jimmy john's

the only restaurant around that's little boy proof...

where eating is really secondary...

and we go on a whim when we need a little dinnertime adventure...

the newly rebuilt Jimmy John's!

it's a guaranteed fun time... just don't forget your quarters.

this time, we invited grampy to join us.

obviously this was a good idea.

because grampy insists that we all get ice cream....

and little train whistles to annoy all the other patrons make us real conductors!

A great time is always had by ALL (Aboard)!

We highly recommend you check it out.

a clean sweep

today was a good day.

it started with this:

and then something even more amazing happened.

i had started getting the house in order for a play group i was going to have this morning (the same people who were supposed to eat the above coffeecake).

but when no one was able to come due to everyone and their mother having the plague (b/c it's plague season)... i kind of just ... kept... cleaning.

i know, i know. crazy concept. ME. wanting to clean.

but something came over me and before i knew it (not really, it took all day)

i cleaned my whole house.

not sure it has ever looked this clean.

notice i say "looked".

b/c it wasn't a deep clean. not sure that will ever happen on my watch.

there is still plenty of dust, film, and dirt on various surfaces (ie, my floors and windows).

but every single room is straightened and presentable.

laundry is put away.

hats/gloves/boots are organized.

i even moved some shelves and got a new system in place for winter-wear.

this always makes me feel like a new person.... moving things around. i just stand there and stare at it in its new place, with pride, like it's a new baby or something.

stuff that's been sitting in our bedroom for lack of a better place is now stored properly.

dust bunnies no longer hide under my dresser, bed, or in the basement.

i found the mysterious missing plug to our humidifier that we lost shortly after we moved here 4 and 1/2 years ago. i swear i've looked under my dresser for it a million times, but somehow, today, it was there! this may have been my favorite moment of the day.

or maybe it's tied with the genius organization of my newly moved shelves.

either way, very exciting.

i know there are days more worth of work to do in terms of organizing and true cleaning, but right now, i feel really, really happy. it's amazing what a little hard work will do for the soul. especially a soul that fights tooth and nail to avoid hard work.

but the cleaning bug has bit me, and i'm not complaining.

yet.

i'm sure in a few days when i realize that the hard work is not a one and done thing, and i have to start all over b/c i let it go for a few days... i will be tempted to complain.

as i like to say... it's so hard being an american.

...with my dyson vacuum and my automatic dishwasher, clothes washer and dryer, and my trusty 'clorox anywhere' spray... not to mention my clean, running water, flushing toilet, and warm shower. ... oh and healthy children... and devoted, hard-working husband...........

sheesh.

somebody slap me if i ever complain about ANYthing.

for now, i will sit here in my somewhat pristine livingroom, and glow along with it.

monkey see....

monkey do!

Finally Snow Time!

all 3 of my boys got ready to play in the snow this morning, and happened to have matching outfits. good thing there's a woman in the house who cares about these important things!

My Little Snowman

You never cease to amaze and amuse me, my first born. My 3-going-on-21-year-old. My wise old soul trapped in a little lanky body.

You wake up to the first snow of winter (looking like you've grown overnight again) and your first exclamation as you emerge from your bedroom and tear down the hall is, "Mom! Dad! I saw a salt spreader with a snowplow, just like Poppy's!!!" Nothing about the snow, its beauty or the fact that it's finally here, after waiting months for it and telling us we just need to be patient every time we wish out loud for it. When you rush into our bedroom where I am eagerly awaiting your first morning smile and dancy little eyes, I ask you if you saw the snow. Your standard answer is both gleeful and matter-of-fact at the same time: "Of course i did!"

You climb up next to me and we look out the window together. I glance at the beauty of the snow and then turn my gaze quickly to your face, consciously taking in your wonder and the moment. For watching you watch the world is the highlight of my life. You comment on how the snow has covered the cars, the wall, the swing... and you say, "Dad was right, part of the wall is covered and part of it isn't." Apparently he had predicted how much snow we'd get last night before bed. And of course you remember. Of course you do.

You request your highchair be turned to face the window so you can watch the snow while you eat your waffle with whipped cream and a fresh cherry face. You are serious about eating when it involves whipped cream. You munch in silence alongside your brother, observing the way the snow has blanketed the branches. You declare that we're going to build a "Snowbotasaurus", and we all laugh at the cleverness of you... and imagine how fun that will be.

