Mommy Has to Have an MRI

I had to try to explain to my son (my daughter, too, but I’m not sure she was really listening) why I couldn’t go to a program at his school the other day.

“Mommy has to go have a test done.”

“What kind of test?”

“It’s called an MRI.  They are going to take pictures of my brain.”


Then I fumbled over my words, trying to pick the best ones, to explain about my pituitary tumor.  I have a non-secreting adenoma or null cell adenoma.  I highly recommend this type of tumor.  It doesn’t secrete hormones into my body, so I can’t blame mood swings on it (just kidding), and it is not cancerous. These types of tumors are slow growing.  I’ve had two surgeries in the last 11 years, but there is no way to remove all of the tumor.  So, I have to get my “head checked” once a year.

While I was trying to explain this in kid terms to my son, I realized how hard it must be for those who are facing a terminal illness or serious illness.  How do they help kids fill in the blanks other than, “Mommy’s sick”?

I still don’t think he completely understands, but, as with anything I try to teach, I need to remember to keep it simple and be ready for questions later.

PBS. . .seriously?

I was watching a part of Sid the Science Kid; a show my kiddos like to watch.  The entire episode was devoted to talking about the flu virus, specifically H1N1.  I was amazed at the depth of information this show was providing my son (my daughter was still asleep at the time).

PLEASE don’t get me wrong, I think it’s important to be vaccinated (my kids both were recently).  It made me think, what else could our “children’s” shows teach?

PBS is funded “in part” by a US grant given to them by our government.  Would the government then step in and tell them what they can and cannot have on the station?

It takes my breath away when I watch how some countries are “poisoning” their children.  Teaching them to hate and to kill, long before they need to worry of such things.

Is our country THAT far behind them?

I’m not so sure. . .

The Purpose

I read a familiar story to my children tonight.  It’s a book by Max Lucado and it’s called, “Just the Way You Are”.  It tells the tale of five orphaned children who the king decides to adopt.  They are told by the townspeople that they have to have a special gift or talent to impress the king to be accepted.  Four of the children become very busy trying to make themselves “more accepted” for the king.  It gets so bad that when the youngest child asks for help, they all tell her to go away.  The youngest doesn’t feel as though she has any gift or talent, she can only offer her heart.  The king arrives to get the children and take them with him, but four are much too busy.  They don’t recognize him as the king because he doesn’t look like a “kingly” sort of person.  He’s just dressed in merchant’s clothes.  The youngest of the children spends some time speaking with the man, not knowing he is the king, and this is not unusual for her because this is how she spends her days.  Caring for people, wanting to do things for them to help earn money for her family.  The king reveals himself to the young girl and explains that her siblings will not be coming with him “for now” and that the young girl will become a child of the king.

I love this book because I think it illustrates exactly how God sees us.  He has given each of us talents and abilities, but He wants us to use them to serve Him and others in His name.

My son asked me when he would be a child of the King.  I know my son has heard the “plan of salvation” many times, but I’m not sure he understands quite yet.  I told him that the more he understands God, he’ll understand what it means to be His child.

My daughter said she didn’t want to be a child of the King.  I think she believes someone will take her away.  I explained to her that both her and her brother are gifts from God and I only have a short time with them.  Their purpose is to become a child of the King.  Of course, my daughter still insisted that she did not want to .. but I reassured her that this would be something that would happen when she is much older.  She seemed to handle the news better.

Our purpose is not to become the greatest at sports, our job, our parenting or even in serving others.  Our purpose, the reason God created us, is to bring glory to Himself.

“Thou art worthy, O Lord, to receive glory and honour and power:  for thou hast created all things, and for thy pleasure they are and were created.”  -Revelation 4:11

Do you know what it’s like to be a child of the King?  If not, I’d love to introduce you to my Father.. . .

Our family is so blessed by God.  For my children, that blessing includes lots of toys to play with.  I try to keep up with the “purging” of toys, especially when it gets close to birthdays or Christmas.

I just went through our pantry and did a little purging today.  It’s amazing how I don’t want to throw away food, but when my family won’t eat it, I’m not using it anyway.  Two things that I had been hanging on to, for probably close to two years, got the “boot”.  One was a pasta that is shaped like letters.  It was on sale, my kids at the time didn’t eat any kind of pasta, and so I bought it.  The other item was another pasta (bought for the same reasons as just listed) and it was shaped like stars.  Both pastas are small in nature, but no matter how I prepared them my children wouldn’t eat it.  When under force they did, but who wants to fight over pasta shapes?  Not me.

After I had gotten everything cleaned up in the pantry, I started to clean off the kitchen table.  I had used the table to put everything on so I could sort it out and then put it back in a more orderly fashion.  I started to wipe away tiny letters and stars and my son became fascinated.  He asked me what I had, I explained it was pasta, he said he wanted some.  I reminded him that I had tried to feed them this type of pasta before and they wouldn’t eat it.  My son practically begged me for the pasta, and I explained it wasn’t cooked (and furthermore the rest was in the trash).

