He's Here!

Announcing the birth of:

Stephen Lawrence
born Tuesday, November 17th @ 9:45 PM
at home in Reston, VA
9#, 21.5"
long & skinny fingers & feet/toes, and BLOND!!


Thank you to SO many of you who supported our homebirthing adventure throughout! Wow--we are so pleased with our decision.

Because I was "in labor" for about 3+ weeks*, the end result was VERY fast!

I started regular contractions (again) @ ~ 6PM on Tuesday night, hopped into a cozy tub from 6:30-9 PM, while Logan had the exclusive privilege of watching "The Return of the Jedi" during a special Daddy/Son date, since Teagan was out with her Namma. As soon as I stepped out of the tub, everything moved fast, meaning my informing our midwife, Tammi , was too late! My dear friend, Devon, a doula, who lives 2 miles from our house, arrived about 10 minutes before Stephen was in our arms--she "caught" him while my 6 1/2-year-old son took photos & Tom brought me ice water. My daughter was out for an overnight with my mom, and though they got up & came as quickly as they could (Teagan dressed in her jammies & pink floral robe, Mom having changed first), they just missed the birth, arriving about 6 minutes after Midwife, Tammi & her birth assistant, Liz, who arrived about 6 minutes after Stephen! Our house was a flurry of activity under dim lights until about 1 AM. Miss Teagan got to cut the cord!

Stephen's first three days at home have been relaxing, as a wonderful bonding time for our family--the children are vying for their chance to hold & touch him at every turn and Namma has been a tremendous help--we are so grateful for her lengthy stay & will hold on tightly for the remaining time we have with her--she will head to Michigan for Thanksgiving with the Gould/Smith/Varga families in Midland, Michigan on Monday. Stephen is sleeping & nursing well, and is alert like his big sibs were--looking around from one of our faces to the next, and trying to take in his new world.

We gave him the middle name, "Lawrence," in honor of both my late grandfather, and my dear Uncle Larry. His first name is after the first Christian martyr, Saint Stephen, spelled with the "ph."



* (dilated @ 4 cm by 10/26, 5 cm the next week, 7 cm on Saturday...regular waves of contractions came for 3 hours at a time every few days for weeks!)

Sweet Matrimony (or not)...

Logan stated, last night (again),

Mom, when I grow up, I want to marry Teagan.

I'm sorry, Lo. You cannot. We are supposed to marry into other people's families, Sweetie

But, let me just ask you one thing. Is it illegal?!?!?!

Yes, It is.

He demonstrated a small tirade of righteous injustice--grrrr'ing & gripping his teeth/fists, then responded,

But, Teagan is so sweet!



Isn't that lovely? Despite our occasional struggles as a family, there is an awful lot of love & appreciation going on around here. I am a happy momma this morning. I encouraged Logan to closely monitor the boys who court his sister...she shouldn't marry any man who hadn't passed by Big Brother's approval.

Ha ha! I have a funny feeling no one will ever measure up to his scrutiny. Heaven help the boys who try.

Pregnancy Affirmation

I don't remember how I got on this email list, but I receive a daily Pregnancy Affirmation in the inbox now. Sometimes the expressions are relatively mundane, and I skim them, but today's matched my need perfectly:

Every pregnancy is different.

Yes--every pregnancy is different from one woman to another, and from one baby to another. My labor & deliveries of Logan & Teagan were unique, and Stephen is proving to have his own ideas, too. My mom & I were discussing, today, how much Stephen is in control right now. Well, I know God is ultimately the one in control, but He is working with my son on the date & time of this birth...and I am just a vessel. I have no real say in the matter! I can eat well, take my supplements, drink water & be my healthiest, but I cannot push if pushing isn't appropriate. I cannot hold him in, if I'm not "ready." Stephen will enter this world when he & his angels deem it's time!

This is one of the greatest challenges of pregnancy--to release that need to control all activities in my world. An infant will unravel you with sleepless feedings...jaundice...reflux...colic... There is so very little in my control in the months ahead. While I set a routine in place, and while I retain CALM in my spirit to learn Stephen's needs in balance with our family agenda, I will need to release so much control. Thematic in my Type-A lifestyle!

These are the lessons of the past few days. While we were still in the month of October (12 days ago) I was dilated to 4 cm already, my cervix was at 50% effaced, & Stephen was in a 0-station position in the birth canal. This past Wednesday (4 days ago, 11/4), all of that had progressed to 5 cm, 70%, +1. Since then, I have lost the mucus plug & had "bloody show," plenty of contractions, but no broken bag of waters, and no baby in my arms.

Mom breezed up here as soon as she could (arriving Wednesday night), and like with Teagan's prenatal period, we hurried up so we could wait. The goodness of that right now is that Mom is caring for my older two, who LOVE her time and attention, and I am getting all this freedom to wonder what to do with myself! I have cleaned. I have cooked & baked. I have soaked in a tub. I have taken naps. I've paced, wondering how to sit still and just rest! But, I have had four delicious days of "doing" very little. I've read a few more chapters in a book.

Ahhhhh....Stephen, my sweet, take your time. I'm not rushing you. You are healthy, and you may enter the world whenever you want to--your sister's ready to catch you!

Looks like we made it...

...to 37 weeks, that is! ;-)

Now, to hold out for "Namma's" arrival. Just hold tight, Stephen!!

Ah-ha!

Now, THIS is why I'm still up at 4:47 AM! Stephen has decided to moon walk across my upper abdomen. What a wonderful gift! While I've been enjoying plenty of movement from him over the past two months, these are the moves I've been waiting for--the obvious sense of a particular limb or extremity! He's always awake at 4 AM (thus, so am I), but his movements are more subtle. Tonight? A full-on "hello" from my son.

Wow.

Thank you!

The little things...

I asked Tom to take care of a nasty-looking moth this evening, which found our ceiling fan lights an utter fascination. Smoosh it! (He vacced it up into the Dust Buster--smart solution, as I was later able to release it outside with the kids!).

Then I glanced over at our jars of "kept" caterpillars, wondering if I might have just incited the murder of one of our very own "pets"--but all were still contentedly behind glass, kept under lids.

In the meantime, Teagan & I stuck 6 dead yellow jackets in a remnant Ziploc bag after church today to bring home to show Logan. We found a mound of mulch under a tall, old, oak tree to be teeming with dying yellow jackets! We walked around that tree at least six times pointing out to each other one fading insect after another. They writhed from the tree trunk bark down to the roots, stepping slowly across the ground & falling legs up into little water puddles. There were at least 30--most in some state of departing life. Only six could be scooped up as already lifeless--the rest just sadly struggled. The cold is getting to them.

This is part of our homeschooling! These are animalia arthropoda insecta and it is fall! We aim at a Charlotte Mason schooling approach, with plenty of outdoor experiences leading our connectedness to the world around us (though I truthfully have a lot more to read to claim this officially...). Yep, we collect bugs; practically every day! Our Natural Science Lab is the largest classroom space we can find--wherever/whenever teachable moments arise, we stop and learn together.

And, now, leaves & acorns are piling up all over the house--so many undone projects right now! We tracked down native area leaves based on a piece in The Washington Post, but will have to do a re-collect this week, as our first set are already browning, and I'd like to iron these collections into wax paper for a lapbook. The area is really starting to burst with color, but the deep reds are not popping quite yet.

These are the little "things" that build a rich education. Horrah to homeschooling!

Forget THAT!

Yeah, um, nevermind that gluten-free thing. It's too much to take on with 3-5 weeks till Baby is born, and the other 30+ foods we try to NOT eat. My dear husband lost a few pounds (that was fast!), and agrees we can try to eat FEWER bready foods (though he insisted on his famous bratwurst wraps tonight, and we had blueberry scones with breakfast), but he complained of starving (bless his heart) only a few days into the New Family Food Plan. It was humorous to me (clearly I wasn't starving him...), but I was finding the process of planning more restricted meals & recipes to be more labor than I need to think about right now.

Speaking of labor, I made the possibly poor decision to watch a number of homebirths on YouTube last week, with my children sitting one on each knee. Sharing with my kids isn't what I regret (I'm glad they clearly understand what to expect); what I think undid me a bit was the recall of that Ring Of Fire that comes at the near-end. Oh, you know, somewhere between crowning & shoulders! Oh...Man! Women are right when they say you "forget" the pain.

