5
June

Rock Star Love

Campbell, our three year-old, is not an eater. On some days I am really concerned about how little she has eaten, and now she has suspiciously developed a distaste for her vitamin too. So…, Chris and I have put some teeth into our “eat at mealtime” policy; her practice had become mealtime antics at the table and then play the “I’m hungry card” at naptime, bedtime, or any other opportune time. We have begun to withhold certain privileges (like books in the bed at naptime or bedtime) if she doesn’t eat. I know making rules about eating is a tricky thing, and we do not require she eat all of her food. We just expect her to take the opportunity to eat when a meal is provided. That’s probably our main battleground with her right now, so when she does eat well (and we have definitely seen some improvement) we pour on the praise. “Campbell is a rock star!” I must have gushed recently. Now, I’m sure she has no context for what a rock star is, but she is totally down with being one. Yesterday I asked her to give me a squeeze, and she said…

“I’m gone give you some rockstar love,”
and she clasped her arms around my neck and squeezed ever so sweetly.

I LOVE IT!!!!! That is one of the coolest things I have heard in a long time!

One other Campbell funny before I’m done. Will you indulge me? This morning Carson and I were involved in a high brow geography discussion on the way to school. We were discussing continents, time zones, and hemispheres. Where is Ghana? Which continent do we live on? Which hemisphere do we live in? Are the people in Ghana going to bed now since we are just waking up on this side of the Earth, etc… Right about the time I mentioned that we live in North America in the Northern Hemisphere, Campbell – quite annoyed and frustrated with the fact that she could not participate in our conversation- belted out, “We live in FLORENCE!”

She even takes a similar tactic when we pick Carson up from school. I love hearing about Carson’s day as soon as she gets in the car. I give her a kiss as she crawls into the backseat, turn off the music, and start firing away questions about what was for snack? who did you play with at recess? was anyone absent? did anyone get a color change? did you eat your lunch? how was art? etc…, and as Carson settles in and begins to relate the events of the day Campbell very often launches into the loudest, most obnoxious version of the ABC’s that you have ever heard.

Our spirited lil’ rock star…

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4
June

Afternoon Interrupted

Be careful what you ask for ’cause you just might get it. You know, there’s a reason cliches become cliche; there’s a life truth behind the worn out phrase, and it is repeatedly expressed and affirmed because…. well, … it’s true! Case in point, my afternoon…

I have been praying for a greater focus on my girls – a greater concentration of my time, my energy, my creativity, etc… As a very task-oriented person, I can very easily and happily fill my day getting stuff done. I, like perhaps many of you, have to be intentional about having quality time with my children. It is so the desire of my heart to pour all I have into them; it’s not my natural bent though, I have to admit. So, I’ve been praying about that, especially with the aroma of summer wafting on the breeze (two half days of school remaining).

Around 4:20 I asked the girls if they would like to go to the park, and both jumped on the opportunity. We began the clean up, potty, pack snacks and drinks, gather the sand toys, grab the cell phone, appropriate shoe choice rigmarole. Twenty-five minutes later we walked out the door, and a nanosecond later I realized I had just locked us out of the house. I immediately turned around to glance through the door window to see my keys properly hanging on their key hook. And not only that, the emergency-secret-hidden-if-you-get-locked-out-key was improperly hanging right beside them. Oh well, …

Ordinarily, Chris would have been home soon, but not tonight. He wasn’t expected home for hours and hours. I have an aunt who lives in my neighborhood, but we have neglected to give her a key for just this kind of occasion. My sister works in town, but she always uses the emergency-secret-hidden-if-you-get-locked-out-key, which may in fact explain why it is not in its hiding place (when all else fails, blame the little sister :-). My mom had the nearest key, which was forty-five minutes away. She graciously drove over after work and rescued us.

But as soon as the realization hit and a plan was in place to remedy the situation, I saw this for what it was – an opportunity to spend some time with my girls. An opportunity with no options for folding laundry, preparing for school tomorrow, pecking on the computer, etc… We headed to the back yard with our drinks and snacks to swing. I set up a little snack shop; the girls rode bikes; we went for a little walk; the sky was overcast and windy which made for perfect emergency-locked-out weather. My mom came over, and the four of us grabbed dinner. Funny thing is – the afternoon was better than if I had planned it myself.

Life can be like that a lot, don’t you think?

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2
June

?

