I suppose there's always tomorrow

Jordan took Shaun's chair this afternoon. Rather, he got to Shaun's favorite chair before Shaun himself could sit down in it. And oh, the drama it caused. I really don't understand what the big deal is. I suspect they just make this mountain into a molehill to grate on each other's nerves. Not unlike the things I did to my own sister as a child.

Anyway, Shaun was bound and determined that he would not sit in any chair but his favorite recliner. And Jordan was bound and determined not to budge. I decided to sit back and see how the scene would play out. First, Shaun tried to demand Jordan to just move:

"Jordan. Dude. You're in my chair. Get out. Now."

Next he tried begging:

"Come on, Jordan. Please just let me have my chair. Please. Puh-lease. I'm begging. Please!

This was followed by the "Please Feel Sorry for Me" routine:

"Jordan. I sure wish I could have that chair. I need it so I can prop my knee up. It still hurts from when I fell over at Johnston's house. And its sore from skating today. It's very painful for me to sit in a regular chair. And the couch is uncomfortable. Can I please have my chair so my knee won't hurt so bad?

And then, since he was so convincing and he didn't resort to anything drastic, such as pinching or just flat out removing Jordan from the chair with force, I piped in with:

"Oh, come on, Jordan. Why don't you just let Shaunie have his chair? You can sit over here with me."

Of course, that didn't fly. So Shaun decided to give it once last try:

"Maybe one day my brother will be nice to me and give my chair back."

And Jordan responded with:

"Yeah. Maybe it'll be tomorrow."

"Couch School"

Usually, when the boys and I are having school, we split up. Sometimes I teach them at the same time. I put some praise music music on for "background noise", Shaun sits at the kitchen table, Jordan settles in at the school desk in the living room, and I go back and forth between them.

Or, we school separately. I'll work on the beginning sounds of letters with Jordan while Shaun has Xbox time. Or vice versa. I hardly ever allow them to work together at the same table. It just doesn't work for us. Instead of completing their work, Shaun will be busy kicking Jordan under the table. Or Jordan will distract Shaun by standing up in his chair. Or someone burps (or worse!) on purpose to cause fits of giggles in the other brother. Or...well. You get the picture. A task that would normally take fifteen minutes multiplies into thirty minutes when my boys are distracting each other. And we don't have time like that to waste.

But today was a crazy kind of day. Rainy and cold. I didn't feel well. So, against my better judgement, we had school on the couch. "Couch School". Because "variety is the spice of life" and all that.

I sat in the middle with a son on each side. And it actually worked out pretty well. We were actually able to complete everything that we were supposed to complete today. How often does that happen? Not very often. At least, not very often at our house!

Shaun even finished up his current math book. We'll be having a Math Party when he finishes his big Unit Test. He's requested pizza, chips, and dip to help us celebrate.

Here's a (bad quality iPhone) photo of him right after he completed the last problem in his book.

And here they are together at "Couch School". Doesn't Jordan look absolutely thrilled?

Yes, "Couch School" was a success. I don't think its something that we'll do every day, but most definitely a treat every now and then.

All Hyped Up

Ahhh. The hyperactive and/or strong-willed child. My children have made me an expert. That is, I'm an expert on recognizing the signs of said children. No way am I an expert on what to do with them! I've been down several roads of treatment with my oldest child, in search of a cure for his ADHD symptoms. I've medicated. Chosen to stop medication and just deal with the symptoms. We've changed diets. Declared food dyes to be The Devil. Declared stimulant medication to be The Devil. I've begged our doctors for medication and then flat out refused it at later visits. I've sang praises and thanked Jesus for the wonderfulness of stimulant medication and I've also called it The Devil.

I've never realized before just how often I refer to things as "The Devil".

You may have guessed by now that we, my husband and I, are at a standstill on what to do with these children God has blessed us with. More about that later. For now, I was just thinking back about our week and the crazy, zany, funny, things our children have done. All in the name of hyperactivity and strong-will.