Because Logan's birth was relatively quick (3+ hours in total from first morning contractions on a Thursday as I woke to dress for work to his placement on my body which followed an hour water labor), and Teagan's was an Olympic sprint to the finish (she emerged within minutes of my being rolled into her birthing room), I have anticipated this coming birth as a piece of cake to be savored by all involved parties. Baby pushes, I push, a few tight-eyed grunts and out pops our son. Teagan's urgent birth was terrorizing to me--moving so fast as to steal all control from The Momma. Logan's was nearly-perfect, tainted mostly by his "blueness" and immediate removal from my side. This one...well, he's a whole different person, isn't he?

As an individual, he seems to have a different idea, already, about his entry into the world. I've been having such strong Braxton Hicks contractions for so many weeks as to be very on edge about the timing of this birth. Sure, sure, the little baby counter above says I have 32 more days...WHAT!?!?!? Thirty two more days!? How did that come upon us so quickly!?!? Oh, as I was saying, the little baby counter above says I have 32 more days, but I've already been contracting for about that many, and I just feel a sense of "readiness" all the time...that is a slightly disturbing mental state to retain long-term.

I am NOT necessarily ready, as I have these lists of items to purchase, organize, stow aside, etc. to provide for my midwife, myself & Baby Stephen. Birth may not need to be treated as an emergency, or as an illness, but it ought not, either, be treated as a non event. I know that my other children's needs/schedules have both helped to positively distract me from an already-passed eight months of pregnancy (again, what!? Really? Eight months have passed!?!?), but also may have prevented me from fully owning this moment. I have told friends recently that I feel in some suspended state of denial--we planned for, dreamed for, hoped for and prayed for this little life to come into being, as we looked at our family like one missing a member, and now he's almost here!

Who will this little man be? Whom will he resemble? What is his temperament? Who will he grow to become?

My elder son stated this evening that he's excited Baby Stephen will be here soon because it means Namma & Dampa are coming. Funny. He doesn't particularly care to meet his little brother as much as to see his distant grandparents. That's my boy! He has been stressed about Stephen coming, as we've observed from many behavioral issues we've been managing (or trying to manage) for a couple months...but I am anticipating that the physical meeting of these two boys will bring about a bonding that will last a lifetime, regardless of Logan's current concerns.

When your child has Sensory Integration Dysfunction (AKA Sensory Processing Disorder), there are many issues that "concern" him, and bring about anxiety. In Logan's case, he is hyper aware of scents which others barely acknowledge--especially those related to, say, diapers! Unpleasant bathroom smells which most of us sort of expect and manage to work around can send my son to a gagging response that almost causes him to vomit.

In a similar way he has ears like a bat. My parents nicknamed me Radar as a child because I have this same frighteningly aware sense of hearing. A buzzing kitchen light distracts me so much when I'm cooking that I'd rather work in a poorly lit room. I can detect dripping faucets from several rooms away, and an analog clock cannot coexist in my bedroom as the ticking second hand is as bad as water torture to me. Sometimes when I rest my head on my pillow the sound of my own heartbeat, or of my eyelashes blinking (no I'm not kidding) will keep me awake, tossing & turning for ages--hence my eternal issue with insomnia. My husband doesn't like music on when we sleep (that keeps him awake), so I have occasionally fallen asleep playing music through earbuds off of my iPhone. So, Logan has those kinds of ears. In kiddie music concerts at the library this summer I watched him cower at sounds that most of the kids in the room were celebrating. We have to be careful not to sit too close to speakers, or he'll cover his ears & tuck in his head in what seems like pain.

Give that child the thought that a crying baby is going to enter his world.

So, stinkie diapers and screaming lungs enter 1000 square feet with a SI kid. Yep, I can see where Logan's fears originate.

Add to that the fact that Daddy has been unemployed since Monday, August 31st, and our overly-aware emotional boy also kicks into gear. What does a family do without income? Will we ever buy a minivan to give us all elbow room? Will that hoped-for single-family house come to us sooner, or now, even later? How will he sleep at night? How will his outdoor playtime be hampered? What in our world is about to be upended?

So, 32 days...or less. Deep, deep breathing for Momma, frantic continued job search for Daddy, belly-kisses & whispered "I love you's" from Big Sister Teagan to The Swelling Belly, and a lot of anxiety from Eldest Child.

Lord, reign over it all!!

Over all the earth
You reign on high
Every mountain stream
Every sunset sky
But my one request
Lord my only aim
Is that You’d reign in me again

Lord reign in me
Reign in Your power
Over all my dreams
In my darkest hour
You are the Lord
Of all I am
So won’t You reign in me again

Over every thought
Over every word
May my life reflect
The beauty of my Lord
‘Cause you mean more to me
Than any earthly thing
So won’t You reign in me again

"Lord Reign In Me"
(Brenton Brown)
Copyright © 1998 Vineyard Songs (UK/Eire). All rights reserved. International copyright secured.

"GF"

We've had some richly disturbing behavioral issues here--so I decided to go the "drastic" route of choosing gluten-free living for the kids and me. After one week I must say I am FAR more even! I have had to deal with discipline issues like always, and the only day I really lost myself coincided with a sneak snack of 2 mini Twix bars (which we purchased for the Halloween crowd early because I had double dollar coupons). That was yesterday, and I felt myself edgy just before I exploded...so, sugar PLUS gluten...yeah, not a good choice. Tom's already feeling withdrawal from bread--he was complaining to me this morning that he didn't know how he'd make it gluten free! That seems like a good indication that he needs to go gluten free. Anyway, where did I get this idea? We have several friends whose children have autism or Celiac, and live without the glutenous grains, testifying to the observable differences in their homes. Our son has his own set of circumstances which are "special" and the two of us butt heads regularly in our common areas of weakness, and I feel like we need every advantage on our side. So, we've completed one week of a more restricted living. *sigh*

By removing gluten, I am certainly making meal planning that much more difficult. Still, it's a challenge we can overcome, right?!

Restrictions For Teagan (21 + relatives):

CITRUS: tangerines, oranges, grapefruit, lemon, lime
FRUITS: grape +2, plum +2, cherry, strawberry
HERBS/SPICES: cinnamon, nutmeg, clove, ginger, oregano, sage, tea
NUTS:cocoa, chocolate, soy, brazil nuts
ROOT VEGETABLE: beet

My Restrictions (12 + relatives):

PROTEIN/BEANS: kidney, pinto (+3!), chicken, eggs
FRUITS: coconut, cranberry, tomato
DAIRY: cow's milk (& all related products)
GRAINS: quinoa!, wheat
OTHER: baker's & brewer's yeast

I am so grateful for this link I received from another local homeschooler--365 gluten-free slow-cooker recipes!!! A Year of Slowcooking.

Deep Breathing

Baby Stephen will be here in 56 days or less, according to my counter up top. I am 32 weeks pregnant today. Wow. This is overwhelming me, because my nesting instinct is very strong, and I know that this "nest" ain't ready! We have freecycled dozens of items to simplify our lives, and yet it feels like we've made almost no dent in the massively overwhelming possessions that overtake these 1,000 square feet of our home. I have to think bigger--I have to dump boxes of things, not one little item at a time. Sure, I feel freed by the packages I leave on the door with strangers' names on them, knowing our "things" aren't going into the dumpster or a landfill, but being repurposed by someone else! But, we just haven't moved enough OUT!

I want to feel comfort & peace when I enter the door--I want to feel less oppression of things! A dear friend of mine just downsized by more than half--they moved from a single-family house with a large lawn, playset, sunroom & sandbox, into a townhouse community where the lawn is done, a pool is available, and they share walls with neighbors. This move has proven to be a wise one for their family, and she seems so content in it! We are already there--living in small space for three years, knowing our neighbors intimately, and asking God constantly to help us remain content where he's planted us. I do feel contentment about living debt-free, that's for sure! But, despite our pared down existence, there is still too much stuff! We are bibliophiles, and half of our house resembles a library--so can I pass these books on? Well, it seems that at least once a week we reach over the futon to pull one of those tomes off the shelf to share with someone else--so, I love having access to books that have meaning to us, and have shaped our thinking, values & philosophies! That's a hard one.

