Changing My Name

There are days when I just want to be called something else besides "Mommy."

This summer has been great, but if I have to break up one more fight and listen to "Mom, he hit me," and "Mom, she's being mean to me," I just might lose my mind. Of course I will hear these comments again so it is inevitable that my mind will be gone in the near future. I am so sorry, sweet little one growing inside of me-your mom used to be sane.

As I was attempting to take a moment to brush my teeth and somewhat fix my hair this morning, I heard the all too familiar whine, "Mommy" coming from downstairs. I yelled back, "I'm changing my name-I will not answer to 'Mommy' anymore." There was a pause and then I heard, "Tammy."

Are you kidding me?

While I am ranting, I might as well ask the question, "Why am I the only one in this house to clean up after myself?" Seriously, why? I love my dear husband and he does a good job on things like not leaving a mess after shaving, taking out the garbage, and telling the kids to take their plates to the sink. But, I am curious to why other tasks are so difficult for him.

Such as, putting his dirty clothes in the laundry basket-it is a foot away from the pile that he forms on the bedroom floor so why can't they make it all the way in? And why stack the dishes in the sink (if they make it that far) when the dishwasher is right there waiting to be filled? Why do we have a closet in the entryway of our house if the dining room chairs are the perfect place to drape coats? And putting things in piles (particularly on my kitchen counter) is not actually considered putting them away.

Still, he works all day, provides for us and I can look the other way (most of the time). I have to admit, he has helped me a lot during this pregnancy with the household duties that I really just want to avoid.

However, my children have no excuse. Okay, so they are five and three. Big deal. If they have enough energy to take out all of their toys and books, then they should have the energy to put them away. My absolute biggest pet peeve to hear at the moment is, "But, there's so much to pick up that I can't do it."

Excuse me? Am I supposed to muster up some sympathy for you based on that comment? So, if you have too many possessions, I should give you a break? You have the wrong audience, dear one.

My personal favorite frustration was today. We are going out of town tomorrow and the day we get back, we will be meeting with a realtor about putting our house on the market. My plan is to have the house perfect when we leave tomorrow so that when we get back, it will be all ready for our guest. I spent the morning cleaning up and decluttering the closets. After naptime (which was a joke for a certain young man), I went into Caleb's room-big mistake.

Somehow, he had snuck the scissors into his room (please don't judge me for my lack of seeing it) and decided to give his Diego doll a hair cut. I never knew that one little doll could have so much hair. His entire floor, bed, chair, and train table was covered in brown fuzzies. Not only that, but he also had found time to empty the drawers of his train table, clear out of all his books from the shelf, place his drumset on top of his bed, and empty more toys than I can count onto his floor.

For those of you living near Cincinnati, I apologize for the volumn of my screams.

After realizing he was in grave danger, Caleb did his best to clean up without complaining. Abby caught on and picked up her room as well. Over an hour later, their rooms were slightly presentable and I was a sweaty mess. Perhaps from all the cleaning or maybe from my fuming-either way, the energy I had for cleaning the rest of the house was gone.

I tried to explain to my beloved children that I would love to spend my days reading with them, doing puzzles, playing games, etc., but that because they make messes and walk away, I have to spend all day cleaning up after everyone. Here is a novel concept-when you are done with something, PUT IT AWAY!

Nick and I will be in Denver for a few days (he has a conference and I am just tagging along for a break before the next child arrives) and I am really looking forward to it. It will be great to see the beauty of Colorado, visit some old friends and possibly sleep in. But, my favorite part? I will be staying in a hotel where I will not have to clean up after anyone! No fights to break up! No whining to listen to! It sounds like a dream.

Of course, the beauty of getting away will make me homesick for my children and all of the chaos that comes with it. At some point, during my little getaway, I will miss being called, "Mommy." What a blessing to have a break so I can remember that this is all worth it.

Theological Questions

I was going through video footage in order to download skits and dramas from camp. While searching for what I needed, I came across the Christmas pageant from church, called "Angel Alert." Immediately, the kids heard the familiar tunes and sat down to watch.

At one point during the show, one of the lines says something about Lucifer. After all those practices of Abby hearing that line, it suddenly dawned on her that she had no idea who that was. So, she asked, "Who's Lucifer?"

Wow. What a fun can of worms to open.

I started with the simplest of explanations by saying, "Lucifer is Satan." As she continued to stare blankly at me, I realized I actually had to continue. I explained how Lucifer was a beautiful angel in Heaven who thought he knew better than God and how he was kicked out of Heaven and now lives in Hell. Which, of course, brought the question, "What's hell?"

Yippee-the conversation had to keep going.

