It only takes a moment

A mother rises early to pack lunches and fix breakfast. At the usual time she enters the room her sons' share and gently tries to rouse them with rubs on the back, questions about the school day ahead, and reminders of the afternoon plans. The boys grunt at her and swat her away as if she is just an annoying fly. She leaves the room allowing them another moments rest while she finishes breakfast. She returns to the room a little more firm with her request for them to rise, instructing them to put on an outer layer as the air has a slight chill to it this morning. She finally sees the slow movement of the young bodies making their way out from under their coverings and she heads back to the kitchen. After a few more calls up to the room, each becoming a little less sweet, the two boys eventually emerge. Only one has heeded the remarks of the extra layer, the other shivers dressed only in a thin t-shirt and shorts. As they make their way to the table to consume their breakfast (which luckily today they both seem to be content with) the mother tells the shivering son to return to his room after he eats for a sweatshirt. After the boys have finished their meal they drop into chairs near the kitchen with no suggestion that they intend to finish their preparations for school. Mustering her patience she reminds them that the bus will arrive shortly and they need to brush their teeth, comb their hair, and wash their faces. The oldest slowly makes his way into the bathroom only to exit moments later, the front of his hair wet and slicked while the back looks like a rooster's comb. The mother asks "Did you brush your teeth?" He grunts and returns to the bathroom. A second time he appears with the face wash complaining that the pump isn't working. As his father fixes the pump his mother again asks, "Did you brush your teeth yet?" Another grunt and the child once again  returns to the bathroom. Meanwhile the younger brother continues to lounge in the chair. His mother suggests that he could be gathering his things, finding his shoes, and putting his lunch up. His response "But I haven't brushed my teeth yet." The mother with less suggestion and more command in her voice repeats the earlier statement about preparing his things. Just as he grudgingly rises from the chair the bathroom becomes available and he rushes in. Finally after several tips about combing and cleanliness both boys are properly groomed (or at least appear to be) and the mother once again begins the request to ready their backpacks and get their shoes. The boys saunter around the home searching for their homework  trying to recall where they placed it after it was finished the afternoon before, causally looking for shoes, fighting, laughing and joking with each other during the process. As the minutes tick by the mother's impatience grows and her tone of voice with each reminder becomes more harsh. Then the moment arrives: backpacks are on their backs, shoes are on and kind of tied, and lunches are in hand. The mother with what gentleness she has left wishes them a good day and kisses them on the head as she see the bus coming up the street. Just then the youngest says "Can you fix me a snack for the afternoon snack time?" The mom's answer is short, compassion-less "No I don't have time now." And just as the bus pulls to a stop in front of the house he turns and looks at her with the eyes of one being sent into battle without rations.  The mother sighs and knows that because of this moment there will be no mother-of-the-year nomination today.

Did You Ever Wonder.......?

I am always entertained by the conversations my kids have. Some are intriguing and make me wonder what's going on in their little minds, others make me realize how carefully I have to choose my words, and still others make me rethink some of the things I have always taken for granted or quit questioning years ago. Today my three youngest had the kind of conversation that made me wonder why I had never thought to ask those questions. It went something like this:

Lil K(5yrs) "What were Adam and Eve like when they were kids?"
C (8yrs) "They were never kids. God made them."
Lil K "Yeah I know God made everyone, but what were they like before they were big."
Lil B (3yrs) singing in the back ground "God made everyone, even the scary people"
C "They were always big, right mom?"
Me "Yes God made them as man and woman?"
Lil K "Yeah but what were they like when they were little?"
Me "They were never little honey, God made Adam as a grown man and then made Eve from Adam's rib."
Lil B still singing (to his own tune) "God made everyone, God made everyone," repeated again and again and again.....
C "So did Adam limp around for the rest of his life?"
Me "What??"
C "Well if he was missing a rib, don't you think he limped around after that?"
Me "I would think God healed him."
Lil K "So how many body parts could he live with out?"
Me *sigh*
Lil K "Let's talk about another bible story I have questions about."
C "Is Easter the day Jesus died?"
Me "No it's the ..." Lil K pipes up "The day he ROSE!"
Me "Yes that's right"
C "So he rose on April 8"
Me "No Easter is based on a different calender but it's always on a Sunday."
Lil B cries out from the back "No it's the day he died, the day he died, THE DAY HE DIED..."
Me "No honey it's not, it's..."
Lil K "Mom can't you drop it, he's only 3 years old. Now let's talk about Noah's ark. Did God tell Noah to build the ark on a Tuesday?"

