Since Easter my son has been trying to figure out exactly who Jesus is. For a while he would wake up in the night and want to have theological discussions about the nature of God. I am not at my best at 2:00 in the morning, but since this is important I would try to answer his questions as well as possible. After all, I was saved at his age. Since he has been attending a church sponsored Mother's Morning Out program, they talked about the Easter story. He apparently zoned out during the resurrection part of the story because he argued with me for several months that Jesus died on the cross. Period. End of Story. He was so convincing that I asked his teachers if they had told the whole story. They assured me they had. I'm not sure he still really understands, but he seems to accept the notion that Jesus is still around. He will occasionally, at random moments, ask me if Jesus or God lives in his heart. The other day at lunch we had one of these discussions. "momma, Jesus and God live in my heart." They do? I asked. When did you ask them to live in your heart? "While I was asleep. I saw them." And what did they say? I asked. "Nothing. They just stood there."
Well, I'm not sure what to make of that. He had been having bad dreams a few months ago, so we would pray that Jesus would give him nice dreams. But he was concerned that he couldn't see Jesus. So I had him pray that he would dream about Jesus. So I wonder if he did? It is so hard to tell with him. But he was so serious when he told me, I have a feeling it happened.
Then he asked, "Does God live in heaven?" Yes, God lives in heaven. He thought for a minute. "Then is heaven in my heart?"
Thursday, June 30, 2005
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
Milestones
Yesterday I took down my daughter's crib. I didn't cry, but it was a bittersweet moment. The Crib has been up for a little over four years. The kids are close enough that we didn't have to take it down. E. (my daughter) is almost two and a half. She has been enjoying playing quietly in her brother's room and lying in his bed. So I guessed it was time for the big move. I've been delaying until I could get her a toddler bed, her room is too small for a twin, but I haven't had the funds recently to buy one. So I decided to just put her mattress on the floor. I spent a couple of hours rearranging and child proofing. The results were better than I expected. It is a sweet little girl's room. I took E. in and showed her around. She got a huge giddy grin and kept saying "my rune? my rune?" I said, "Yes, this is your room" She hopped and bounced and touched everything. I left her to play in her space. Because everyone needs their own space.
She took a nap in her new bed, but I had to lay next to her on the floor until she fell asleep. At dinner, she still had the giddy grin. We were chatting amongst ourselves when we noticed that she was trying to say something. She said momma a few times, then nigh-nigh, then fixed, until finally she took a big breath, looked at her daddy and said haltingly, "Momma feexed my nigh-nigh" (nigh-nigh is what she calls beds). She has said four-five word sentences before, but I have never seen her speak with such deliberation. She knew what she wanted to say, and worked until she got it. It was a proud moment. I did almost cry because I did something to make her happy. There is not a whole lot you can do to make a 2 yr old happy outside of cookies. for my husband's blog on this go here(it's the one called momma feexed my nigh nigh).
I am really enjoying the fact that E. talks to me. Her brother didn't start really talking until he was three. He more than made up for that yesterday. My husband gave me a new PS2 game for my birthday. So of course I have been playing. Well, for about 30 minutes yesterday P. (my son) talked non-stop asking me questions about the game. "Are you died? Did he died? Why? Why? Why? Are you done? Can you go somewhere else? Why?" etc. I finally quit playing because I couldn't handle all the questions.
Today he was playing his favorite game, Spyro the Dragon(the very first one). He is quite content to play the same level multiple times, and his game is definitely improving. But I got a big kick out of listening to his own personal commentary on the game. He would mutter an occasional "cool" or "I'm coming through"(which he got from another game that his cousin plays) and my personal favorite "I am angry"(as he flames a bad guy).
I learn the most about P. by listening to his conversations with himself. He will sit in his room in the morning and play and sing. I wonder if I will be sitting outside his room in ten years hoping to catch him being himself. I enjoy my children immensely. I really hope that in time they will learn to enjoy me.
She took a nap in her new bed, but I had to lay next to her on the floor until she fell asleep. At dinner, she still had the giddy grin. We were chatting amongst ourselves when we noticed that she was trying to say something. She said momma a few times, then nigh-nigh, then fixed, until finally she took a big breath, looked at her daddy and said haltingly, "Momma feexed my nigh-nigh" (nigh-nigh is what she calls beds). She has said four-five word sentences before, but I have never seen her speak with such deliberation. She knew what she wanted to say, and worked until she got it. It was a proud moment. I did almost cry because I did something to make her happy. There is not a whole lot you can do to make a 2 yr old happy outside of cookies. for my husband's blog on this go here(it's the one called momma feexed my nigh nigh).
I am really enjoying the fact that E. talks to me. Her brother didn't start really talking until he was three. He more than made up for that yesterday. My husband gave me a new PS2 game for my birthday. So of course I have been playing. Well, for about 30 minutes yesterday P. (my son) talked non-stop asking me questions about the game. "Are you died? Did he died? Why? Why? Why? Are you done? Can you go somewhere else? Why?" etc. I finally quit playing because I couldn't handle all the questions.
Today he was playing his favorite game, Spyro the Dragon(the very first one). He is quite content to play the same level multiple times, and his game is definitely improving. But I got a big kick out of listening to his own personal commentary on the game. He would mutter an occasional "cool" or "I'm coming through"(which he got from another game that his cousin plays) and my personal favorite "I am angry"(as he flames a bad guy).