Anyway, all this to say, I don't feel ready, yet, to be the mother of THREE children. I know there is more I can do to simplify all aspects of my life--spiritually I am delighted Tom & I have found a new weekly small group; mentally I am psyched that I have 6-8 new free hours each week while my children are in AWANA, gymnastics, Scouts, Sunday School and Movement & Motion with other leaders...I am not "needed" there and so I am having some nice "get ready" moments then; physically, I am going to take some of those new hours for massage, acupuncture & chiropractic care, as Stephen is riding low and pinching lots of parts of me. Sooooooo, I think the weeks ahead are looking up, and I think we're going to BE ready before he comes.

Or, at least, I'm HOPING so!!

Not-Yet-Four

Teagan washed her hands in the Starbucks' ladies' room, then reached up for the papertowels, which were far out of her reach:


"They don't like kids!" she exclaimed!

I pulled a couple towels down for her, agreeing!

****************

Logan & Teagan were looking all over the house last night for Logan's favorite buddy (stuffed animal, "Seal," which is actually a stuffed manatee). I reminded Logan that if Seal is so important, then Logan needs to be responsible for knowing where he is at all times! "Seal...seal!" the two of them called out over & over, as if the inanimate, grey, well-loved creature might suddenly reply, "Here I am!" Teagan wanted her parents' help and called down to Tom and me, "This is NO JOKE!"

Tom & I thought that to be so funny we couldn't contain ourselves!


***************

Teagan was having sweet moment with her dad, just talking about random whatnots, when she suddenly said, in all seriousness, "As I go through this life, I am going to need someone to drive me around."

As I go through this life!?!? Where does she come up with this stuff? We are certain Teagan will grow up to be a stand-up comedienne. She is hysterical!!!

More Caterpillars!!

I didn't previously record the little fuzzy white caterpillar we found in June--



Apparently, it is a Fall Webworm: (this one? Hyphantria cunea (Arctiidae)? We kept him till he closed himself in a little netted wrap, but the rain got in his jar and drowned him...now, as much as I love nature, and feeding the birds and all, I cannot say I mourned the loss of a WEBWORM!!

This area is teeming with cool creepers!

Now, here's the record of another slinkie dude we found about 10 days ago. I almost stepped on this black, fuzzy guy, tucked quietly into a corner of our shed (nowhere near tasty green leaves). I used the fantastic site, "What's That Bug?" to get me started down the right identification path, then more online searches to positively ID the little guy. Since I have recently lost the battery of our digi camera, I had to take these pics with my iPhone, and there's no macro lens or focusing power on the iPhone cam, so I apologize for the quality of these photos!

You might not be able to tell from this shot that it has orange stripes around each body segment:


That was a major clue to its identification. Another clue was how it curls up when you to touch it, to protect itself:


This is most certainly a Giant Leopard Moth (AKA the Hypercompe scribonia)! The one I reported about in my last entry was an American Dagger Moth (Species Acronicta americana). So now we have both in jars near the window. The GLM is doing really well, eating fresh leaves and discarding little pebbles to the bottom of the jar (if you know what I mean). The ADM weaved himself a rough bag around his body weeks ago, and hasn't budged.


Here is the ADM's "cocoon," difficult to discern from a dead leaf, and especially difficult to see through the glass jar with my iPhone photo options! Ugh. Anyway, it's still cool to be watching the metamorphosis of two local crawlies!



By the way, another great bug ID site is BugGuide.net, where I was able to identify this tuxedo-wearing sweetheart we found in July while blackberry picking as a Clymene Moth a tiger moth also of the family Arctiidae (like the Giant Leopard Moth & Fall Webworm!):

[more details, for homeschoolers learning classifications]:

ALL FOUR ARE:
Kingdom Animalia (Animals)
Phylum Arthropoda (Arthropods)
Class Insecta (Insects)
Order Lepidoptera (Butterflies and Moths)
No Taxon (Moths)
Superfamily Noctuoidea

Then, the distinctions come @:
Family Arctiidae (Tiger Moths)
Subfamily Arctiinae (Tiger Moths)
Tribe Arctiini
Genus Hyphantria
Species cunea (Fall Webworm Moth - Hodges#8140)

Family Arctiidae (Tiger Moths)
Subfamily Arctiinae (Tiger Moths)
Tribe Arctiini
Genus Hypercompe
Species scribonia (Giant Leopard Moth - Hodges#8146)

Family Arctiidae (Tiger Moths)
Subfamily Arctiinae (Tiger Moths)
Tribe Callimorphini
Genus Haploa
Species clymene (Clymene Moth - Hodges#8107)

Family Noctuidae (Owlet Moths)
Subfamily Acronictinae
Genus Acronicta (Dagger Moths)
Species americana (American Dagger Moth - Hodges#9200)

All Wrapped Up

Wow! Day One, found the caterpillar; Day Two, it spun itself onto the maple branches into a weird net of brown flecky silk stuff. Cool! Now, is our pickle jar large enough for him to get those wings opened up and show us all of his ugliness?

We'll see. Update to follow.

Transforming Backwards

Here's something weird in nature. When you typically think of a caterpillar changing into a flying insect, don't you consider unfolding beauty? So, how can this be explained? We found this gorgeous caterpillar on the sidewalk today.



Oh, MAN, is this thing UGLY when it turns into the American Dagger Moth!



Regardless, capturing, researching & investigating this caterpillar was one more beautiful moment in my children's childhood:

More dreams...

#1
Logan:
I had a dream

About what?

That I found the Monitor & Merrimac.

Oh? Where were they?

Near a harbor.

Tell me more.

Well, I don't remember a lot of it, but Seal was in it.

(Seal is the name of Logan's stuffed manatee, who goes everywhere with him).


#2:
Teagan:
I fell in a pit and I called the rescue people and they said, "I'm coming that way," and then there was only two people and I wonder why, and then I just said, "This doesn't look like rainbow color one," so... but it was and Lambchop was down there with me. They needed to yell down, and said, "Littlest first!" and then everybody said, "What's happening here? What's happening here?" But they just walked past. And then they said, "Do not enter, because I am rescuing people.!" So they all never came back. So I stayed over there and good thing he had two ropes to tie into the holes so no one could come in his way. That's the end! And I went happily home ever again. And then he was trying to grab the paper that say, "Do Not Enter, Everybody!" And then somebody else fell into the pit because they were too tired, and they said, "Is you the littlest first?" "No, I'm big!" "OK. I'm coming down to get you." And there was two, you know why? 'Cause one was to go down and tie Lambchop and the other one was to pull him up. (age 3 1/2)

She Will Be King!

Teagan woke halfway through the night & asked me to crawl into bed with her. Then she told me, "I don't have any dreams."

"Would you like some?" I asked, "What would you like to dream about?" I thought of her recent declaration that she'd like to be a zookeeper when she grows up. "Animals?"

"No. I dream of castles."

"Oh. Castles, huh? And are you a princess?"

"I am King," she reports.

"King? OK. Are you a kind king?"

"No."

"You're not? Are you a mean king?"

"Yes."

"Who are you mean to, Tea?"

"To the bad guys."

"Well, OK, that makes sense. You are mean to the bad guys. Are you going to throw them in the dungeon, then?"

"Yes."

Huh. My daughter! Her brother's influence is strong & obvious, no? Let her dream on!

No Hospital Homilies For Me!

The third "9th" was her road--not 9th Street, or 9th Place, but 9th Road! Arlington's weird like that. Tammi was outdoors, weeding, as I approached. I waved from my car, as I signed off of a rare phone call with my sister. A gardening midwife. Fits!

We started talking right away as if we'd met before, though this was our initial intake. I was surprisingly taken aback by the neat-as-a-pin interior of her living room, the clean berber carpet, the feng shui of it all. No one could find themselves uncomfortable here! I was parched, and Tammi was happy to oblige my request for a tall glass of cold water.

So, I'm committed to doing this! I feel empowered. Brave. Even nervous, but I am readying myself psychologically and spiritually to take on this experience differently than I did with my first two children. I am ready to trust myself, my Father in heaven, and Mrs. Tammi McKinley with the birth of Stephen Lawrence!

Birthing at home. Women around the world squat against a tree and birth babies in all sorts of climates and environs, but in America we have medicated birth and turned it into a dire emergency worthy of latex gloves, pale green masks & beeping machines. Before there were fetal monitors and doppler instruments, there was the Grand Creator of all Life--and a plan for birth which managed to work for...oh, you know...THOUSANDS of years! Yes, yes, many remind me, infant mortality was high in the pre-industrial age...