As a very green, short, super young-looking twenty-two year old teacher fresh out of Clemson, I had to learn some quick tricks for survival in a high school classroom. Never show fear was certainly one of them; Establish a community of mutual respect was another. I liked to inform my students that I ran a benevolent dictatorship (a term I stole from someone else). But the lesson I have found to be most applicable in my day-to-day life is one that I learned very quickly as a teacher: Admit when you are wrong or do not know the answer. A hungry pack of high school students love nothing more than the opportunity to pounce on a know-it-all nubie. They will eat your lunch if you are not strong enough to be humble before them. Weakness they will devour, but humility they can respect. That’s a principle that has served me well in my relationship with Him.

In the spirit of real talk, I have times when I’m not doing so fabulously spiritually and emotionally. Times of doubting and wrestling and seeking and questioning. I run into a question for God that I don’t think I get to know the answer to on this side of eternity. “Father, why do You allow_____________?” And the content of my question is not important because if we’re all honest we could probably fill in that blank with a number of scenarios. Cancer. Natural disasters. Child abuse. Birth defects. Divorce. The fragments of earthly pain could go on endlessly… And I don’t really and truly get to understand the answers to those questions, so how do I move forward in my relationship with Him when I run smack into a wall of doubt and questions?

After days of asking to feel His presence and reassurance, asking for joy and peace and hope again, I come to the strength (certainly provided by Him) to humbly say, “I don’t know the answer, Lord. I don’t know the answer to this question, but I am banking on Your promises:

So I am clenching with a tight fist His 100% track record in my life. 100% of the time, He has been right on time, true to His Word, perfectly faithful and involved and present. So in the face of circumstances I do not understand, I am making a conscious choice to trust in His character and believe in His goodness. That is a decision I can will myself to make, even if my emotions aren’t on board initially.

So I humbly admit to you that I don’t know the answers to a lot of life’s hard questions, but I know my God is good and he loves me.

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28
May

I have a dream…

Have you ever wondered whose job it is to come up with the kids’ meal toys? Like we got a collection of some weird stuff. At one point McDonalds was giving away witches to little girls, which I thought was an interesting idea. We have about 9 million Chick-Fil-A board books, which I personally think are the jewels of our assortment, and I have (I admit with great reluctance) liked the little funky American Idol dolls that play a blurb of music when you put the microphone to their mouths (and there’s no shortage of YouTube videos on these guys if you want to check them out).

Yesterday, the girls decided to check out our latest addition – a Chick-Fil-A cd that is going to teach them Russian. I was, of course, thrilled and instantly entertained the notion that this enrichment to their education was going to catapult them to the top of their respective classes (3K and first grade). I was happy to start the cd for them and proudly left them to their language studies.

From the kitchen, I could hear Carson attempting to repeat the phrases the polite, monotone lady pronounced. And then…

Campbell: Momma, Carson throw the stool at me.
Carson: She liked it, Momma.
Campbell: Momma, her throw the stool at me. Her not being nice.
Carson: You’re just trying to tell on me…

Needless to say, my visions of scholarly success shattered and scattered across the kitchen floor. Chris walked in from work as I was (with an amused smirk) collecting the debris of my disillusionment. He asked Carson, “How was field day?”

“Da,” she replies, which to my wild delight means yes in Russian. Maybe my hopes were not at all misplaced … 🙂

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27
May

MMMBOP

Any Hanson fans in the house? Okay, not here either, but here’s my MMMemorial Day recap:

  • Madness at the grocery store

  • More work done in our yard and around our house than in a while

  • Masterful painters working on our porches

  • Makin’ my labor-intensive potato salad

  • Marathon of ragin‘ volleyball games this afternoon – some stellar performances out there!

  • Massive volleyball players towering over me

  • Multiple trips through the food line (bad – very, very bad)

  • Much fun with an easy crowd of new and familiar faces

  • My cuties and many others hard at play for hours

  • Many thanks to our gracious host and hostess

  • Maneuvering the minefield of meltdowns before bed

  • Meticulous surgery on a splinter in a tender heel – navigating the needle oh so gingerly

  • Monsters in the bathroom and menacing smoke detectors (bathtime/bedtime fears)

  • Moon pie, baby! (love them) – DEEEEEElectable!

  • Marvelous day

You know, if I keep up this nutball English teacher mania, I’m going to have to write a bloody haiku.

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