The One With the Slippers

babytiaWhen Tia was nine days old, I took her to have pictures made. I wanted to go all out on her newborn pictures, so I naturally went to Picture People and paid $10 for 150 pictures of the exact same terrible shot. (I paid an extra 10 bucks to get 150 of a second shot because I felt like splurging.)

In my defense, digital pictures were just now beginning to take off. Lee and I had only gotten our first digital camera less than a year earlier. I still preferred a camera with actual film because…I don’t know why. Because change is hard? And for all you young ‘uns reading this blog who don’t remember life without digital images, this is how fast technology can change the world. I also had a flip phone back then that I could never remember to keep charged and I didn’t text because tapping out the alphabet was a torture greater than trying to nurse an infant in a crowded room.

In short, I am old enough to remember the good old days.

I have digressed mightily, though. This post isn’t about technology, nor is it about the terrible pictures I got at Picture People. This post is about motherhood, obviously.

Back in those days (seven and a half years ago…feels like a lifetime), I did not yet have a minivan, I didn’t blog and I only had one and a half kids. An infant only counts as half, that’s how those census people are able to determine that the average American household has 2.5 children. Infants. They aren’t full people until they can support their own body weight.

Sometimes I think back to those early days with little littles and I laugh at how difficult it all felt. Just getting up and out of the house felt like a momentous task each and every morning, and indeed it was. Try getting half a person ready while a two year old (who should really count as three people if we’re being honest) terrorizes the house. Those days were hard. They were really hard.

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Our lovely, off-centered picture. I still have about 120 of these left so if anyone wants one, just let me know…

The morning I took Tia and Sloan to Picture People for those awesome of awesome portraits, I did it all on my own. Lee was out of town (because his company had impeccable timing and adored sending him away for a week and a half every time I had a baby) and I was on my own. I got up extra early that morning. Actually, if I remember correctly, I just didn’t go back to bed after the 4 am feeding. I took a shower, fixed my hair, put on make up (make up!), dressed two small children (one and a half, whatever…), changed diapers, fed said children breakfast, got them bundled up (February in St. Louis is cold in an evil, diabolical sort of way) and got out the door.

As I walked into the mall – the mall! – for our 9:00 appointment, I strolled confidently up to my mom. I had the car seat popped securely in the stroller and Sloan held tight to the side. I was rocking that motherhood gig. I felt like shouting LOOK AT ME, EVERYONE! SEE ALL MY AWESOME! BEHOLD, COME GAZE UP MY TOGETHERNESS AND MARVEL AT HOW EASY I MAKE THIS LOOK! I DID THIS ALL ON MY OWN! LOOK AT HOW GREAT I AM!

“You made it!” Mom cried. As if there was any doubt.

“Yep, and I got everything done! Look, I even got a shower!”

We stepped onto the escalator and as we did, I tripped slightly so I looked down to catch my balance.

I was still wearing my slippers. These were not slippers that looked like shoes, either. These were slippers that looked like slippers. I looked back up at my mom and she threw her head back and laughed.

“Well, if that’s all you forgot, you did okay,” she said with a grin.

Motherhood is exhausting and every season of child-rearing brings a new set of crazy. Sometimes the online world can make it seem like we all have it together. We’re coiffed and showered. Our clothes are clean and our children are picture perfect. The world online can look like sunshine and rainbows, and for the exhausted Mama getting up at 4 am so she can get out of the house by 8:30, it can feel like the entire world has it more together than you.

Just don’t forget that we’re all wearing slippers in some way, shape or form. Raising kids isn’t about having it all together, or looking put together, so don’t give into the pressure, because honestly?

Slippers are so very, very comfortable.

I Said “A Boom Chicka Boom…”

This post has nothing to do with that title – I have just really wanted to title a post that for a long time now…

Actually, this post really has to do with nothing at all.  You’re ripe with excitement to read further aren’t you? 

Maybe I should do an entire post of one liners.

So there was this blogger who walked into a bar…

Nah.

