionally, to perform a task, stop doing it for them.  Our hope is that they'll one day be competent, nay, extraordinary adults.  Theoretically, I give my firm head nod of affirmation to this ideal.  In real life it's harder, because, frankly, sometimes I'm in a hurry, and my almost four-year-old takes years to accomplish some tasks.  It's the nature of the preschooler.  Teaching thankfulness has to do with teaching responsibility, and while it's not always easy, it's not optional for me.

But not all lessons have to be so tough.  Life is fun!  Having character and doing what's right is rewarding, and if we can find that spoonful of sugar to help our parenting efforts go down, all the better.  So we've come up with the Attitude of Gratitude Project (If it rhymes, Levi loves it.).  I've always loved that the Thanksgiving holiday is this beautifully prepackaged, and fun, opportunity to talk about gratitude.  Fun is the language of preschoolers.  They understand fun.  Don't we all?  So rather than just build up the one day, we've decided around here to capitalize on it.  November will be a whole month full of gratitude. 

Our little project is simple.  Every day, we will think of someone we're glad is in our lives, then we'll do something fun on paper to let them know.  On Thanksgiving week, we'll send them out.  Hey, I said it was simple.  But for me, I'm going to have a chunk of time every day in which Levi and I can talk about thankfulness, why it's good, what happens when we're not grateful, and the reality that not everyone has what we have.  He'll be doing crafty stuff that he loves, and meanwhile, we'll get to have some great discussion.  We'll top it off with a day of turkey, sweet potatoes, green beans, cranberry sauce, pies, the Sweet Potato Pie Bowl, and revelry galore.  Nothing like a party to drive a lesson home and show you just how much you have to celebrate.

Mommy's Thrift = Adelaide's Avant Garde New Style

The time has come for opening up some storage space and maximizing our money.  In Adelaide's "room," a term I use loosely since we just put her crib against the wall in the now disorganized office/music room/storage room, the closet has been storing the eight-and-counting boxes of all of Levi's clothes since his birth.  Who knows if we're finished having kids or not, but what if, one day, we have another?  And what if it's a boy?  We'll be set!  But what if we don't?  Or what if it's a girl?  Too many variables.  Time to get rid of the boxes.

I lugged them out and down to the living room.  For a good friend who has a baby boy, I started washing load after load of 6-9 month and 12 month clothes.  Her pile began to grow next to its box on the floor.  To make some cash at Once Upon a Child, I started washing load after load of everything smaller.  This pile slowly grew on the couch.  Anything with a stain that wouldn't budge went into one of two piles on the other couch for either the trash or Goodwill, depending on the stain.  Some of them were hardly noticeable.  Treasures with which I couldn't part went into their own pile on the back of the first couch.  Ever notice how messes tend to get worse before they get better when you're trying to get organized? 

I'll take a quick jog down this rabbit trail and marvel that, of the fifty-hundred-and-thirty amazingly cute, pristinely cleaned, and in-mint-condition clothes I proudly bestowed upon the bored-looking, tattooed young lady at Once Upon a Child, they only took about eight items and paid me ten bucks.  I was thrilled with the cash, but I couldn't pursue my earnest desire to understand the still full box I was reluctantly hauling back to my car, because Adelaide had reached her limit and was screaming at me.

Let's go back for a hike through the hills in my living room.  Mounds of varying height gave the room that distinct, freshly laundered aroma.  You know each pile's purpose, save one, and this is the one that surprised me.  I had created a pile for Adelaide.  Adelaide is our baby girl.  I had recently penciled a small list of items Adelaide will likely need as she grows through the coming cold months, and as I went through Levi's baby clothes, I began connecting the dots and finding things that I felt sure Adelaide could pull off.  Meanwhile, I was checking off my list.  That is Mom Thrift at its finest!  Making your daughter wear her brother's hand-me-downs is, I realize, probably shocking to some and probably something many others have done, but it wasn't until that moment that it dawned on me.  There's something about getting more use out of an adorable and perfectly good outfit that left me highly satisfied. 

Don't worry.  I'm not putting her in camo-dump-truck outfits with the phrase "Mommy's Boy" on them.  But the truth is, I'm pretty thrilled to have some options for my sweet girl that aren't hot pink.  Dressing girls is as fun as they say, but I found that dressing a little boy is just as fun.  Dressing a girl in her brother's clothes has added a whole new element to the game!  The possibilities have busted wide open, and it's stirring up my creativity once again.  I'll mix-and-match with some girly things, and she'll be ever as sweet and feminine, I promise.  ;)

Space made, money made, and discoveries made.  Not bad for a day's work.

