The State of the Family

Technically I'm not the CEO of the family -- that title belongs to Luke. But I think it's a safe move to assume the title of Chief Operations Officer. So here it is...the state of the Pearson family -- a glimpse behind to 2008 and a hopeful stare into the future for what 2009 has in store.

The Old
I quit my job a very short 6 months ago and have enjoyed almost every moment. It would be an outright lie to claim every moment -- ask Luke how many times I've called waving my white flag of surrender. Jack potty-trained at a break-neck pace leaving those toddler diapers a distant memory for mom! Jack also began official pre-school and has taken to it like a champ. Sam grew from a wee-one to a WALKER -- you should see him go! He also became the proud owner of 14 teeth. Luke led us to teach kindergarten Bible study which has been a blessing in both our lives. He also worked his way up the corporate ladder which while not his goal is a nice thing to achieve nonetheless.

The New
I am slowly getting plugged into various ministries at church now that work doesn't fill my time. I'm also trying on different hats to find my hobby -- what a novelty that is. Hopefully this new year will be filled with new experiences on both fronts. Jack has little league basketball and baseball to look forward to this year as well as the culmination of his first year of pre-school and the beginning of his second (and last) year. May this next year hold much success and enjoyment as he explores his interests in both sports and music. Sam has a whole new world open to him now that he can walk. We expect this next year to be full of firsts for him now that he can explore more fully the world around him. We also hope to hear more from him as he matures and learns to add to conversations more completely. Luke is setting his sights at more pre-school service as well the welcome team for the church. He is also preparing to sit for his PE (professional engineer) exam sometime this year (probably October). While not a requirement for his current position, it will certainly be an asset to his career. As far as family numbers are concerned, we anticipate beginning the journey to adding another to our numbers this year. No another baby is not in the works yet but sometime in 2009 we hope to experience the joy of announcing another's arrival.

We've wished you all a Merry Christmas so now our wish is for a Happy New Year!!

Musings on royalty

At the end of the day, the sun having long ago pulled in its last rays of light, the children silently exploring in their dreams, I squat sweeping up the remnants of our day -- bits of waffles, peanut butter sandwiches, chili for dinner, a few Christmas cake crumbs, some ribbon scraps from packages, pine needles from the sought after tree. I try to remember the last real shower I had, one that lasted longer than two minutes, one that allowed time to linger, to cleanse and feel pretty. A hard stare at hands and the realization hits that a manicure was not long passed, a day of pampering was just a few weeks ago but like everything temporal the paint chipped and the time to renew, to correct is a luxury unknown. And I sigh -- a deep heavy sigh, the kind of sigh that hopes to heave off heavy burdens, at least for the briefest of moments. Thoughts enter; dangerous self-talk fills space that I know should rightly be filled with holy words because to hide His word, to hide Him in that space shores up the walls against what is surely evil prowling beyond. These thoughts -- if only, I wish I could, I wonder if I should have or perhaps I shouldn't have -- act as foder for a fire that with every lap of flaming tongue shouts out in arrogance I'm better than this! And then the words, the tiniest bit of knowledge eeks out. From the Psalm of a man much wiser, more eloquent than I could ever be the knowledge that the King is enthralled by your beauty. Breath of fresh air reaches deep and splashes water droplets at the raging fire within, which though dampened only surges more fiercely on as thoughts of entitlement lumber in. Oh how naive am I to think the King would stop before work is done; barreling down on the fire comes the next line of this Holy word army: honor him, for he is your Lord. Instant death to fire. In that moment clarity dawns for, daughters of Zion, is that not what we long to do? To honor our King -- the one who is enthralled with our beauty? And how exactly do we honor him? We emulate. He became flesh, lowly and humble to serve. So then must we. And now as I finish the final sweep of the kitchen floor the thoughts no longer run of jobs more suitable for my stature but rather the mind is filled, overrun with praise for a Mighty King -- one that calls me daughter, one that is enthralled with my beauty, one that allows me to serve Him in the daily doings of life. He asks for nothing less than all of me (including the messy, tired mommy-facet) to worship -- to honor -- all of Him.

Jack loves bas-ket-ball.

Yay for little league basketball!! Jack is signed up at the local YMCA and is playing for the Mavericks! He has added basketball to his list of favorite things to play. Of course while he's playing mom has to be his cheerleader -- "He has giant feet, he's over 3 feet tall, he can dribble, he can shoot but that ain't all. Jack loves bas-ket-ball. Jack loves bas-ket-ball." -- a slight adaption from a cheer we used to teach the little girls during clinic.

Thursday was the team's first practice. I stayed home with Sam while the big boys trekked out for some good b-ball fun. According to Luke, Jack plays good defense but needs to work on his dribbling. Just the thought of my 38" tall little man attempting to dribble down court sends me into stitches. Also reported by Luke was that Jack wasn't there just for the basketball -- he was also there for the ladies. He made friends with some high school girls and after talking with him after practice it seems he was deliberately flirting. I asked if he made a girlfriend while he was there and his response was affirmative only to then continue by describing in detail the clothing worn by each young lady (there were two apparently). Here are some pictures of the night's activities. Jack is the one in the maroon jersery. Enjoy!

Our Dr. Xavier

First, to be quite clear, I don't do comic books -- at all. My knowledge of this very foreign genre is limited to what Hollywood has produced for the big screen. Within my miniscule library exists brief knowledge of X-Men. As I'm sure most know the head-hero, the good-guy-in-charge is Dr. Xavier with his special power of mind power -- moving things, finding things, seeing thoughts all with the brain.

Jack, very recently, has shown a desire to pull away from little kid cartoons in favor of big boy movies. Granted he has always been a fan of Indiana Jones and Ghostbusters but he was and is way too young to fill his day with these images so exposure was rightly limited. One day we stumbled upon X-Men 2 and Jack became enthralled. I decided to let it play out -- more for my information than his enjoyment. Jack was hooked; in my humble mom-opinion it was the fight scenes that did it, he is a boy after all. Later that evening Luke and Jack were discussing X-Men, going over each character and his/her power while also discussing that it's pretend not real. Jack stopped Luke at one point and asked, "Dad can you teach me to move things with my brain?" Luke's immediate answer, "NO."

Why no? Let's all be honest -- Jack has a big head and I'm not talking arrogance here folks. He is also really smart -- scary smart sometimes. You know and I know that mind control can't happen -- but what if we're wrong?? Luke didn't want Jack to spend all his time attempting to tap into the other 90% of his brain that we don't use. We're barely keeping up with him as it is. In all seriousness -- we are not so arrogant of parents to assume that our child is such supreme intelligence that he will be able to read minds, he talks about flatulence WAY TOO much for that to be true. We did think, however, it was interesting that of all the X-Men and all the powers, Jack chose the one with his brain.

Tagged...and a little something for Misty

Thanks to Misty for the tag. My instructions were as follows:

1. Open the 4th folder on my computer (I chose the 4th folder in the my pictures folder because nothing intesting happens in some random comp files).

2. Choose the 4th picture in that folder and post it on your blog.

3. Describe the picture

4. Tag 4 people

First let me say that I'm not tagging people...if you want to do it awesome -- I'd love to see the pictures. If you don't want to -- well there's one in every crowd (no pressure!)...

Here's my picture

The desription of this picture: It was taken 9/5/2005, making Jack not quite 3 months old. He was on the bed being CUTE. Obviously this picture missed the cute. But in true Valerie fashion I didn't delete it and yes Misty I printed. (For those who don't know, I take THOUSANDS of pictures -- no exaggeration -- I delete NONE of them and I print ALL of them.) Now it's your turn -- dig through those comp files and SHOW ME SOME PICS!!!

And for Misty -- I offer a slideshow for your amusement. These are all the pics from this particular photo session. As you can see I was having trouble getting the camera to look through the same cute lens I was seeing through. That and Jack just quit cooperating...and I was a VERY new mom. Why I offer foder for more teasing is beyond comprehension...at least we'll have more to laugh at for January's scrapbook night!!

O Christmas Tree...

Remember college nostalgia? Think back... Remember that feeling that your college town was the best place for (insert everyday item)? We all have them. College Station has this little Italian restaurant with THE best cannelloni; it has Layne's with THE best chicken strips and it has Mr. G's with awesome pizza (the best title goes to Gino's East in Chicago). For Luke and me it also has great Christmas trees. Our first Christmas with Jack we ventured to the Farm Patch and picked out an awesome tree -- it had a citrus smell, was a deep green, had hearty and sturdy branches -- it was the PERFECT tree. We have talked about the tree since that Christmas and like any good fish story the tree's legend grew with each telling. After our tree debacle last year (did you know they can be infested with mosquitos??? well they can and ours was) we decided this year we would go in search of a repeat perfect tree. We loaded the boys up and headed to College Station.

Now before you freak about the trip from our house Aggieland is an easy one hour trip. Our goal was to pick out a tree, have a little lunch (can you say Frittela??) and head home. The trip was scheduled for the day after Thanksgiving and we hoped was the start of a new Pearson tradition. We arrived at the Farm Patch only to discover that the sought after tree type had not arrived from it's home in Oregon and was not scheduled to arrive for another 9 days. After toying with the idea of making a return trip we decided that four hours in the car was ridiculous for a tree and purchased one that was available.