Kind of makes you look at those biblical stories a little differently doesn't it?

Am I doing this right?

As a mother (parent) I often wonder if I'm doing this job right. Sure I provide food, shelter, and clothing for my kids. Some of their wants are met and they are being educated. But what about the rest of it. Am I teaching them to be good members of society. Am I truly helping them to learn compassion for others and a sense of social responsibility. Have I shown them what a Christian life looks like.

Most of the time I think I haven't had much success. Especially when they are tearing through the house screaming at each other and trying to cause someone physical harm. Or when they throw their stuff all over the house with little concern as to the effect it will have on those who have to clean up after them. Their constant complaints that it's not fair, I never get what I want, I always have to do everything. The tattle-tailing and continuous efforts to get another in trouble. The endless demands for clean clothes, snacks, and material goods sometimes make me feel that somewhere I've gone wrong. Somewhere I've made a terrible mistake and am raising a group of loud, selfish people who will do little to contribute to the world.

And then it happens.......

An older brother sees little sister struggling to get in the car and gently offers to help her.
One sibling offers to prepare breakfast for another before he/she gets their own.
A sister cries over the mistreatment of her brother by others.
The five playing together which such cohesiveness it's like the rest of the world doesn't exist.
A child cleaning up the kitchen without be told.
The effort one goes to in order to purchase or make a Christmas gift for each member of the family without requesting money from mom or dad.
An older sibling reading to a younger sibling.
Prayers of thanksgiving for each member of the family and for our Savior.
An offer from a brother to use his tickets to get something for his younger siblings.
A thank you to me for making dinner.
True concern expressed by a child for their grandparent, friend or sibling.
Seeing your child truly worship God.


Theses are the little moments that happen, sometimes not as often as I like, but they do happen, that assure me that my husband and I must be doing something right. These are the times I hold onto during the chaos. At those moments I see glimmers of the men and women my children will become and my heart swells.

Train up a child in the way he should go, And even when he is old he will not depart from it.
Proverbs 22:6

Rest Stop Tidbits

It never seems to fail that when we're on a road trip the kids always manage to need to make a bathroom stop when it's least convenient. Tonight was another one of those times.

Since we had a day off school and babysitting I decided it would be fun to throw the kids in the car and spend the day at my mom's. It's a little over two hours there and amazingly enough it always requires at least one pit stop. Of course on the way there this morning it was no big deal. We pulled over to a busy McDonald's, ran in, used the facilities, got a drink and were on our way.

After a busy day of shopping, crafting, and eating, the kids and I hopped back in the car to make the return trip. We were leaving at dusk and as darkness rolled over us we drove along the highway playing games, listening to music, and a Veggie Tale story (which my older daughter and I both noted we now can say word for word). We were about an hour and fifteen minutes into the trip and passing the last exit available for the next 10-15 min when all three of my boys began the potty squirm. I had two options: pull over at the rest stop I could see the sign for or suggest they pee in a cup. Though I really didn't want to go to the rest stop as I have never liked them. It seemed like every time we stopped at one when I was a kid they were always dirty, crowded, and there were never enough stalls. So as an adult I have tried to avoid them at all costs. But I envisioned the next few weeks of finding cups filled with pee all over the house because my 3yr old would see this as a new game instead of a one time thing. So I put on my blinker and pulled over onto the ramp. As we pull up in the lot there is one lonely car that looks as though it had been there awhile and around back several trucks.

