a picture says a thousand words

Just before surgery

just after waking up from surgery, of course 2nd question was "can I play DS?"

Spiderman came to visit and gave an autograph

worn out and waiting for discharge

leaving the hospital

first trip out of the house means walking to get Slurpees. Just because it isn't the summer we planned or wanted doesn't mean we can't have fun.

war of the words

We had a "family meeting"  or as my husband calls it, a "comin to Jesus meeting" on New Year's eve.  My boys were just non stop attacking each other with their words.  It seems that no amount of hearing me say "friends will come and go but you will be brothers forever, take care of each other" was going to change their attitudes on that particular day. 

Evening came and finally Hubby had had ENOUGH.  So we had a family meeting.  At the end of the meeting, everyone seemed to really be getting it.  We decided as a family that in 2013 our goal will be to use our words wisely, to use our words to help not hurt.  We pulled down the verse over my kitchen sink and read it to the boys. Ephesians 4:29 "Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouth but only that which is helpful for the building up others according to their needs that it may benefit those who listen."  We decided as a family that would be our theme verse for the year.

So our family goal in 2013 is to say words that benefit the person listening to us, words that will build each other up and words that will build up those around us.  We all agreed to THINK before we speak.....

T-is it true

    H-is it helpful

       I-is it inspiring

          N-is it necessary 

K-is it kind

Often words are true but not helpful, inspiring, necessary or kind.  We want to work on those last ones and when we do speak the truth to each, we will speak it in love not anger.

And finally, I saw these two quotes on Facebook and they were just too good to not share....

and this one....

Even though I walk

The Lord has been reminding me of something very simple and very important lately.  After the Newtown shooting, like every parent in America I hugged my kids a little tighter on their first day back at school.  Like everyone else, I prayed a little prayer "God protect them.  Please keep this from OUR school."

On the day that the shooting happened, I was in our school to volunteer.  We were on level 2 lockdown.  It was a very tense and somber mood with the staff.  I talked with a teacher for a few minutes.  We talked about how the principal was going to sent a message to parents, letting them know that our school had a plan.  She looked at me and said, "Of course our school has a plan.  Colorado was the first state to start implementing "shooting plans" after Columbine."

Sad as it is that we need a plan for these horrible and evil events, it was comforting to hear that our school has a plan. Just a couple of days later I was flipping though my Bible.  I didn't have a destination in mind.  I wanted comfort from its pages but couldn't really focus on what I was reading much.  As I flipped through, my eye caught Psalm 23.  It is a passage that I have been able to say since I was 3 years old.  But until that morning, the words had never impressed me in this way. 

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

I will fear no evil for you are with me.

Psalm 23:4

And there it was.  Even in the midst of death, even in the midst of evil, I won't fear the evil around me because God is with me.  Every time that lump starts in my throat, I remind myself that God is with me, that He is with my family, even when we walk through the valleys.  Even when we walk through death.  Even when there is evil around us.  He is still there.  Even if we ever have to live through (or Heaven forbid die through) a mass shooting in a place that should have been safe.  

As I said in my last post, I can't promise safety, but I can promise that God is with us.  I can't promise life won't throw us curve balls, but I can promise that there is no curve ball that will change the character of God.  I can't promise it won't be hard, but I can promise He will be with us during the pain.  

in which I finally acknowledge tragedy and begin to grieve

Friday the news rocked my world.  Friday I tucked my heart into hiding for a few days.  Children killed.  Parents grieving.  I just couldn't wrap my brain around it.  I didn't watch the news.  I didn't listen to the radio.  I stopped looking at Facebook feeds.  I tried so hard to isolate myself from this horrible evil.  I think I felt like if I didn't acknowledge it that it didn't really happen.

A friend of mine reminded me that my reaction was not really unusual.  We just got through another shooting, one in my neighborhood, in my theater.  I don't want to think about yet another shooting.  I don't want to think of children crying and scared.  I don't want to think of the instant lump in my throat when I imagine being a parent there and looking for news of my children.  I want to pretend it never happened.