We’re T – four days and counting until the big trip.  I’ve had some freak out moments in the last few days, the biggest being when I realized that we might have to cut Hallstatt out of the itinerary.  My Hallstatt.  My preciousssssss

I fretted and fraught (fraught?) and worried and moped.  But it was a reality that we had planned way more than we could probably feasibly accomplish in our short time over there.  And I really didn’t want to cut out Tuscany.  Something had to go.  Until…wait a minute.  Maybe not.

What it boiled down to is this: We need to be flexible.  We I need to be willing to cut out Hallstatt if it becomes apparent that there is just no way we’re going to make it all the way there and still have time to book it down to Tuscany.  And so I still have hope, my friends.  You see, the goal is to try and stay off of the AutoBahn (and Autostrada) as much as possible.  We want to explore and get the flavor of the land.  We want to round a curve and be looking down at a village nestled in the mountains.  This means that it will take longer to travel.  But it also means we’re going to have an adventure.

And if we miss Hallstatt, we’ll just have to go back, right?  Deal!

Moving on…

See?  More one liners.  There is always room for one liners.

Too bad these aren’t the funny kind of one liners.

They’re kind of boring actually…

Ah well.

Sloan woke up with a low grade fever tonight.  I gave him some Tylenol and piled him back in bed where I hope he’ll wake up fever free for school tomorrow…because I’m that mom.  If you’re not dying, you’re going, kiddo. 

We’ll see. 

We will also be buying Emergen-C in bulk tomorrow.  And Zinc.  And Echinacea.  I will not come down with a fever on my dream vacation.  Oh, and to our parents who are splitting kid duty for the ten days while we are away: I’m so, so sorry.  Here’s to hoping whatever Sloan has doesn’t spread.  Or maybe he doesn’t have anything.  Here’s to hoping that.

Speaking of Sloan – he and I had a duke it out, we-might-not-make-it homework session tonight.  I won.  Barely.  We’re having this minor issue with child #1 in that every.single.time we bring him to the table to do homework, he brings along a massive chip on his shoulder.  He is heaping with sass these days and it’s never more apparent than when he is under educational duress.  It is especially evident when it comes time to do russian homework. Ay-yay-yay.

When it was all said and done and that which could have been completed in twenty minutes was finally finished after an hour of sweat and tears (no blood, thankfully) I felt defeated and dejected.  Now that I know he is running a low grade fever I feel a little better, but the truth is – homework is often painful.

But, just before bed, Sloan grabbed my hand and led me back to our bedroom and sat me down on the bed.  “We need to have a little talk,” he said.

“I had a bad attitude tonight and I was just angry and upset and sometimes russian is really hard and I feel like I can’t do it.  But I didn’t act right.  I wasn’t ‘quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry’ and I’m sorry.  Will you forgive me?”

He did that on his own.  Without any prompting.

My heart is still a little gooey.  Of course I was quick to offer my forgiveness and apologize for my lack of patience.  Amends were made and we agreed to work as a team to make homework more fun.  It is moments like those that I truly, truly love being a parent.  Sure it’s cool when they hit a home run or draw you a picture, but when they exhibit a heart attitude that you have worked so hard to help shape and mold?  That is when parenting is most rewarding.  Just when I felt like I was the worst mom ever and totally incapable of successfully parenting that boy, he reminded me that his sweet little heart is full of gold nuggets just waiting to be dug up and harvested.

Do you harvest gold?  Did I just mix metaphors?

So yes…parenting is wicked hard.  But I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

I wouldn’t even trade it for Hallstatt, Austria.

I Said “A booma ticka rocka ticka rocka ticka boom!”

The End.

Post edit: Sloan woke up fever free this morning and he happily skipped to school (well, happily skipped onto the school bus anyway).  Whoop!

This I Pray

With first grade in full swing, I’ve found myself impressed this year more than ever to be bathing my children in prayer.  This is something that I’ve always known was important, but if I’m being honest I’d confess that I haven’t been faithful in daily lifting them up.  But for some reason, this year, I can’t really brush aside or ignore the need to send my son out under the protection of God who is able to keep Sloan in ways that I cannot.