Do you realize that the infant mortality in AMERICA is higher than almost any modern country? True. We're second to LATVIA!! I read it in The Post, and here is CNN's report on this shocker! And, those are babies born with all the medical interventions you can muster up! Vacuums suck babies into the world. Forceps pluck & pull them out. Knives are ready to cut into Momma to extract newborns at the show of a stray eyelash (*blink*). But, our babies die here...just like anywhere else in the world. We have not perfected this process. Why? Because the truth about Life is that nothing is perfect, and we have no guarantees--even that we get to hold the babies we carry in vitro.

I know women who have tragically (even painfully) lost their babies at all stages along the 9-month waiting period, as well as those who've held their babes in arms as they passed away within hours of taking their first earthly breaths. Truthfully, no woman is immune. Not you. Not I.

Now, with that sobering thought in mind, let me tell you about my two babies' births. I labored for a mere 5 hours with Logan. Some at home, some along Hwy 64 West, some in a soothing "hot" tub, and the final bit for 45 minutes on a queen size bed. It felt really fast for my mom, husband and me, but it was just perfect, because I was able to play my laboring music (hand-selected songs that take me to a "happy place"), and get into a rhythm with my body and emerging Baby Boy. I know my 5-hour labor is not necessarily typical, but then I didn't take any drugs which altered my body's reactions to the natural processes going on within me...AND, I think I have an unusually strong pain tolerance. Mom birthed my sister and me quickly, so it's apparently in my genes.

But, Teagan's birth was briefer...

...by a LOT!

My mom sneezed at 4:45 AM, I woke up, my water broke, and it all began. Our 35-minute drive to the hospital birthing center was almost 5 minutes too long. Same as Logan: labored at home, labored in the car (SCREAMING, "Don't Come Yet, BABY!"), briefly labored in the room. VERY briefly! Teagan was born within FIVE minutes of my entering that room. I was unable to undress myself, and she was born while some clothes were still on me. I almost had a parking lot baby.

She was perfectly healthy, but the birth was totally out-of-control frightening to me!

Before I go on, I want to say that I do not want my post to come off as a judgment of any mom whose birth was 100% hospital/medical/typical of American births today. A dear friend recently C-sectioned, and I cannot make a call on that process for her--it's none of my personal business, and the event has passed. Sweet Baby Girl is here! THAT is the most beautiful icing on whatever cake sits beneath.

Many, many friends of mine (& family) have not had the birth experiences I have--my sister-in-law was in labor for something like 35 hours!

But, in light of Logan's & Teagan's births I have to make a decision that matches MY body's reaction to this process, and the fact is, I move FAST when it comes to birthing babies.

So, now we live in Northern Virginia. What do you know about DC traffic?

How about this fact? In an article from three weeks ago:
"Washington, D.C. Made Top 10 Most Traffic-Congested Cities – Traffic Jams Persist Despite Recession."

Top Ten? It is NUMBER 2, behind L.A.!

No, I do not live in DC proper. I live 25 miles outside of the city. We are a "bedroom community" to the nation's capitol. Traffic out here is steady, heavy & somewhat predictable, but baby-labor is not! What if I start laboring at the same time as I did with Lo & Tea? We were on 64 West with both babes during morning commute times, and my husband wasn't breaking any speed limits to get us to DePaul!! I got to the hospital around 8:30/9-ish for Lo, and 6:30 AM for Tea. Those are PRIME traffic jam hours in this neck of the woods.

Would I prefer a highway birth, with the dirty car floor at my feet, and the kids in the carseats feeling confused and scared as Daddy tries to decide whether to keep advancing towards the hospital or pull off of Fairfax County Parkway & endanger all of our lives as he helps deliver our son in cramped quarters? Um...no! But, if this baby follows Logan's or Teagan's patterns (i.e. my body's mode of birthing), then that possibility is pretty high, on my way to meet up with the OB/GYN at the hospital 8.22 miles southeast of us.

So, I've thought, & I've prayed, & I tried to make it work, driving out to an OB/GYN 11.63 miles from home, taking Fairfax County Parkway to Rt. 50 East to Lee Highway. Highways. Parkways. Routes. It's heavy traffic! In the end, that facility and I had a different idea about my birth plan, and it was easy for me to walk away.

That is what led me, today, to a safe, sweet, peaceful house in Arlington, Virginia. That is why I took the advice of 16 homebirthers in my local homeschooling community and set up today's interview. I believe in a Creator God who designed my body to do this thing!, and I know that He has given me everything I need to do it well, and even solo, if I needed to! Women, today, simply do not trust our bodies. We don't understand them, and I think it is far too easy to trust the white-coated professional who tells you what to do, where & how (but not always why!).

Hmmmmmm. Sort of reminds me of some people's criticisms of the Church! When the homily was in Latin, and frescos and stained glass were meant to illustrate the point to the masses of illiterate, people just trusted what they did not understand (literally! Even as Latin became a "dead language!"). They trusted the man in the white robe & peaked hat. They did not ask questions, and they, therefore, did not always come to know the depth of faith that I feel I have access to today. The Church fell apart by leading by the "Follow Me Because I Know Better & I Say So" leadership style. Some of those men in peaked hats horribly misused their authority--permanently devastating many people. Our recent American history reports some of the worst abuses of authority the Church has known.

Are today's hospitals not today's Old Time Religion with new coats & caps?

Maybe it's the Protestant in me that prefers relationship! Relationship with my Savior which starts at my opening my own copy of Scripture and kneeling at my own bedside talking to the One who made me; and relationship with my children as they work with me to enter this world. Oh, yes, this fits me much better than the sterile, brightly lit room that begs for my insurance dollars to fill the coffer. The parallels are getting stronger in this metaphor! Shew--that's a whole new essay!! Thinking aloud, here...

Anyway. We'll be giving birth in the living room. Oh, man, am I glad I have women around me who prodded me to consider it more seriously! Thank you, Ladies!


Oh, had I a golden thread
And a needle so fine
I’d weave a magic strand
Of rainbow design
Of rainbow design
In it I’d weave the bravery
Of women giving birth
In it I’d weave the innocence
Of the children over all the earth
Children of all the earth
Far over the water,
I’d stretch my magic band
To every city,
To every single land
To every land
Show my brothers and my sisters
My rainbow design
Bind up this sorry world
With hand and heart and mind
Hand and heart and mind
Oh, had I a golden thread
And a needle so fine
I’d weave a magic strand
Of rainbow design
Of rainbow design

Eva Cassidy, "Oh, Had I A Golden Thread" lyrics

Facebook Faceoff

The Foundation: Loss
Since I attended three elementary schools, two middle schools, two high schools (and more colleges than I dare share with you), the theme of loss has always been a thread in my life history. I met young girls I loved & spent endless hours with them—sometimes for three or four years—and then our family had one or another reason to move away. The moves were distant, and staying in touch typically lasted just a year or so. I eventually lost track of sets of friends with each transition, as our maturing lives meant many changes across the distance, and I often tired of the gossipy update letters about my former classmates. Our lives diverged significantly, with different college choices (or not), marriage (or not), faith decisions (or not) and career paths, which left us with less common ground.



Where Rediscovery Equals Healing
With Facebook, I have been able to connect again with one after another friend from my past, and hold on. In those reunions with people I lost over time, some of my young-child hurts have been healed. I have rediscovered friends from Michigan, Virginia, Texas, Pennsylvania, Connecticut and beyond. Gaps in my life story have been filled! Four hundred fifty five friends later, and…

What? Did I just type 455 friends? Well, Facebook labels any connections you make on their site, “friends.” I cannot say I’d make a date for a cup of tea and a Saturday matinee with all 455+ of those people I’ve linked to online (many are former or current colleagues in business or homeschooling), but that is one of the appeals of this social networking space—that your former boss is offered the same label as a sorority sister: “friend.”

Facebook quickly became an active and addictive escape for me. My older son is an intense child, wild in his own ways, and often difficult to parent. When I preferred to part from him and enjoy myself hidden away in the dark, I disappeared into the bluish glow of my desk and the deceptively inviting screen, where I peered into any former co-ed’s pages to “meet” their children, see where they live, and check out their wedding photos whether we were even in the same cliques in high school. Facebook is like the largest party I’d ever attended, where everyone has brought along a photo album to pass around! Better than that, we pull out the Scrabble board & challenge each other’s word power, or play a mindless game of “How Well Do You Know Me?”