As you will see, there's no doubt that my lovely ones have hyperactive minds of their own. And here's how I know.

You Know You Have Hyperactive and/or Strong-Willed Children When:

1. Your grandma buys you a copy of The Strong-Willed Child by Dr. James Dobson for your birthday.

2. You pick up your five year old from his class at church and his teacher says this to you:

"I was just trying to tell Jordan, and maybe you can help reinforce this to him, that its okay if he twirls during worship but that he really needs to stay on the carpet or the floor mat when he twirls. So he doesn't hurt himself if he falls. Its really okay if he twirls. I love that he's so exuberant in his worship. I just don't want him to get hurt."

Then you reply with:

"Did he obey you when you asked him to stay on the mat or the carpet?"

And teacher responds:

"Well...I could tell that he was really trying."

3. Your eleven year old has to flick, pinch, tap, kick, or swat his brother every single time he walks by. I mean, he really, truly must do this.

4. Both of your children must all the time be engaged in some kind of physical activity: running, jumping, dancing, wrestling, light saber fighting, karate chopping, etc. Again, they really, truly must do this.

5. At your son's eleven year check-up you burst into tears and cry to your child's pediatrician :

"Sniff. Sniff. Sob. I'm ready to....to....entertain the idea that maybe he needs to be on something to help him calm down just a little."

And then you proceed to spend one hundred bucks on a medication that doesn't work at all. Even though you swore on a stack of Bibles that you would never, never medicate your child for ADHD ever again. Ever.

6. Your five year old has an uncontrollable desire to climb on every single object he sees. Cars. Tables. Chairs. Parking lot signs. Play houses. The "outsides" of slides. Counter tops. Dressers. Its all fair game.

7. Your five year old's legs keep moving, as if he's running on air, when you snatch him up into your arms to stop him from running in Kroger.

8. When having a conversation with a friend in the noisy children's area at church, another friend wonders how you and your first friend can hear each other talk. You and first friend laugh and reply that this is the most quiet each of you has had all day. And then second friend quips:

"Ha ha! I guess so. You (referring to first friend) have about 15 kids? Right? (She was joking. First friend only has 7 children) I bet it IS loud at your house. And your two kids (referring to me this time) are about as loud as 15 kids. Ha ha ha!"

9. You comment to your husband that maybe its time for your oldest child to go back on some meds to help him calm down. And then, under your breath, you mutter:

"And Jordan's next!"

And you're only half-way joking.

10. You decided a long time ago to pick your battles with your children. And the battles you choose to let go are often the cause of raised eyebrows from strangers in the grocery store.

11. You begin having a constant internal debate with yourself. First, stating that God made your boys this way on purpose and that you really shouldn't try to squash their spirits. Second, stating that just a little squashing would be a fair price to pay for a little control.

12. You totally do not respect the personal space of the owner of your local vitamin store when you give her a bear hug upon learning that she sells homeopathic remedies for hyperactivity and impulse problems.

13. You buy 2 jars of said homeopathic remedies. One for each of your little angels. And consider getting one for your husband, too, because they inherited this from him in the first place.

14. You find yourself relating to and feeling sorry for Mark Lowry's mother.

15. You frequently comment to your husband how glad you are that your lives are never, ever boring.

And you actually mean it.

This one's for the girls...

I have a clique. A clique of chicks. Really, we're just a group of homeschooling moms who go to church together and have become kindred spirits...Bosom Buddies, if you will. We're all as different as night and day but somehow we all clicked and, over this past year, have become extremely close. There's no doubt in my mind that God brought these wonderful women to me just when I needed them the most.

We laugh together. Get together for Thursday night breaks. We've cried together, prayed together, worshiped together, decided to lose weight together. You get the picture. It really does seem as though we've been "together" for years and years. The Hubs began affectionally calling us "The Clique" and it stuck.

For the record, we're not a snobby clique. Anyone who loves Jesus and loves to laugh is welcome to join.