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 I pray that Sloan is a light among his peers.  I pray that he is a bold leader.  I pray that he is an encourager to others and a helper to his teacher. 

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 I pray that Sloan has fun.  I pray that he laughs often, learns much and finds joy in each and every day. 

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I pray that Sloan will be strong in the Lord and that he will be filled with wisdom as he grows into a young man of stature.

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I pray that waking up in the morning gets less painful every day.

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I pray that his relationship with his brother and sister doesn’t suffer despite the fact that he will be absent seven hours a day.  In fact, I hope that the separation makes them appreciate each other more.

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I pray that he never forgets how deeply he is loved and that he can always seek refuge in our home.

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Most of all I pray

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that he always remembers

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he’s under the watchful eye and faithful protection of a God who never slumbers. (Psalm 121)

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I pray that this first grader has the best first grade year and makes memories to last a lifetime.

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Lemonade for Haiti

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“Mom! Can I clean the bathroom?”

“Uh…sure,” I reply, trying to keep my jaw from dropping to the floor.

“Will you pay me a dollar?”

Ah yes.  The catch.

“Why should I pay you a dollar?” I ask.  “The bathroom is dirty because you made it dirty.  Don’t you think you should clean it up for free?”

“But I want to raise money to send to children in Haiti!”

“Oh.  Well, I guess you can have a dollar then.”

“Great!  After that I’m going to go around the neighborhood and knock on people’s doors and see if I can walk their dogs to earn money for Haiti.  I want to get $111.00.”

I start calculating how many miles he’s going to have to walk to come up with that money. It doesn’t seem entirely realistic.  “Hey bud,” I call to my laboring son.  “Come here – I have an idea.”

And thus was birthed the idea for the lemonade stand for Haiti.

I haven’t put on a lemonade stand since I was a kid myself.  And it ended…poorly.  I was eleven-ish and we lived in a brand new St. Louis subdivision.  The neighbors across the street joined me and together we made up lemonade and situated ourselves on the street in front of some new construction.  We figured the builders would like to come buy our lemonade.

But they didn’t.  Despite our shrills screeches for LEMONAAAAAAAADE!!!!

So we put our heads together and came up with a solution to make more money.  My neighbor ran over to her house and raided her parents garage refridgerater.  She came out moments later dragging a cooler filled with…beer.

We commenced to shouting: LEMONAAAAADE…BEEEEEER!

And lo and behold, the builders flocked to us.  We sold several cans of beer and were racking in the dough when her dad came tearing acorss the yard.  The construction workers scattered.

“What are you doing?” he stammered.

“We’re selling lemonade and beer,” we said proudly.  “We’re making a lot of money.”

“Girls!” he cried.  “This is illegal.  You can’t sell beer.”

And that was the last time I worked a lemonade stand.

Despite the popularity of the beer, I refrained from suggesting to Sloan the illegal selling of alcohol.  Instead we kept it innocent – lemonade and chocolate chip cookies.  I also did the smart thing and put out the word on Facebook and Twitter.  Thank you to the sweet friends who came out and supported my tender hearted sons’ dream.  You helped him reach his goal and more. 

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 The neighbor kids joined us in flagging down passing cars.  Unfortunately there was a competing stand down the road, but that didn’t hamper the spirits of the kids.  They waved, they jumped and flapped their arms like chickens, all the while screeching LEEEEEMONADE! 

And people, when they discovered that we were accepting donations for this organization, were extremely generous, paying five, ten and in one case forty, dollars for a glass of lemonade and a freshly baked cookie. 

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 I was humbled as I watched Sloan work so hard to earn money.  Earlier that weekend, I had taken him to Target to use a gift card he got for his birthday.  He had his wallet with him and in his wallet was $20.  His gift card had $15 on it.  He saw several toys that he wanted that were more than $15.  I never said a word to him, I wanted to see how he would respond.