It’s amazing what we want.. only when it’s no longer around.  I so wanted a juicer.  I only used it a handful of times and after hanging on to it for a couple of years, sold it.  Now I come across all kinds of recipes for juice.  The irony of it all.

True Friend

I’d like to introduce you to an old friend of the family. . .

ted e

This is my son’s bear.  He has been his bear ever since my son was an infant.  When my son was little, ted-e was his pillow.  A few years went by, and then my son stopped sleeping with Ted-e.

After a few months, with no thought of the bear, my son one night was crying in bed.  When I went to check on him he was very upset because Ted-e was not in bed.  I picked up the bear from his resting spot, tucked away with the other stuffed animals on the floor, and gave him to my little boy.

This morning I went to wake up my now six year old boy and I found him, arms wrapped tightly around Ted-e Bear’s neck in an adorable snuggle.  I so wished I had my camera.  Just as I tried to leave to get it, my son woke up.

My kiddos have grown up so quickly.  It feels quick, and yet sometimes it’s hard to imagine them so small.  I love so many things about my son that some kids have teased him about.  I hate that the world wants our children to grow up so quickly.  I hope Ted-e remains a part of our family for years… even if he needs a bit of a nose job.

Do I have to scream?

Man oh man.  I hate yelling at my kids (or anyone else)…so why do I do it?

Today we went to church and then came home to eat lunch.  Now our Sundays are completely crazy, nuts, nerve wracking.. word it however you want.  Compound that with the fact that my hubby was working (again).  So, I’m “alone” with two kiddos.

Here’s our schedule.. we go to church, come home (usually) and eat, put the princess down for a nap, our small group from church comes over, wake up the princess from her nap, go back to church for practice with the kids program myself and my husband are involved in.  Makes me tired just typing it.  We don’t usually get home until 7.  For us, seven is late to eat.

Today I decided to “plan” ahead.  When we were getting ready to leave this morning, I peeled and chopped my onion, potatoes, and carrots for the meal.  I forgot to get out the hamburger so it could thaw, but that’s why God invented microwaves, right?  So, once we get home I thaw out the hamburger, get it cooking, and start the potatoes boiling.  All this while I’m trying to straighten up my very messy kitchen and living room, feed my kiddos, and keep a shred of sanity.  Oh wait, and I was eating carrots and dip (“lunch”).

Needless to say, pressure was high and when my princess asked for help getting bites I became a little upset.  Then the second time she asked, four seconds later, and the third.  I had to go to the pantry three times to figure out why I was in the pantry in the first place.  BOOM.. I yelled.

I don’t know if anyone else is like this, but anger for me is like a volcano.  I can feel it slowly start up, just gurgling deep down, then it starts to bubble, then bigger and bigger and BOOM.

I notice the volcano tends to get stirred up more easily when I’m trying to do something and things aren’t going as planned.  Sometimes it’s when I don’t plan things out well, or expect too much of my kiddos.

Lots of verses swirl in my head.  Everything from what Paul talks about wanting to do what’s right and not doing it to the verses that James talks about controlling my tounge.

I’ve talked to others who struggle with their anger, and I really don’t feel a big connection with them.  Their kids are different ages than mine, or they struggle in so many other areas that the anger stuff is just one piece of the puzzle.  So, am I alone?  Does anyone else really feel this way too?

Momma’s Boy

I so hated it when people called my son that.  He’s now 6, and I don’t think he’s a momma’s boy.. I think he’s a sweet boy.  He loves people (almost too much .. says hi to strangers and is super outgoing) and he loves life.

With each of my children, once I wake them up in the morning we snuggle in my recliner for a bit before we get ready for the day.  I’m telling you.. this is my favorite time with them.  Most of the time they wake up at different times so I can have some alone time too.  This morning during my snuggle time with my son I had a flash back.


My baby.. so little, so adorable.

I always said (and I still believe it) I’ve enjoyed every stage of life with my son.  This morning he gave me a hug and then wanted me to rock him, and boom.. we traveled back in time over 5 years ago when I used to rock him all the time.

Our kids grow up so fast… please don’t waste one second to tell them how fearfully and wonderfully God has made them and how much He loves them.  While you’re at it, don’t forget to tell them how much you love them too.. . .

Out of Ideas

Another bad report from the teacher on my first grader.  He had a rough week last week, and we are having a mini-repeat this week.  I was out of ideas.

He’s such a wonderful, precious gift from God; but he’s struggling to focus and not try to get the attention of his peers.

We implemented several things disciplinary wise last week into this week, but I feared something wasn’t working.