Yesterday when a friend texted me asking how my oldest was doing with the news of the shooting, I realized that we have to tell our kids.  Other kids my son's age know.  I cannot keep this from them, they will find out whether I tell them or not.  I sat on my bed an leaned into my husband's strong arms.  Tears slid down my cheeks and I realized something.  It wasn't out of fear that I had not told my children.  It wasn't trying to protect them that I hadn't talked about it.  It was simply self preservation.  If I talked about it then it really happened.  So the woman who has told her children about the Ft. Hood shooting (they asked on that one), and about the theater shooting, and about missing, later found murdered, little Jessica Ridgeway couldn't bring herself to tell them about this shooting.

Tomorrow my boys go back to school, the first time since the Sandy Hook shooting.  Tonight they needed to hear.  I read everything I could find online about talking with my kids about this.  Turns out that I already knew it, I just didn't want to do it.  So if you are like me and words swirled incoherently in your brain, here is how we talked to OUR kids.  This is what worked for OUR family.

First we didn't tell them the ages of the children or the number of children killed.  My oldest was already in tears once we said "another shooting in a different state in a school" and the number of dead and the ages was too much information for his tender heart.  Your kid may be different and may need those details to process.

We focused on the heroes.  We talked about the teacher who hid her students and died protecting them.  We talked about the teacher who kept her kids in a bathroom and read to them and told them how much she loved them so that they would hear her loving words more than the scary noises around them.  We talked about the goodness of people even as the evil was going on around them.

We never once reassured them that they are safe.  I know all the papers say to, but I couldn't.  Those children killed on Friday morning all thought they were safe.  I'd rather my kids know that Jesus is with them even when it is scary or unsafe than have them believe they are safe and then God forbid one day have them discover that they are not safe.  So we focused on that God is good even when life isn't.  We focused on the comfort that God says He gives us in times of hurt.  We didn't focus on safety because that is not something I can guarantee.  God's love is something that I can guarantee.  Let's stick with what I KNOW to be true.

We talked about how some people get sick in their head but feel different from everybody else and so they don't get help.  We talked about how just like it is ok for my kids to take medicine for an ear infection, that it is ok for people whose brains are sick to take medicine to help their brains.  Maybe if I can start erasing the stigma of mental illness with my children now while they are young, they will remember it when they are older and will continue to fight it when they grow up.

We talked about what we can do to make this world a better place.  We talked about being nice to the lonely kid in the corner.  We talked about praying for those who hurt us.  We talked about choosing love even when it is hard.  We talked about how you don't know someone else's story.  Maybe they are mean because they are sad and no one listens to them, or they are being hurt, or mom and dad are fighting or divorcing.  You don't know what is going on in someone's life or why they behave the way they do.  You never know when a kind word is enough to change a person's day or maybe his life.

My middle child asked us the name of the guy who killed those people.  I told him if he wants to remember a name he should remember the name Victoria Soto because she was a hero.  I told him I don't want to remember the name of the shooter, I want to remember the names of the people who died as heroes.  Later when it was just me and him he said, "But, Mom, I just want to know his name so I can pray for him to know God.  I want him to know God and serve God.  He really needs God most of all and I just want to pray for him."  My heart melted a hundred times over.  I told him that the man had killed himself after he killed the other people.  I asked if there were anymore questions.  He said no.  I asked him to describe how he was feeling, he said sad and confused.  He was confused at why the guy would kill himself.  I love my precious boys and the tenderness already in their young hearts.

It is never easy to have to take away a piece of my children's innocence.  It is never easy to tell them that evil things happen.  But somehow we do it.  I believe that they need to know they can talk to mom and dad.  I believe that they need to know we will be honest, that we will answer questions, that they can talk about the hard stuff with us.  I also believe that when it comes to big news, they need to hear it from us before they hear it from friends whenever possible.  My beliefs sometimes suck.  Sometimes those beliefs make talking to my children heart wrenching.  Being a parent is hard!

And I'm going to end it off with some links to some really well written things that have either helped me process myself or reminded me that I can indeed talk to my children.

http://traceysolomon.wordpress.com/2012/12/14/elementary-school-shooting-breaks-the-heart-of-moms-parents-everywhere-what-now-i-choose-love/

http://traceysolomon.wordpress.com/2012/12/16/the-monday-after-sandy-hook-in-which-we-confront-our-fear-and-refuse-to-let-evil-win/

http://www.ordinarycourage.com/my-blog/2012/12/14/prayers-for-the-sandy-hook-elementary-school-community.html  (this one also links several websites for talking to kids about violence or tragedy)

http://www.jeffcopublicschools.org/ (if you live in Jefferson County in Colorado, the schools website gives some information about free trauma counseling)