I learn the most about P. by listening to his conversations with himself. He will sit in his room in the morning and play and sing. I wonder if I will be sitting outside his room in ten years hoping to catch him being himself. I enjoy my children immensely. I really hope that in time they will learn to enjoy me.
Tuesday, June 21, 2005
Where does the time go
Wow, it's been a long time since I started this blog. Not too terribly much has happened, but then I started thinking about the small things.
My son managed to break his collarbone, giving us another exciting opportunity to visit the children's ER. I only waited 2 days after it happened to take him. I am such a good mother. (Actually, it happened at my mother's house and she told me he was fine. Why shouldn't I believe my mother?) But he wasn't in much pain, he just couldn't lift his arm up. It only took a couple of weeks to heal.
Thinking about what in my life could be considered an inconvenience, and that I should instead look at as an adventure led to some interesting pathways. I decided that all of motherhood could be placed under consideration. My number one(and no.2, I suppose) inconvenience would be potty training. I think my son may have the world's record for longest time spent potty training. He is a very bright child(and I have the test results to prove it), but the potty dilemma has just about undone us all. I spent the first year of training convinced I was a horrible mother and person. It seems so simple. You just go. I was on the verge of taking video to send to Dr. Phil when we had our tinkle breakthrough. We would spend 2-4 hours(yes, I said hours) in the bathroom. It was not a pleasant let's read books and sing songs kind of time together. It was plain ol' hysterics every time. And he would have to go so bad he would be in pain. For a long time I gave in, I didn't like seeing him that way. So I finally had one of my best brainstorms ever. I paid my sister $50 to get him to tinkle in the potty. She did it. It took 2 days, lots of screaming, and lots of kool-aid. That was last summer. We've had a lot of set backs. The first day of school his teacher sat him on the potty and he went all over the floor. (He was trained to stand) So for months he would not even consider sitting down because he knew he would go on the floor. It hasn't been until the past few weeks that he has decided it is ok to sit. Mostly because my dad sat in the bathroom with him for over an hour one day. But we still have to put on a diaper to do the deed. For a child as smart as he is, I just don't understand. But I finally realized it wasn't me. It's him. Ok, so it was partly me. He didn't really talk until after he turned three and never communicated his discomfort or that he needed to go, so I put off the whole ordeal until he could communicate.
What's the moral of this story. I guess it is that I should find the adventure in potty training now that my daughter(age 2) is interested. She loves the potty. Today she snuck in while her brother was tinkling and flushed. He hates that. She hasn't figured out yet that she can't stand up and go. A few days ago we were outside enjoying the weather and the kids were in their little pool when the boy had to go. His daddy showed him how to go on a tree. I wasn't sure he would do it since he is so very rigid about rules, etc, but he did. So his sister decided she needed to go. So I pulled down her diaper and she stood at the tree with her stomach thrust forward (like her brother does). Fortunately she didn't go, but her father and I had a good laugh.
My son managed to break his collarbone, giving us another exciting opportunity to visit the children's ER. I only waited 2 days after it happened to take him. I am such a good mother. (Actually, it happened at my mother's house and she told me he was fine. Why shouldn't I believe my mother?) But he wasn't in much pain, he just couldn't lift his arm up. It only took a couple of weeks to heal.
Thinking about what in my life could be considered an inconvenience, and that I should instead look at as an adventure led to some interesting pathways. I decided that all of motherhood could be placed under consideration. My number one(and no.2, I suppose) inconvenience would be potty training. I think my son may have the world's record for longest time spent potty training. He is a very bright child(and I have the test results to prove it), but the potty dilemma has just about undone us all. I spent the first year of training convinced I was a horrible mother and person. It seems so simple. You just go. I was on the verge of taking video to send to Dr. Phil when we had our tinkle breakthrough. We would spend 2-4 hours(yes, I said hours) in the bathroom. It was not a pleasant let's read books and sing songs kind of time together. It was plain ol' hysterics every time. And he would have to go so bad he would be in pain. For a long time I gave in, I didn't like seeing him that way. So I finally had one of my best brainstorms ever. I paid my sister $50 to get him to tinkle in the potty. She did it. It took 2 days, lots of screaming, and lots of kool-aid. That was last summer. We've had a lot of set backs. The first day of school his teacher sat him on the potty and he went all over the floor. (He was trained to stand) So for months he would not even consider sitting down because he knew he would go on the floor. It hasn't been until the past few weeks that he has decided it is ok to sit. Mostly because my dad sat in the bathroom with him for over an hour one day. But we still have to put on a diaper to do the deed. For a child as smart as he is, I just don't understand. But I finally realized it wasn't me. It's him. Ok, so it was partly me. He didn't really talk until after he turned three and never communicated his discomfort or that he needed to go, so I put off the whole ordeal until he could communicate.
What's the moral of this story. I guess it is that I should find the adventure in potty training now that my daughter(age 2) is interested. She loves the potty. Today she snuck in while her brother was tinkling and flushed. He hates that. She hasn't figured out yet that she can't stand up and go. A few days ago we were outside enjoying the weather and the kids were in their little pool when the boy had to go. His daddy showed him how to go on a tree. I wasn't sure he would do it since he is so very rigid about rules, etc, but he did. So his sister decided she needed to go. So I pulled down her diaper and she stood at the tree with her stomach thrust forward (like her brother does). Fortunately she didn't go, but her father and I had a good laugh.
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