After a good talk with some friends, we are going to “stay the course” (sorry to use that phrase, since I’m not sure that’s what we should have done in the war effort, but I digress..).

I thought we would see better progress this week, but I guess I’m impatient.

I got a note this morning from one of those friends that was a big encouragement.  It’s so “funny” how God uses your own words to whack you in the head when you need it.

“Being confident of this very thing, that he which hath begun a good work in you will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ”  -Philippians 1:6

I love that verse because I know if God’s patience was like mine, I would have given up on me a LONG time ago.

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the LORD.  For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts.”  -Isaiah 55:8-9

I will do whatever it takes to help train up my child in the way he should go.  My hope is in the Lord.

Fight to the Finish

Ahh dinner time.  Not always my favorite time of the day.  Why won’t kids just try something new?  I know that I probably have my times where God asks the same thing of me.  Why won’t I just trust Him and step out on faith.. try something new?

Tonight’s meal was chicken casserole.  I didn’t even try to give them that, but I did make a small chicken breast for them and rice with green beans.  You would have thought I gave them brussel sprouts or spinach from a can.

My son doesn’t mind chicken, it’s not his favorite, but he’ll eventually eat it.  My daughter on the other hand does NOT want to try anything new.  She doesn’t like chicken, acts as though her life will end with every thought of it.  I can’t even tell her that we are having chicken or she starts to throw a fit.

I want to give up so many times, but I don’t.  I can’t.  I have to have them have at least one meal each week that they don’t really like.  I know it’s probably a phase and they’ll grow out of it, but I also know we messed up so much with our son.  He was almost five before we started making him eat what was in front of him.  The straw that broke the camel’s back was when we went out to a local pizza place and my husband stopped at the golden arches place to get him something he would like.  One of my close friends looked at me and told me we needed to stop.

I’m so glad we did.  My son still won’t gobble down every new thing in sight, but he now knows that if he doesn’t like it, he doesn’t have to eat all of it. . .but he has to try it.  He now eats pizza and hot dogs (believe me, this was a good thing) as well as pork chops.  Green beans, broccoli and raw carrots.  Progress.

So, needless to say the princess had to start early.  In the beginning, she had to eat or go to bed hungry.  Now she has to eat two to three bites of each thing to get down from the table.  If she wants to have something else, she has to eat it all (which usually is about 5 bites.. which is not much).

I dread these meal times as much as my kiddos.  I know they probably think I love to watch them “suffer”.  I hold fast to a verse an old friend quoted for me.  I actually have it on my fridge to remind me why I do what I do.

“Therefore, my beloved brethren, be ye stedfast, unmoveable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, forasmuch as ye know that your labour is not in vain in the Lord.”   -I Corinthians 15:58

Mean, Mean Mom

I say it, but I don’t mean it.. “I’m okay with being the bad guy, I do it all the time.”

Why do I always have to be the bad guy?

I knew that I pushed the kiddos a bit far today when shopping at a local craft store.  I made a couple of ear rings on a whim earlier in the week (beads on sale) and I wanted to go back and get more stuff before the sale ended today.  Sometimes I feel like I’m punished for trying to do something I want to do.  It took FOREVER to find stuff, mainly because I have no clue what I’m doing, so the kiddos were allowed to do a few things I normally don’t let them do.  Hey, no one was around.. who cares if they are in each other’s faces and my son is running down the isle?

The only problem is, you give them an inch, they take a few miles.  They both got so wound up that it was hard for me to gain control again.  I got out the “mean mom” voice.

I know from some advice I’ve had in the past that when I don’t deal with their bad behavior right away it just gets worse.  I knew I was pushing them being in one isle for so long (okay, technically two, but who’s counting?).

I hate being the bad guy.  My parents just recently visited us and although it was a good visit, I felt like I was the sheriff coming back into town when my husband and I got back from our weekend get-away.

My husband does help out, but he’s not as strict as I am on some issues and he’s not home a lot because of his schedule.

I guess I imagined motherhood being different.  I imagined me different.  I want to be different from my dad.. not loose my cool at the drop of a hat.  I want to be different than my mom.. too busy for anyone else but herself.  Different from my step mom.. wait until your father gets home (maybe that’s why hubby works so much, can’t say that in my house or they’d be waiting until midnight some nights!).

I could blame the media for showing us the wrong kinds of moms.  I could blame society as a whole, but where would that get me?  I don’t have to go far to see where the problem lies.  I choose to act the way I do.  Why?  I’m so reminded of the “woodchuck could chuck wood” verse that Paul states in Romans 7.

“For that which I do I allow not:  for what I would, that do I not; but what I hate, that do I.”  -Verse 15

“O wretched (wo)man that I am!  who shall deliver me from this body of death?  I thank God through Jesus Christ our Lord.  So then with the mind I myself serve the law of God; but with the flesh the law of sin.”  -Verse 24-25