I told her that Hell is where Satan lives and that it is a terrible place because God does not exist there. Then I reassured her that she did not need to worry about it because everyone who believes in Jesus goes to Heaven and never has to go to Hell. Of course my constantly thinking girl asked, "Then what happens to the people who do not believe in Jesus? Do they go to Hell?"

I really wish I could have sugar coated the truth, but there was nothing I could say but, "Yes, they do. But that is why it is important for us to always tell people about Jesus so they can go to Heaven, too."

That seemed to satisfy her for a moment and then she asked, "So, is Satan the serpent in the garden?" When I told her yes, she asked, "Then how did he look like a serpent? Was it a costume?"

Well, the fun continued. I explained how Satan is powerful, too, and can make himself look like other things. But, no matter how powerful he is, we know how everything will end-God will win the battle. She seemed happy with that and opened her Bible to the chapter about the Garden of Eden titled, "The terrible lie." She said, "Some of my other Bibles just say it was a serpent, but this one says it was Satan and that he was lying-I wonder why the other ones don't say that?"

I wonder why, too. Perhaps because they are written for children and do not want to scare them or confuse them. But, this particular Bible, "The Jesus Storybook Bible," writes the truth and always brings the reader back to the love story of Jesus. (Warning: Book plug here) Here is an excerpt from the first chapter...

"...The Bible isn't a book of rules, or a book of heroes. The Bible is most of all a Story. It's an adventure story about a young Hero who comes from a far country to win back his lost treasure. It's a love story about a brave Prince who leaves his palace, his throne-everything-to rescue the one he loves. It's like the most wonderful of fairy tales that has come true in real life! You see, the best thing about this Story is-it's true."

I used to dread the kinds of questions that Abby just asked, but after the year we have had, I have come to realize that every difficult situation presents an opportunity to show the gospel. Telling the kids that we lost their brother or sister last December was not something I wanted to do, but instead of them questioning God, they talked about how they will meet him or her in Heaven someday. Instead of Abby questioning the existence of a place called Hell, she is learning about the grace of God that rescues us from such a terrible place.

Everything that has happened since the beginning of time has been woven together by this amazing artist we call our Father. I am excited to see the pattern He has laid out for my children and how I can be a part of it.

More Sayings Of My Children

-Caleb's Sunday School teacher told me yesterday that when the question was asked, "What did you learn from the lesson today?" that Caleb gave a fun response. He announced, "I learned that I wear underwear to bed at naptime and not a pull-up!"

Okay, so I might be able to relate that to a story about Moses...somehow...nope, sorry, can't do it.

-As I sat down and sighed an exhausted sigh, Abby sat next to me, rubbed my belly and said, "I know, Mommy, I know. I know what it's like to be pregnant."

Oh really, my five-year old? You know what it is like to be pregnant? Yikes. It really was a sweet thing to say and I know what she meant-just a really funny thing to hear my innocent daughter say.

The Pink House

It has been five years since we moved into this house and we are finally painting our living room. Our motivation? We want to sell it and move closer to the area that we are constantly driving toward. Oh, and we could use another bedroom for this little one on the way.

I have been asking, hinting, begging, nagging-whatever you want to call it-about painting the living room since we moved in. All of the other rooms were painted within that first year. The catch to the living room is that it is quite a task. We have a loft so our living room ceiling goes very high. The idea of painting such walls was not a very exciting idea, hence we kept putting it off.

Thanks to the "buy paint on the Fourth of July and get a rebate" advice from our neighbor, I let Nick go and pick out the color. Yes, I am that brave. Normally, I am quite controlling about such things. However, being pregnant brings out my lazy side and really, if we did not love the color, oh well-we are trying to move anyway.

I did send some advice along with Nick before he went to buy the paint. I mentioned wanting a cream color-somewhere between light enough so that our house did not seem small, but dark enough to cover up the marks that our beloved children have left on the white, flat painted walls. That is specific enough, right?

Nick brought home a five gallon bucket of Painted Desert Sand. My first thought when seeing the color card was, "looks a bit pink," but I thought it looked brown next to our green dining room and did not want to hurt the feelings of my wonderful husband who had just unhappily spent a lot of money on my project.

We started painting this past week. We started upstairs in the loft, since it was less daunting than starting in the living room. The color looked great, we were working well together, and the kids were staying out of the way. However, as the paint began to dry, Nick suddenly said, "It looks pink." Not wanting to accept our own eyes, since we had been staring at the paint for so long, we asked the kids. Abby said, "Yea, it's pink!"

Crap. If you cannot trust the honesty of a five-year old, who can you trust?