I used to have mixed up dreams like that. After so many moves, I would wake up talking myself out of believing that Amy knew Christine, who knew Susan. In the dreams they’d all been together with me for some occasion, but when I woke, I separated them again—one was in Michigan, one in Texas, one in Connecticut. They’d never met in real life, though I was sure they’d like each other if they could. On Facebook, each can now see comments posted on my “wall” by the other, and my dreams of childhood are playing out before me! Amy and Christine join Susan to write me notes where the other can see, read, and even respond! What a freakish “miracle!”

Watching my dreams come alive on the flat screen kept me up too late at night. I confess I was daily checking first thing in the morning; daily popping back in after lunch; daily playing games in the evening! Whenever I felt restless in the mundane, I chased the curious & intriguing on Facebook. YouTube videos posted by “friends” were hysterical, or made me ponder a new thought. Emails coming into my network-only inbox were more intentional and specific than the overflow of spam, phishing and newsletters cramming my regular email inbox. Photo albums are just fascinating, and new baby announcements are always a quick and absorbing draw. I cannot fathom how many hours of my weeks were sponged up into Facebook over the months that it had control over me.

Time to Take Inventory!
What happened in my home, though, was not so fun. My children were getting my back more than my face! My already challenging son began acting out more intensely, and our home became troubled. What could be so much more intriguing on that screen than getting on the floor with my son to examine the details of his newest city build-out? LEGO blocks, Lincoln Logs and train tracks crisscrossed our floor in intricate detail, but I was annoyed when he called me to look, because I had another post to write!



I was raised in a home where addiction ruled many adults around me—and their peers. I had to recognize, quickly, that Facebook held and controlled me just like going to bars to socialize and drink had gripped my mentoring adults in my own childhood. Did I want my children to be Adult Children of a Facebook Addict, in lifelong recovery because of their absent mother?


Downsizing the Screentime
Lent approached. It was obvious what I needed to leave behind for those forty days. Another friend of mine initiated a Facebook group of others preparing to breakaway for the Ash Wednesday to Easter Sunday season. Our group grew, and national news engines got wind of it. I was interviewed for the Wall Street Journal about the coming fast!

Leaving Facebook for forty days was one of the most freeing decisions of my life. We traveled to see family, and the children had their mom back during a beautiful spring. We walked more, we played together, we baked, I attended the annual March for Life in D.C., and met up there with my fellow Facebook buddy IRL ("in real life"), who was also fasting. The hours I had sacrificed to the screen were back, and belonged to my family. I even got pregnant during my Facebook Fast!!

As the Lent season came to a close I felt no starving desperation to log back on. I waited a few days, and slowly returned. I set a boundary for myself, and committed to only sign in on what I termed, “Facebook Fridays.” This worked for a couple months, but then I got sucked back in by cheating on a Saturday, then a Tuesday, then 5 days in one week. This is what you might call “falling off the wagon!”

Facing Down Facebook
How does an addict break away? COMPLETELY! The trouble with Facebook, is that my live address book is there. If I can’t find someone’s email address or phone number, I sign onto Facebook, and shoot them a message, or post on their wall. I make business contacts there as well. Worse than that, though, is that I have been witnessing online! I reconnected with a friend now living a lesbian lifestyle, with a high school pal who’d found Jesus, and with a woman adamantly pro-choice. I have posted over and again, justifying my words as “salt and light.” Occasionally, posts get very controversial, heated, and even mean between “friends” over issues of politics and/or religion (pre-Lenten fast, the McCain/Obama election was a particularly busy posting period for so many of us!). I often put my virtual foot in my virtual mouth because of my passionate feelings on particular topics…

And of course, once again, my family is left in the dust when I engage with digital faces instead of the tender ones growing up too fast around me!


Accountability
The only way I can personally manage Facebook is to have someone else manage it for me! I gave my husband my password, asked him to change it, and now he has the only key to my profile. I am returning to my once a week dedication, with his help. He can sign me on at 10 PM on Fridays, and I am committed to be off before midnight. In this way, I can maintain the online relationships I want to, hide the updates on people I don’t need to hear from regularly, and see the newborn photos of my dear (true) friends’ children. In fact, so many of my IRL friends have migrated their main communications to Facebook that it is nice to pop in occasionally.

As I have been very frank on Facebook and on my blog pages about my addiction, the beauty is that others have admitted (on my wall!) pulling their own use back due to my leading example. There isn’t anything intrinsically wrong or evil with Facebook or other social networks—as I’ve mentioned, I’ve found Facebook to be a nearly miraculous tool for healing in my life! But, for those with addictive personalities or backgrounds, it can be such a “Time Suck” (can you hear the sucking sound of your life going down the drain?).

That was the case for me. Maybe you need a Facebook Fridays Fasting plan, too? Or, if you struggle with addiction in your life, already, perhaps you need total abstinence. Don’t be afraid to face yourself in the mirror in your honest inventory of your “need” for Facebook. Go ahead, have a Facebook Faceoff!

What can replace your time online? Scripture reading, prayer, devotions, exercise, time with your husband, children, the friends who’ve been there long before Facebook, and will be long after you sign off. Everything you used to do before Facebook & Twitter got a hold on you! Rediscover your IRL life!! Inhale, exhale, and then read over my modification of AA’s Twelve Steps, print them, and stick them on your computer screen!

Godspeed!

"My Stupid Mouth"

This is the song that repeats itself in my head every time I have the STUPID idea to break away from fast of my once-a-week Facebook Friday. See? This is true addiction! Knowing what not to do, and diving right in, anyway!!

My stupid mouth
Has got me in trouble
I said too much again
To a date over dinner yesterday
And I could see
She was offended
She said "well anyway..."
Just dying for a subject change


Oh, another social casualty
Score one more for me
How could I forget?
Mama said "think before speaking"
No filter in my head
Oh, what's a boy to do
I guess he better find what soon


We bit our lips
She looked out the window
Rolling tiny balls of napkin paper
I played a quick game of chess with the salt and pepper shaker
And I could see clearly, An indelible line was drawn
Between what was good, what JUST slipped out and what went wrong


Oh, the way she feels about me has changed
Thanks for playing, try again.
How could I forget?
Mama said "think before speaking"
No filter in my head
Oh, what's a boy to do
I guess he better find one


I'm never speaking up again
It only hurts me
I'd rather be a mystery
Than she desert me


Oh I'm never speaking up again
Starting now... Starting now


One more thing
Why is it my fault?
So maybe I try too hard
But it's all because of this desire
I just wanna be liked
I just wanna be funny
Looks like the jokes on me
So call me captain backfire


I'm never speaking up again
it only hurts me
I'd rather be a mystery
than she desert me


oh i'm never speaking up again
i'm never speaking up again
i'm never speaking up again
Starting now, starting now...

(c) John Mayer

Defeat...or not!

My challenging son has taken me to the end of myself. I find I have no creativity, little joy, and barely even a foundation of energy to make it through this new day. However, I poured my salty tears out on my floor last night--twice--and I know this with all of my heart--the Holy Spirit intervened on my behalf, and Jesus heard me.

I do not feel refreshed this morning--I didn't sleep enough last night. I do not feel energetic this morning--the memory of yesterday is too profoundly present. What I do feel is hopeful, even in my exhaustion, because I stand on the Word of God, which makes so many promises to me. First is that when I am weak, He is strong (1 Corinthians 4:10). No, no, not "he," Logan (although, certainly he is STRONG!)! No. I am talking about my God! My God is bigger than my weakness! This firm faith I have carries me through my scratchiest & most painful moments.

I wrote an article about this very issue that was just published in the July 2009 edition of My Friend Debbie, today, called "Hope in His Hands." The bottom line, if you don't have time right now to pop over there to read the entire piece (though I highly recommend it!), is this:

" I am not capable of overriding God's plan for my children. I will do my very best to be a good mom to them, and some days I will soar as the best mom they or any child could have! But, other days I may be their “worst enemy”—or even my own--working against the plan of God! However, I am not capable of defeating God's plan. This is the hopeful message I have to share with myself today--and with you. Even on my son's most miserable day, he was still created with a purpose. This message is for everyone!

I think that's all I have to say about that. I'm going to follow Dr. Laura Schlessinger's advice now, throw out vanity (my eyes are puffy & I look ten years older today), and, instead, "Go, take on the day!"