OK, maybe it's not so avant garde, but Adelaide
wears Levi's hedgehog shirt pretty well, don't you think?

To Halloween, or Not to Halloween...

I love dramatic make-up and elaborate costumes and candlelit parties.  Small children dressed as bugs and cowboys and various animals make my heart puff up and my mouth grin.  There's just something about the silliness of it and the chance to pretend, to be an actor, to put on somebody (or something) else's shoes (or paws/antennae/whatever) that appeals to us.

But we don't do Halloween at our house.  Crazy, but true.  It's the second most celebrated holiday, after Numero Uno Christmas, and I'm not sure what determines its #2 standing other than cold hard cash.  I find that it's peddled hard, and the only holiday peddled harder is, you guessed it, Christmas.  Because they're the two where the cash is.  Christmas is a no-brainer, but when you think of costumes and makeup and candy and decorations, oh my!...you begin to see the dollar signs in H$LL$W$$N pretty quickly.  So, what are we thinking, skipping out on #2?  I mean, really.  I re-read this and think, "What a couple of joy-killing curmudgeons" (one of Jed's favorite words, by the way...use it in a FB post on his wall).

First, let me say that I do get it.  It's super fun for kids, to be sure.  Candy is scrumptious.  Dressing up is delightful.  Tradition is important and gratifying and memory-making.  When I was growing up, we didn't celebrate Halloween in my parents' house either.  I was always kind of bummed that I couldn't get the greatest costume out there and go out with all my friends, be part of the corporate festivities, and just have fun, for goodness' sake.  My parents would turn out all the lights and hide in the back of the house so no one would think we were home and knock on our door.  No joke, people.  They aren't puritanical weirdos, either.  They just felt strongly about Halloween. 

We don't go quite that far around here, mind you.  And we did do Harvest festivals when I was a kid, which I'm still contemplating.  Can I ask an honest question here?  I think I shall.  Is it old and tired to anyone else when the church copies exactly what the world's doing but calls it something else to make themselves feel better about it?  Oh goodness, I know I just stepped on a lot of toes!  I just stepped on my own toes.  I'm just thinking out loud and think it's a fair question.  Let's gingerly back away from this one for now, shall we?  Steady now...steady now...there.  Safe.  *dusting myself off*  Everybody OK? 

Tiny tree's fall foliage.

Now I have kids of my own, and one is age three, just the age where he could really start to get into it.  So I've been asking myself, "OK, what do I really think about all this?  What will we do?  And WHY?"  I don't do things just because that's the way it's been done.  I want a reason.  I want to dig deep.  What's in my spirit?  And I don't want to get all "weirdo-religious-girl" and legalistic about something, especially if it doesn't matter.  Enjoying Halloween festivities is not a sin, and I've already been through the phase where I did it just because I realized I could.  But that's not a good reason to do anything, so ponder I did.

I first considered that Halloween customs stem from pagan beginnings.  That's not necessarily enough to make it taboo, though, because Christmas and Easter are riddled with pagan custom.  I can trim a tree and hide Easter eggs with the best of them.  A friend of mine told me that, growing up in the Catholic Church (she's no longer Catholic), Halloween for her was understood as a time to show reverence for those who have gone before us and paid a price for where we are today in Christendom.  That's a great idea, and I'd never understood that component for Catholics.  But it isn't really Halloween, but the day after, All Saints' Day, in which they pay their respects.  And obviously, dressing up like a witch and going trick or treating isn't accomplishing that laudable goal.  The best way to honor those who've gone before us and paid a price is to live our own lives with the same fervor, successfully carrying the torch along our portion of the race.

So our decision ultimately boiled down to one simple thing:  fear.  Halloween compounds and celebrates and plays with fear.  Now, I would love to see my three-year-old son dressed up like a cowboy or a ninja or, don't judge, but he could pull it off, Angelina Jolie (Just trust me on this one!), because it would be silly and fun.  But if that's really all that important to me, I have 364 other days in which I can dress him up for silly good times.  But Halloween draws from its ancient Druid beginnings, oozing with superstition, fear, and witchcraft.  These things are all antithetical to my incredible God, the power of His presence, and the perfect love we have through Him, which casts out all fear.

