Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Wednesday Blues

So, I think today is going to be a bad day. Maybe it is just that my husband is out of town for the week. Perhaps it is because I woke up at 5:20 and couldn't go back to sleep and then everyone else woke up early. Perhaps it is because I woke up already tired of hearing the word "mommy"
and I had not even heard it once yet - now a few hours later I have heard it hundreds of times. Maybe it is just hump day. Maybe it is because Wednesday is Laundry Day in the Blackston house. Perhaps it is because my son shattered a bowl of oatmeal all over the pretty clean floor at breakfast time, or that my baby was crawling through the mess while I tried to clean it up. Maybe it is because my hair hasn't been washed in three days and who knows when I will get a shower. What ever it is, I woke this morning feeling the attack of a bad day coming on. Please Lord Jesus, change my heart. Change my patience level and let me enjoy and smile at the day, and my children. And Lord, in the times that I fail today, in the moments when mean things come out of my mouth and I want to yell or shout, please close my children's ears to me; or worse, when I want to grab someone in a less than loving grasp, make my children be in another room and Lord, give me a time out.

Moms, pray for me today.

Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Overheard during "Naptime"

"Whale, you're having a time out. That's what happens when you don't listen and obey."

How many times has that sentence left my lips?

Beauty

So, I really struggled with what to name this post. I thought for days about such names as Terrified For My Children, Put Sex Back in the Church, Get the Skanks off the Street, but just settled for this one. The fact that the title was so hard should tell me that the entire thing will be hard to write, but here goes...

Sunday after church we were driving to a park to have a little picnic lunch, and drove by a building with an advertisement on the entire side. You can guess what it was. A young, raven headed beauty, very scantily clad. With an almost transparent, shimmery tube top on, and a mini mini to match. She was tan and shiny and had flowing, jet back wavy hair that was blowing in the wind; and the smile...the smile was captivating, full of appeal and a "having the time of my life" quality. You know the ads I am talking about. The kind that women stare at in envy and the kind our husbands quickly avert their eyes from in fear that they will stare one second too long. It screamed sex appeal.

I generally do not notice these ads much any more. Growing up in a world where I have seen that most of my life. In fact, I have been that scantily clad girl that the guys cat call to. This time it was different. This time, it drew the attention of my children, a boy age 5, and his little sister age 4. This time, my children were drew into the culture and touched by it. I felt sadness grow in my heart as I listened in on their conversation and thanked God that my husband and I had been there to talk to them about it. This is a sum of their conversation:

Daniel: Look at that girl, she doesn't have any clothes on.
Kate: Yes she does, she has a shirt that is too small. She is showing her tummy and that is a private part for girls.
Daniel: Yeah, she doesn't look very good.
Kate: Look at her hair, it is all wild sticking out to the side like that.
Daniel: She looks a little crazy, doesn't she?

Although they were judging this poor girl pretty harshly saying that she was all crazy, I was glad that they at least have not been touched by the fact that the scantily clad female is what the world wants. I was also sad and scared as I thought about all our children will come up against in our culture. Not just in "the" culture, but in "our" culture, our Christian bubble culture. The pressure to look a certain way, act a certain way.

I have been reading a great book by a local christian author and speaker. I am actually involved in a Bible Study that she leads. The book is called " Unhindered" and it is written by Jana Spicka. Her first few chapters she really, rawly, talks about the sexuality in our culture. This is a quote from that book:

Ezekial 16:15, "But you trusted in your beauty and used your fame to become a prostitute.
You lavished your favors on anyone who passed by and your beauty became his."

Sound Crazy? Your beauty became his. Watch how we lose part of who we are. Let's talk
about dress codes. Remember the season of thongs combined with low rider jeans? It was the
unwritten fashion code of the day. Girls were sitting down showing everything that God gave
them and yet failed to understand why guys were on full hormonal alert! I was at a church
during this fashion season and a young women went to the front to pray. She knelt down and I
think every male in the church just about passed out. Praise the Lord that she was bowing
before God. But it was a sad illustration of how the battle rages, both in and out of church.
For the sake of history, I want to give you a brief walk through time. In the 1900's somebody
came up with the idea of a Uni-bra, a corset that would squeeze your breast together so it
would look like one big breast. Huh? In the 1920's, the flappers first showed calves and ankles
to the scandel of all. The 1960's hippies introduced mini-skirts. Don't forget about the 1970's
hot pants and the 1980's yuppies with long skirts split up to their wazoo.
And today the X and Y generations sport sheer gauze tops, bare bellies, and min-minis. In
fashion we keep showing more and more. But in relationships, we keep getting less and less.
Does anybody else here that hissing?


Friends, we are under attack. OUR KIDS are under attack. Where will we find our worth? Where will we teach our daughters to find their worth and our sons to repect their women? How do I teach my little girl what modesty is when no one even uses that word anymore and she sees all her friends, even in preshool, where low rider jeans and shirts that show their bellies? We must fight this culture, first in our own hearts. We must repect ourselves because we are God's temple. We must throw off the culture, the world and fight for our true beauty, which only comes from knowing who we are and who our creator is.

Serously, I could go on and on. But...let me leave you with this...

Romans 12:2, "Don't let the world around you squeeze you into its own mold, but let God re-make you so that your whole attitude of mind is changed."

So, what should our attitude be?

Genesis 1:27, "In the image of God He created him; male and female He created them."

So, what does that mean about is?