Now, December 17th -- we hope the tree makes it to Christmas Day. With the amount of needles dropping daily it appears that things will go down to the wire. Two thumbs up for us!! What did we learn from all this? Surely you don't expect me to tell you that we will buy a fake tree or that we'll pick a tree from a closer tree lot?? No, no, no. We're going to call the Farm Patch before we drive to make sure their shipment of Grand Firs has arrived...then we'll drive.

Jack update

No news is good news right??!! We haven't heard anything from Monday's tests. I called the pediatrician this afternoon and they are still waiting on the EKG. Thanks folks for praying. Luke and I are at peace...I've moved away from the edge and have smoothed the ruffled feathers. Have I mentioned I don't handle change well?? Too much change in one day for me I suppose. But as always God was faithful and walked me through the changes! Anyway, I'll keep folks updated as I hear news.

Jack and his heart

Dear Friends,
What a day we've had in the Pearson household today; I wish I could say that with a smile on my exhausted face but rather I'm left with much uncertainty and a little fear as the sun sets. Would you pray for Jack and his heart? And pray for this mommy-heart as well? Here's the story of our day...

Friday morning, December 12, we made our way to the ENT for Jack's pre-op appointment for the tonsillectomy. At the appointment we learned that our ENT was concerned because he heard what sounded like a systemic reflux heart murmur. We agreed to schedule an appointment with the pediatrician to confirm the diagnosis. As of Friday afternoon the surgery was on-hold.

Early this Monday morning, December 15 we awoke and hurriedly dressed for an 8AM appointment. Here's where I must sheepishly raise my hand and admit to being the mom that, despite checking the weather Sunday afternoon, did not know it was going to be 48 degrees...and dressed my kids in shorts. I fully expected this morning's appointment to be routine; I expected to get the all clear from the pediatrician and for surgery to proceed as scheduled. Can I say that did not happen, not at all?!!??!! The pediatrican confirmed the presence of a murmur and sent us to Hermann for cardiology tests (chest x-ray and EKG). She also scheduled a consult with a pediatric cardiologist.

As of tonight we hang in limbo. We know nothing really. I was nosey enough to find that the EKG showed that Jack had a normal sinus rhythm. That's about all we know. Right now we have an appointment scheduled for February 12th with the pediatric cardiologist (the earliest available??!!!). The pediatrician should receive the results from today's test in office Tuesday. At that point she will make the decision about whether to push for an earlier appointment date or not and we'll know about restrictions on Jack's activities -- the general course of treatment for now. Jack's surgery is officially postponed indefinitely as he now must be cleared by the cardiologist before the ENT will proceed.

The waiting is...well to be quite frank it's terrifying. We rushed from what we thought was a routine appointment straight to the Medical Center for tests. Now that the rushing is over, sitting in silence is a bit difficult. Especially with phrases like, "it might be a small hole in the heart causing the murmur" dancing in your memory.

So I ask again, would you pray for Jack and his heart? Pray that God's hand would remain on him during this season and that he would be healed. Pray for a peace for all of us, that we would find rest and comfort in the quiet, that we would be able to be still and know that He is God, that we would cling to God's promise that He has a plan in all of this.

Thank you dear friends. I'll keep you posted.

I got nothin' folks...

Brain overload. No room to form blog thoughts. Not entirely true -- blogging "pre-writes" done in pre-dawn hours while rocking baby...just never seem to make it beyond personal virtual notepad. So what's new??? Sam is walking (sometimes, when convenient), Jack is reading (a little -- mostly names of family), Luke is working and I am mom-ing. All are advent-ing (thanks KBC for fun little advent kits to spur the creativity along). Parents preparing for Jack's surgery (tonsillectomy next Thursday). Creating new family traditions this holiday season -- only 3 gifts for each -- one want, one need, one to grow relationship with God. Daily advent to learn the beauty of Christ in all facets. Next year...maybe Jesse tree??

All for now as there are dishes to wash, babies to bed, day to prepare for, marriage to cultivate. I read this today...eternal perspective on humdrum life.

Jack's wish

As he placed a whole, unbaked, sugar cookie dough round in his mouth, realizing it didn't quite fit, Jack exclaimed, "I wish my mouth was bigger!"

Why do I always choose flight?

If given the choice between fight or flight, why do I always choose flight? Especially in situations dealing with my kids, why don't I choose the fight option more often? Why am I so willing to flee than fight for my kiddos? I'm having one of those "I suck at this mommy business days" -- you know the ones where you take a retrospective look at events and your actions and reactions and realize that you failed your kids in a royal way. Well, that's my today. The events don't matter much but my reaction to them matters. When I should have been strong and brave and forthright and outspoken and a MOM I chose to be timid, quiet, passive. Are my kids going to pay for it? I hope not. Oh Lord I hope not. All this made me think about this mother rhino I encountered at Disney once. My sister reached her arm precariously over the side of the moving vehicle in an attempt to interact with an adorable baby rhino. Mommy Rhino was having none of it and was ready to attack Kristen and the moving vehicle all in an effort to defend her young. I should be more like that -- ready to protect my kids regardless of the source of harm. Rather what do I choose? I choose far too often to let my fear of rejection, my need for acceptance stifle my natural, God-given (and often justified) instinct to protect.


I was reminded (again) today how much I've been taught about faith since becoming a mother. You wanna know a humbling thought? Paul said he counted his gains as loss for Christ and His glory. I often choose not to stand up for my kids (while a lot of thought doesn't go into the decision, it is a choice nonetheless) because I am afraid of losing...losing comfort, losing friends, losing acceptance. How much more should my desire be to fight for my King?!?!! And how much more do I fail!!?!


A kick to the knee, a punch to the stomach, a hit to the head -- after the past few days my spiritual self is feeling a little beat up. Time to focus not on how much and how frequently I fail but to crawl into a lap and glory in perfect love. And after that what's needed? A good long talk in the mirror to answer the question I always ask Jack, "what did we learn from this?".

Shame on you Motrin

As a baby-wearing mama I take this ad to heart. Apparently the ad-guys over at Motrin forgot their key demographic. Way to alienate consumers!! From experience I can say that most, if not all, of the claims made in the ad are completely false. Sam did actually cry less, my back was far less strained when he was in his sling than in his carrier or my arms, I felt more relaxed because I felt more like a person than a baggage handler, and on and on. I hope Motrin wises up and fixes this faux-pas. (I thought about ending this with a cute little pun but they were all dumb so I left well enough alone.)

Vent

I've been wanting to compose a vent of my own for some time now -- a diatribe of the wrongs and ills in my life -- a giant of scream of "IT'S NOT FAIR!!". But I simply can't bring myself to do it; it seems that everytime I sit down to write my vent all my thoughts are turned to others facing huge crises on their own. I read today of a sweet young lady coming to grips with her imminent death and of another couple facing the reality of a failed adoption. My problems...well they aren't really problems at all are they?? Basically all I want to do is a little I, I, I, I, I, me, me, me, me, me, why, why, why -- when what I should focus on is Him, Him, Him. Humbling...

Separation of Church and sex

An interesting and much needed take on sex in the church today. For far too long has the contemporary church been silent on this issue and unfortunately our culture is paying the price. Haven't seen the sermon but I have to send kudos for shaking the foundations of the unchurched -- this certainly isn't what most assume they'll hear from the comfort of the pew.

Mayonnaise from Heaven

Children's versions of Bible stories are always the best, and I'm not referring to the stories in children's Bibles but rather the stories from the very mouths of the littlest ones. It is such a blessing to see in action the faith of the child and I find these stories at times just as challenging as the sermons I hear. Jack came home yesterday talking about Moses and his bread with worms -- it figures the part he remembers best is the worms, that's a boy for you! After he told us the story I asked him if he knew what the bread from heaven was called and he said, "It was mayonnaise from Heaven." Despite our attempts at correction he was sure that he in fact knew better than his parents. While a humorous episode in our house Luke and I exchanged glances knowing the spiritual growth we were watching; tiny sprouts of faith were poking their heads through the soil of Jack's heart because a teacher took the time to plant the seeds with stories of Moses and the "mayonnaise from Heaven."
Thank you God for your ways that are higher than ours, for your thoughts that are greater. Teach us to cultivate this faith, to water it and nourish it and tend to it as it grows that it might become an oak of righteousness.

WOW

I consider myself a relatively eduated person: I have a college degree, a few hours in a master's program (that I'll probably never finish but that's a different post), I've worked in a specialized field, I read when time permits -- I mean I figure I've got a decent grasp on the world of "to-know." At least I thought I did until I came across a particular advertisement. Luke forwarded this to me -- I think secretly to test my skills of deduction (I failed miserably, by the way!). The ad was entitled, "wow char for sale"; immediately the English teacher in me assumed that char was really chair, a product of a simple typographical error. Boy was I wrong -- the first line of the ad proved that beyond a shadow of a doubt reading, "1 Undead Mage level 70 Char with both pvp/pve sets. All epics, no blues" WHAT??? The longer I read the VERY lengthy ad the more I became certain my brain was going to implode -- the letters I know, even some of the words I know but I couldn't make sense of what it was saying. Finally, after a little help from Luke, I realized that the ad in question was selling a character for the popular game World of Warcraft. Did you know people sell these characters? And how much do you suppose a character goes for in the gaming world? I bet you aren't guessing high enough as this particular ad wants a whopping $650 for it's character. I didn't pay that much for my kitchen table! Now I've splurged in my time on items some might deem ridiculous -- the sassy Stuart Weitzman shoes I wore on my honeymoon for example -- but I cannot imagine paying $650 for a FILE on a computer server with which to play a game. I almost choked when I realized it was going to cost $150 for Jack to play little league basketball IN REAL LIFE. So I ask, in all serious, did you know this world existed? If you are part of this world, PLEASE explain to this very ignorant blogger the value of such a file that would prompt anyone to part with that much money.