Anyway, this morning I was praying for my friends because praying for each other is one of the things we do best. As I lifted up each one of their needs to God it occurred to me that we are one seriously messed up group. I mean, really. In under a year we've gone through sickness, loss of children, legal battles, financial problems, depression, issues with our husbands, and heartbreaks over our children. And this is just the stuff we tell each other about!

Each time one of us has a crisis, we band together. We've never had to ask if we should do something. We automatically do it. We pray. Bring meals. Tell each other to get over ourselves and get to La Parilla even if we haven't showered and are wearing sweats! We've shopped for funeral clothes together, held prayer vigils, baby-sat each others' kids, stayed up all night long coloring each others hair, and confided secrets. We've seen each other at our best and worst. And we've made it out alive!

We've been singing this song at church a good bit lately. Its by Kari Jobe. It reminds me of us. In all that we've been through as a group and as individuals, (and we've been through a lot) God has been right there by our sides. He always has. He always will. He's faithful and constant...even when we fail ourselves or each other.

And so, this one is for my clique. I love you ladies and thank God for giving you to me.

You Are For Me
kari jobe


So faithful. So constant.
So loving and so true.
So powerful in all You do.

You fill me. You see me.
You know my every move
and You love for me to sing to You.

I know that You are for me.
I know that You are for me.
I know that You will never,
forsake me in my weaknesses

I know that You have come now,
even if to write upon my heart.
To remind me who You are.

So patient, So gracious,
So merciful and true…
So wonderful in all You do.
You know me. You see me.
You know my every move.
You love for me to sing to You

Lord, I know that You are for me.
I know that You are for me.
I know that You will never,
forsake me in my weaknesses.
I know that You have come now,
even if to write upon my heart.

To remind me that
I know that You are for me.
I know that You are for me.
I know that You will never,
forsake me in my weaknesses.
I know that You have come now,
even if to write upon my heart.
To remind me who You are.

I know that You are for me.
I know that You are for me.
I know that You will never,
forsake me in my weaknesses.
I know that You will come now,
even if to write upon my heart.
To remind me of who You are.

And now I have an 11 year old.

Yes, its true. We celebrated Shaun's eleventh birthday last week. It still sounds so strange to say it. He's eleven. He's grown so much in the past year. He's matured. He's grown spiritually. He's doing the best he's ever done in school.

He's trying to find his place, and so far its been interesting to watch.

I remember being 11...too old to be a baby and not old enough to be a teenager. Too old for some things and not old enough to do others. Tough times. I don't think I'd like to go back there! I can see a lot of my 11 year old self in Shaun. Some rebellion. Defiance. Uncomfortable in his skin. Just like his mama was!

My parents prayed me through my angst-ridden adolescence (Yes. I have an adolescent. And I have an in-take form from one of
Shaun's recent doctors appointments to prove it!) and my rebellious teenage years...and, eventually, everything clicked. I found my place in the world and became who I was meant to be. As will my precious, rambunctious, strong-willed, wonderfully sensitive, kindhearted child. I honestly get chills when I think about what God has in store for him.

Last week, on his birthday, Shaun slept late and then spent some "Call of Duty" time with his dad while I took my sister out for a birthday lunch...have I mentioned that Shaun was born on her 17th birthday? Later that night after church we met up with my parents, Chris' parents, and our friend Steven for a birthday dinner at Red Lobster where Shaun gleefully discovered that he is now too old to order from the kids' menu.

Goodness, my phone takes an awful picture!

We'll celebrate with friends next week with bowling and pizza.

Shaun- I can't believe how much you've grown in only a year. I wish I had just half of your determination. I love you so, but never forget that God loves you more.

On how we were blessed by a random stranger.

Unexpected blessings. My family and I have been on the receiving end of them lately. Does that sound as if I'm bragging? I certainly don't mean to...its just that I don't know any other way to say it than to just....well....say it.

