Sacred Conversations

While reading some Bible stories tonight, Avery and I had some amazing conversations. They went something like this:

Avery: "Wait, wait, wait. Does God or Jesus live in my heart?"
Me: "Hmm, that's a good question. I guess they both do."
Avery: Thinking, "How?"
Me: "Well, Jesus and God are so special, they can both be there."
Avery: "Like magic."
Me: "Magic isn't real. But God is very real and He can do whatever and be wherever He wants."

Avery, awed and satisfied, moves on to our Esther storybook.

Me: "God asked Esther to make her brave. You can ask God to make you brave too."
Avery: "Yep, I can just pull down my shirt and ask Him."
Me: Trying so hard not to laugh at my literal child, "Actually, you can just say it out loud, like a prayer. God lives everywhere, so He'll hear you."
Avery: Nodding, wide eyed and cautiously, "Just like I do when I'm afraid of the dark."
Me: "Yep, just like that. You can ask Him anything."

I love where she's at right now. Her literal understanding of all things. Her endless supply of inquires. Her willingness to hug and kiss her brother, even when he pushes her away. It makes me smile every time. I wonder if that's how God feels when He loves on us. I don't care if you like it, I'm gonna hug you anyways. Ha!

I hope your children have blessed you this week. That time with Avery was a special way for me to start my weekend!


How have your children blessed you lately?
Have they done anything that personified God for you?

I Want It Purkt-fit . . .

Our creation. Sun, stem & leaves courtesy of Avery.

Avery and I were doing some alphabet games on the iPad and her reward for playing such games is to be able to use the doodle app. Well, she wanted me to draw a horse and I told her that if I drew one, that she would have to draw one next. Tears. Streaming. Uncontrollably. "But mom, I can't."

What the heck. My child is an emotional wreck. This is a thought I have daily. I finally calmed her down and told her that her drawing does not have to be the best. She just needs to practice and practice and she'll learn to get better. "But mom," she said. "I want it to be purkt-fit."

Perfect. Crap. God gave me one of those people. Someone just like myself, just like Mike. One who places ridiculous expectations upon oneself. These people excel in school and measurable things. They also have self-induced ulcers. This was a key moment in understanding my daughter. In hindsight, it should have been obvious.

We've been trying to figure out why Avery has been disinterested in learning letters. When I'd ask her to sit with me or have a conversation about a letter, she'd rush off or tell me that she couldn't. Every letter was an "R" or and "A," sigh. I was pretty frustrated. Some told me that she's still young, others tried to hide their judgment when I confessed she had little interest.  Then I found myself face to face with my bookwormy friend Jessica's adorable 20-month-old. She was picking up blocks and identifying the letters that adorned their sides. I calmed my inner breakdown and found some genuine joy for my friend's genius toddler and reserved my mourning for a later time. (Love you Jess, E is amazing!)

So, I lay awake at night worrying with God if my daughter will be dyslexic or if we'll have to turn every letter into an animal. Praying that He will make me a mom that is ok with a C student if that's her best. Wondering how we'll manage if Nathan is an academic and Avery is not and making them both understand that their equally loved and valued.  Anyone else have ridiculous what if thoughts like I do? Meanwhile, God was orchestrating the horse drawing incident. It occurred the next day. The glorious epiphany.

I've since changed my approach to learning letters and numbers. She is immersed in them without knowing it. We have conversations about them. She's begun to have the confidence to identify them on signs, shirts and food cartons. We do an iPad alphabet or number game daily. I don't pressure her like before and I encourage her greatly when she's successful.

I think school has brought this need for perfection to the surface. She has 12 other peers to whom she can compare herself. She can see their "success" and compare her work. It was bound to happen, I just wish it was when she was a bit more reasonable.

I had a mid-year conference with her preschool teacher and revealed this new information to her. I'm so grateful for her 20 year experience. She nodded in realization. She showed me a self portrait Avery drew in July and one that she drew in January. The July portrait looked like a person, the January portrait looked like a blob of lines. I absolutely know that she thought she couldn't do it well, so she just didn't even try.

I can relate. There are a few things I didn't attempt in life because of fear of failure - playing college volleyball being at the top of the list. Now, how to teach her to cope with expectations of herself . . . so that she might have the fear, but still take the action.

Are there personality traits of yours that have surfaced in your kids? How have they manifested within their personality?