Walking in Other Shoes

We've all heard it, that phrase in its many variations that demands empathy declaring it beneficial; those of us in education have used it to instruct the young be they students or our own brood -- walk in someone else's shoes, how does it make you feel, think about what that means to others...

While an upright and correct way to teach the young, I have stumbled upon one small problem with our method. At some point we must instruct, we must be taught that to live in the shoes of others is to stop living our own lives. Living vicariously often leads to not living at all. The evidence to this truth is pervasive: Sam inevitably sits on the sidelines and watches Jack perform and only when I separate the two does Sam begin to stretch his wings, to experiment with his own existence; voracious readers find themselves sucked deeply into the lives, the worlds of their favorite story (consider the Harry Potter and Twilight phenomenon). I doubt that Sam is consciously aware of the often vicarious nature of his relationship with Jack -- right now he is simply in hero-worship awe of his big brother. The danger creeps in at the very moment he decides that watching is better than doing, hence the mommy-forced separation -- there is a need for both to develop without the other. But others, more advanced on the life journey do realize this break from reality (or if they do not represent an even larger concern) and it is to that group that I first relate and then issue caution.

So let me see some listening ears all you dreamers. Be careful in your dreaming you do not lose sight of the real, be watchful in your vicariousness you do not brake the realities unfolding in your own life, be cautious in your empathy you do not lose sight of your path. It's a thin line between dreaming and coveting, between taking a step in someone else's shoes and losing your own.

And in case you were wondering -- my listening ears, the ones who need to hear this the most, are wide open.

I won't say I told you so but...

A conversation I had with Jack this afternoon post-school.

Jack: Is there a baby in your tummy, mommy?
Me: (in my most offended tone, thinking "doesn't this kid know I've just lost 20 lbs??!!") NO!
Jack: why not?
Me: Remember, the baby came out. He's sitting right over there (point toward Sam).
Jack: Do you have any more babies in there?
Me: Nope, no more babies.
Jack: why not?
Me: because. there just aren't any more babies in there
Jack: well there should be. we need more babies.
Me: oh yeah, how many more babies do we need?
Jack (holds up ten fingers spread wide): BUNCHES!!
Me (laughing): really? should we have them all at once or one at a time.
Jack (eyes roll up to the right as he ponders this): whatever!

And then he ran off to play. I told you it would come up again, this idea of more babies. I wish I knew where he was getting it!

My cotton baby

We researched, we purchased and then we did a trial; the result -- add my name to the list of cloth diapering mamas. I love my cd's!! It hasn't been any more difficult than disposables and I know I've saved money and did a little to help the environment too. There are some things I've had to re-think (outings to playgroup for example) but a little thinking never hurt anyone, right?! Sam doesn't seem to mind the change although he is ready for mom to figure out those prefolds already!! Right now we are using a combo of one-size pocket diapers (these look just like a standard disposable diap) and prefolds (more traditional cloth diap) and truthfully I like them both equally. The pockets are easier right now because like I not-so-subtly alluded to earlier I haven't quite gotten the knack to a good fold for the pre-fold but that should come with a little practice.

Here's what we are using: bumgenius 3.0 one size pockets, happy heiny's one size pockets, and mommy's touch one size pockets; bleached Chinese pre-folds and bummi's super whisper cover. I haven't tried snappi's with the pre-folds because I'm a little nervous about snapping some man business in the process! And don't even think about suggesting a pin -- I can barely get earrings into already made holes! We tried a bumwear one size pocket but had a problem getting a good fit in the leg area.

I know some cd'ing moms check in here periodically so send any advice you may have this way! Detergent recommendations (right now I am using Tide powder)? Folding tricks?

A big THANKS to my friend Misty who, despite having her sweet baby a little over a week ago, has tirelessly answered my million and one questions and got me on my way to cd'ing success!!

Hope and a future

On a day with frightening possibilities lurking just beyond the horizon it is easy for me to lose sight of how things actually work in life. My God is in control. I thought I would post a few things that have brought me a little peace amidst the anxiety of the day.

Scripture shared by my dear friend Andrea
Deuteronomy 17:18 "...be sure to select as king the man the LORD your God chooses."
Proverbs 11:14 "Without wise leadership, a nation falls..."
James 1:5-6 "If you need wisdom, ask our generous God, and he will give it to you. He will not rebuke you for asking. But when you ask him, be sure that your faith is in God alone. Do not waver, for a person with divided loyalty is as usettled as a wave of the sea that is blown and tossed be the wind."
Job 28:23&28 "God alone understands the way to wisdom; he knows where it can be found. And this is what he says to all humanity: 'The fear of the Lord is true wisdom; to forsake evil is real understanding,'"
1 Timothy 2:1-4 "I urge you, first of all, to pray for all people. Ask God to help them; intercede on their behalf, and give thanks for them. Pray this way for kings and all who are in authority so that we can live peaceful and quiet lives marked by godliness and dignity. This is good and pleases God our Savior, who wants everyone to be saved and to understand the truth."

A blog post by Omar Garcia on Expectant Faith

Church Franchises

We did a lot of driving this weekend -- out to Pearland, back to Katy, then back to Pearland and then back to Katy. I don't mind these trips; they usually give Luke and me the opportunity to talk to one another about anything and nothing. These are the few times when we are able to spill ideas like we did when we were dating.

I noticed something interesting this time. I don't know if this is a phenomenon elsewhere but it appears as though Houston has a sudden quickly growing crop of what can only be termed as franchise churches. These franchise churches started out like any other church but have grown to such massive sizes that the pastors have decided a second location is warranted. These franchise churches aren't daughter churches born from the greats, set out with some support to make their own way and their own impact. Rather these are shoots of the original -- empty shells all to be filled on Sunday with the same man in the pulpit. Some of these franchises are limited to one or two "campuses", usually separated by the sprawling metropolis of Houston, one on the North side and the other to the south, with staggered service times allowing the pastor to make his way via motorcade to each campus. Others of these franchises are spread throughout the city, meeting in movie theaters where the Sunday morning sermon is watched via closed circuit television; members get the message without the drive to the main campus.

I have to wonder as I pass these franchise churches (one of which has a campus just down the street from my home) what logic bore them. What thought entered the minds of the men in charge that led them to believe that rather than plant new churches it would be better to expand the original? Was it Greed? Pride? Or something more wholesome and less sinister? Our home church has planted 3 daughter churches in recent history -- two since we joined two years ago. And to these churches we have a responsibility -- to plant them isn't to send them out and hope they succeed but rather to tend to and care for, to support in prayer, in word, in deed and in $$ until each is capable to sustain itself in the task of reaching it's specific community. Why did we plant each? There was a need and God himself spoke to members of the congregation, calling them to meet this need. The entire process seems completely logical and more importantly Biblical...which brings me back to my original question. What is the motivation to found the franchise church? How do they foster true Biblical community, where members "do life" together and are more than Sunday morning greeting exchangers? Have these churches sacrificed so many important things in the name of convenience? Or, again less sinister, are these churches meeting a real need, ministering to a forgotten and typically unreached people group, filling a void that the typical church left gaping?

I'm not certain I know the answer. I know what seems to be the answer but I could be totally off-base for who am I to judge the hearts of man?

A barrel of laughs

I know...the third post today...but I couldn't end the day without sharing Jack's latest comedy routine. Of course he didn't intend any of this to be comedic; nonethless Luke and I were in stitches.

On the way to church this evening we listened to Jack's rousing version of "Glorious Day" by Todd Agnew; he belts it out for all to hear. Coming home, the cd changer had switched to the next cd in line which happens to be one of the collection from Northgate Noise. In particular we ended up listening to "All the Gold" -- I actually have no idea what the given title of the song is. Anyway, we had to sit in the car until the song concluded; when the door opened to the back seat Jack began belting out acapella "all the gooooold in califoooonia is in a bank in the middle of bearly knolls in somebody else's name. so if you're dreeeeeeaaaamin' about califooooonia it don't matter at all where played befo' califooonia's a brand new game." He was so loud I was worried the neighbors were going to come out of their houses. (and no, we don't listen to this often...Jack just has a way with music memorization).