There's a science to dressing for snowplay. And no matter how well I think i've perfected it, it always takes forever. But as you indulge me for a picture with your matching sweaters and snowpants, the excitement mounts, and we tromp down the stairs to put on the finishing touches-- boots and coats and hats. I open the door and wish I could be on the other side of it, like a movie, watching your first breath of cold air and the joy it brings to your face. But instead I watch the back of you, actually looking stout in your snow gear; bigger, wider and older than the skinny reality underneath.

It's a crunchy snow. only 2-3 inches deep with a little crust on top -- perfect for your short little stride. Any deeper and walking would be difficult... as it already proves to be for your brother. . . who is immediately frustrated. Oblivious, you set out across the yard calling for us to follow in your footprint path. "Come on, guys! Follow me!" My natural born leader.

As plans for the Snowbotosaurus unfold, I look to your artist father, hoping he has a clue as to how to sculpt in such detail as you are envisioning. Fortunately you are satisfied with simplicity, and are on to explore the yard within minutes. We try to appease your brother with a sled ride, but he is out of sorts, and won't even tolerate that. So after a few minutes of frustration, inside with Daddy he goes, and you and I are left to our own devices. We cross the slushy road to check the mailbox for Maddy's letter. You watch the cars spin slush into the air as if it were the most fascinating thing you've ever seen. People smile at us as they drive past slowly. I can only imagine they think you are as cute as I do. There is something about seeing a child out early in the morning, enjoying what we adults recall being once so magical. Your innocence brings joy even to passers-by.

We make it back to our driveway safely and as I open a piece of mail (no letter yet), I glance up and notice you a few feet away, lying motionless on your back in the snow. When I ask what you're doing you reply, "Just watchin the sky." Eagerly seizing another moment, I join you, and side by side we talk about the whiteness of the sky, like one biiiiiig cloud covering the earth. You decide that it's white because it's where the snow comes from. I must concur. I stare up at it for moment and then turn my eyes again to watch your wonder. It's been several minutes now and you haven't moved a muscle, or turned your gaze from the plain, white (kinda boring) sky. I marvel at who you are. How captivated you can be by sights and sounds and smells. All of which we talk about in hushed voices, instinctively respectful of the snowy silence around us. I wish I could freeze the moment and show it to you years from now. I wish I could fully take it in, myself, and remember it forever. I try really hard to gather it all up and ponder it in my heart. i trace your face with my eyes, attempting to memorize it for some future snowy day when you no longer look and sound the way you do. You tell me that when you put snow in your eye it turns into tears, and I watch you blink hard as a single droplet runs down your cheek into your hair. I ask you what you like best about snow and you say "building Snowbotasauruses", but I know the real answer is, "eating it." You can't stop scooping up mittenfuls and munching it as we sit there. I remember it appealing to me too many moons ago, and think to myself how now it isn't something I would ever do-- eat snow. And with that, you scoop up a chunk and hand it to me to take a bite. Thank you for rescuing me from being so grown-up.

You suggest we go in for hot chocolate, and I think selfishly how great it would be to get away with not have to trudge up and down the hill with a sled! What is wrong with me?! And while you never mention the sled, you do get distracted from the thought of hot chocolate about 10 more times... climbing the small Jap Maple tree and jumping into the snow-covered leaf pile leftover from Fall. Shaking the branches in hopes of making them 'snow'. Discussing why I can't throw you into a big snowdrift like we did the last 2 years (when there were 18-24 inches on the ground). Eating more snow. Towing your dumptruck out of the place where it was "stuck" in the snowy driveway. Shoveling all around the dump truck, pretending to be helping it get un-stuck. Shoveling the snow off the cars. Singing "What does it take? Team-work!" as we brush the snow from the windows and headlights. "You do this car, and I'll do this one, Mom." After several minutes of hard work, you mention hot chocolate again, for the 10th time, and this time we decide to call it a morning. It's probably not even 9:30am, but what a wonder-full morning it's been!

Thank you, my sweetness, for the memories.

I will keep them right here forever.

...Of course I will.

a little look in the mirror

"Mom, I'm mad to you because you're mad to ME. "

"What??"

We were eating breakfast in total peace and harmony, listening to kids' music.

I was standing at the stove, flipping pancakes. . . you know, being a good mom!

Trying to clarify, I asked, "You mean, you're mad at me because I'm mad at you?"

"Yeah."

"But Honey, I'm not mad at you."

"No Mom, when i disobey, you get mad and so i get mad."