Baking with Abuela

Avery Misunderstood

Oh, my dear Avery. She's pretty much amazing. As I've shared before, Avery can be sort of socially challenged. She'll tell strangers thank you in an inaudible voice. She'll shy away from saying hello to people who she's known for years, all three of them.

Avery and E

Once you've enter her approved circle, however, you cannot get rid of her. You cannot shut her up. She cannot keep her hands off of you. We have play dates with Jessica and her 19 month old daughter, E, fairly often and Avery cannot keep her hands to herself. They hold hands. Avery leads her all over the place - to not always great places. She must be touching E while they're sitting next to each other. She cries if they go to the bathroom, because she just might miss out on something exciting. When we're caravanning, Avery constantly makes sure she knows the location of Jessica's car. "Are they behind us? How do you know? Will they meet us there? Will they park next to us?" She's nuts.

We recently went to another friend's birthday party - her first birthday party that she'll remember - and she must have given the birthday girl 14 hugs. Okay, it was more like 3, but it felt like 14 to me. That same friend moved up to the four-year-old Sunday school class at church this week. When they joined classes for worship, Avery got in trouble because she tried to hold hands and steal her friend away. When they told her to pay attention to worship, she went into pout mode.

At the birthday party, she did so great. She interacted with the other kids really well. She didn't cry one time - which is a feat for her. She was patient and waited her turn. She wasn't selfish at all. She fully understood that the party was for her friend. I could not have been more proud.

So, I worry that Avery get's misunderstood. I think her swings from shy to smothering can throw some for a loop. It's hard to reason through as an adult, it can seem pretty ridiculous. Mike's helped me realize that she has so many emotions, it is difficult for her to filter and decide which one should surface. She's getting better, though. We've seen so much growth in her lately. Thanks to all of our friends (and their kids) who are patient with her and her emotions!

Have you had a similar experience? How was your child's first birthday party experience?

A Love Affair with a Red-Nosed Reindeer

Mother of the Year Moment #1

We've all had those moments of realization when we have to acknowledge the fact that we failed in our role as a mother. I labeled this post with a "#1" because more will certainly follow.

So, one night Avery and I were watching Beauty and the Beast. She was watching it and I was reading, then suddenly I hear her say, "Damn it." So, I calmly ask her to repeat what she said because it is not unlikely that I would mis-hear her. So she repeats it and, unfortunately, I heard her correctly.

Upon asking for an explanation, she tells me that Beast just said, "Damn it!" in the movie. "When?" I ask. She tells me that he says it in the bath tub.

Rewind. Play. "Damn it." What?!? No way! Rewind. Play. "Damn it." DVD Menu. Closed captioning on. Rewind. Play. I hear "Damn it," but CC says "Daring." Phew. After a phew more listens, I confirm that he does in fact say, "Daring."

Then Avery and I had to have a discussion about the use of the damn it phrase. I asked her if she knew what it meant. She was quite proud to tell me that it meant "not good." Apparently, when she heard me say it, I was quite effective at communicating that the situation was "not good." I had to explain that she was right, but that we shouldn't say it. I was wrong to say it and shouldn't say it any more.

The unfortunate thing about this whole occurrence, aside from the obvious lack of motherly inner monologue, is that every time we watch B&B, she has to explain to anyone and everyone what Beast does and does not say. It goes something like, "Beast not say damn it. Nooooooo, nooooooo." Laughter. "He's not 'posed to say that. He says daring." This need for clarification led to a questioning text from my mother while she was watching the movie with her.

So, needless to say. I have said the d-word in front of my children. Let it be known that I saved it for an instance like spilling hot coffee all over my lap while driving. Or breaking a glass jar on my kitchen tile, then five minutes later breaking another glass object in my pantry. Applicable instances, poor self control.

Has your munchkin outed you regarding a not-so ideal situation? Care to share?


PS - Forgive my poor use of quotation marks. I'm aware of my lack of grammatical abilities. 


PPS - Please also forgive my blogging absence the past few weeks! I'll explain my time management issues in Friday's post. 

Wordless Wednesday - Picture Fun

I Love You, Spiderman

Yesterday morning, when Mike emerged from the bedroom wearing a fitted red jacket, Avery exclaimed, "You look like Spiderman!!"

He did, in fact, look like Spiderman. 