We all get out and head into the welcome center. Now I realize that I can be a little over protective but I have always hated letting my older kids head into a public bathroom without an adult. In most cases I usually relent keeping a careful eye on the door for their return and knowing that if they're gone too long I won't hesitate to walk into to see why, even if it's the mens bathroom. Luckily I have never had to do that. This time however there was no way I was letting the boy's head into that bathroom on their own. As we were walking into the lobby I wondered how I was going to coax my 8 and 10 yr old boys to go with me into the women's when luck would have it there were family bathrooms right out in the lobby.  (This by the way was the nicest rest stop I have ever been too.) I had the three older kids use one of those restrooms and keep watch over each other as I took the little two into the women's restroom.
Of course being a recently updated facility everything there was automatic. First we tackled the toilet. Now please keep in mind that my 3yr old has recently developed a fear of the flushing sound a toilet makes. So as he trying to go the toilet flushes and he comes running out of the stall with his hands over his ears and his pants around his ankles. My 5yr old on the other hand is sitting on the pot and for whatever reason the toilet keeps flushing sending her into a round of giggles with each whoosh. Then came the sinks, it always takes these two forever to find the just the right spot to hold their hands to get the water running. I would get one in the right spot turn to the other and then have to turn back to the first because his tiny little hand had moved an 1/8 of a centimeter. And of course each time the water turns on the two of them erupt in laughter. Why? I don't know.  Now it's time to dry and being an earth friendly facility the only drying option is the Excel dryers. Have you come across these wind tunnels yet? I have know idea how fast the air is moving that comes out of them but it's enough to make my skin look as if it's being pushed off my hands. Now imagine being a tiny little 30 pound child. It hits their hands hard enough to almost knock them over and again the giggles burst out. But it's not enough to stick their hands under there just once they want to do it over and over again. (some how this does not seem to be energy saving to me).

We finally make it out rejoin the other three and begin our our way out the door. And my 8yr old asks rather loudly "Why couldn't we go in the mens bathroom? Is it because you don't trust the people here?" Just then a truck driver walks out of the vending area. And I wondered if he found humor in the giggles rolling out of the women's bathroom and  hoped he wasn't offended by my son's question. But instead saw my move for what it was; the only way I could be comfortable in a mostly deserted rest stop.

The Cup

I often find that one of the greatest challenges of motherhood is the doctor's office. I rarely get to go with just one child, there is almost always some sort of drama in the office, and many times the treatments that come from the appointment create a whole new challenge at home.  Friday was an experience I had not yet had though.

I have been lucky in that none of my children are afraid of going to the doctor. They really like their doctors and nurses and of course look forward to the sticker they get to choose at the end of the appointment. So when I told my 5yr old daughter she had a doctors appointment that morning she was not worried or apprehensive. She simply asked if she was going to have to get a shot. I assured that was not part of the plan and so she willing dressed and got ready to go. Now like I said before I rarely get to go with just one child. On this particular morning I had my 5yr old, my 3 yr old son, and the 10 month old that I babysit. So we packed in the car and headed out. Once we arrived Lil K confirmed that there was not to be a shot and happily strolled into the office. We did have to wait a little longer than usual but the kids were well occupied by the waiting room TV and the baby was entertained by the 2 year old boy who was giddy about the fish tank. Eventually we received the call to come back, I quickly gathered up all the belongings the kids had in such a short time manged to drop all over the waiting room and head back for Lil K's exam. Now the reason for our visit was that she was experiencing symptoms of a UTI. So the nurse immediately handed me a cup and said we'll need a urine sample. Having anticipated this moment I had given Lil K a bottle of water before heading to the office so I thought "this will be easy." (I should never have those thoughts.) The nurse was kind enough to keep an eye on the two boys while I enter the bathroom with Lil K in tow. We spent about 5 min in the bathroom and there was nothing. She just kept saying "but I don't need to go." I decided to wait until after visiting with the doctor and we could try again.  We went back to the exam room where Lil B and "I" were waiting and sat down. Within moments the doctor appeared. We discussed Lil K's symptoms and she agreed that it sounded like a UTI. Of course she would need the urine sample to confirm. She suggested that  we get Lil K some water and graciously offered to let us stay as long as needed to get the sample. By this point though, it's almost lunchtime, the baby (who had not yet had his morning nap) is no longer entertained by my singing or games of peek-a-boo, and Lil B is becoming harder and harder to distract from the spinning stool, rolling step stool, and the medical instruments on the counter. But I did want to get this taken care of so I think we'll wait 15 minutes.