Since we had already started using the paint, we could no longer return any of it to the store. To change the color would take buying a lot more paint to mix with it and there was no guarantee it would look better. We began to accept the fact that we were indeed painting our house pink.

This is where it was challenging to be Nick's wife. I had to listen to him critique himself over all of his bad decisions. He bought a five gallon bucket of paint instead of individual cans so that we could not return any of it. He did not try a sample of the paint first. Oh, and he bought pink paint.

I kept saying how it was not that bad. It looked nice next to our other colors. It would look better once it was all done. The curtains would help dull the color. I even had our neighbors come over and get their opinions to make him feel better. The wife backed me up by saying all of the encouraging ideas of how to make it look nice. The husband said, "It looks lavender."

Thanks for that, buddy.

My determined and cheap self just kept painting. The last few days I have continued to paint part of the stairway, the rest of the dining room and the lower part of the living room desert painted sand. I am not throwing away money and time to start with a new color. And you know what? It actually does not look that bad. The more we cover up the ugly white walls, the more we are comfortable with the color. As I slowly put things back on the walls and we move furniture in front of it, it is actually quite pleasant and cozy.

Or maybe I am in denial and we really are living in a pink house. Anyone want to buy a house in Loveland? It is full of character.

The Bubble

I just spent last week volunteering as a counselor at Camp Lambec without internet connection, air-conditioning, a comfortable bed and with terrible cell phone reception.

It was awesome.

There is something so blissful about being away from technology for awhile. If there was an emergency, someone could have gotten a hold of me. But, to not daily check my email, facebook, the news and whatever else I find myself surfing toward was simply lovely. It was a content little bubble that I was living in for seven days.

Now, back to reality.

In the real world, it is much harder to just be still and know God. Instead of hearing the wind blowing through the trees and the waves crashing on the beach, I hear the hum of the air-conditioner and the sound of the appliances running. In place of deep discussions in Bible study with the oldest campers, I find myself constantly interrupted by my small children (seriously, I have had to break up three fights in the course of writing this post).

Perhaps that is part of the magic to camp. We can constantly be surrounded by opportunities to grow, reflect, learn, and feel like we are doing something important. In reality, we are just like everyone else and life just keeps on moving at its typical, fast pace.

As much as I love the bubble, I am also grateful to be home. Not just because the air-conditioning has brought back my ankles that disappeared at camp thanks to the heat and constant walking (pregnancy is fun), but because of these little creatures that are currently driving me crazy.

I may not feel like I am doing something important in my daily life, but I know I am where I am supposed to be right now. I might not get thank-you notes from my kids for my time spent with them, or see an immediate result of my love and sacrifice, but it is always worth it. I will take them over the bubble any day.

Kid Quotes

I will be volunteering as a counselor at Camp Lambec for the week without internet connection, so all of you readers (all three of you) will be without my thoughts for awhile. In the meantime, let me leave you with a couple of fun quotes from the kids...

-The other day, Abby woke up in the morning, came downstairs and said, "I was in my room praying because I just felt the need to pray this morning before I started my day."

Funny. I started that particular morning by checking my email and facebook account. Okay God, you made Your point.

-Ever since Caleb was a newborn, he has slept with his lovey. It is a little blanket with a bear head that is really soft and cuddly. The lovey's name? Lovey.

My son is pretty creative.

The other day he was wandering around the house looking for something. He frantically told me, "I'm looking for Lovey. He's my whole life! He is my family-I'm the dad."

His whole life, huh? Wow. I have heard of kids and their blankets, but never to this extreme. No wonder he likes the Linus character on Charlie Brown.

Due Date

This coming weekend brings mixed emotions. July 10th is when we head up to camp to work as counselors (which is always a highlight of my year), but it is also our due date for our precious baby that we lost. While I spend my week getting everything caught up and ready for our departure, I am painfully reminded that I would have been readying myself for something quite different.

I know our child only existed here for a short time, but I still wonder what he or she would have been like. Would he have entered the world in a painful and adventurous way like Abby did or in a calm and prepared way that Caleb came? Would she have been as competitive as her older sister and brother (and father and mother) or would she have brought a sane balance to the family? Would he have resembled his siblings with the blond hair and blue eyes or have come with some random traits from distant relatives? Would she have been another daddy's little girl or would he have been another precious boy for his parents to love?

Someday we will meet this little one. I have no idea how it will be-will our baby still be a baby, or a child or perhaps a grown-up? No matter, for the comfort I have is right now, our baby is in the presence of Jesus which is where our longing ultimately is. We will be together someday. Our little family will be together with our Savior and all will be as it should be.