Termi-NATE-or

I used to think all kids were basically the same. Then I met Nate.

When he was a year old he climbed into the oven and pulled the stove down on himself. It wasn't hot but then again he was too smart to go near a hot oven. Then when he was 2 he pulled an electric radiator down on his foot. Again, it wasn't hot but it did cut his foot wide open. I butterfly stitched it and it healed but I was beginning to think God had picked the wrong person to raise this lightning-fast, super-active toddler. From the very beginning, Nate saw it as his duty to question and challenge his daddy's and my authority. It's hard to put into words exactly how exhausting and exasperating it was to have every "no" from us met with a tantrum. Hetee and I half joked that if we could survive Nate, we could get through anything.

When Nate wasn't getting into trouble he was giving things away. He still does. Just recently, at church, we talked to a little boy whose shirt was torn. I pointed the fact out to Nate and reminded him that we had so much to be thankful for. Nate said, "I wish I could give him one of my shirts". I remembered that I had an extra one in my backpack but that it was his favorite Dr. Seuss shirt. I told him and he asked me to give it to the boy. Nate then took some shorts out and gave them to the boy as well. It didn't matter to him that the children sitting nearby were gawking and making fun of him. He was strong-willed enough to do what he felt was right.

At that moment I saw, through the tears welling up in my eyes, that my son was turning into the little man I so wanted him to be, in spite of my fears that I was inadequate as a parent. I thanked God that Nate was a strong child and once again, right there on the church steps I asked for wisdom and strength to raise him to be a man of God. Some months ago a friend told me that God knew what He was doing when He gave Nate to me. Now I was beginning to understand.

Nate still has his moments. The other day he slipped away from Hetee as he was standing in line to pay the phone bill. Rather than risking losing his place in line, Hetee asked a lady from our church who happened to be nearby to go and check on Nate. After about 15 minutes with no news from either of them, Hetee paid the bill and made his way outside. There, standing next to our car was the lady (with a mortified expression on her face) and standing on the roof of the car yelling-- was, you guessed it, Nate! Apparently Nate was playing outside the building and when the lady, whom he didn't recognize, tried to take him back inside, he went to our car--the only thing that was familiar and climbed on top. No doubt a plan that made perfect sense to a 4-year-old.

These past few weeks we've noticed that Nate has been more willing to listen to reason and obey than ever before. It's such a relief to see a shimmer of light at the end of our long, dark "toddler tunnel". We know that God is working and that He is in control. We've also learned not to criticize our son or blame ourselves for the way he is. He's a strong boy, an awesome kid and he's our gift from God!

Before and After

Someone mentioned the other day that they were amazed at how I had changed so much in the 4 years since becoming a mother. That comment really got me to thinking about how my life (habits, priorities, etc.) has changed since becoming mommy to my 4-year-old, 2-year-old and 2-month-old children. Mentally I began to compare my life now to what it was like back in my baby-less days. I just had to smile.

When choosing clothes:
Before kids--Knee-length, black leather jacket or 2-piece swimsuit
After kids:--a shirt that's not too tight that my breast pad circles show through. (A "favorite" lately is my "Don't be a chicken, donate blood" T-shirt in XXL. )

Book of choice:
Before kids--any kind of fiction thriller
After kids--Myrtle the Turtle

Make-up:
Before kids-- Wake up and make-up
After kids--I don't want to wake up. Where is my make-up?

Favorite passtime:
Before kids--cooking and baking
After kids--finding ways to get out of cooking and baking

Re-energizing:
Before kids--A looooong soak in a bubble bath with a mug of coffee, my Bible and candles everywhere.
After kids--A quick glass of apple juice and spirulina. I still do the bubble bath from time to time but it's not as long as before for 2 reasons: I get so sleepy that I have to get out or risk dying an embarassing death. Or it's just not as good as it used to be due to the little people pounding on the door because they "have to tell me something".

In my purse:
Before kids--make-up, money
After kids--diapers, less money

Now, I'm sure you've figured out by now that I've approached this "before and after" comparison of my life in a tongue-in-cheek manner. My children bring me exceptional joy in spite of the many... er, adjustments I have had to make in order to make all our lives a little smoother. One important lesson I have learned is, "If you can't lick 'em, join 'em". I can't count the times I've set out to have a nice, quiet bubble bath only to have Nate and Abi join me. (They helped me rediscover the wonder of bubble beards.) And Myrtle the Turtle has become one of my favorite stories (hey, there is a lesson to be learned there). I have a feeling these "baby days" will be over before I know it and I'll once again be able to don my leather jacket--without fear of getting peanut butter smudges on it.

The way I see it...

Your Linguistic Profile:

60% General American English

15% Dixie

15% Yankee

5% Upper Midwestern

0% Midwestern

What Kind of American English Do You Speak?

More than bobby

Abi and her bobby are inseparable. From what I can remember, it all started when she was about a year old. The then new, pink blanket quickly became a favorite and although I tried many times to get her to leave it on her bed, she insisted on dragging it around the house...and church and, to my great chagrin, the market.

Washing bobby was always a challenge. I had to wait until she was occupied with something, quickly snatch it and throw it into the washer and press the "quick wash" button. Twenty-seven minutes. That was about as long as she could go without literally panicking.

One day I was caught in the act. She came to me, eyes full of excitement to tell me something wonderful, no doubt. Then she saw it. Bobby was swishing around in bubbles behind the glass door of the washing machine. I should mention at this point that Abi didn't particularly like the washing machine or the sounds it made as it washed, spun and pumped water out into our kitchen sink. As the sights and sounds registered, her eyes filled with tears and she gave me a look as if to say I knew I couldn't trust you! I tried to make my voice sound as reassuring as I could as I told her that bobby had gotten so dirty that it needed a bubble bath. She stood in silence, tears threatening to spill. She got close to the door and pressed her little nose up against the glass. With a sigh she asked me if I was sure the water wasn't too hot for bobby. I assured her that it was just right and that bobby was ok.

She stayed there, next to the washing machine in watchful silence until the cycle finished and the lock on the door clicked. I opened the door and we both pulled bobby out together. Daddy ironed it dry and with the traumatic incident behind us Abi and I (and bobby, of course) settled on the sofa for some much-needed cuddling. As I held her in my arms I whispered, "Do you know how much mommy loves you?" She looked up at me and I said, "More than you love bobby". I could see in her eyes that she immediately understood. Then that look was replaced by somewhat of an incredulous one and she said, "No way!"