"The King is enthralled by your beauty" Psalm 45:11

Monday, April 27, 2009

The Parent Formerly Known as Daddy

My two year old and I were sitting at the kitchen table today eating lunch and chatting. Actually, we were engaged in one of her most common forms of conversation, which involves her asking me a question and me rightly interpreting that this is the question she wants me to ask HER.
"What's Mommy's name?"
"What is Mommy's name, Elli?"
"Mommy is Kristin"
"Right! And what is Daddy's name?"
"Daddy's name is 'Babe'."

Thursday, April 23, 2009

Rookie?

*Disclaimer: I have a three-year-old and should have known better. Enough said.

I am very proud of the fact that I am a Prepared Mom. I carry a too-big diaper bag, which holds toys, snacks, sunscreen, extra clothes for potty-training toddler, nursing cover, Maya wrap sling, sippy cup, diaper cream, wipes, diapers, burp cloth, the kitchen sink.

However, I have a seven-month-old who has been getting over a cold (read: coughing and dealing with nasal drainage). The result of such drainage/coughing is occasionally some vomiting. Usually on me. Sometimes in the middle of nursing. One would think that I had put at least an extra onesie in my oversized diaper bag. That would have been too easy.

The four of us trekked to Target this evening. Good thing: I wasn't the sole parent in charge of pushing the enormous cart around my favorite store. Bad thing: Noah was in his infant carrier and started coughing. I was attempting to undo the buckles to stand him up to help him, but was too slow. Out came a mixture of garden veggies and breastmilk and mucous. (At least it mostly missed the carseat!) I sighed, realizing that I had no extra clothes for my now grinning baby to wear. I took him out of the gross outfit and sent my husband over to the baby section, where he found a cute romper (my favorite baby outfit!) in the clearance section. He paid for it and we re-dressed Noah, who was still smiling up a storm and chewing on my shirt.

And I put a "just in case" onesie in my bag as soon as we returned home. Now that I'm prepared, I'll probably never need it.

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

The Pursuit of Happiness

As we pass the empty lot, my five year old asks me what the big, complicated sign says. "That lot is for sale," I answer. "Someone can buy it and build a store or a house in that space."

"Maybe the homeless people could buy it!" he suggests.

"Well, perhaps..." I begin to answer, not sure where to go with this conversation.

"Yes," he adds, growing more excited about his unfolding plans. "And then they could build a house and get married and have children and be happy."

Saturday, April 11, 2009

Right on Cue

Samuel was being especially fussy, so we decided to give him some "airtime" from his diaper (you know what's coming). As my husband is holding Sam and his little bare bottom he asks, "Has he gone poo lately?" As soon as the question came out of his mouth, a brown storm came out of Sam. All over Apa's foot. Oh yes, I had a good, long laugh!

Thursday, April 9, 2009

What a Day

I just had a sweet conversation with Luke about why his day at school--a Big Day, it was, Easter egg hunt and resurrection biscuit baking and Easter chapel--was a disappointment. It went something like this:

"Well, it started when my resurrection biscuit got put on the wrong baking pan." Turns out he was worried it would get mixed up with someone else's, which it didn't.

"Then I fell in the mud during the Easter egg hunt." And refused to change into his back-up clothes, kept on hand for just such accidents, despite being wet through to his underwear and even needing new skin, as he reported once we got home and removed the muddy layers.

"And then I cut my hand and wouldn't tell my teachers and embarrassed them." Or himself, maybe? Not sure on this one.

"And then I was worried that you wouldn't come get me at recess, that a stranger might come instead." Though I've never once even arrived late, much less sent anyone else to get him.

"Really, sometimes I think life without you just isn't life at all."
Me, too, my love; me, too.

And my day just took a turn for the so-much-better.

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

The Perils of Independence

I was feeling kind of liberated tonight. After their showers, both older kids went to their rooms, chose their pajamas, dressed themselves, and headed downstairs to prepare their own bedtime snacks. I bathed the baby in leisure, enjoyed chasing her naked buns down the hall and kissing her tummy before getting her dressed peacefully. As I headed downstairs to join the older children, I heard them speaking nicely to each other. Ahhhh...it's getting easier every day, isn't it?

And then I noticed their choice of bedtime snack: chocolate mousse yogurt. And the napkins. My sweet son had tried to refill the napkin holder (an effort for which I am very grateful and impressed), but only managed to jam about 200 of the 300 napkins into the space, leaving the remaining 100 scattered over the floor.

So, if I'm ready to abandon nutrition and napkin-free floors, I think I can pretty much leave them to their own devices. Small price to pay, really.

E-I-E-I-O

I don’t know how they keep finding me. I have moved 4 times in the past five years and yet those hounds at Pottery Barn keep pursuing me. I do all I can to stave off their determined advances, taking the catalog (now catalogs—fie, you evil Pottery Barn Kids) and chucking them in the trashcan on my way from the mailbox into the house. Because for me, perusing the Pottery Barn catalog leads only down the path of destruction. All those perfect looking, well-organized rooms, bereft of any clutter or non-wooden toys.

The truth is, I want my life to look like a Pottery Barn catalog, but really, it’s more like just a Barn. Even if I clean till kingdom come, it still doesn’t look great, there are all kinds of strange noises and smells surrounding me at all hours of the day, and there’s crap all over the place (usually not literally, although I was the victim of an unfortunate diaper blow out a few days ago).

I am slowly coming to terms with this, because what makes my house and my life more like a barn than a glossy catalog page is also what those staged and Feng-Shui-approved rooms lack: two beautiful little girls. And if I really have to choose, Elli and Annie will win out every time. But if I could have both...