The Role for Caring Adults After a School or Community Tragedy

Aurora Public Schools has a phone number rather than a website if you think your kids need help professional help processing.  The following is taken from the written response APS gave  on their website to the recent tragedy: If you would like assistance connecting with a counselor, please contact staff at your children’s school or Aurora Mental Health at 303-617-2300.

eating humble pie

I'm not a morning person.  Ok, that is the biggest understatement of the century!  I'm a get 2 cups of coffee in my system before I can carry on a conversation type of morning person.  This morning however, though I didn't bound out of bed ready to tackle my day, I did wake up when my alarm clock went off and made some coffee and had some time in the Word.  It was a beautiful and quiet time in my house with me, God, my Bible and a good cup of coffee. 

I recently heard a speaker talking about how sometimes as moms we sometimes have a hard time getting the deep study of the Bible that we had before junior was tugging on our arms all day and night.  Sometimes it gets discouraging.  One of her suggestions was to pick one scripture a day to just really meditate on.  It may not seem like much but in a year's time you will have meditated (chewed on, thought about) 365 scriptures.  I'm wanting to spend more time in the Word this year.  I actually couldn't tear my eyes away this morning and just kept reading and reveling in God's amazing mercy to Israel in Isaiah.  I picked a part in Isaiah 41 to be what I was going to feed my soul throughout the day.

As almost nearly always happens when you get up early to spend time in the Word to start your day (or at  least happens with me), my morning fell apart and my patience was tested!  I woke my boys to get ready for school and they started in pretty good moods.  Then all of a sudden they were picking on each other.  My middle child was missing his belt, a dress code requirement at our school.  In the midst of searching high and low for a belt, I found my voice with my kids getting sharper and sharper.  I was so annoyed at the lack of listening, the fighting and the disrespect both to me and to each other.

I went downstairs in the laundry room hoping to find the belt that I swear I recently saw that came in a bag of hand me downs from a friend.  I angrily threw laundry across the room muttering swear words under my breath.  My kids were going to be late for school all for a stupid belt.  I felt convicted and asked the Lord to give me patience and to help me to use self control with my own attitude.  I did better for a few minutes but then was right back to muttering under my breath and being snarky with my kids.  Finally we find the belt but by this time, mamma was OVER IT!

I hollered at the kids to hurry up and get to the car.  I yelled at them when they didn't get in right away.  I landed on the oldest when for no reason at all he elbowed his little brother while they were getting in the car.  I yelled again when the fighting was keeping them from buckling up.  I yelled that they were yelling at each other and not speaking to each other with kindness.  Then I heard myself.  Here I was yelling at my kids telling them to stop yelling at each other.  Here I was unkindly telling them to talk to each other with kindness.  The irony was not lost on me.

A different verse filled my heart.  "A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger."  Prov 15:1   I was guilty of stirring up anger.  I was just as much, if not more, to blame for the tense way the morning had gone.  I told my kids that we had had a pretty rough start to the morning and I'd like a redo.  Rather than starting our morning fighting, let's start over and start it right, with prayer.  We prayed in the car.  I confessed my sins of not practicing living in the fruits of the Spirit and asked the Lord to forgive me for using harsh words.  I thanked God for His faithfulness to forgive us when we confess.

And when we were done praying, I took another serving of humble pie.  I turned to my kids (we were at a stop light) and asked them to forgive me.  I told them how sorry I was that I had not talked to them with the kindness and grace that I was asking them to show each other.  I apologized for expecting something of them that I wasn't living myself.

The good news about eating humble pie?  Though it definitely took me down a few notches in my pride, I started the morning with the forgiveness of the Lord and then the forgiveness of my children.  The rest of the ride to school was filled with joy and laughter. I couldn't help but laugh when I got home and read my friend's Facebook status, "Fathers, do not embitter your children, or they will become discouraged. Col 3:21" 


Lord, thank you for reminding me that my children are watching me.  Thank you for convicting me and giving me grace when I blow it.  Help me to not embitter or discourage my children.

more antics from my boys

My children's school does a behavioral color chart. 
Green = good behavior, everyone starts every single day on green
Yellow = a warning, redirect your behavior
Blue= more serious warning, note goes home to mom and dad
Red= really naughty!
There is also silver, for when you have gone above and beyond expectations and have spectacular behavior. Green is the norm though.