He refused to spend that $20.  “That’s the money for Haiti,” he told me.  And he picked out a smaller toy and a pack of gum instead.  Where did this child of mine come from?  It’s humbling to me.  There is often an ugliness in my heart that crops up when the need to give presents itself.  I get fearful that by giving away my money I may potentially not have what I need (or want) somewhere down the road.  So to see my seven year old give with reckless abandon, not caring about what he might be sacrificing, I was floored.

And honored.  Honored to be his mom.  Ashamed of my own ugliness.  Excited to help him work to earn $111.00. 

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Who wouldn’t want to buy a glass of lemonade from a face like this?

We were out there about an hour and a half before the sky started to fall.  As the rain fell, we grabbed our stuff and rushed home where we counted our money.  $120.  He reached his goal.

“Oh wait!” Sloan cried as we sat on the floor with the money.  He rushed to his wallet and grabbed the money out of it.  “I want to put this in.”

Lee and I looked at each other and back at Sloan, his big blue eyes so sweet and big.  “You know what, buddy,” Lee said.  “Why don’t you keep it.”

We went on to explain how God blesses a cheerful giver and we thought that Sloan deserved to keep the money he had already earned as a blessing for his heart.

“Well, can I put some of it in for the children in Haiti?” Sloan asked.

“You can put all of it in, if you really want to,” Lee said.  “But if you want to keep it, you have our permission.”

He thought about it for a minute and took out five dollars.  “I want to give some of it to Haiti,” he said.

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And then together as a family, we prayed a blessing over this jar of money – and over a certain seven year old who taught me quite a bit in the span of one day.

Blessings.

Seven

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Tomorrow morning, July 10, at 6:21 am will mark seven years since I first became a mother.  It is hard to express in words exactly how proud I am of this child and the young man he is growing into. 

He is tenderhearted and caring. 

He is funny and expressive. 

 He is smart and thoughtful. 

He is spunky and outgoing. 

He is quick to anger (we’re working on this) but also quick to ask for forgiveness. 

He aches when he knows he’s hurt somone’s feelings and will swiftly work to make things right.

He is also quick to offer forgiveness.

He’s loyal and will be a friend for life.

He is a remarkable little boy who grew from a brute of a baby (9 lbs 3oz – no drugs…Oy):

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Into a beast of a toddler:

Sloan 1 yr

Into an adorable preschooler:

Sloan 3yrs

Into the handsome little boy he is today:

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He’s athletic, able to smack a baseball and golfball with the savvy of someone twice his age.

He can speak and read in two languages.  This blows my mind.

He harbors a minor obssession with Star Wars and can rattle off a web of details that I find rather shocking.  It’s terribly adorable to hear him school his brother and sister on the ins and out of the Jedi Order.

Sloan is accutely aware of the suffering of others and desperately wants to help.  Currently he is raising money for Haiti and he is passionate about earning enough to help the kids there who are suffering.

Sloan prays with a boldness that I admire and love.  Listening to him pray is like being in a tent revival.  He brings the fire in his prayers and it’s hard not to jump up and shout “Halleljah!” 

In seven years, Sloan has taught me so many things.  He’s taught me to love people, to smile more, to forgive others swiftly, to trust in the Lord’s protection without question, to take a deep breath before speaking, to pray passionately, to care for others, and so much more…

But mostly, he’s taught me that I have the capability to love far more deeply and powerfully than I ever thought possible.  I didn’t know I could feel such a depth of emotion for one tiny person until Sloan came along.  He is more than I could have ever asked or imagined in a son and I am abundantly grateful to be called his mom.

Happy Birthday, Sloan.

Take me out to the ball game

Pretend that these pictures are from Sloan’s first game of the season.  Let’s pretend that this wasn’t the first time I actually remembered to bring my camera with the memory card in it.  Let’s pretend that I’m much more organized than that and that I would never actually forget to put the memory card in my camera until the season was half over.