Now I'm certainly not trying to preach a sermon.  But I have to say that even when I was bummed about not celebrating Halloween growing up, I always thought it was kind of cool that my parents had this standard and that they held the line and wouldn't cave and let us do it just because that's what many others do.  It gave me that feeling of being set apart.  A holiday consumed with vampires, ghouls, goblins, angry wandering souls, witches, eyeball stews, hexes, and curses is not my kind of holiday.  And I don't want to be violent about the Kingdom of God, as I am, and then have to reconcile what I teach my kids along those lines every day of the year with what we would seem to be celebrating on that one day, if we celebrated it.  My God does not give us a spirit of fear but of power and of love and of a sound mind.  Fear is our enemy.  I will only ever introduce to them the reality that it's under our feet, not something upon which to cast our flirtations.

So there you have it.  That's what we do at our house, and this is an abridged explanation of why.  On the other hand, though, we absorb the northeastern fall season into our lives with as much gusto as we can muster.  We do carve (happy) faces into pumpkins and pick apples and decorate with unique leaves and acorns.  We do eat candy (all year long, folks, I won't lie), and we do think it's fun to play dress-up.  But this is where we draw the line.  And just so you know, we have good friends that we love and respect who do celebrate Halloween, and we don't get mad at them and hope they have a great time.  Every family for itself!  That's the way it should be.

Have a great fall season, however you choose to enjoy it.

Not a "Mega site of Bible studies and information"

I started typing "snugbutton" in my address bar on my computer.  When the window of possible completions popped up, the first choice was a site I've never seen with an all-too-familiar-looking title:  www.snugbutton.blogpot.com.  It is a "Mega site of Bible studies and information."  I really do hope to be inspiring, but this is not I.  Upon closer investigation by my astute husband, he found that it was actually "blogPOT," not "blogspot."  Pretty sly!  So if this happens to you when you're trying to find my blog, don't be thrown off the scent or assume any affiliation.  That's all.  Just a little housekeeping.  You ladies know anything about that? 

The Elusive Cup of Hot Coffee

Startle awake.
Baby stirring.
Preschooler still asleep?!
Feed baby.
Snuggle on couch.
Warmth.
Preschooler awake.
Pat coffeemaker:  "Let's see how today goes."
Start coffee.
Slight scent of coconut.
Oatmeal on stove.
Fry eggs.
Preschooler eats.
Baby fussing.
Eyeing my egg and oatmeal.
With longing...
Baby nap.
Oatmeal and egg to my seat.
Pour coffee.
Steam, sugar, cream.
Preschooler playing outside.
Knock, knock, knock!
Preschooler at the door.
Step away from food.
Answer door.
"No more knocking."
Back to food.
Knocking on door.
Preschooler:
"UPS man!"
"No more knocking!"
Back to food.
Cold oatmeal.
Pasty.
Preschooler needs gloves.
Back to food.
Rubbery egg down.
Cold oatmeal down.
Cold coffee...
Baby fussing.
Microwave coffee.
Paci re-inserted.
Wonderful drink of hot coffee!
Creamy, sweet, hot, delicious!
Preschooler ready for Play-Doh.
Play.
Pick up.
Use toothpick to dig out tiny Play-Doh bits.
From everywhere.
Microwave coffee.
Play.
Pick up.
Clean.
Go for walk.
Clean.
Start dinner.
Preschooler DVD.
Dinner.
Clean up.
Make decaf.
"Where's my coffee cup?"
Brush preschooler's teeth.
Baby to bed.
Preschooler in PJs.
Stories.
Night night.
Downstairs.
Coffee cup in microwave.
Stale, cold coffee.
Stale, cold coffee down the drain.
New cup.
Fresh hot decaf!
Creamy, sweet, hot, and delicious.
Empty cup.
Ahhhhh.

Another Mom Blog? You Know It!

Why do you think it is that mom blogs are so prevalent?  It has to be that the incredible stories in which we play a starring role--unfolding between the walls of our homes, behind the wheels of our cars, in the doctor's waiting room--are chock full of drama, humor, and love unimaginable.  The experience is at once gloriously other worldly and drudgingly banal.  So we moms just have to share with the world the daily miracles of human development that bud forth before our eyes daily.  It is a miracle.  We moms also relish the gift of grown-up discourse, and if blogging gives us more opportunity to partake, so be it! 

In this blog (and might I add here for no real purpose that I hate the word "blog!"), I'll probably talk a lot about pregnancy, newborns, and young kids.  And we'll see where it goes from there.  So let the laughing, the crying, the crazy sleepy-eyed stumbling, the pooping, the swinging, the cleaning, the training, and did I say laughing?...begin!