On Wed before Thanksgiving break Ev came home from school on blue.  His teacher had sent me an email earlier in the day so I was prepared in advance and knew the story.  I was a little curious because one part of the story just didn't sound like him.  Short version was unsafe behavior during a fire drill and being disrespectful to an adult.  So when he came home first my hubby talked to him about it.  After I got home from work I asked him about it. 

We talked it through and I asked him what he had learned from this.  His answer?  "I learned that when Kiewan is in front of you during a fire drill, don't follow what he does!"   Honest to God he said that!  I hugged him and walked away before he saw me laugh. I had been hoping to hear something like walk during a fire drill, listen to the teachers when they talk, you know something like that.  But, no, my kid learned the value of not following the person in front of you when they make poor choices.  Well, I guess that is a pretty good lesson too!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yesterday the boys got in the car and I asked them how their day was.  W said great, Ev said "I've not had very good days these last 2 days of school. I was on yellow today."  I asked him why.  He rambled his story, kinda talking in circles and leaving me with a lot of questions.  Finally he said the key words.
"Well, I didn't think Evelia would tell on me but I guess I was wrong on that one."

Aha!  The words that informed me that my son had done something wrong, not made a mistake.  I read the note from the teacher in his planner and asked him, "So you were destroying materials?"
"Well, it was only 1 crayon.  Ok well maybe it was more."
Add mystery solver to the list of mom job description :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Last night W stayed up later than he should have.  I went downstairs to switch out laundry and saw his light on and heard him playing.  I went in and got him to bed.  It was nearly 2 hrs past bedtime.  This morning my child, who is much like his mamma as far as how he feels about waking up in the morning, woke up with tired blood shot eyes.

He came upstairs and says, "Oh, Mom, the kitchen smells so good.  What are you making?"  I tell him the kitchen smells good because I'm drinking my coffee.  Without missing a beat he says, "Can I have some?  I really need it this morning, I'm really tired."   How many 9 year olds ask for coffee every morning?  He doesn't get it every morning, only on special occasions and sleepovers with Grandma.  Or I give him decaf occasionally.  I just got a kick out of his little blood shot eyes insisting that he needed the coffee this morning.

someone else captured his heart

Yesterday my sweet 5 year old was telling me about his day at school when suddenly these words were said, "And, Mom, I fell in love today."  (said with a sigh and a lit up face)
*Sigh*  "Who did you fall in love with?"
"Her name is Donya. I sat next to her in reading group."
"Is she in your class at school?"
"Well, kinda.  She is in the kindergarten that is there all day long."

My boy fell in love yesterday.  A few hours later that same day......

"Donya is kinda a weird name, but I think it is pretty.  I sat next to her but she doesn't know my name yet.  She has black hair and she is really nice and really pretty.  I hope she falls in love with me too!"

*Sigh*  His heart doesn't belong solely to his Momma anymore.  I know these days come, but do they really have to come in Kindergarten??????  I guess better than his big brother who stole his first kiss at 3, proposed at 5 and began talking about where they would live and what they would name their babies when they grew up and got married.  But still..........   This Momma wasn't ready to share another heart yet!  At least I'm still the queen in my baby boy's heart.  When did they start growing up at 5?  When did it start to matter what the girls in school thought?  When did girls loose their cooties?  (And is there anyway the cooties will return before the boys are old enough to date?????) 

My son fell in love yesterday.  I guess it's good practice for the day when I will take second place in his heart to the one God has designed especially for him.  I don't like it though.  I still want to be his most beautiful girl, at least for a little longer!

supermom

I don't think of myself as supermom.  I am the mom who firmly holds my kids down to get their shots (or any of the other random medical tests they have had to go through).  I am the mom who tells my boys they are fine when they fall.  I don't think that takes any big talent.  Apparently I am wrong though. 

I get annoyed when we go for well visits to the doctors and the nurse doesn't want to let me hold my kids.  I once complained to my best friend about this.  I thought I'd get her sympathy because she is a mom and has had to hold her kids down for stitches before, instead the nurse got her sympathy because my friend  is also a pediatric nurse.  She informed me of how often a parent says they will hold their child and then in their own fear of hurting the child, they don't hold tight enough and people do get hurt.  Almost always the child when they jerk gets hurt and often the parent "holding" the child and sometimes the nurse administering the shot gets kicked or even worse gets stuck with the child's needle. 