"Ohhh, so when i get angry it makes you get angry?"

"Yes."

"Well, I know a good solution to that problem..."

"What?"

"Don't disobey me!" I flashed him a smile.

He returned the smile, and continued eating.

I returned to my smoking griddle and pondered in silence. Well, as silently as possible with Row, Row, Row Your Boat playing in the background.

Wow, I thought, that was extremely random and rather profound. I knew I had skipped over a potential teaching moment on the root of our hearts and their propensity toward sin... but I chose to allow the truth of what he was pointing out to sink into my own heart for a bit.

My anger effects him. It provokes him. It stirs up wrath. It does exactly what the Bible warns us it will do. Yes, eventually he will learn that we are all responsible for our responses, and that returning evil for evil is not ok.

But for now, this conviction lies on his mama. For I am the primary daily example in his life of how (or how not) to handle your anger.

I have been struggling a lot lately in this arena. He has quite a mouth on him, and his disrespect and disobedience flow freely from his nature. And as if it should be so surprising to me that he acts this way (I've been taught well at what to expect from a 3 year old), I allow his defiance, rebellion and disregard for my authority to invite me into rage. It happens so quickly, and it flows from my own prideful nature. I return evil for evil without a second thought. And so, before I seize a teaching moment, I best take time to learn MY lesson. Before i preach to him, i realllly need to preach to myself.

Between that last paragraph and this one, several hours have passed. He went skipping off to school. I got a few things done. I went to pick him up. He was happy as a lark. We stopped to look at the swollen river down the street... an impromptu science lesson. It was what rainy days should be. Fun and carefree. Everyone was happy.

Upon returning home, he started groaning in protest when i would ask him to do something. kind of an aggravated, guttural, complaining "ughhh!!"

I decided I better address this new attitude right away... again, being the good mom that i am.

"Why do you keep doing that?" I asked, looking him square in the eye. And before I could fully get out the words, "Did you learn it from someone at school?", he raised his arm and pointed his scrawny little finger right at me! The little stinker! He couldn't possibly be serious. Surely he was misunderstanding me.

I repeated the question.

He repeated his answer... this time adding a clarifying, "YOU."

And in case I didn't fully comprehend what this meant, he added matter of factly,"That's what YOU do when you're mad."

STRAIGHT to the heart.

Thanks, kiddo.

And as if it should be so surprising to me that I can act just like a 3 year old , after 32 years of being taught the difference between right and wrong, good attitude and poor, etc, etc. , I sit astonished that what he could be accusing me of could actually be true! Again I skipped the teaching moment, the opportunity to humbly respond, confess, and talk about why it is wrong to groan and complain. Instead I sat there and let the impact sink in a little deeper.

He's watching your every move. He's listening to your tone. He's learning... whether you mean to be teaching or not. He's picking up what you're putting down. EVERY day. All day long.

Oh, Lord! Helllllp meeee!

Help me to get low.

I cannot do this without Your help. I need humility. I need wisdom. I need patience and most of all, Love.

ok, let's start with the basics:

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

(from 1 Corinthians 13)

It continually amazes me that the ONE Person who has every right to get angry with me, NEVER does.

But now you must also rid yourselves of all such things as these: anger, rage, malice, slander, and filthy language from your lips. Do not lie to each other, since you have taken off your old self with its practices and have put on the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge in the image of its Creator. ... Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.

(from Colossians 3)

And lest I think I can just 'try a little harder' to be more loving, the Lord gave me a little reminder as to why a resolution isn't the solution. . . to start off the new year. I decided my New Year's resolution would be to be less angry and more patient. Broad enough for a year-long goal, right? It took me all of 2.5 hours to fail on New Year's Day. By 10am I had completely lost it with the disrespectful and disobedient antics of the above little cherub. I even scared myself with how angry I got. And it was over something I probably would have judged someone else for reacting so strongly to. I don't even remember what it was now. But it was like a slap in my own face with the truth that the law just stirs up sin.

I would not have known what sin was had it not been for the law. For I would not have known what coveting really was if the law had not said, “You shall not covet.”

(romans 7:7)

The law (ie, 10 commandments) was given so that we would understand that we could not fulfill it! As soon as I try to pull myself up by own self-righteous bootstraps and take hold of my anger by my own strength, I will fail all over the place. Case. In. Point.