Move to inside. We were letting the boys play a little before bath in hopes they would both come down from their super-stimulated post church phase. Jack handed Luke a red bouncy ball and then held up a little Gideon Bible someone gave him a long time ago. He asked, "Do you know which sir this Bible belongs to?" Completely confused by the question Luke answered in the negative. Jack responded, "Mr. Jack! And now I'm going to tell you a story." Jack opened the Bible like it was a picture book with the text facing out and said, "a long time ago there was a man named David. And there were some Jewish people and they RAN AND RAN AND RAN (picture Jack doing the running man style dance). The end." We eventually asked enough questions to discover that Jack combined the stories of Moses leading the Jewish people out of Egypt with a character sketch of David in his pre-king days. He was so cute it was difficult to keep a straight face. Plus you can't see the running-man and not laugh.

Ever tried to herd cats?

Luke and I first heard this saying uttered by a passer-by one Sunday as we tried to convince our class of 12 two year olds to walk quickly from the playground back to the classroom. Truer words have never been spoken. The phenomenon was repeated again today as during our playgroup's annual costume party we moms attempted to convince 12 small children ranging in age from almost 4 years -- 6 months to sit still while we snapped photos like the French paparazzi. I'd post the pics that I did get but I know some moms are wary about their little ones faces online. But so you know we didn't get a single shot of everyone sitting much less in the same scene all at once. Most kids are in various stages of climbing up and down the furniture or crawling to mom or crying in every single shot. Plenty of shots include close-ups of mommy bottoms. There are very few smiles as most of the kids look a little freaked by all the goings-on. After the picture of course we did figure out that a cookie in every hand would have solved most of the issues. Oh well, there's always next year!

It's a hard knock life...

Bless my baby's heart. He had a rough morning of learning some pretty difficult lessons. Turning the other cheek and realizing we are called to a higher standard are tough for adults to master much less my three year old. But like I mentioned, today Jack faced both.

In a Bible study I'm working through right now I realized -- or rather more accurately God rebuked me -- that I have not been parenting through Scripture. My rules and guidelines are of course based therein yet while I am always mindful to explain reasoning to Jack (even if it's "because God made me responsible for you") I've never slowed down long enough to teach Jack the Scripture that birthed the guidelines. The ability to immediately put into action my recent realization made this morning such a sweet experience with Jack. We pulled away from the other kiddos like always (no one needs to see correction) and I explained to Jack that sometimes things happen that don't seem fair and sometimes friends act ugly to us BUT God teaches us that we should love everyone even if they are being ugly and that God never says it's okay to be mean to someone just because he/she was mean first. The lesson had to make a couple of passes through Jack's head and we had quite a lengthy conversation as he worked through what this new lesson meant and what ramifications his newfound knowledge had on his behavior and attitude.

In the end, the lesson seemed to make a difference. But goodness was it hard for my mommy-heart to teach him these things; I wanted to right the wrongs and correct the injustices for him. I only thought the hard part of parenting was the late nights. I told Luke if I knew pre-children how hard this would be I might have tempered the baby-fever a little longer. Jack has since calmed and the issues of the morning have faded from his memory; me on the other hand -- I am having a little trouble coming down from the ledge...perhaps I should go stand in front of the mirror and have a little chat with myself about forgiveness.

A New Favorite Read

I took the blog list off but this new one is entirely too wonderful not to mention. The author is Omar Garcia: Missions and Evangelism Pastor at KBC, possessor of a truly mission-minded heart complete with a desire to help lay folks navigate the sometimes treacherous world of mission fields, gifted writer and teacher.

Omar's blog shares its title with the Missions ministry at KBC (Go Beyond); the blog is full of stories from Omar's travels and of lessons he has learned, tidbits of treasure that he has found along his many mission adventures. He so eloquently and gently shares each experience all the while challenging and encouraging readers to Go Beyond.

If you've got a moment or two to spare I encourage you to visit Omar's blog. It's worth the time!

Go Beyond Blog

Man Business

Serious parenting dilemma here folks -- need some insight. Hopefully there is a preschool teacher reading or a more experienced mom or at least someone with a half more clue than I have....

Background info pertinent to problem: Attempting to teach kids to be independent. At 3 this includes solving playground problems without tattling -- when a kid hits Jack knows to express his lack of appreciation for the action to the offender first (with words not fists). While I understand that as a man-in-training Jack is a warrior in God's image it simply will not do to have him pummel every bully out there -- plus we all know the guy who hits back is the one that gets caught, it's never the kid who initiates.

Setting: At church after Wednesday night meal, in the gym waiting for WAM (kids choir) to start. Little kids are running amok, parents are off to the side watching and chatting.

Scene: Jack runs up to me holding his crotch. My first thought is that he is about to have a bathroom emergency (sometimes he plays a little too hard and forgets to go). Oh no...was I ever wrong. His eyes well up with tears and he says, "that boy kicked me in the weiner." (ouch I think) So I give my usual tattling comeback (and yes in this instance the tattling was warranted but still...Jack has more than a sufficient vocabulary to handle himself here) "well you know what to do -- tell him you don't appreciate being kicked and that it really hurt and ask him not to do it again." Jack was ready for this response, answered okay and ran to confront his attacker. Good boy I thought. At this point I begin watching Jack a little more closely (and the kicker too). Jack is running with his best buddy Mason and then stops to talk to a grown-up who has joined the game. I recognize said grown-up as kicker's mom. At that point kicker walks up, rares back and kicks Jack AGAIN in the crotch AGAIN. I expected kicker's mom to handle things so I simply walked over and collected my injured child. All mom did was say the little boy's name (Luuuuukkkkeee) and let him continue playing. THAT WAS IT...

So here is the dilemma -- In hindsight I realize that I should have taken a more active role in the situation and said something BUT there will undoubtedly be times (like school for instance) when situations like this are repeated and no adult is there to intervene. How do I teach Jack to handle this situation? I don't want Jack to walk around kicking kids in the crotch but perhaps in this situation a kick in the man business would've taught the offender a lesson worth learning. I don't want to raise fighters but I certainly don't want to raise sissies either. At 3 I suppose the responsibility falls to me to solve the problem (with the mom not the kicker) and I failed miserably last night...but the situation will inevitably repeat at some point in Jack's lifetime.

uggghhhh...the entire situation left me feeling yucky and out of balance all night.

Day of Remembrance

I should be updating family via our personal website but I didn't want to miss this opportunity. Tomorrow, October 15, is the National Day of Remembrance for infant and pregnancy loss. While I personally have never experienced the agony of losing a child (born or not) I have friends and family members who have suffered anguish over their little ones' passings. Let's all take a moment tomorrow and pray for those who have suffered loss that God will exhange beauty for their ashes, gladness for their mourning and a garment of praise for their spirit of despair.

Here is a blog that I follow Bring the Rain. The author knows a thing or two about loss -- and she invites you and I encourage you to leave in remembrance your own story. Be advised: her blog is not one to read if you aren't somewhere that tears are welcome.

I was looking for a muse...

Realizing it has been some time since my last post I have been searching for a muse. Something to inspire the creative spark, to spur on the writing bug to bite -- for no other reason than I hope this blog and the family website maintain a dichotomous relationship. I was coming up blank -- nothing and I mean NOTHING was happening that was blog worthy...until tonight...

We made the trek to Pearland to have dinner with my parents and sister (Kristen rarely comes home -- between work and finishing school and finding a job -- so her visit prompted the trip). The fam made its way to the Pearland watering hole that my father has been visiting since he moved to Pearland in 1968, the place that my family frequented weekly until I left for college (the trips continued only I was absent): Juanito's. Juan's -- as it's affectionately called by my folks -- is a quaint little eatery where you can get Mexican food and for old-time Pearlanders still see people you recognize. I digress...we had finished a somewhat quiet dinner (Jack and Sam were there) and were on our way out when I ran into an old high school friend, his wife, newbaby and in-laws. Here is where it gets interesting...

This particular "old friend" actually used to be a boyfriend -- for about 2 months my freshman year (we started dating around Homecoming and had broken up before my birthday). We were in band together and remained friends after the break-up, obviously reserving some time for wounds to heal. I moved on and began dating someone else and eventually my "friend" found a new girlfriend (who is now his wife). She hated me back then -- with a passion that was and is unrivaled -- and I never really knew why. Life happened and we all moved on. I went to TAMU, met Luke, got married, had babies, etc.

***pause for an interruption....ugggghhhh gotta get the rhythm back...***

Anyway....I haven't seen this "friend" nor his wife in literally years, as in 8 years... When we ran into these folks tonight I honestly thought that all that high school crap would be gone. I knew she didn't like me then but seriously who holds on to that kind of garbage?? Apparently my "friend's" wife does that's who. She saw me and you would have thought she had smelled rotten meat the way her face contorted. My "friend" (I'm using quotes because can you really call someone a friend you haven't seen in 8 years and who you never talk to ??) wanted to stop and show off his son but his wife had different plans as she wheeled that baby away as fast as she could.

So here's my issue -- after all these years who really holds on to high school crap? I can honestly say there is not one person that I had an issue with in high school that I still have an issue with now -- mainly because I don't see those people anymore so what's to worry about, be angry about... Haven't we all moved on? Seriously...all of this happened when I was 14 years old and apparently still merits rude behavior. Haven't we all matured to the point that we realize we were DUMB at 14 so what bearing does anything that happened have on today???!!??