Indelible Embrace

Logan and I pulled up to the house after two hours of Mommy/son time, while Teagan had remained at home with Daddy for her nap and dinner. As my headlights hit the townhouse wall, I noticed, in the lower right hand corner of our front window, Teagan's beautiful face and her fingers, pulling her up on tiptoe. She had been watching for us, missing her brother, and as soon as we pulled in, her sweet eyes disappeared from my sight, and she ran to tell Daddy we were home.

As Logan stepped out of the car, Teagan ran down the front steps, her arms wide, straight into the open arms of her brother.

They hugged, and Logan picked her right up off the ground.

Some have joked that I cannot remember portions of my life for which I do not have a photograph, but that priceless moment will never leave my memory. That is all any parent could ever dream for her children! Tom & I recalled it tonight with tears welling up in our eyes. They adore each other so much! I pray they make room for Baby #3 in there somehow!!

Wow.

Deconstructing the Decomposing

Daddy? What are listening to?

Stauss

Oh.... (seems to be processing...so Tom replies:)

...a composer.

Ohhhhhhhh! (long pause). What's a decomposer?

Perfect Perfectionism

The greatest all-time Olympian, swimmer Michael Phelps, has been described as a perfectionist. By reaching for the seemingly impossible and settling for nothing less than the best, he attained his goals and beyond. So, is anything wrong with perfectionism?

St. Matthew urges us to, “be perfect as (our) heavenly father is perfect.” (Matthew 5:48) And, Jesus answered a man trying to achieve salvation through his obedience to law (or through his works), by saying, “If you want to be perfect, go, sell all your possessions and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.” (Matthew 19:21)

But Hebrews 7:11 reminds me that perfect attention to God’s law was an unattainable challenge to man. As God’s Chosen people worked for His approval and their own salvation, their acts took on greater importance than the heart behind the law. The gap that existed between God and man clearly defined our need for a “better hope,” (Hebrews 7:19), which came through our eternally present high priest, Jesus.

So, are we to reach for perfection, or not? The answer is found in perspective.



Romans 3:23 is a critical verse to keep in mind as we evaluate this issue. All have sinned. Not one of us is perfect. All fall short of God’s glory. So, as we strive to be more Christlike in character, we must, “consider others better than ourselves,” (Philippians 2:13), and not lord over their imperfections with rigid judgment and a wagging finger from some lofty pedestal! (Matthew 7:1-5)

Only God’s way is perfect (2 Samuel 2:31, Psalm 18:30), and while we must try for perfect faithfulness, perfect peace and perfect unity, we should not look for the external to be perfect, nor place an expectation of perfection on others’ behavior and actions.

This is most difficult for me as a Type-A mom, because as flawed as I am, children are further, still, from perfection. They have little self-discipline, short tempers, and a very long way to go. Their growth is dependent on my gentle guidance and teaching along the way. When I am impatient, I think I am responding to their naturally sinful inability to reach my unattainable goals. Enter grace!



I praise God that His grace is sufficient for me. His power is made perfect in (my) weakness! (2 Corinthians 12:9) As a woman who longs to raise my children to know and understand Christ’s power, I must extend and demonstrate grace to them over judgment, and always keep in mind that unfailing love is the greatest of all God’s gifts. (I Corinthians 13:8, 13) As a mom, let me daily choose love and grace over perfectionism. Ironically, in doing this, I may come closer to being made perfect!

Santa's a fake!?!?

Mom! N doesn't believe in Santa. He says it's just Mom & Dad. So I said, "Well then who goes 'ho-ho-ho' and gives you presents?"

We laughed together, but I didn't address the bigger issue--just said, "Some people don't celebrate Santa, sweetheart." Then he ran back outside, seemingly content. Moments later, my daughter came running into the room, screaming, "Mom! N says Santa is stupid!"

Great. First incidents of discrimination against my kids' beliefs...and this one, being a false one, is hard to defend at this point--I mean, it's JUNE! I am not prepared! I called the kids in to get the whole story.

Logan had been reading a Calvin & Hobbes book with N--one strip was about Calvin protesting Hobbes' lack of gifts from Santa. This is when Neighbor N put his two cents into the picture, "I think Santa is a FAKE!"

So...breakfast dialogue today was about half a bubble off plumb for us...

What do I teach out of this? I told the kids that even though we don't watch or endorse Sponge Bob Square Pants, we don't tell our friends, who do, that it's stupid, do we? I also endorsed the story I have repeated to the children each December--the true story of a saint and martyr named Nicholas. When this "fairy tale" finally falls apart, I want to stand on the historic truth of Nicholas' life of service, humility & giving.

As we talked about Christmas, and Santa, and others' beliefs, I remembered a couple Christmases back when Logan met Jack's little elf--it's a tradition in some homes to bring him out before Christmas so he reports to Santa on the children's behavior. Jack is older than Logan, but Logan said the elf wasn't REAL, and Jack protested in tears, as he ran to report to his mom...

...and I reminded Logan how Jack had been hurt by Logan's unknown insensitivity--and how we need to be careful to be aware of others' traditions (I called our celebration of Santa a tradition, rather than a belief...)

...and now I'm thinking of my friends who've chosen to not include Santa in their Christmas celebrations...and all that I have to prepare to unravel for Logan...but had not been prepared to discuss with Teagan already.

Today, I am considering all that the older kids might share with Logan before his mom & dad do...though we've already discussed Where Babies Come From, since I'm expecting one...

*sigh*

Twelve Steps off the Computer...

(crossposted on Maddening Mom Fusings & this site, Modern Mom Musings...):

1. I am powerless over connecting online, & my life has become unmanageable.

2. Jesus can restore my sanity.

3. I need to turn my will & life over to Christ DAILY.

4. I have made a searching & fearless moral inventory of myself.

5. I admit to my family & myself & to God, the exact nature of my wrongs.

6. I am entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.

7. I am humbly asking Him to remove my shortcomings.

8. I have made a list of all the people I have harmed, and want to make amends to them all.

9. I have made direct amends to such people.

10. I will continue to take personal inventory, and when I am wrong, promptly admit it.

11. I am seeking, through prayer & meditation, to improve my personal relationship with Christ, praying only for knowledge of His will for me, and the power to carry it out.

12. Having had a spiritual awakening as a result of these Steps & Christ's grace, I will try to carry this message to other addicts & practice these principles in all my affairs.


Think I'm an extremist? Well, every time I get sucked into Facebook, or online games, or checking frantically for new emails, I lose time...I lose a sense of boundaries (like bedtime, and mealtime, and the like). I am willing to step forward & say, this is truly an addiction! It's not pornography, or alcohol, cigarettes or drugs...but it's like a drug--there is some need in my brain that is being fed by all these little electrons--& I'd prefer to pick pea pods off the struggling plant my kids & I grew in our backyard than sit here in this chair that's giving me varicose veins! Hear me?

So, less of the Mod Mom Musings is a really good thing. Celebrate with me! ;-)

Ciao for now.

Apprenticing

One of our pastors gave a lesson on apprenticeship in July, 2006 (shortly before we moved up north), and I've kept a little scrap of paper since then, with my quickly dashed notes. Think I'll throw out the paper & put the thought here, instead!

This so TOTALLY applies to being a homeschooling parent. If I take this approach (esp. in science!), I think all of our lessons will transfer well.

1. I do; you watch
2. I do; you help
3. You do; I help
4. You do; I watch


COOL, huh?

(Homage to Teddy Roosevelt)

My son came barreling into the kitchen weeping about 30 minutes ago. That's not unusual: sometimes another child accidentally hurts him, sometimes he falls off his bike, sometimes he's just upset about a childish injustice in outdoor play. We allow Logan free play outdoors with the other neighborhood children almost daily--all of the collective parents have one eye & one ear open as we allow our children some non-helicopter-parent time. A couple of us set a boundary like, "30 minutes, then come in for dinner." Tonight was like that. I was making dinner, Logan & a buddy were playing with squirt guns, and sticks.

Yesterday, they were characters out of Star Wars; some days they do a cops & robbers type of play. I'm not sure what today's game was, but Logan had chosen his favorite 4' long walking stick for their adventures.

Sticks.

I don't remember whacking sticks about in the air as a little girl. My son is a sensory-seeker, however, and he is 100% boy. He & his little buddies across the street take up long sticks as light sabers, guns, canes, umbrellas, horses, the rubicon, etc. We keep a small collection of the best behind our peonies, out of sight from passersby.