Ok, so at least I now get the perspective of the nurses at our doctors office.  I understand how they can be skeptical of my abilities to hold these children who are almost stronger than me.  I've come to accept it and I know that unless it's a nurse who has been around long enough to see me hold them for shots, blood draws and catheters, that I will have to insist that we will be ok. 

Well, I didn't realize the day would come when I would have to assure police officers, paramedics and most of the front end staff at Hubby's work that I was ok.  Today that day came.  The kids and I bummed a ride from my dad to go see Hubby at work so we could have breakfast with him on his birthday.  It was a nice breakfast which was supposed to be followed with coffee and a park date with a friend.  We were standing at the front near the drinking fountain when my youngest, who was in the cart, said, "W, look at the police officers!"  W turned his body to look and his shoes slipped and his feet just fell out from under him. He hit the front of his head on the drinking fountain on the way down and then the back of his head on the floor.  It was LOUD.

As the police officer helped W stand up, his head started gushing blood.  I'm not talking a little bit of blood.  I'm talking blood spurting out of his forhead and blood going everywhere.  It was in his hair, covering his face, on his clothes, on his leg and foot and even on the bottom of his shoes.  Blood all over the floor, all over the drinking fountain and a nice little trail of blood leading to the office where they had us sit down.  The officers radioed for help and informed me that the paramedics were on the way.

I guess everyone expected me to freak out.  I was asked countless times if I was ok.  I was fine.  I just went into mom mode and took care of the situation.  I saw my husbands boss standing near enough to hear me so I told him to walkie Hubby and let him know W was hurt and to meet us at the front.  I got the officer who was trying to manage the initial bleeding some wet paper towels.  Another woman who works there asked if I wanted her to stand with the younger two.  I left them in her capable hands and went with my bleeding child to the back office where they could have him sit until the paramedics arrived.  I talked to W and helped him stay calm.  I talked to the officers and the managers who came in to check on us.  I did what I needed to do. 

But every few seconds someone was asking, "How's mom doing? You ok, Mom?"  I finally told the officers, "I'm fine. It's just blood, he's the one who's not ok. I can handle this, just take care of him."  Then I had to tell the paramedics the same thing.  I had to tell countless employees the same thing.  I was amazed that so many people were amazed that I didn't fall apart.  Now honestly, what good would that have done anyway?  So the paramedics got the bleeding under control and told us to take W in for stitches. We were given the option of going by ambulance or driving him ourselves.  They recommended the nearby hospital.

We did drive him ourselves and took him to the pediatricians office instead of the hospital.  He was so brave, barely cried at all.  The doctor said it was a clean cut and could be glued.  The most tears of the whole event were shed when they had to use iodine to clean it out before using the dermabond to glue it. Even the pediatrician was asking if I was ok!

So my son has a glued gash on his head.  The paramedics said he looks like Harry Potter and will probably have a cool scar.  He liked that.  It isn't lightning bolt shaped but still......  He called his best friend to assure that he was ok.  The recount from his perspective was cute.  "Yeah, I'm ok now.  It doesn't hurt as bad as it did when I hit it.  It's actually not that bad, today I got to watch a new movie with Grammy and then later my favorite movie too! Yeah, that sounds like fun.  'Cept I'm not allowed on monkey bars for a whole week."  ADORABLE!

He has a decent bump under that purplish glued cut.  He also has a pretty decent headache and has been on ibprofen all day.  He is going to be fine.  I am fine also.  Apparently according to the officers and  employees, I am super-mom.  I don't feel like it.  I just did what needed to be done, but I guess a lot of people don't do it as calmly as I did.  Who knew?  I have a hidden talent ;-)  W is nearly 8.  I am the mom of all boys and it has taken nearly 8 years into my parenting journey for any of my kids to have a cut bad enough to warrant stitches or glue. I personally think that is something to be proud of!  Maybe that's why I didn't freak out; I was thinking, "Wow, I can't believe it's taken this long with these monkeys for someone to need the paramedics called and for someone to need stitches!"

I did however hit Starbucks twice today.  See, I do show stress, I drink more coffee!  :-)