Obviously I got all kinds of fired up about this...less about her behavior because really -- I don't care -- like me, love me, hate me-- it has no lasting effect on me (especially since it will probably be another 8 years before I see them again...) but more about people's inabilities to move on, grow up, get on with life. I'm simply incredulous about the entire situation. I just don't understand lasting judgment of another person like that...it really boggles the mind <-- that was a grammatically terrible couple of sentences by the way; just consider it a stream of consciousness...

So I'm moving on and getting on and all that garbage -- and being thankful for a muse.

One more note: According to Jack, God holds your hand always so that when you cross the street you don't get hit by a car, or eaten by a crocodile or hit with a rhinoceros's sorn (yeah...apparently a cross between a horn and a sword...). Now you can all sleep well knowing this tidbit of wisdom...

Proof that my 3 year old is too smart for my own good...

Jack has been enrolled in swimming lessons for a while -- honestly I don't remember how long it has been... Since he completed his two week daily immersion course and said good-bye to Mr. Alex getting Jack to go to class much less enjoy these lessons has been a trial. We changed teachers again this week with the hope that a man might instill some confidence in him -- and at least relate to him a little better. I was preparing Jack for the change this morning...

Me: Jack, I want you to know that today is a swim lesson day (he immediately begins to whine and fake-cry) but you are going to have a new teacher -- Mr. Corey.
Jack: But I don't wanna go to swim lessons...
Me: I know you don't but we are going to give Mr. Corey a chance. We are going to go three times to see him and we won't have tears when we go. If after three times you still hate swim lessons we won't go back again.
Jack: But I wanna stay here...
Me: I know but Mr. Corey deserves to be given a chance.
Jack: (with an exasperated sigh) but that's not my point. My point is that I want to stay here to take care of my favorite dog Ginger. What do you think about that point momma?
Me: (silence...a few moments pass before I speak) well I think that's a good point and I think it's great that you want to take care of Ginger but remember we made a commitment to swim lessons and we need to honor that commitment.
Jack: hey momma have you seen my dalmatian movie (he lost interest at this point...)

Coming up for air...

Ike is long gone but he has left quite a lasting imprint on our lives! We are currently the only Houston-based family members (for both sides) with power so we are running our very own evacuee shelter. We have 7 adults, a preschooler, an infant and 5 very LARGE dogs crammed into 2100 square feet of house -- a house which is typically more than enough room for us but now finds itself busting at the seams. We have all decided to take Jack's attitude on the situation -- to love the fact that family is here and to ignore all the awkwardness and lack of creature comforts that could cause things to seem unpleasant. Fortunately our house was spared damage -- just some minor tree mess that we had to rake up and one larger branch that Luke had to chop up.

I don't expect anything profound to blog about for a while -- playing hausfrau to this many is occupying what little brain function I have these days.

Best Ike photo so far...

HI-LAR-I-OUS!!!

Tell 'em he's coming...

Hurricane Ike is on his way. We are preparing to "hunker down" in the Pearson house. We emptied the yard this morning of all potential debris and last night made one last grocery store run to buy a little more water and a few more comfort items. Of course after emptying the yard this morning we discovered that the water main on our street had a crack and that work crews had shut off the water to every house on the street. It's almost noon and we have been without water since about 10 am. Doesn't sound that long but believe me when I say it is -- you just don't realize how much you depend on water until you can't turn on the faucet. We've spoken to the crew supervisor and he has assured us that the leak will be fixed and the water turned on long before Ike hits. We're praying that is so. My family is riding out the storm in Pearland, hoping to be on-hand to do damage control from what will surely be rising water. Luke's mom is on the emergency response team for Memorial Hermann and had to report by noon today with enough clothes and water to sustain herself for 7 days. Those of you in Ike's path -- we are praying for your (and our own) safety. Those of you beyond Ike's reach -- please keep us all in your prayers. This is a HUGE storm with the potential to cause damage that hasn't been seen here in our lifetime. One report I read eerily compared Ike's path to the path of the Hurricane of 1900 that destroyed Galveston. Hopefully it won't be as bad as that storm... Anyway, keep us all in your prayers and we'll see you on the other side!

Back to school, back to school...

Today was Jack's first day of preschool. In typical Jack fashion he awoke bright and early around 7am (a good hour before I was planning on waking him) and presented me in a most lion-king way his teddy bear for teddy bear day. He then proceeded to tell me he was "ready for school time please." He gobbled his breakfast and dressed at a breakneck pace leaving us with LOTS of time to sit around and wait.

At 840 I could hold him off no longer so we loaded the car, stopping of course for the requisite picture time outside and headed off for school. On the way in to the school Jack insisted carrying EVERYTHING himself. His nap mat is supposed to be "compact" per school request -- his is...well...not. So he has a loaded backpack, his teddy bear, his nap mat and a box of kleenex all the while attempting to cross the parking lot. Needless to say I made him stop so I could help. The only word to describe his entrance to the classroom is to say that he strutted in like he was big man on campus. While all the other kids clung to mothers, mine sat down at the table and opened a puzzle to begin his "lots of school work" (his words to me). No tears, no fear, barely even a bye mom. That was it...

I tried to attend parent orientation but Sam was having none of it. He screamed the entire time so we left about 15 minutes into the 45 minute presentation. I think he sensed he was alone with mom -- that and he was practicing his new skill of fit-pitching.

My baby is a big boy. I told Luke last night that I was more nervous than Jack was -- and that kindergarten is going to require medication for me.

A prayer for my son as he begins a new phase in his life...
Lord, I pray that Jack will grow as Jesus did, "in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and men" (Luke 2:52). Thank you for crafting him with numerous gifts, talents and abilities; help him to develop these gifts and guide him in the use of them for Your Kingdom. Lord, may Jack "grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ" (2 Peter 3:18).

More notes...

Add these to the earlier post...
1. a bouncy ball -- when leisurely tossed in the general area of the ceiling fan (even if that's not the intended target) will no doubt hit said ceiling fan
2. bouncy balls when hit by the blades of a ceiling fan transform from leisurely tossed toys to dangerous projectiles almost instantly
3. the above occurences are HILARIOUS to little boys
4. I used to have a dog as a baby-substitute. Then I had a baby and she became a loyal pet. Then I had another baby -- now I think she is just a fancy vaccum cleaner...
5. laundry has the ability to procreate -- don't ask how just know that I speak the truth. Need proof? I will show you my laundry room -- regardless of how much laundry I do the bins in there never seem to empty.

Notes from life

1. I just about broke my ankle on a tangle of foam swords and small trucks in the maze that has become my living room.
2. Yes I clean said living room -- but my kids are especially adept at messing up faster than I can clean.
3. I am going to stop buying food for Sam and just let him eat from the dog bowl. It's what he prefers and it's less messy and more cost-efficient.
4. Every single song that has been stuck in my head for as long as I can remember back is a kid's song (Hip-hip-hip-hippopotamus, hip-hip-hooray He made all of us).
5. It's amazing how fast food disappears in this house. Didn't I just go to the store last week? Seriously -- where is the grocery fairy when you need her?
6. When I send my kids away for some grown-up time and some much needed rest, I find myself still waking early thinking I hear Sam crying or Jack running around in his room. So much for sleeping in?!??!!
7. I do not in any way shape or form miss the classroom at all. Weird huh?!?
8. Three year olds still teethe (is that how you spell it??). Wonderful news for a mommy that has a teething 9 month old already.
9. "Heart" shaped rocks are more beautiful than I could have ever imagined -- especially when they are wrapped in grimy, dirty, sweaty little hands and presented as love offerings. I have several lining the windowsill above the kitchen sink.

More babies...

From the mouth of a pre-schooler, words that almost stopped a grown man's heart.

A typical work day conversation at my house -- repeated almost daily -- in the quiet before the day begins
Jack: good morning mommy
Me: good morning Jack
Jack: good morning sweet pea/angel/baby/some other pet name he has picked up from Luke
Me: good morning big boy
Jack: mommy someone's missing. do you know who's missing?
Me: no baby...who's missing?
Jack: my daddy. he's working.

Tuesday night -- Luke was outside doing daddy things, dinner was being decided, the boys were inside with me playing...

Jack: Mommy, someone's missing. Who's missing?
Me: No one is missing baby. Daddy is outside -- he'll be right back.
Jack: No...someone else is missing. Do you know who is missing?
Me: (thinking to myself) which grandparent is he going to say is missing today? or which aunt? or which dog? or which friend? No Jack I don't know who is missing.
Jack: the other babies are missing
Me: (with a little trepidation in my voice) what other babies?
Jack: the other babies in our family
Me: Jack there aren't any other babies in our family.
Jack: well there should be. we need more babies; we need more brothers
Me: (almost choking) well tell your dad
Luke enters the room
Jack: daddy we need more babies in our family. we need more brothers at our house.
Luke: (after the shock subsided) yeah, uh-huh, okay...(and into the kitchen he walked)

Seriously -- we have no idea where Jack came up with this idea or why. He has actually had this conversation with me twice -- which is why I told him to tell Luke. I wasn't exactly sure how to respond to his comment. So far there hasn't been anymore talk of more babies since Tuesday but knowing Jack he'll drop the subject for a week or two and it will pop out again in the most random time.

School Days...