She was very excited. Mike and I looked at each other because we had no idea she was remotely aware of Spiderman. She has a kickball with his picture. I recently bought some Tonka Trucks for Nathan with the Marvel Comics logos. She asked me about each one. After I described all the heros, she expressed that she liked the blue truck best. Still, I don't know where she's actually seen a picture of the fully suited Spiderman.

Her knowledge base is quickly growing. She is aware of far more than I credit to her. I know that Spiderman is a silly example, but we are constantly impressed by things she thinks and says. 

Perhaps the sweetest thing she said yesterday came as Mike buckled her into the Jeep after church.

She looked at him adoringly and said, "I love you, Spiderman."

Has your child said something that impressed or surprised you lately?

Oh, Mornings - The Variance

Nathan Awake Attack

Nate is the only morning person in our house. Poor soul. He's happy. He squeals with joy. Sometimes we have to take him onto the back porch so he doesn't wake the rest of the house.

Mike's brain functions at it's greatest capacity early in the morning, but his social skills are at their lowest. He gets into work around 6:15, but doesn't answer his phone before 8. It's a rule.

Neither my brain, nor my social skills are functioning in the morning. Nate's morning delight works quite well for me though. I can loathe the early morning hour privately on the coach as he plays.

My dear, dear Avery requires a full 30 minutes of wake time before any purposeful discussion can take place. I have to ask her questions that require only one word answers. Fortunately, Little Einsteins tends to snap her out of her funk as she pats her lap to make Rocket go faster - prestissimo!

I pray that God brings her a husband who is not a morning person. For his own sake.

What are mornings like in your house?

Is that Jesus?

While watching Billy the Exterminator, we saw a preview for some show called Person of Interest. The following conversation ensued:

Me: Mike, isn't that Jesus?
Avery: (confidently) No, that's not Jesus.
Mike: What? No, it's not.
Me: Look! It is. I think it's Jesus.
Avery: (more confidently) Mom! That is NOT Jesus!
Mike: Hmmm, not Jesus. I think it's the Count of Monte Cristo.
Me: (eye roll) Mike, Jesus IS the Count of Monte Cristo.
Mike: Really? Huh.
Avery: Maaaaaaaaaaahm, that isn't Jesus!
Me: Avery! You're right. That isn't Jesus. Do you know what Jesus looks like?
Avery: I not know.

I often wonder about Avery's concept of Jesus and God. She knows that Jesus is God's son. She knows we pray to Them and They help us and heal us. She also knows that God made everything. She understands that They want us to love people and treat them nicely. I've never considered how she envisions them.

There is a painting of Jesus in the "lobby" of our church office. Our Lead Worshiper, Chris McLaughlin painted it. Whenever we stop by, Avery stops and stares at the painting for a few seconds. She'll turn and inform me that it's Jesus. I'm not sure if it's the size of the painting (like 6'x8') or the message in the eyes, but she is in awe of it. It moves me because I that's my prayer for her. That she'll have that same awe for Him when she fully understand who He is.

One thing she does understand - Jim Caviezel is NOT Jesus.

And now you also know that Mike has little to no cinematic knowledge.


How do/did your little ones personify Jesus and God? 

What we do now?

Whenever Avery - my 3 year old - and I are doing something like making cookies or finishing a puzzle, she asks, "What we do now?" Basically, she wants to know what's next on the docket. As annoyingly cute as that question is, it is actually quite daunting.

It is so easy to get caught up in the day to day motherly tasks like requiring pleases and thank yous, making lunches, ensuring that everyone has clean underwear, etc. I do enjoy cooking and baking and spending time with my kids, but - if I'm honest - sometimes those daily things aren't enough for me.

However, God has reminded me of something over the past few weeks. Avery started preschool this month and I was so excited about what she was going to be learning, I'd forgotten about all that I would still be teaching her. (Silly, I know.) There are a couple of boys at school who like to take her toys. Probably because it makes her cry. What boy wouldn't want to get a rise out of a girl if it's so easy? So Mom, "What we do now?" What do I do when people are mean to me? What do I do when people are mean to others? What do I do when life's not fair?  I've been reminded that it is my job to help her answer that question along the way - in all circumstances. A heavy job, but an honorable one. A God-commissioned one. So, while the daily tasks can wear, I've been reminded of my greater purpose - to raise God-loving kids who know the answer to "What we do now?"

So, I pray to God, literally, that I can help them answer that question everyday with humility and grace. Because if I had my way, I'd just tell Avery to poke those boys in the eye and see if they take her toys again.