Just moments after the doctor leaves Lil K jumps down from the exam table and says "I think I have to go potty." I open the door to grab a nurse for the boys, but there's none to be found. So I quickly round the three up (luckily I had thought to bring a stroller, something I had forgotten on previous visits) and make our way to the bathroom. When we get in there Lill K is bouncing around like she's going to burst at any moment.  I prep her and get set and NOTHING. She just sits there. Then says she's not sure she does have to go now. "WHAT?" I insist that she sit a moment longer, meanwhile Lil B suddenly starts doing the pee pee dance and crying "I have to go potty, I have to go potty!" and the baby is exercising his vocal cords. (I'm sure people walking by the bathroom were wondering what was going on in there.)  Lil K says "I think I can do it!" and squeezes her eyes shut and low and behold 5 little drops come out. (Sigh) I remove her from the toilet, put Lil B on and of course he could have filled two cups. We clean up and leave the bathroom carrying our sad little sample. I hand it to the nurse (which now there are 5 sitting at the desk that was vacant just moments ago) and she laughs and says "it's at least enough to do an office test, we'll just have to get more for the culture."

After the office test it's clear she does have a UTI but again we still need the culture. The nurse returns with a plastic bag containing a cup and instructions for our "at-home" sample. She tells me to drop it off anytime this evening, the office is also an immediate care and will be open until 8pm. I bundle up the kids and proceed with the rest of our day.. After lunch I drop my daughter off at preschool. When I return to pick her up 2 1/2 hours later she jumps in the car and says "I couldn't wait mom, I had to go." I'm thinking what is she talking about.  And then she says "they didn't have a cup at school." OH! Somewhere in our communication she had understood that the very next time she went to the bathroom she must use a cup. Now I don't know if she asked for a cup but I'm feeling bad for the teacher if Lil K was trying to explain why she needed a cup to go to the bathroom. I explained to her that it was ok we would take care of it when we got home. As we're driving home she says "I have to go to the bathroom really bad." Great we're 3 mins from the house and I'm going to miss this opportunity because we're in the car."HOLD ON!"  As soon as we pull in the garage we fly out of the car and into the bathroom. I prep her while she's dancing and squirming, get the cup and Yeah! Success!. Pop the sample in the fridge and now I can get on with my day and Lil K can quit worrying about peeing in a cup. Or so I think. A little while later we set down for an early dinner before our evening activities begin. In the middle of the meal Lil K asks "I need to go potty, do you want to get the cup?" Clearly I hadn't gotten across that we only had to do that once.

Later I get my two older boys ready to go to their basketball practice, I grab the sample from the fridge, toss it in the car and we drive off. As we're rolling down the road B (10yr old) picks up the bag with the sample and says "What's this?" "Your sisters pee," I reply. He quickly puts it down while C (8yr old) hollers from the back of the car "Let me see, I want to see it." ?Boys?

We run over to the doctors office and I run the sample up to the front desk. I explain to the woman at the desk what I have and the instructions I was given all while she's looking at me like my head is spinning and I'm spitting pea soup. She carefully picks up the bag and says she'll see if anyone is still back there but "no I can not leave the sample at the desk." Seriously? Even though it's after 5pm there a couple of nurses are still in the peds area and happily accept the sample we worked so hard for. Thank goodness. Now we just wait for the results.

Jealous Much

I know that I am very lucky to have a mother who is so involved with my children. I know that I am lucky that my children love and adore my mother and want to spend time with her. But I have to say sometimes I am a little jealous of her. If my mother calls and invites them to her house their bags are packed and they are waiting by the door before she even gets off the phone. They think nothing of jumping in the car with her and heading the 2 hours to her house with barely a kiss or an "I love you" to me. Even the youngest two love to be with her so much that they talk from the time they get back from one trip to the time the next trip comes about how they can't wait to go to Grandma's.