For the first time since I was 5 years old the school year has started without me. The kiddos along the street woke early, dressed in the newest and best, loaded their new backpacks with fresh school supplies (how I love the smell of new pencils!) and scurried out to meet the big yellow buses in the early morning light. And I...I worked on my Bible study, I had a cup of coffee, I checked my email and checked up on friends, I sat down to write this...but I didn't go to school!

Book Review

I've hinted recently at the content of a new book I have been reading, Wild at Heart by John Eldredge. It is about the masculine heart; written for men it focuses on reclaiming masculinity. I thought it might be helpful to read since really, let's be honest, I'm a newbie at this whole boy thing. Mr. Eldredge provides some intriquing insights into the male gender -- why they act they way they do, what they crave, etc. I don't agree with everything in the book -- like when he tells his son to punch the bully on the playground in the face. From this book I gleaned my new taggage for the boys -- my warriors. Man is made in God's image and God is a warrior -- the Israelites call him such in Exodus. As an overall review -- a good read; thought-provoking and Biblically based (for the most part) argument; enlightening for the female half of the population who just don't understand why little boys make guns and swords out of everything and why grown men always seem to want to use the water hose; a bit repetitive -- often I felt like I was reading the same thing over and over again -- I blame this on his editor; a pick-me-up for the man who is caught between the lie the world tells of being the "nice guy" and the call of the Lord to be a champion of the Faith. I am interested in reading the sequel to the book, The Way of the Wild Heart -- it is supposed to be a "map for raising boys through the six stages of the masculine journey." I'll let you know.

Next up...

I've started this one today -- I like the mini-Bible studies at the end of each chapter (about four questions, usually one or two include Scripture study) and I like the Family Focus ideas at the back -- they seem a little difficult for a non-reading kid but I'm going to work on trying to trim them down for Jack. I also like that the book focuses not just on child behavior but parental behavior as well.

Now that I'm not forced to read for work I am re-discovering my love for the written word. Know of anything good? Fiction, non-fiction, Bible study? Let me know!!!

A few changes

Some of the more observant readers of the blog may have noticed I removed the blog lists from the side bar. This was intentional and for the time being this seems a permanent deletion. Most of my friends are like me -- we love these blog lists. It lets us learn about our friends' friends; for many it offers entertainment that doesn't seem to pull us beyond the boundary of acceptable; for voracious readers like myself it offers a quick read when that's all life seems to want to allow. All acceptable reasons in my opinion. However, I worry that by placing certain blogs on the list it may be construed as a silent approval on my part regarding the content found therein. This is entirely not true -- but I can't and don't want to post every time a blog that I frequent posts something that I disagree with.


Additionally, and this is more the issue than anything else. We had a very candid discussion Sunday in Bible Study about temptation and the discussion began with a communal listing of the temptations faced by each gender. Obvious answers were given -- the ones you expect to find -- sex for men, gossip for women and so on and so forth. But something that was not said but that I have a sneaking suspicion is truer for most women than we care to admit is that a huge temptation for us to be Super-Mom. We have a deep desire to know that we are doing THE perfect things for our children. This in and of itself isn't a bad thing. It is when this desire also makes us seek out other moms who may not be doing it correctly so as to artificially build ourselves up or when this desire pushes us to seek affirmation in our choices from others rather than from God, our spouses, our children that it becomes so completely destructive. I know that I do it all the time -- organic or not, vaccinate or not, baby sign or not, which preschool, which swim instructor and on and on it goes.

My logic on the very minute change is more extensive -- things like popularity, permissions, etc all crossed my mind -- it just seemed like these two reasons were primary. This diatribe if you will is not a indictment of anyone with a blog list -- more of an explanation why mine was removed (and perhaps a little candor in a world so lacking). With that said, of course I will still check blogs; I hope you continue to read mine; if you have blog lists please keep them -- that after all is the point of this post -- to do what you have been called to do regardless of others.

He-Man Woman Haters Club

It's official. I am drowning in a sea of testosterone. I find myself singing,"One of these things is not like the others, one of these things just doesn't belong..." realizing that I am that one thing. I suppose I should have prefaced this post with a disclaimer: I love my boys, I mean LOVE my boys. I know that the kiddos I have been given are exactly what I am supposed to have and if, truth be told, if (and that is a huge IF) we decide to venture down the baby-making road again I honestly hope to have more sons. However, after wrangling the gruesome twosome through the delicate boutiques and antique shops of Fredricksburg this past week I came to the startling revelation that the shopping trips with mom that I remember fondly and still long for now are not something that will be repeated with my dear and dirty off-spring. I will spend time at baseball parks and football stadiums, will become adept at stain-removal and if current occurrences are at all glimpses into the future will become very familiar with the staff of the local ER. Mostly I am okay with that. But there is a little part of me that gets a little sad sometimes when the boys would rather rough-house with dad than do anything with me. I know that's how it is supposed to go -- Luke is the proper trainer for our little warriors (and I call them that with all the positive connotation in the world). My job, while also a trainer, won't be as technical because -- well because I don't have that kind of knowledge.



This ended up being a little more sullen and not quite as light-hearted as I had hoped. I suppose this last week with cows and ATV's and rocks and Kung Fu Grammy (Jack's new name for my mom since she played kung fu with him on the porch one morning) opened my eyes a little to the wonderful and completely foreign world to which I now belong. Gone are the drawers full of hair accessories that filled my youth. Now I find hammers in the oven-mit drawer and giant rocks in the laundry. Thank you God for my modern day knights, my warriors made in your image. Thank you for all the mess and chaos and noise they bring because with all of this also comes laughter to the point of tears.

Won't you be my neighbor

The Scene: Our backyard around 6ish. Luke is grilling yummy jalapeno basil porkchops; Jack is playing pirate (HILARIOUS face that kiddo makes) and Sam is hanging with mommy on the patio. Luke and I are chatting nonchalantly about the height of the grass -- it's a little amazonian since we've been out of town.

Suddenly we hear "Knock Knock"

I look to Luke thinking it's a little girl here to sell us stuff. Before I can react our neighbor opens the gate and comes into the backyard. Ginger begins barking furiously

Me: WAIT WAIT WAIT, GINGER NO NO
Neighbor: It's okay he knows me (I think to myself "you don't know HER obviously)
Luke: yeah but she gets a little territorial about the backyard
Neighbor: I have a question for you. Did you turn on our sprinkler today?
Me: no...???
Neighbor: because we are sure it was off when we left earlier today
Me: I noticed it was on for a long time...when I got home from lunch at noon it was on and then still on when we returned from swim lessons at 3.
Neighbor: yeah we turned it on to fix the brown spot we have but we know we turned it off. weird. are you sure you didn't turn it on?
Me: yeah...we didn't do it. that is weird.

on and on this goes for about ten minutes. then neighbor leaves convinced that either we didn't turn on the sprinkler for her or that we are lying, luke and I aren't sure which.

I should clarify -- this isn't a sprinkler that you buy at wal-mart and attach to a hose. This was their in-ground sprinkler system. So we have to ask: does this happen often -- neighbors turning on one another's sprinkler systems?

...

Today I wept...wept for the mortality of my son. I stared deep into the face of his humanity and wept. I wept for my inability as a mother to protect him as I should; I wept for the errs in his path; I wept for the stumbling blocks I placed in his way when I truly believed I was clearing the road ahead. And then I wept for being so human-minded -- for clinging to Christ myself and diving deep to become the mother my son so desperately needs all the while thinking that the term "primary faith trainer" meant "primary faith giver"; for assuming that enough songs and stories and appropriate cartoons would be sufficient to stave off the enemy that is hungry for my son; for praying that I would be molded but failing to realize that my son's molding would be done by The Potter not by me.

Someone called my son a sinner yesterday and while some piece of me has always known this is true to have the word said aloud struck me to my core. For the first time I was afraid for him, for his life, for his death. And then everso calmly and rationally my gentle giant of a husband gathered up my fears, wiped away the tears and refocused my eyes of the Giver of Life. The beautiful man that has grown before my eyes into a giant of faith guided me back to my Savior, back to the foot of the Cross, back to the basic truths of my faith. Thank you God for answering prayers I didn't even know I should pray, for meeting needs I didn't know existed, for solving problems I couldn't even see. Thank you for my husband, for his gentle spirit, his unending grace, his unconditional love and for his commitment to You and to our family.

This evening my spirit is raw but I have hope. I look into the glittering eyes of my son and the cold hard facts of his imperfection are present in my mind yet I can't help but glory in the knowledge that he has been called of God for a righteous purpose. My enemy wants to claim this day as a victory for himself but God will not let that happen. In my arrogance I failed to be faithful but my God did not fail in His faithfulness; He acknowledged my questions on mortality and sin then He showed me His fingerprints on my baby-who's more of a bigboy's being. Lord thank you for providence; thank you for faithfulness; thank you for new mercies each morning; thank you Lord for your infinite nature and your complexity that stretches me, sometimes confuses me but always amazes and provides for me.

It's time for Veggieta -a-a-a-a-a-a-les!!!!

We are super veggietales fans around the Pearson house and we just found out GREAT news!!! Veggietales is coming to Houston in September for a LIVE show! Yippee!!

Rain Rain Go Away...

Yuck! It has been raining here all day -- started last night -- and has no postponed a dinner grill-out twice. Not to mention that trying to keep a very VERY active 3 year old occupied indoors this long is starting to wear me out! Here's hoping for sunny skies tomorrow!!!