Logan's pal was squirting Lo in the face with water too many times, so Lo raised the stick in play to say, "Stop, or I'll get you with my spear!" His buddy didn't feel threatened--he knew this was part of their play. The neighbor lady whom we've never spoken to before, did NOT think this stick play was humorous, however, and yelled at my son to, "Put that stick DOWN!"

Logan did so, immediately. She picked it up & launched it into her yard...then Logan came running to me, telling me someone had taken his favorite walking stick--"a stranger!"

His father & I went to the woman's house to find out the full story--we were open to her version, and were not angry (though definitely curious). Both boys claimed she'd yelled at them & that they were scared of her--a third neighborhood boy confirmed their story. They all said she was "mean." I wanted to know if her motivation was out of fear that Logan might hurt his buddy--in case she was stepping in to protect the other child, and not just exerting some random judgment over the situation.

Did our son go into her yard? Seems the answer was no, but that he was whacking the stick around, and hitting things. Like what, I wanted to know, like trees? Sure, like trees, her car (she claimed)... "Did my son hit your car?" I asked, "because he claims that he did not." No, in fact, he was not either on her property, nor hitting her car. I asked her to please let us know directly if either of those things ever happened--we instructed Logan, in front of our previously invisible neighbor, that he is to stay off of her property & go nowhere near her vehicle. She said he can swing a stick around on his own property, but made clear that he should not do so on her property, nor the sidewalk (again, we have now established that Logan was neither on her property, nor near her van).

The sidewalk is public property, I reminded her, as my husband said that was not her place.

I told her that these two boys are dear friends, that the other did not feel threatened by mine, that they were playing and laughing, and that we were not clear on what his offense had been. I said, "Boys play with sticks," and shrugged.

"In fact," she replied, "None of the boys I know do."

My husband's reply was classic!!

"Well, we are raising our son to be a man."

Oh my goodness!!!!

Needless to say, it was an awkward exchange. We've lived here for nearly 3 years and never heard hide nor hair from this woman, but she scared the crud out of our boy this evening. Lesson learned. Walk around the "woman's sidewalk" from now on.

Or, better yet, walk softly when you carry your big stick!

Breathing very nicely, thank you

UPDATE:
Thoroughly enjoying my time away from most things electronic.

Just thought I'd drop a quick update, since I have no interest in hanging out here for an hour. I'm going to bed!

(grins)

Heroism...continued

O God, early in the morning I cry to you.
Help me to pray and gather my thoughts to you, I cannot do it alone.
In me it is dark, but with you there is light;
I am lonely, but you do not desert me;
My courage fails me, but with you there is help;
I am restless, but with you there is peace;
in me there is bitterness, but with you there is patience;
I do not understand your ways, but you know the way for me.
Father in Heaven praise and thanks be to you for the night’s rest,
Praise and thanks be to you for the new day.
Praise and thanks be to you for all your loving-kindness and faithfulness in my past life.
You have shown me so much goodness; let me also accept what is hard to bear from your hand.
You will not lay a heavier burden on me than I can carry.
You make all things serve for the best for your children.
Lord, whatever this day brings, your name be praised.


-Dietrich Bonhoeffer, [A prayer written in Tegel prison, Berlin]

The 12 Steps...

Decided to be my own hero & get OFF the Internet!

So, no more NoMoBloPo for me. It's my second attempt, and I do not need the pressure of writing an inspirational post every day. I write for My Friend Debbie right now, as well as editing for the site, and am still maintaining my part time job with CBN, so I don't have time to homeschool my kids, keep a clean house, maintain a budget, clip coupons, do laundry, plan family travel/visits, keep up those two assignments, be a supportive & available wife, AND write on this blog just because I said I would! Nah.

Well, I've been an open book--Facebook sucked me in, Yahoo groups demanded my time, and my children saw my back more than my smiling face--so, I've declared myself an official addict, in need of intervention!

Gotta go! The kids need me!

God, grant me the SERENITY to accept the things I cannot change, the POWER to change the things I can, and the WISDOM to know the difference!

Amen!

Heroes: Day 4/30--WIVES

My heroes today are all my girlfriends who have struggled through the difficulties of a "bad marriage" to come out the other end more mature, more at peace, and now living in a slammin' awesome partnership! I have some very specific friends in mind in a few different states--LR, AA, KM, KB, KB2, NC, AH, DH, et al... Sometimes we hit some uncomfortably rocky paths--heck, sometimes we're sliding on our rear ends down a steep crevice!!--but endurance, faith and hard work can carry us through to the other side--to a healthy & vibrant relationship that is better for its depth and history.

Nope, it's not my anniversary or anything, but I'm just loving my husband, today. Thinking about our nearly-14-years of married life, and about how much he's put up with me... and, I know he'd confess that he hasn't been the easiest man to live with many a day, either. But, hey! Look at us! We have a third child on the way, and we are making every day come together, and we're at an absolutely beautiful peak right now. So, I want to thank my friends, LR, AA, KM, KB & KB2, NC, AH, DH, for demonstrating that even marriages that seem to have all odds against them can go beyond surviving...to thriving!

So, to those of you questioning the viability or vitality of your own relationship--I encourage you to work it through! Go get the advice, help, counsel you need. Pray together. Make it a priority, and don't give up! Trust that this time is work that is good & necessary. Just think--if your situation is really bad right now, it can only IMPROVE!! Thanks for trusting me with your gunk. I'm praying for you...a bunch of you...you know who you are!

Good Night!

You know who my hero is tonight? Any mother who went to bed an hour ago or earlier. I'm off to do that, myself. No time to blog this evening--stayed late at a Celebrate Calm seminar I set up at our church--and then had a quick follow-up after tucking my almost-asleep kids in. Now, it's my turn, Sisters!! I'm going to B-E-D and sleeping till I want to rise in the morning. Whee Whoo!

Source Heroes

How do I follow my post about my mom with Heroes Day Two?

I don't want this to be 30 days of a seeming competition (who was listed first, who's more of a hero to me than someone else). There's too much politicking in my family life. I'd rather hold a discussion about heroism.

AND, I've posted here about my conviction to teach my children the Hebrews 11 Heroes of our faith. I think I will stray from the personal for a couple days, & stick with the biblical.

Tomorrow: Abraham.

Heroes: Day 1/30...my mom

I turned 39 years old today. Nothing felt terribly different for me, though I anticipate being a little freaked out by next year's more momentous celebration. When I look in the mirror I still see myself as I perceive myself. In other words, nothing is catching me too off guard, yet. Well, there are the expanding hips & thickening trunks my legs have become since I began this third pregnancy, but then, my bathroom mirror isn't full length, so I can ignore that situation for now...for the sake of the baby...right? Running a marathon by my 40th birthday still isn't off the table, people! I'll have seven months from Baby's Birth to my 40th!!

But I signed up for this EveryDayForAMonth blog challenge, again. You may recall I failed to follow through in March--I was on a Lenten fast at the time, and felt that maybe my daily blogging was starting to replace Facebook. Like switching from tobacco to cloves, and saying you're no longer a smoker, right?

The National Blog Posting Month category for June is, "Who Are Your Heroes?" You know what kills me? The images options they posted for "heroes."

and

Really? Is either of these men a...hero? A comedian, sure! But...a hero?

OK, Red Skelton was one funny, funny guy, no doubt! But does he qualify for "hero" status? Well, he suffered two major losses in his life, as a suicide survivor, and father to a young son who died of Leukemia...and, he stood up for Christian faith in discussion of our Pledge of Allegiance...so, sure! Many would and should mark him as a hero!

For me, though, on this anniversary of my birth, I have to count, first, my mom.


Mother's Day, 1998; my bridal shower, 1995

When I was born, mom was younger than the average mother--and she admits, unprepared to take on the responsibility of raising a child! But, in a beautiful note to me this year, she wrote that the moment she met me, she "fell in love." I have felt that love from my mother every day of my life. Even when I was sixteen and swearing at her through gritted teeth and a slammed fist on the dining room table, my mom loved me. Even when I was venturing down a path in my early 20's that made her rightly fearful, she loved me. Even now, in my last year of the 30-somethings, as necessity keeps us too distant from each other, I know my mother's love will always remain true for me--and now, for my children, as well. She prays for me every night--for my role as wife, for my family's well-being, and for each of my children, and my husband. She knows just what to ask when she calls for a family update. She always seems to come through for me in the most important moments (Mom was present at the births of my two children, and I hope we have the opportunity to share the birth of this third babe when the time comes, as well. She's also been available to help me move on a half-dozen occasions, even when my moving was deeply painful for her).