God loves me too much to allow me to live in the false presumption that I am the conqueror of my own sin. He allowed me to fail immediately as a big fat reminder that I was relying on the wrong person to provide the power to overcome.

It stopped me in my tracks, and after wallowing in defeat for a bit, I found the Holy Spirit prompting me to crawl into my 3 year old's bedroom and ask for his forgiveness...

it was nothing noble, or even motivated by humility... it was more out of desperation to repair some of the damage i had just wrought. to stop the tears i had just inflicted upon him.

somehow in doing so, there was a beautiful and instantaneous moment where we were both able to see how ugly sin is, how wrong it is to disobey God, and how much we need Jesus to help us. My little one saw the love in my eyes, the 'sorry' in my words, and instantly forgave me. He is such a better teacher to me than i am to him!

I cannot do this parenting thing without the God's constant intervention. Jesus is the best example there is of what it means to humble yourself, put on love, and provide wisdom.

Sometimes I act like because I'm my kids' authority, I'm more righteous than they are. But I'm starting to realize just how mistaken I am when I act in that frame of mind.

It's only because He conquered sin through dying and then RISING Victorious over death, I can put on HIS righteousness. . . which is nothing like mine.

I delight greatly in the LORD; my soul rejoices in my God. For he has clothed me with garments of salvation and arrayed me in a robe of His righteousness, as a bridegroom adorns his head like a priest, and as a bride adorns herself with her jewels.

(Isaiah 61:10)

I have a feeling my resolution needs to be simply to get lower. to stay there. to return there whenever I fail. and to remember who is the "chief of sinners". It is not my child.

It would do my soul wonders to remember each morning that my children are a gift from the Lord, fragile seedlings in need of water, tenderness, and love. . . they are soaking up what I am pouring out upon them.

I cannot just conjur up patient love in the moment where i am offended by their obnoxious little outbursts. What fills my cup each day will be what spills out when it is bumped.

I am responsible to soak up the TRUTH that Christ is now living IN me, ready to empower me to shower them with His Love, Patience, Kindness, etc... that it might pour out of me. If I do not dwell on His love for me, how can I expect that Love to flow to others through me? I must stop functioning on the caffeine of my own strength. It is empty.

They are watching me closely, observing my every move, and seeking to imitate that which they see. May they continually observe, not a mom who thinks she's got it all together . . but a mom who loves them with the kind, patient, humble, persevering LOVE of the Savior. And who shows them how to cry out to Him when she fails.

Ultimately, I pray their hearts will be drawn to God. They will not be drawn to Him if they do not see His Love. No one is ever drawn to Him by anger. It's His Kindness that leads to repentance! (romans 2:4)

I have so far to go in this journey, and yet so little time to learn how to love them well!

Please keep me drawing near to your Heart, Oh God, and remind me again and again that your "Mercies are New every morning", you love me beyond my wildest dreams, and you love my children more than I ever could!! ... It is IN that Love that I must dwell... and trust YOU to grow them into strong, flourishing young men.

May God himself, the God of peace, sanctify you through and through. May your whole spirit, soul and body be kept blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.

The one who calls you is faithful, and HE will do it.

(1 Thessalonians 5:23-24)

kissing lessons

For an affectionate kid with great lips, you'd think my 3 year old would be a sweet little kisser. You'd think puckering up and planting one on your mommy's cheek once in a while would come naturally. While i kiss his little cheeks ALL the time, he's never been one to reciprocate. Once in a while he'll attempt a little peck on my hand... and recently I realized I should probably take advantage of this most innocent stage of his life and start requesting more lovin from those talkative little lips. but when i asked him the other day to give me a kiss, to my surprise the child has no clue how to do so correctly! i mean, he puts his mouth up to your cheek/hand/arm, etc, and attempts it upon request... but the result is mostly the scraping of little teeth on your skin which, more than anything, makes your skin crawl.
After a few of these love bites I realized it was time for "kissing lessons".

Step 1: Pucker up. There is no other way to teach this than by showing him.
Step 2: Put your pucker on my cheek/hand/arm, etc.
Step 3: "Mwaahh!" with your lips, not your toothy grin.

How hard can it be?
Apparently harder than one quick 3 Step lesson.
Step 3 ended up being more tooth scraping. EW.
So we've been practicing, and little by little, he's growing more proficient!



There's nothing that melts a mommy's heart more than a genuine, heartfelt kiss. Here's hoping to get as many as I can before he becomes too cool...
which, let's face it, could be at any moment!