Two steps forward and one step back

My mom used to have a magnet on the fridge that read, "when you reach the end of your rope, tie a knot in it and hang on." While the magnet has gone on to the giant fridge in the sky the words still pop in my head --usually after I have informed Jack that he is killing me or that I've had enough. No other time has this motto needed to resonate more soundly than in Jack's current state of affairs.

Jack decided of his own accord that he wanted to potty-train; of course he chose the exact day we brought Sam home from the hospital to give this new endeavor a go. I wanted to wait until this summer started, putting him closer to 3 when we began. But as with all things in Jack's life he chose to do it in his own time. He actually did very well, going from diapers to bigboy pants in about 4 months and we have now enjoyed about 4.5 months of diaper-free Jack. At least we did enjoy this...until last week. Suddenly Jack has decided to regress and for the life of me I cannot determine the cause. He has had at least one accident every other day for two weeks; the night accidents are understandable -- he's little and plays hard during the day -- and while these accidents didn't use to happen I'm not worried at the minor trend. The concerning issue is the sudden increase of day-time accidents and the coinciding of these accidents with an increase in thumb-sucking. While I have zero experience in child psychology I can't help but think that this regression is the manifestation of some emotion with which Jack is unable to process. My initial reaction was confirmed last night when Jack voluntarily went to the bathroom then emerged to get his step stool only to return to the bathroom to poop in his pants. Uggghh!!

For whatever reason Jack must feel that he isn't getting the attention he feels he needs. Believe me when I say this is frustrating for all of us. I am tired of cleaning out pants, I am worried about Jack and the sudden change in behavior and Jack is embarassed about his accidents.

So right now we are all just hanging on. I am attempting to lavish Jack with more attention than normal, hoping that attention paid to him outside the bathroom will translate into a realization in him that he doesn't need to have accidents to get attention. My goal is smother him -- not literally of course -- but with attention. I can only imagine how difficult a transition it must be for the little guy to have to share the spotlight with Sam (especially with as cranky as Sam has been lately). So far no accidents today. We'll just take it one day at a time...and hope our knot holds out.

A time for every purpose

As I sat watching Jack in swim lessons yesterday I was reminded of Ecclesiastes 3 “to every thing there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven…a time to embrace and a time to refrain.” Actually if truth be told I first thought of the song but I know the song was based on that passage … Anyway, the reason this particular truth found it’s way into my already overcrowded brain was that as I watched Jack very obediently listen to his instructor I was also watching his one little classmate scream at the top of her lungs for mommy every time she was asked to participate and I was watching the two slightly older students in the class next to Jack cling to the pool side and scream for mommy (and occasionally get out of the pool and make a break for the door). All the while I couldn’t help but wonder what made these parents force their children to endure what sounded like torture. Just as I was about to settle into my judgment phase of these well-meaning but in my opinion seriously mis-guided parents I was reminded of my interaction with my own child only moments before. Jack had not wanted to go to swim lessons that day. He cried from the moment he awoke from nap until we pulled into the parking lot. I tried everything to get him to stop: I cajoled, I called Dad for a pep-talk, I scolded and shamed (“you said you wanted to do this and I paid a lot of money for these – you have to fulfill your commitment!”). I did everything I could to get Jack excited about swimming. Why did I push so hard? To be frank, I pushed because I knew 1) the cause of Jack’s reticence was exhaustion from the trip this past weekend and 2) Jack would be excited once we were in view of the facility. I was right on both if any is keeping score in the game “Do I know my son or what?”
But this led me to wonder at what point to do you push and at what point to do you surrender? Perhaps the parents I was ready to sit in judgment of (I know – an issue in its own right) were doing what I had done – rationalizing that their children would be excited about it when it was over; perhaps these children had been excited to go and gave no indication of their trepidation before class began. It’s such a fine line we walk as parents: to know when to push our little birds from the nest because it’s good for them and when to just let them be. My final thought as I sat there watching (it’s only a 30 minute class and my synapses don’t fire quite as rapidly as they used to) was a question: how will I know when to push and when not to? I suppose the answer to this question is the same as all the other parenting questions I have: God will have to let me know because as time and experience inform me at every turn, I have no idea what I am doing on my own.

Just say cheese!

I'll admit it -- I love having the boys pictures taken. I have fallen victim to the adage "they are only X age once" so I have a ridiculous number of pictures of my little men. In tandem to this I must admit that while I have aspirations of being a shutterbug I am not. Yes, I take more pictures of the boys than I would have previously impossible to take of two individuals but these pictures are typical snapshots; some are out of focus, many are plagued by weird lighting and more often than not the boys' expressions aren't quite what I had in mind. Of course, even in this digital age of picture-choosing, I print and keep every single image -- my documentation of ineptitude for later I suppose. But it is for this very reason that I have so many professional pictures taken of the boys. The first year of life I have portraits made at 2,4,6 and 9 months. Then I have portraits made on birthdays after that. Lately I have also had Christmas portraits taken (which falls almost directly on Jack's half-birthday) but I am thinking of letting that tradition die in lieu of more candid snapshots. The first year portraits are a mix of studios depending on the flow of finances at the time; if we have extra money that month I will take the boys to PicturePeople -- I love their casual approach and the fact they use free roaming cameras; if money is tighter in a given month I will take the boys to JCPenney -- can't beat $3.99 a sheet and a free 8x10!

Lately I haven't been extremely pleased with either place. JCPenney doesn't hire real genuine photographers at most of their locations so while the samples are usually very good chances are your photographer will be nothing more than a trained camera operator capable of little more than pushing a button. PicturePeople takes great photos but they tend to all start looking the same with a rather bland background and standard poses -- great for a once in a while but it's getting difficult for me to tell the difference between photo sessions -- that and PP is REALLY expensive (or at least it can get that way!).

That's when I stumbled upon Kiddie Kandids or perhaps I should say they stumbled upon me. I was in Babies R Us doing some recon work in the stroller department when I was approached by a woman who complimented me on my pretty baby. I thanked her and then she asked if she could take a picture of him. I have to admit I was kinda -- okay really -- creeped out. But she went on to tell me of KK and that she was practicing on little ones. I agreed and ended up with some super cute shots of Sam for free and a coupon to return. I know this was totally a gimmick to get me to come back but it worked. I made an appointment for Jack's 3rd birthday pictures and decided that if the session was a flop I wouldn't order any pics and would make an appointment with my friendly neighborhood photog (she's actually in Pearland but who's fact-checking here!). The pictures came out great! We ended up buying a larger package than we intended but we walked out with 10 sheets of pictures for $90. WHAT A DEAL!! The photog was great with Jack during the session and during picture choosing time. One of my favorite parts was getting the pics that day -- I hate waiting for them to come in!

KK is a good blend of JCP and PP -- good photogs with an eye for shots, decent prices, immediate prints, free online viewing, cd of the pics for me, a free bonus club that gives coupons on birthdays, no sitting fee and the ability to make appointments online. The only negative was that the camera is still mounted like at JCP so the photog can't chase your toddler around the studio like at PP -- but it is a better system than JCP. Probably the best part of KK for me was its location -- inside Babies R Us. The branch of PP that is closest to me is East through the perpetual mess that is I10 and really I have about had it with JCP and don't want to go to the one in Katy anymore.

So...while I know this matters NONE to those without kiddos I thought I would let the other parents know about this place. Honestly I wouldn't have ever tried it had they not bribed me with free pics of Sam. OH -- and if you are interested in trying the place out, I have referral coupons that give you a free 8x12 just for going once -- just have to be used by 8/25.

Here are some samples.

Sam's free photo.




Jack's Birthday photo -- one of many!

These are a few of our favorite things

As the boys get older it is so much fun to watch their little personalities bloom. To commemorate this blossoming I thought I would take a moment to list their favorite things!

Jack

* all things sports -- baseball, football, basketball, soccer, tennis -- you name it and we probably have the equipment for it around the house and Jack would love to show you how to use it

* music -- everything becomes a drum or a trombone or a piano or a guitar for Jack to play a tune for all to hear

* strawberry flavor -- he hates the real thing because of the seeds but loves strawberry kiwi juice, strawberry jello and fruit snacks.

* firemen -- he tells us all the time that he is going to be a fireman when he grows up

* swimming -- even though he isn't very good at it, that kid would stay in the pool all day!

* animals -- dogs, horses and cows specifically -- he even told Papa Mark that he wanted cows in a barn for his birthday

* school time -- I have no idea why but the child loves to be quizzed on his letters with flashcards!

* muscle shirts -- no words for this...I actually find it odd...

* two particular Bible stories -- David and Goliath (or as Jack calls it "Dave and the Giant Pickle" -- he loves walking around saying "You come at me with a spear and a sword but I come to you in the name of the Lord.") and Jonah (on this one we get lots of lessons from Jack about how Jonah didn't listen to God's instructions but God gave him a second chance to make a better choice.)

Sam

* bottles -- try as I may to switch to sippies, he will not let go of the "ba-ba" (yes he knows the name!)

* sweet potatoes -- don't try to feed the kid anything else! He is actually starting to turn a little orange because of these...