This past weekend was no different. My mother came in on Friday to spend the day, watch the kids that evening so Roy and I could have an evening out (we usually only get one when she's in town) and then leave the next afternoon after lunch. All was going well until she said she was ready to pack her car and head home. Lil B (3) wanted to go with her, mom couldn't resist. Of course you can imagine with five children I rarely turn down an opportunity to send one off for a day or two (for their sanity and mine) so I agreed and began packing his bag. Immediately Lil K (5) decided that she too should be going with Grandma. Unfortunately  she had school on Wednesday and Mom wasn't planning to bring Lil B back until Saturday. So the answer was no, but I reminded her she could go another time and that it meant she got to spend New Year's Eve with ME. Her face dropped to floor, her eyes began to well, and her voice to crack as she said "ok." In seconds she was in full throttle sob. You know the kind where they can't breathe and even after they are done  they are still choking in the air as if it could begin all over again. She ran to her bed, climbed the ladder and lay there sobbing for the whole house to hear. This was more than my mom could bear.  She came to me with a plan to meet me on Monday at our favorite meeting point just between our homes. As sobs drifted through the house I told mom not to worry, Lil K would get over it. But the heartbreaking sounds were too painful to endure and so I relented, packed her a bag and sent my two youngest home with their beloved Grandmother.

Two days later I packed the other three kids in the car and forged through the 1/2 inch of snow Indianapolis had received that day causing a ridiculous number of car accidents one of which we got stuck behind turning our forty-five minute drive into an hour an fifteen minutes. We finally arrived at the designated location and happened to pull in at the exact same moment as Mom and the little ones. I look through the window of the car and Lil K is waving excitedly at me, Lil B sound asleep. I open the door to help them out and he wakes up. His eyes flutter and try to focus, he suddenly realizes it's me and not Grandma (we look alot a like so sleepy eyes sometimes confuse the two at first), screams begin pouring out of his mouth "I don't want to go home yet! I wanted to stay long time! I don't want to go home."  After quickly assuring him we weren't going home right then, but going into the restaurant to have lunch WITH GRANDMA, he calmed down. There were no hugs or kisses for me, no "I missed you." He just trotted behind Mom into the restaurant to get his milkshake.


Lunch went smoothly (well as smoothly as it can with five kids) and then it was time to load up and make the trip to our house. I put off the inevitable as long as I could, letting the kids stay inside with Mom while I switched the car seats around, put suitcases in the trunk, and collected up the various travel entertainment the kids had brought with them. And then it was time. I put Lil B in his seat and at first it seemed all was well but then the tears began to fall. "I want to go with Grandma, I want to stay long time." I quickly hurried the others in the car hoping that the faster we got moving the sooner he's cries of woe would stop, plus it was really cold out and I wanted to get in the car with the heater. With a quick hug and a thank you to Mom we were off, Lil B still crying. I promised over and over that he could go again soon and that Grandma would be over to visit before long. Eventually his crying ceased. After a few moments of silence in his sad little voice he said "You take me to see Mrs Ellis now." Great! He'd rather see my neighbor than go home with me. Guess I'll have to be a little jealous of her too, now. I won't even mention how excited he was to see the dog.

To Sew or Not to Sew

Around November 28 or 29 every year I get this great desire to make a gift for someone. Usually I've run across some Christmas gift idea or I have unearthed a project I started months (sometimes even years) ago and I become convinced that I can make this item before Christmas.  Sometimes they are simple items like a scarf or a small quilt and sometimes they're not. This year was no different. While scanning Pinterest one afternoon I happened upon a sweater quilt. It was beautiful. Made from old wool sweaters, felted and cut into large blocks, sewn together into a soft,cozy looking quilt. I had been wanting to make a quilt for my oldest niece for years but never seemed to find a pattern or style that I liked for her. But this was it! I read through the blog with the "easy" to follow instructions and within hours found myself at Goodwill stock piling wool sweaters.

Now coming from a line of fabulous seamstresses and quilters one might believe that I had inherited a gift for sewing. One would be wrong. My grandmother was always able to whip up beautiful dresses, lovely summer outfits, and gorgeous quilts. My mother could take any bolt of material and turn it into a fantastic pageant dress, amazing prom dress or heart stopping wedding gown. She evened owned a custom bridal shop for a while and produced a  number of the prom gowns that paraded through my high school prom.She could also pick up a pile of scraps and in a matter of days have a quilt to be cherished for a lifetime. I however had received none of this talent. For one I can't cut a straight line. Never have been able to, even with the use of tools that are guaranteed to produce a straight cut. For another, I have never mastered the sewing machine. I have always had the desire to use one, I even own one but in most cases allowing a monkey to use it would produce about the same results. Nonetheless I always get a stirring for creating some work of art using the sewing machine. ( I can piece and sew by hand but not really an option when you are trying to produce a quilt in less than 15 days.)