And so I did. And we have been surprised with several unexpected blessings here of late. It all began two Saturdays ago. The kids and I were shopping for shoes. At least, we were shopping for Shaun some shoes. We were on the way to church that morning when he observed that his "very favorite shoes" were beginning to show some signs of wear and tear. In other words, one of his shoes had a hole in the sole. Yes, he has more than one pair of shoes, but this was his "very favorite" pair. The pair he's worn almost every day since July. So I decided he deserved another pair.

Into the shoe store we went. Straight back to the boys' section. While we were looking, Jordan happened across a pair of Yoda bedroom slippers. Of course, he tried them on and of course, he asked for them. And of course, I had to give him the old standby answer of "not today", which translates into "I'm so sorry honey, but your parents are kind of broke right now and really do not have twenty extra dollars to spend on bedroom slippers". I actually didn't feel too awfully bad about turning him down, as he had just gotten a new pair of shoes himself the week before. And he took the let-down very well. He asked if he could just please wear the slippers inside the store. So I said okay, hoping to get out of there quickly.

I was helping Shaun try on a pair of shoes when a woman walked by and began talking to Jordan, telling how cool those Yoda shoes were. My little Jordan just looked up at her and explained that we weren't getting them today. Just like that. Was I ever proud! No pouting, crying, or whining. The mystery woman smiled at me and asked Jordan if she could see the shoes. I agreed, telling him that she could put them back where they belonged. And, much to my surprise, Jordan handed over the shoes. I continued to help Shaun find a pair in his size and was getting ready to head to the check-out counter when mystery woman popped up beside us again, this time with a bag in her hand. A bag containing...the Yoda shoes. She gave the bag to Jordan, wished him a Happy Valentines Day, and skipped off to the back of the store where her children were waiting.

It took me a minute to realize what had happened. When I finally came to my senses, I told Jordan to go give her a hug. He jumped into her arms saying "thank you, thank you!" while I locked eyes with the sweet woman and mouthed the same thing. Then, we again made our way to the check-out counter where the cashier informed me that the whole store was having a sale: buy one pair, get another for half off. So we set off down the aisles again. The store had absolutely nothing in Jordan's size (besides Yoda shoes!) so I headed to my section. While I was browsing, mystery woman showed up again. Asked if she could talk to me and motioned for me to walk a few steps away from my kids. When we were alone, she pushed something in my hand and said:

"God told me to give this to you. Don't look at it. But I want you to take it and spend it on yourself. God told me that you need some encouragement. Bless you."

Of course I started to cry. I somehow managed to say "Thank you...I really did need some encouragement today". And, oh, how I did! I was coming out of a week that left a lot to be desired. Mystery woman blessed me one more time and then skipped away again.

I paid for our shoes and then went out to the car before I finally looked at what was in my hand. $100.

The kids and I prayed for this sweet woman of God right there in the parking lot. For God to bless her for blessing us. I had never seen her before, but I hope someday we meet again. I'd love to hug her neck and tell her exactly how much she did encourage me that day. Not only with the shoes and the money, but with her joy, which simply radiated off her. For allowing God to minister to me through her obedience.

I'll never, ever forget her and I pray that one day God will use me in the same way.

Doors

I've been on an emotional roller coaster ride this week. Elated to disappointed to down-right discouraged and now I've settled back into contentment.

My family and I were presented with an opportunity this week for something that we had been praying about for awhile. We were elated and excited with anticipation while waiting to see if it would work out. We prayed about this situation, my husband and I. I love to hear him pray. I love to hear my husband be blunt with God- no beating around the bush or trying to sugar-coat our needs or praises or prayer requests. One night last week, while in prayer over our family's future, Chris prayed for God's will to be done. For God to make His will known to us. For doors to be opened if we should move forward and for doors to be "slammed in our faces" if we should not.

And...just like that...today the door was, seemingly, slammed in our faces. In all honesty, we were a little let down when we heard the news. Or a lot. But then, as we were driving home and I was blinking back tears it occurred to me that God had, in fact, answered our prayer. I have to believe that He is protecting us...our finances, our children, our marriage. He knows what He's doing. And He really does know what's best for us.

So tonight, I'm resting in contentment and thanking God for closed doors.