I graduated from Community College, 1995; Tom got his Master's degree, 2004

I miss my mom constantly--not just because I could use the parental relief of a nearby grandmother, nor because of the way she fully invests herself into my children's value as maturing human beings, but because of that love I feel from her which is so tangible it reminds me instantly of a very bad day when I was repulsively ill in high school. Sounds odd, I know--but you know when you are SO sick that you are whining for your mom? There is a clear day in my mind when I was as sick as I have ever been--and that little bucket beside my bed was there because my mom was home. And the blankets that engulfed my feverish body were tucked in place by my mom. The water that was on the ready had been carried up by her loving hands.

Sure, sure, every mom tends to her child when illness hits, but you see, my mom was patiently available when I needed her. Not only on that miserable day when my mouth was dry & I thought I'd die from stomach pain! I know that right now, at nearly-midnight, if I were in dire straits and really needed Mom, I could wake her with a phone call (though, frankly, I doubt she's sleeping at this moment--I inherited her night owl activity...), and weep my worries into the phone without feeling I'd inconvenienced her in the least.



Still, she draws respectable boundaries. The balance is artful!

In the past year or two Mom's had some preoccupations that have kept physical distance between us which saddens me--but I know this is a season, and it will pass, and I am a woman who doesn't need my hand to be held any more. It's just that when your mom is so dear to your heart, you want to keep her close.


The day Mom first found out she was going to become a grandmother, 2002; Mother's Day, 2008

Why is she my hero, and not just a really good mom? Well, she suffered through a difficult marriage and a painful divorce but practiced impeccable self-control in never negatively influencing my sister's and my opinion of our father. She always allowed us to have a unique relationship with him without her personal opinions coming down heavily on our times with him. This was an incredible gift! We were able to come to our own conclusions about Dad, and develop our own relationships with him over time. She asked about him--how was he--and had he called--and left it at that. She never looked for an opening to complain.

In fact, my mom just isn't a complainer...at all! There are three lessons she repeated to us growing up--Be Creative, Take Risks, Be Responsible. But, those didn't weight heavily on me, because she came from a family who demonstrated these characteristics, and my mom lives this way, herself. I knew this was a way that could be followed. I saw that this approach led to a Good Life. Mom is a cautious optimist, and even when she might question a decision I'm making, she treads into the realm of critique sensitively.


Planned my grandparents' 50th anniversary surprise, 1993; flew out to Vegas to support me as Mrs. Connecticut-America, 1998

Sure, we've had some ticked-off moments--doesn't every mother/daughter team clash? But, Mom has demonstrated LOVE. Please don't think this is trite. I think authentic, real, genuine love is not as easy to find in this world as we might all like to believe. What does it look like? All that I've described about my mom. She is concerned when there is cause, but takes her worries to the Lord. She gets mad at me if she thinks I'm behaving irrationally, but forgives me if I've wronged her. Love is an under-running river with ebbs and flows, but it never stops moving forward. This river cannot turn back on itself, but is alive, and changes between noisy rapids and gentle bubbling. This is my mom's love. Beneath the surface, it is always moving...forward!


20 years ago; 10 years ago: SURPRISE!

So, today, on my birthday, I recognize my mom, who spent three years making difficult single-parenting decisions before finding love again. She chooses to care for herself beautifully (exercising, staying in shape, looking ten years younger than her age, which I refuse to reveal to you)--but not to the neglect of the rest of her family, whom she loves with the steadiness of a strong, beautiful river.


Mom & George's wedding day; and their 25th anniversary, last summer

Thank you, Mom, for choosing to mother me! I love you.


Mom with my sister, Anja, and me. Summer, 2008


Tending to my grandmother after grandma's aneurysm, circa 1999


Dancing with Grandpa, New Year's Eve, 2005

Where our end became a new beginning...

We thought we were done raising frogs, today, when we brought a singleton (last with a slight tail) back to his originating pond...



...we brought a neighborhood friend, who was with us on our first capture. It wasn't until we were well along a muddy path that I realized how poorly shod she & my daughter were for the adventure:



Teagan got to be our "releaser" today. She was delicate & helped me find a little grassy area right next to the puddle to free the frogger.



What I had not anticipated, however, was that we'd go home with a new project all together!



We found puddles and puddles and puddles of eggs!

Whoa. Now a chance to observe from the very beginning. Fan-tas-tic!! We carried home a very small sample (might produce ~the same number of tadpoles we just raised). I am hoping they are the same breed. Can you look closely to see those dividing cells!?!? Whoa!

Tads to Froglets!!

We started out with two buckets--one full of puddle water & one full of tadpoles, and converted a toy drawer into an aquarium.


I found so much online information about raising tadpoles--and more than three sites recommended boiling lettuce to feed the little guys. Ours loved it!



They also seemed to like eating algae they found on the edges of our tank.



I wrote into Logan's notebook that we'd counted 24 little tads! Added a couple rocks, and started our tragic 8-day journey that ended with a Mother's Day discovery of belly-up polliwogs.



Would we do it again? I was sad, and depressed, so I sought expert advice from naturalists who encouraged me to try again--our tads might have had a better chance of survival in our aquarium than they could have had in a puddle that is dependent on rainfall to last through their metamorphosis.



So, we returned to the shrinking puddle--and scooped up more.



Then went back, again, with friends, so they could join us in the adventure.



You'll find us down at the river at least once a week--and we often get really, really wet!



Our second batch was 14. ALL fourteen survived & turned to froglets, with the aid of direct sunlight, store-bought tadpole pellets, a live plant in the water and a bubbler to provide them with enough oxygen.



YAY!!



Now that we have supplies, we can tackle this project even better next year. Here's our photojournalistic report of the return to the pond (five other families took on this project with us--or, 5 adults and 13 kids from May 1 to May 29. COOL!):



Here are two videos from the beginning and end of the frog-rearing process:
Video One--revealing some of our family dialogue. Lovely. But, pay no attention to the man behind the curtain! Just watch the tads:

Untitled from lisandrea on Vimeo.

Video Two--Teagan (age 3) sweetly narrates a little description of what we see in the water just hours before our first release:

Froglets from lisandrea on Vimeo.

When he's motivated...!

Age 6

Five F-16s, engaging radar during night flight. Four have their landing gear down, frontrunner is lowering his.

Don't like it? Just skip it!

Teagan crawled in first. She does every morning. She complained of being cold, and curled up to steal my heat. I am a giver--it's fine with me!

Logan joined about 20 minutes later. He also had that wonderful morning warmth, so we all bundled up under my comforter, and I asked them how they slept. Had they had any dreams?

Teagan's answer to me:

"Yes, I had a dream about a snake--but I didn't like that dream, so I skipped it."

Skipped it? What a marvelous idea! She went on:

"The snake was trying to give me poison, but I didn't like that, so I just opened my eyes up, thought of another dream and closed my eyes again."

That is some amazing subconscious control! My husband thought the story hysterical when I recalled it to him. Here's why I appreciate it so much--it's pure Teagan.

My water broke on the morning of her birth just seconds after my mom sneezed, waking us both. It was a weird experience. Intense contractions began immediately, and we got our act together and darted for the midwifery center. Teagan was born 35 minutes later because she was ready whether we were or not! She was about 2 weeks ahead of our "due date," but she seemed to be born to nurse, and just had to kick her way out ASAP, because she was hungry!

When she was apart from me very briefly in the nursery, awaiting the pediatrician's little physical, my girl let out some serious hollering! I called to her, through the glass, "You go, Teagan! Tell them you were just born and you do NOT like being apart from your mother! Advocate for yourself, little one!"

I had only known her for a few hours, but I saw her as a righteous protestor, and advocate for herself. This is true of her today. Even in her dreams she determines if she does not like the direction something is going, and she chooses a different path.

May this determination and discernment be hers for a lifetime. Wow. What an amazing little bird!


Here, Teagan writes on one of four homemade Mother's Day collage cards--she is working on writing all the letters of her name, and insisted on drawing a frame around them, too. The card she drew for me has her first portrait--of MOM! ;-) It's adorable.