And so as soon as I gathered the sweaters I liked best I raced home to felt them. So far all was going well. The next day I cut out patterns for the block sizes I needed and quickly began cutting the sweaters to pieces. Before long a large stack of sweater blocks adorned my table. The quilt would be a mix of large solid blocks and large blocks made of 4 smaller blocks so first I needed to sew the smaller blocks together. So out comes the sewing machine (which by the way had been at my sister-in-laws for 2 years and I can't find the instructions for). In order to sew I first have to fill a bobbin and then thread it. So I pop the bobbin on, the spool of thread goes flying through the air, then the bobbin ends up in a tangle and after about 8 times of trying to get it to wind, finally I'm successful. Then I go to put the bobbin in the little thing that holds  it and guess what; It doesn't fit. Somehow there are three bobbins in the my stuff that do not fit the bobbin thingy. Time to wind a new bobbin. Next comes threading the machine. Not as easy as it sounds when you only use a machine every year or so and not having instructions is definitely a handicap, since to thread a machine takes a complicated pattern of up down and round several little metal objects and the correct order is very important. It takes several attempts but I remember just enough that I finally get it. But of course there is still the trial run to be done to ensure that everything is set up correctly. I grab a scrap of material and to my great surprise it all works wonderfully.

So I grab my first two small blocks. Now you might remember that I can not cut a straight line so in fact my squares are not technically squares. And if one can not cut a straight line I'm sure you are wondering how one sews a straight line. She doesn't. But that does not stop me. I quickly sew up 3 large blocks from the smaller blocks but low-and-behold on block number 4 the sweater material in this block is much thicker than in other the other blocks and machine just sticks. By this point it's late a night and I figure it best to head to bed and tackle this problem in the morning.

The next day I sit down at my sewing machine refreshed and ready to go. I grab that block that was giving me problems before and begin working with it. Again the machine just sits there. I'm pressing the foot, the motor is humming but the material is not moving. I jerk on the block and suddenly it pops through under the foot, only when I turn it over, instead of a beautiful nice stitch there is a mess of thread on the back of my block. I pull it all out and try again. Same thing. After a couple of more tries, re-threaded the bobbin a few times and a call to my mother I finally figure out that needle is no longer threaded correctly. I re-thread the needle and try again. A few stitches into the block suddenly I realize there are no stitches happening anywhere. The bobbin has run out. Re-load the bobbin and now I have to try to thread it again and 20 min later we're back  in business. I sew a few more squares together and the needle breaks. Replace the needle, start again, the spool runs out. I find a new spool of thread, get it threaded (I'm starting to get pretty good at that) and back to work. Then the foot falls off (if you aren't familiar with a sewing machine this is the little piece that holds the fabric down and pushes it through the machine).  I fix the foot, making sure it's tight. Of course by now it's time to get back to the business of running my household, so I put everything away to tackle again later.

The next few attempts go better and I eventually get the top of the quilt finished. Now to put the back on. Now let's review. I can't cut a straight line, I don't really sew a straight line so when I lay the top out on the back it's not anywhere close to straight. When I ask my Mom's advice she says "Just square the back and it will look fine." Yeah right. So I do my best to square the back and attach it. Just in time to bind it on Christmas Eve. I chose a quick closed blanket stitch and by 3 am I'm done. The finished product wasn't too bad, a little crooked and I've got my fingers crossed that it won't fall apart, but finished. All the work and complications were definitely worth it when I received a grateful thank you from my niece.

And now arise the questions, do I have so much trouble with my machine because I only use it once a year or do I only use it once a year because I struggle so much? As of now I think I'll put the machine away, being sure to put the instructions with it which I happened to find as I was cleaning up from Christmas. Maybe I pull it out again soon or maybe next November I'll get the itch to make something new and the fun will start all over again.

Finished product - one square has a pocket and a couple have buttons. Not too shabby!