* Jack -- talk about hero worship

* Ginger -- nothing (besides Jack) can make him giggle louder and longer than when she gets on the floor to play with him

* stackable rings -- hours of fun are to be had with these

* showers -- no bath-time fun for this little guy -- he prefers the shower

* rolling -- still not crawling and apparently he doesn't see the need...rolling gets him where he wants to go and he can still hold treasures

* raspberries -- blowing them not eating them -- just his little way of communicating

Well there you go -- the Gruesome Twosome in a nutshell! Here are some pictures of the boys being boys!

Sam has rolled himself under the coffetable in search of more toys!

Jack doing what he loves -- swimming and playing with his water guns!

On the schedule for today...

Ugggghhh...I hate schedules. I loathe schedules. I abhor schedules. That's why I chose a career that made a schedule for me. I didn't have to think about it...I just did my thing and let the bells run my life. Of course I was also the teacher that complained about the lack of time to get a leisurely cup of coffee or take a trip to the ladies' room or have a conversation beyond, "Good morning, how are you?"

Now that I am home I realize the value of the schedule; with this of course I realize my complete incompetency in the schedule making arena. Should I limit tv time to 30 minutes or one hour? Should we play outside in the morning or after nap? When should we have school time (Jack's favorite time of day is sitting at his table and doing his "school work" -- practicing his letters, drawing shapes, reading, etc)? When should I schedule my errands? Does it matter that playgroup doesn't exactly fit? On and on these questions run through my head.

Yes I could say it all doesn't really matter that much but then I fear we would spend our days plopped on the couch watching entirely too much Mickey Mouse Clubhouse and Veggietales and not nearly enough time living. While it's true that this schedule thing is outside the comfort zone of my laissez-faire approach to life it seems to be one of the truly important things for stay-at-home mommies and their kiddos. I have been tweaking this darn schedule now since the beginning of June and still haven't gotten it quite right -- and I know that in about 2 weeks the whole thing will be thrown out the window for swim lessons. Maybe I'll get things figured out by fall...

Doctor, Doctor...

For those that know me well, it is no surprise that I have struggled with my health for basically my entire life; it began with the Crohn's diagnosis in junior high, the reappearance of a heart murmur that had been supposedly outgrown, then went to pre-eclampsia with Jack and the long-lasting ramifications of that ugly disease. I am once again struggling to control my body processes -- namely again my blood pressure. Having a striking genetic predisposition to the condition, I am ultra-conservative in my monitoring and treatment of it. Long story short after visits to two different doctors I have come to a rather sad conclusion. Modern society dictates that that we should all be doctors. In reality that it is what it seems my physicians expected of me -- for me to walk in and not only talk symptoms but offer treatment solutions as well, you know like in the commercials, "Ask your doctor if drug X is right for you." My response is how should I know? I went to school to become an English teacher -- and I was pretty good at that job. Luke went to school to become a chemical engineer and he is pretty good at his job. Doesn't it seem logical that the same should hold true for a doctor?

Another shocking revelation I had in this entire process was how obsessed we all are with appearance -- even those in the medical community. It's a rather obvious statement that plastic surgeons are obsessed with appearance -- it's what they do. But my general practitioner is an entirely different scenario. For some inexplicable reason I have been unable to lose the baby weight from Sam; moreover I have actually gained about 15 pounds since his birth despite a rather strict diet and exercise regimen (I am determined to get back in my pre-baby pants sooner rather than later). This was actually the impetus for my visit to Dr. N -- why can't I lose weight and why all of a sudden are my feet and hands swollen?? Her response: have you considered lap-band and an anti-depressant? Really??? That's where she went?!! I am not concerned with my lack of weight loss because of appearances. I know that weight is very closely linked with high blood pressure and I know that I am already at risk to develop the condition as I was medicating for it this time last year. My concern for the weight loss was so that I can be healthy and active for my children. But Dr. N seemed only to focus on the aesthetic aspect of my question.

The entire process has been extremely frustrating. As you can see, it's time to find another doctor for me. One who is a little more concerned with health and a little less concerned about her bank account.

update on the little girls...

Several folks have asked about an update on my friend that is pregnant with twins so here it is...

Alexis was sent home about a week ago on strict bedrest. So far the little girls are staying put. Everyday is a new adventure but things for now seem to be holding steady. I know that Luis and Alexis thank each and everyone of you for your steadfast prayers. Hopefully these little ones won't make a debut until the end of August like they are scheduled to!

Prayers needed

I know there are lots of prayer warriors out there that occasionally peruse this blog. Here is something I'd like you to dedicate during your next intercessory prayer time.

A couple in our ABF is spending some time at Hermann Hospital in the Med Center. The wife is 29.5 weeks pregnant with twin little girls and is already having contractions. She was transferred from Katy to the Med Center early this morning. Last news was that the contractions seemed to have stopped but no one knows how long that will last. The girls are good sized but they are still really early. I know most of you walked with Luke and me on our prematurity journeys with Jack and Sam and you know how terrifying this situation is. Pray that the girls stay put for a little while longer...at this point every day in utero betters their odds of not only surviving but thriving as well. Pray for their parents, Luis and Alexis -- specifically pray for a peace that passes all human understanding. Pray for the doctors to make the best decisions for all involved.

Do not be anxious in anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. Philippians 4:6

As small as a jalapeno seed...

Due to extremely poor scheduling on my part I volunteered to take dinner this week to two different couples in our ABF who recently had babies (our ABF is currently trying to re-populate the earth single-handedly...we have had someone give birth just about every month since we joined over a year ago and we have babies scheduled to arrive through January of 2009 as of now). ANYWAY...due to my poor planning I failed to buy the required amount of chicken at the grocery store this week and found myself chicken-less when starting my own family's dinner this evening. So we did what we always do when a crisis occurs -- we went to Omar's, our family's favorite little Mexican food restaurant. The place is great...good food, nice folks (they taught Jack to say Hola), close to home with good prices. I digress -- Omar's is not the point of this post.

While bathroom-inspector Jack was gone with Luke I lazily stared out the window at I-10. That's when I bit into a jalapeno seed. Anyone who has eaten a jalapeno knows that the seeds are where the real heat is found. That's when I started thinking -- dangerous I know and not something I seem to be doing much of lately outside the realm of menu planning and laundry methodology. Who first decided to pick a jalapeno and eat it? Who, after the initial consumption, decided it was something worth repeating? I am a HUGE fan of jalapenos -- one the few lasting pregnancy side effects that I actually appreciate -- but I don't know that if I had been the first to encounter the pepper it would have it's current renown. Then I began to think how amazing my God is. In his infinite wisdom he not only thought to give my life a plan and a purpose but he cared enough to make the jalapeno. And folks say the devil is in the details -- HA to that one. My God is in the details. He worked hard to make sure there would be a way to make me pure enough to spend time in his presence. Then he worked some more to make sure that every hair on my head was counted and numbered. Then he repeated all of this for all of the people that would ever walk this planet. And sometime in there he had the forethought to create the jalapeno. Are you kidding me??? How awesome is that!! I know this seems silly but it is just one more way God has revealed his eternal nature to me while also gently reminding that through all of my days (be they good or bad) He is forever there -- watching, guiding, teaching, molding, shaping and loving. It is a rather humbling experience; all brought on by a small jalapeno seed.

One of those days

After my latest post on Jack's firsts (read it here if you don't know what I'm talking about), I expected this post to revolve around my complete feelings of inadequacy as a mother to boys. Unfortunately my second day home with the daring duo has done nothing but confirm my feelings of inadequacy as a parent in general. Sam's teething means no sleep for him unless mommy holds. If he were an only child this would prove difficult; as the youngest of two this is simply impossible. Consequently he spends a good portion of his day crying...strike that...SCREAMING is a better word choice there.

Jack is...Jack. After speaking with some friends of mine, it seems that three is worse than the terrible three's. I used to wonder why I didn't know that, why there isn't some catchy name for three. Now I know...these mommies are locked in their houses trying not to let the world find out their children have been replaced with devil people. Today was our playgroup and it was the Pearson family's first venture out since last summer. We became today, THAT family. You know the one...the one with THAT little boy and THAT discipline. It didn't matter what I did, time-out, loss of privilege, spankings...NOTHING changed the behavior. I realize in hindsight I should have left but playgroup is as much for mommies as for kids...and I lost sight of things I suppose. Jack ran from me, laughed at me, spoke in gibberish (think Billy Madison), hit me, screamed, cried...everything but listen and do as he was told.

Now that he is in his room -- I need a break -- I am terrified. I just committed to doing THIS forever. I didn't make it 48 hours...now what? Of course everything I should have done is running through my head but none of that came to me in the moment. I want to be one of those moms who regardless of her child's behavior is calm and collected. I was angry and frazzled and just about everyone at the pool knew it. The worst part...I am so embarrassed. I pride myself on Jack's behavior. Yes I am hard on him but I see what happens every day when parents weren't hard on their kids...or when parents decided to be hard on kids a little too late. I'd rather be hard on him now than have an out of control teenager. But now I know that the other mommies I see on a regular basis think my kid is out of control and that I have no discipline. Uggghhh... I hate this.

All I can do is listen to my friend Hannah in my head...this too shall pass. I just hope it passes quickly....