Nope not me.  I would never do that.  Enjoy photos from Sloan’s, ahem, first ball game.

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Sloan is the only player on his team with a groupie.  We can’t decide if we should change Landon’s nickname from Bubba to Mini-Sloan because he wants nothing more than to be exactly like his big brother.  This means that whenever he can get his hands on Sloan’s uniform, he wants it on. 

It may possibly be the cutest thing I’ve ever seen…

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Play Ball!

Sloan-isms

My boy (who’s almost SIX) has had a few great one liners lately. Enjoy the deep thoughts of Sloan Stuart:

Sloan: “Hey mom – you know what I’m the awesomest at?”
Me: “What?”
Sloan: “Oh, just about everything.”
Me: “You’re modest too.”
Sloan: “Yeah…Mom, what’s modest?”

One morning, after he crawled in bed with us at the crack of dawn, he started rubbing my face.
Sloan: “Mom, do you have sunscream on?”
Me: “No.”
Sloan: “Why is your skin so lotiony then?”
Me: “I put lotion on my face before I went to sleep.”
Sloan: “Oh. Is that to help you not look so old.”
I had no comment…

When I called about 5 days into my trip, I spoke with Sloan who is the only child who apparently missed me while I was gone…
Sloan: “Mom, where are you?”
Me: “I’m in South Caicos.”
Sloan: “What are you doing in South Caicos?”
Me: “I’m just looking around.”
Sloan: “Okay, um…this is getting a little weird. When are you coming home?”

After I returned home, I enjoyed some sweet snuggles with my oldest. As we cuddled up he gave me a kiss on the cheek.
Sloan: “Mom, I missed you so much.”
Me: “I missed you too, buddy.”
Sloan: “You know mom – I always loved you. Like, always…”

And finally – A couple of weeks ago as I was folding laundry, Sloan pulled out one of my bras and held it up.
Sloan: “Mom – when I grow up and turn into a girl, will I wear a nest holder like this?” (he still calls the female chest a nest – at what age do you think I should correct him? Never? Oh good, that’s what I was thinking...)
Me: “Honey, you’ll always be a boy – you will never be a girl.
Sloan: dropping my bra and clapping his hands together as though they were dirty – “Oh good, because that does not look comfortable.”

I seriously don’t know where he comes up with some of this stuff…

To My Darling Husband

You need to come home. Look what’s happening to your son…

The Plague is Upon Us!

Good grief. We were back at the pediatrician yesterday, this time for Landon. That’s 80 bucks in co-pays in just five days! Poor little guy has a terrible cold. Of course, yesterday when I took him, he was just congested but his lungs were fine. Today his nose seems a little better, but he has the most awful sounding cough. We are just praying that this clears up soon and doesn’t worsen into the dreaded RSV. The only advice the dr. had for us at this point was to sit in a steamy bathroom with him, which I did for about 40 minutes at 3:00 this morning. I guess it helped a little but he still seems pretty miserable. As long as his breathing remains regulated and his color stays pink we should be okay. So far so good in those areas…
I’m learning a lot right now about God’s perfect will and His Providence in our lives. I’m reading a great book called With God in Russia about a priest who was falsely imprisoned in the Soviet Union during World War II. He was an American priest who went over there to share God’s love with the Russians, but was ultimately accused of espionage. He spent 15 years in a Siberian labor camp before he was finally released and sent back to the United States. His attitude and recollections toward that time are amazing and convicting. But one thing he says over and over is that he relied on the knowledge that God had a purpose and a plan and that he was in that place for a reason and that reason was to bring glory to God. Even when he spent an entire year in solitary confinement, he looked for every opportunity to glorify God and spent hours a day in prayer and meditation. In light of that, my momentary trials seem pale. I am trying to spend more time today thinking about how I can glorify God in this situation and less about how I can feel sorry for myself and how tired I am. It’s 8:43 right now and so far I’ve had a pretty good attitude. We’ll see how I do at 5:00. That’s the true test! Anyway, that’s me this morning…